2| Platinum [Pietro M.] ✔

Epilouge

"Iris, come on, its me." The man whispers with concern lacing his words. I feel like I should know him, like I should trust him. But during my time in this tiny little cell, I've learned everything is a trap and anyone that walks through that door only means me harm. So, I find myself scowling at him and press myself further into the corner. I see what I believe to be heartbreak in his eyes as I react contrastingly to how I imagine he wishes I had.

He sits back on his haunches before questioningly looking to the group gathered behind him. A woman with dirty brunette hair hesitantly steps forward. His eyes shift to her before she gives him a faint nod and he backs away. She takes his place and crouches in front of me before offering a small smile. The scowl that once adorned my face drops as I narrow my eyes. She's quite unlike the clean-cut guardsmen that often enter my cell. This fact alone leads me to believe she may not be in association with them. She may actually be here to help. At this point, I'm desperate enough to take a chance.

I don't flinch or pull away when she leans forward with outstretched hands that reach for the collar around my neck. I hear a quiet hiss followed by a sharp click. It's then that the electromagnetic collar that once disabled me clatters to the floor. I stare at the device with mild surprise before kicking it across the room. As I'm distracted by my own actions, I fail to see the looks of unadulterated shock coming from the group. The skin that was once covered by is numb and bruised in a rainbow of dark colors. Intermixed within the bruises are small patches of burnt skin.

I only jerk my head back around when I see the woman reach forward again, this time with her fingers outstretched towards my forehead. I feel no hostility or fear towards her or her actions. After all, I'm grateful for her assistance. I'm even more grateful when her hands light up with a scarlet energy that wafts towards me and releases repressed memories. Faces begin to match with names, but an acute pain sets in.

I can see faint relief in the eyes of Wanda as she notices I can now accurately identify each member of the party. She gives me a tiny smile and then I'm mentally slipping. My guess is that Wanda can sense, perhaps even feel, my pain and is coaxing me into unconsciousness. I can't complain. I'd rather be trapped in darkness than trapped in this blistering agony. I welcome the darkness that overcomes me and leave the rest up to my friends.

I trust they'll get me out of here safely.

I trust them wholeheartedly.