Chapter 5

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All of the teens were at the door, ready to sneak out of their room. Opening the door so that only a single eye could see what was outside, Tristan looked around for any signs of guards. Giving the "all clear sign" he opened the door to let everyone out.





"Okay so where's the cafeteria from here?"  Xia asked with a hint of impatience, " I don't want to be out here anymore than we need to."



"If we're on the fith story of this building, then the cafeteria should be on the third floor", Gage explained leading the way, " we can use the levers and what not to open and close the doors so we can access everything quicker, come on."




Following Gage, the five of them pulled pushed and walked their way through the maze of labs and empty food courts. It looked like they wouldn't get caught, of course with their occasional near misses here and there, but then they got to the third floor. As they got to another shortcut, they saw a bunch of guards who, apparently, was looking for them, despite them covering up their tracks and taking extreme cations as to not getting caught.




"How did they find out we got out!?" Xia said a little loudly, "and look the lever is all they way over there!"



They all gave her the "why did you open your mouth!?" look as the guards turned in their direction and started to rush towards them. As they thought their adventure was over for them, something miraculous happened. Gage's mutated arm started to produce a semi-visible gas-esk look, then it sprang out in a bowling position producing a disc glaive. Involuntarily, he threw it with speed towards the lever, closing the door. As it bounced back to him, he staggered back and his eyes widened.


"What... the... fuck..." Gage said still wide eyed.



"Yeah... what is that any way?" Leo asked in curiosity, "and why do you get a weapon first!?"



"Like it's my choice!" Gage yelled back waving the disc glaive around.



"BOTH OF YOU SHUT UP BEFORE WE GET CAUGHT AGAIN!!" Xia yelled, above the two boys.



Calming done from the aftermath of what just happened, Gage looked what was in his hands. It was black just like his armored arm, there were three sharp blades, each following the circular pattern. There were three holes in the inner circle for the fingers. (Like the one depicted below) It was lightweight, good for quick slashes and decisive throws, but most of all  the blade was like apart of him: a product of the infection inside of him. As everything calmed he slightly closed his hand and the disc glaive closed up, then, with satisfaction, he opened his hand spontaneously and it folded out with great speed as it was before. 


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