Slugterran Saviours

Chapter 21

Author's Note: YO what is GOOD baCK WITH ANOTHER UPLOAD! But unfortunately i come with bad news: i don't think I can update next week, because i'll be heading for vacation for the week! I'll try my hardest to, so this is just a heads up if you don't see an update next week! and that is all ENJOY

"Savea?"

He asked, waiting anxiously outside her room, tapping his foot on the ground nervously, his hands tapping on the container he had placed her food in, the warm, raven black plastic box sealed with a matching cover, a bottle filled with water balanced on top. His lips twitched, restraining themselves from speaking out the secret he had to spill behind closed doors. Behind the door, he could hear the familiar voice of the famous actor, Finlay Hopkins, uttering empty promises to another female actress, Rose Sanchez as the classic, iconic love story, Kisses from a Hoverbug, played in her room: a movie that she only watched when she was absolutely devastated.

She had come back a few hours ago while he had been away on a mission to the Deep Caverns with Dark Heart, to take the prisoner the Dark Bane had been prepping for Project Praelia. She had been weak, staggering due to blood loss, her vision cloudy, fuzzy. But she still held a cocky smirk on her face as he cuffed her hands behind her back, her messy, disarray hair hanging from her head, matted in her own blood. He just dismissed her crazed, deranged rambling as delirium as he took her back to Ataro's base, her wounds ghastly and infected, distracting him well enough. When he came back, he heard Savea was back from the mission, going to see her before the guards stopped him, telling him what happened when she came back. How she locked herself in, sobbing and crying on the floor. How she broke the spines of two soldiers from the pure force of her powers. How she hasn't come out ever since.

He stood outside her door nervously, a flurry of emotions filling his head. His signature slug chirped on his shoulder reassuringly, the ghoul gesturing to the door, telling him to try again. He nodded, holding up his hand, taking in a deep breath before knocking on the door once again.

"Savea, it's me, Twist." He called once again, seconds that seemed like hours passing before the door knob twisted open, the door opening at the very slightest. Twist nudged the door open slightly, closing it behind him, looking up at Savea. He was so used to seeing her with that raven black mask on, her hair in a ponytail like she always wore it, even before they got involved in this mess. But this time, her crimson red irises weren't the only thing that glowed red, for her eyes were red and puffy, bags hanging under them. Her nose was bright red as she stared at the television screen, her eyes lacking emotion, huddled in blankets, her hair messy and disarray. Her face, which often looked healthy, despite the dark energy flowing in her veins, was gaunt and pale, her once rosy cheeks starting to sink in. Her mask lay on her bedside table, lonely, forgotten.

From what he had seen, the broadcast has been successful, the signal for Phase Three had been set into motion. It was the only thing that plagued social media, the only thing news reporters had been talking about. And according to the guards, Savea hadn't eaten ever since she came back, she barely drank, shouts and pleas were heard from inside her room in the dark of the night, before the audio from a movie played in the background. They also said she didn't say a word ever since she came back, she just barricaded herself here.

Twist made his way to her, careful not to step on the many documents and blueprints litterring the floor, the plans for Project Praelia, an unstoppable warrior who was more skilled than Savea covering nearly every inch of the floor. He shuddered as he tried to push away every thought of that plan away from his mind, his heart filling with guilt as he remembered the poor girl he brought back being prepped further for Project Praelia, how she was about to suffer Savea's fate later today. He arrived at het bedside, sitting down beside her on the bed, turning towards her, placing the container in front of her crosslegged figure.