Blessings of Anathema

Chapter VI: Pablo II

He stood there staring at me, an expression of annoyance.
"So she told you where to find me, huh?" Dalton said.
"Yes.... but only because it's an emergency." I responded.
Dalton continued to stare at me. Without any words, I could sense his frustration.
"Here. I'll just show you." I said. I then released my tie and pulled off my suit top, exposing my torso and arms.
Dalton's eyes widened and grabbed me and pulled me inside. "What the heck are you doing!? You can't expose your mark to the world."
I lowered my head to the ground in shame.
Dalton spoke again. "But I suppose you already have. Haven't you, Mr. Celebrity?"
He's referring to how I became well known.
When Dalton turned 18, he immediately disbanded from our Foster mom we were granted after Dalton turned us into the Social Services after escaping Test Delta. We spent 3 years with a small group of others who escaped, trying to survive in the real world, however after my health constantly became an issue, Dalton turned us in. I have no idea what happened to the others.
I, on the other hand used my Yurie for good. I traveled the word, adding life to the subtracted water holes all over. I quickly rose to fame.
Out of 103 subjects, I only know of 8 who survived the rebel. Two are me and Dalton, the other 6... they're good people. We developed a strong bond over the years together. We even started calling each other brothers after a while.
"So what's the problem? Why is your mark so big?" Dalton said.
I looked at him. "I don't know. They never told us anything about the mark expanding. However lately.... I haven't been myself. I grab a guy earlier and almost hurt him. I didn't do it though... everything happened so quickly."
Dalton continued to stare at my mark. Dalton is wearing long sleeves so it's impossible for me to know just how much his mark has grown.
"I see..." Dalton said. "Well then let's go see Proph. He might know something about this."
"Proph!?" I exclaimed. "You know where he is?"
"Yes." Dalton said. "Not long after I left, he reached out to me. Somehow heard of my Situation and told me about this place. He's the reason I'm in New York. He's not far. We can head there now. Cover yourself back up."
I put my suit top back on and we left the room.
Dalton stopped a taxi and gave the driver Prophs address.
We had a fairly short drive before we arrived at a bright White House with a small yard and a tiny wooden fence around it. Really tiny. Small enough to step over.
This place is a big upgrade compared to where Dalton lives. I wonder how life ended up going for Proph.
Dalton escorted me to the front door and knocked.
There was loud music playing inside. I heard the music stop and footsteps come toward the door.
The door opened and there he stood, dark skin, long white hair, dirty sweatpants, and a no shirt, completely revealing his tattoos.
He rubbed his eyes and yawned. He then looked at us.
"Sup." He said.