The Morningstar Brigade

Chapter 62

XXXXXXII

DAKEN

After the Crash

Brigade High-Security Containment, Eden

Daken glanced over at the guard on his right, and then looked to the guard on his left. "So, either of you two chatterboxes want to tell me what this is all about?"

The guards remained silent and continued leading Daken down the somber corridor.

"I mean, don't get me wrong," he continued with a nervous energy. "I'm not exactly in a hurry to get back to my rousing game of 'how many bolts are still holding my rusted cell together,' but I'm just having trouble thinking of a reason for this little walk of ours."

"You've been summoned at the request of Lady Vigilant," the guard on the left growled. "We've been ordered to escort you. Now please, for the love of Morningstar, stop talking."

Daken rolled his eyes. "I've been 'summoned?' C'mon, real people don't talk like that. Do they give you guys a pamphlet of pre-approved phrases or something?" He nudged the guard on the right. "I'm just saying that you could loosen up, get a little more creative with it," he said, trying desparately to fill the suffocating quiet. "And speaking of loosening up, how about we do something about these handcuffs here?"

"You're one of the most lethal Apostles on record, you threatened the entire squad that tried to bring you in with acts of extreme brutality, and you've consistently abused an illegal combat technique that leads to berserk violence," the guard on the right quickly rattled off, raising an eyebrow. "And you think we're going to take off your handcuffs?"

"Well, see, when you say it like that it sounds like a bad idea," Daken grumbled.

The guards stopped in front of a cast iron door. "We'll be waiting outside to return you back to your cell when your meeting has finished," the left guard instructed, pulling out a key and sliding it into the door's lock with a metallic clunk.

Daken frowned as he walked through the door into a small room bathed in fluorescent light. "Meeting? What meeting?"

"Oh, and Daken?" the guard on the left said, ignoring the question. "I'm sorry about this. We all respected him a great deal."

And, with that, the door shut behind Daken.

Daken walked over to the small metal table at the center of the room and took a seat. "Sorry?" he muttered to himself as he tried to find a comfortable position in the stiff chair. "What's he sorry about?"

"I wish we didn't have to meet this way," Uriel said quietly as he entered the room. He carried a tattered black bundle beneath his arms. The air seemed to disappear from his lungs as he sat down opposite to the former Apostle. "It's... it's not right. Not for why we're here."

"Uriel?" Daken said, sitting forward with surprise. "You're the one who brought me here?" He scratched his head. "I appreciate the company, but aren't you supposed to be gearing up for some kind of interdimensional bungee jump? And isn't pulling high-security prisoners out of their cells for a chat above your paygrade?"

"The 'bungee jump' has gotten a little more complicated, which is saying something. Solomon is trying to cobble something together, but it's not going to be ready for the solstice. But I guess that doesn't matter anymore. Sorry, I'm getting off track." The Shepherd offered a sad smile and tossed a small object onto the table. "As for the security? Swiping Vigilant's stamp and the right documents tends to open doors."