The Ambuloks

Sunset

As much as Ren's life in the Spiral tormented her and consumed her every waking moment with paranoia, she couldn't leave. At least not now. Maybe someday Ren would be able to make a life elsewhere, a life in hiding but hiding under the sky, but not yet. The Quimunte Receptacle was too important. Guarding it was Ren's purpose, her life, and more important than something as slight and fleeting as her happiness. Her father's worst nightmare was leaving it without a protector and as Ren felt the distance grow between her and the Receptacle dark visions filled her mind as she imagined what could happen if they were separated.

Outside of the Spiral, the world was a stranger to her, but Ren held its life in her hands.

Well, she actually held it in a sphere.

It didn't matter though. They were being separated and Ren had absolutely no idea how she could get out of this, especially not without arousing suspicion. It was unlikely the Spiral would, or even could, find where Ren had hidden the receptacle. It seemed like they were looking in the wrong direction, but Ren felt like she was leaving an organ behind. She'd been silent and stoic and utterly panicked as Jermayne's staff pushed her onto a cyclekart filled with guards and chattering assistants. Faster than Ren thought possible, they had ridden past the carrier's hidden entrance and down and down and down the Road, into unknown depths, strands of her hair blowing loose from her bun and foreshadowing a different type of wind to greet her outside.

Now they were in a spacious cavern, although it would be dwarfed compared to the Core. Ren stood alone facing the hanger door, like a pillar, while people around her swarmed and rushed to prepare motorcarts that were much more convenient for a long journey than cyclekarts. They gathered a few large barrels of food to ration, blankets and tents, extra tires and refined coal, but Ren didn't try to help and for once she wasn't paying attention.

"Ren-Lin," she heard from behind, sensing Benny's familiar presence hovering.

He was expecting her to be angry. She should be, Ren realized, but somehow it just didn't seem worth it.

Ren sighed, and turned away from the press of the hanger door. Her eyes were heavy as they met Benny's, full of regret and sadness. She tried to smile at him, to show him that it was okay, but it was slight and weak like even her smile was tired.

"It's okay, Benny," Ren said, swallowing disappointment and stomaching a small twinge of heartbreak in her chest, "You don't have to say anything."

Worry was consuming Ren from the inside. She didn't want to be mad at her only friend- the closest person she had to family. Who had time for that? Certainly not her.

Ren's face contorted, her mask cracking, breaking, and then twisting into an oddly transparent reflection of her feelings as desperation rose in her chest. Despair festered in her heart and as she looked at Benny, Ren saw that along with his remorse a feeling of helplessness had grown in him and she realized that it was in her as well. What could they do against the Spiral when their lives were hung above their heads and held as captives? There they stood, alone and vulnerable, too paranoid and afraid to do much else. As old and meaningful Ren and Benny were to each other, there wasn't room for heroes inside the Spiral's walls.

Glancing over her shoulder, and hiding her face, Ren couldn't help but wonder if there was enough space for great acts on the outside.

"If I'd had a choice, girly..." Benny began.

"It's really okay Benny. What happened to my father..." she said, looking back with a weaker mask in place, trying to find something to say because even though she wasn't angry, a barrier, an illusion, of trust and faith in Benny had been stripped away. "It happened a long time ago. His bones are buried."