(Old Version) The Blood of the Covenant

Chapter Nine: Micah

Micah stood before the so-called school, wondering if this was the right place. He'd already had his doubts about all this, and now... now he was beginning to think he should've listened to them.

The school before him wasn't quite... well, a school. Honestly, from what little he could make out with his sixth sense, it seemed to be more like a warehouse of some sort. Or some kind of abandoned factory. It was big. That much he could tell for sure. And cold. If it had electricity, it wasn't in use.

He winced. That wouldn't be fun in the upcoming winter.

He forced his feet to move again, following the man who called himself Scythe. They'd walked all the way here. But not straight from the neighborhood in which they'd met. No, first, they'd gone to go pick up some other kid.

He was a chatty boy named Max who'd lived not too far from where Micah had been. Apparently, he was the one Scythe had been in the area to fetch in the first place. Running into Micah had just been a happy accident.

Micah turned his attention to the boy who scampered alongside Scythe eagerly. From what he could tell from Max's endless prattling narrative, Max came from a bloodline of villainy. Though his happy-go-lucky demeanor didn't quite scream evil or ruthless or ambitious criminal, Micah knew there was likely more to him than met the eye.

For one, he seemed to be part robot. Or something. He had a prosthetic arm, leg, and eye, and part of his face was covered in metal plating. Micah could sense the electricity that coursed through the boy's mechanical parts. It was so fascinating and so strange to him. He'd heard of mechanical prosthetics, but he'd never realized they could be used to such an extreme extent.

Whatever had happened to Max must've been nearly lethal.

"Micah!"

Micah tuned back into the land of the living with a start. Scythe's irritated tone implied that this probably wasn't the first time he'd tried to get Micah's attention. Micah lifted his chin, trying to come off as a bit more attentive.

"Sorry, I was—"

"Not paying attention." Scythe tutted. "I'd think someone with your background would be a bit more aware of his surroundings. More vigilant."

Micah bit back an exasperated sigh. "I was paying attention to my surroundings. Just not you."

"It'll do you well to listen to me, boy." The villain said. "You're here to learn from me. So watch and learn. And listen."

It was all Micah could do not to correct the man. Scythe hadn't seemed to notice Micah's blindness yet, thanks to the glasses he wore to cover his sightless eyes and scars, and Micah was planning to keep it that way. For now, at least. He wasn't sure if he trusted the man enough to hand him any sort of weakness.

Max, at Scythe's side, shifted awkwardly, but said nothing. Micah frowned. He could already tell he wasn't likely going to be able to rely on the boy as any sort of ally. The boy was a follower, through and through. He was already drawn deep into Scythe's little school scheme. He was honestly far too trusting and naive for this line of work. But that wasn't any of Micah's business.

Scythe just stared at Micah for a moment more, as if trying to make sure his point had hit home, then he pivoted and stalked off. Behind the shelter of his shades, Micah rolled his eyes. All this man needed was a cape, and he'd be a picture-perfect comic book villain.

Max scurried after the man, and Micah begrudgingly followed as well. Already, he could tell this was not going to be the most wonderful experience. But he didn't really have a lot of options right now. And out of all of the paths before him, this school seemed to be the best to take.