𝙸𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝙸𝚝 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚜, 𝚁𝚞𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐?

|𝟞| ℝ𝕖𝕕 𝕃𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕟𝕤

No trigger warnings, for once 

     "A favour?" Darryl stopped, holding the phone with white knuckles. What on earth did his brother want that needed him?

     "... Hear me out." He sighed. That was never good. Probably needed bailing out or some sort of assistance with his 'operations'. Darryl wasn't sure this would go well, it usually didn't, but something felt different this time. Something about the obvious worry, matched with excitement, in his twin's voice. Something with the lengthy pause where Philip had to stop and second-guess himself. Something about how much he needed this, whatever it was.

     "I need your help for plan N-H." Philip quickly blurt it out, out of breath, and stopped suddenly afterwards. Darryl was confused.

     "Plan N-H? What's that?" It was important, by the sounds of it. Sort of foreboding, but with a grimly positive afterthought, as if it would be hard to pull off and exceedingly risky but worth it.

     "It's what my business—" He meant villain organization—"Is working on. It'll be our last 'stunt'. We'll finally finish this." Darryl's head was spinning with even more questions than it had been a second ago. Finish what? What has this all been about? How much have you not told me?

    "Elaborate." Darryl stated, note of finality in his tone.

    "We're trying to take down the government."

     Way to start an explanation.

     "Look, it'll be easier just to show you why, because I know you say you trust me—" Darryl let out a noise of protest—"But you won't fully believe it until you see it for yourself. So, we'll tell you in due time."

     "'We?' You know what? Fine. I'll help you. But first, I want to know what's been going on." Philip had expected the wanting to understand what he had been doing, not the agreeing, and was slightly taken aback. He had thought it would take more convincing. This was just more convenient for him, he supposed.

      "Alright. See you on Thursday, five am— yes, am, at [street name]."

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     The street was empty, as would be expected for this unholy early hour. Darryl had drove half an hour to get here, seeing only two other people awake, and was waiting quietly in his car for Philip to arrive. He was early, per usual, having a quick sleep before, and Philip was late, also to no surprise. It was another four minutes before his brother dropped in— literally. He had flown there.

      He tapped down on the road, wings shifting quickly back into nothingness as he surveyed the area for anyone. Satisfied, he turned to Darryl and waved him into the back alley, in between some neon-coloured stands selling food and other miscellaneous items. Darryl nervously stepped out of his SUV and subconsciously slipped his bat wings out, folding them around himself.

     They walked together in silence, Philip leading, Darryl following while getting progressively more antsy. He had now grown his wings to the point they were longer than his arms, swallowing him in a black and red so dark it was almost purple cocoon. His leg burned with every step, still not fully healed. Philip noticed this, of course, and picked up the pace.

      It took them twelve minutes to get to the brick wall, and two more for Philip to curtly disable the locks and open the door which had appeared. He sauntered in, fanning away the thin, purple gas filling the entrance. Darryl held his breath, assuming the gas was another security measure.

     The room was lit by red lanterns hanging in each corner, big couches lining the soft tan walls, wooden floor hidden beneath a thick, brown carpet. There was strings of beads, so many you couldn't see through them, acting in place of a door in the corner, and a gate leading into another, bigger room across from them. A dark oak desk stacked with papers and books sat against the right wall, red chair pushed into it.

     Considering what this space was used for, and who occupied it, the place was surprisingly cozy.

     A figure popped their head through the doorframe, startling Darryl and causing him to jump. His wings quickly retracted into his back. Philip simply nodded a hello. The man smirked, looking both exceedingly bored and interested somehow at once. He was tall, taller than both Philip and Darryl at least, with a t-shirt and jeans on. He had pink-tinted skin, fangs, and pig ears that twitched every now and then. A small, golden crown adorned his head, three small rubies embedded on it, and he was wearing some sort of separate sleeve that only covered his elbows. He reminded Darryl of his friend Dave.

     "Techno. This is... Bad. Badboyhalo." Philip introduced. Darryl looked at him, confused, while 'Techno' watched from leaning on the doorframe. "That's your alias now." He added, whispering.

     "... Yeah, okay, whatever." Darryl continued to poke around the room, finding nothing dangerous or remotely illegal. Mostly it was just tech stuff, novels, textbooks, notebooks, and loose papers. If he hadn't of known better, he'd of thought this was a dorm or something.

      "Come with me." Philip started towards the bead door, lifting it open for them, then greeting the empty room. Darryl's jaw dropped when he saw the small room. It had the same soft red hue from the lanterns, but the interior was black, the floor carpeted, and walls covered with screens, some displaying camera views from across the city, some filled with scrolling text, some writing the stereotypical hacking green commands, some off. There was a black and purple gamer chair with wheels on the bottom in the middle of the room, and pastel bees were randomly painted on the walls.

     Whoever works mainly in here must be their resident hacker. Darryl thought, admiring the daisies that sat, blooming, in a light cerulean vase. They decorated nicely.

     "Watch this." Philip motioned at the lit-up computer near where Darryl was standing. He sat down obediently and kept his eyes trained on the video that popped up.

̍̊˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙　　˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙‧̍̊

       Darryl was furious. The man didn't get angry often, but this was a rare exception. He was seething. Philip was almost scared— almost.

      "What. Was. That." Techno appeared at the perfect time to intervene.

      "It was what we're working to stop. You see—" He pointed at the many other videos saved to the computer's files—"That isn't the only... incident. Plan N-H is going to be our 'master plan' where we show everyone that." Darryl calmed a bit, hearing the deep voice of the head of Necro-Sin. He was still beyond mad, yes, but cooling down to icy rage, the type that freezes your insides, bites at your fingertips, and leaves you numb with anger.

     "Everyone? How're you going to do that?" Philip interrupted, cracking his wrist by flicking it. He gazed emotionless at the small flower-head he was holding, petals a pure white and barely any stem on it.

     "Well, first, we need more equipment. Believe or not, all of this isn't enough yet." Darryl nodded. It would make sense, to get so much data to so many different medias, you would definitely need a lot of power. "That's where you come in."

     "You don't have to do this, you know. You can always back out." Like hell he would back out. Not when he now knew what was going on behind the scenes of hero-ing. Philip twirled the flower in his fingers, before crushing it. Darryl set his jaw, making a decision he was sure would change his life.

     "No, I'm in."