Warning for violence; no gore, just swords and broken bones
When Adria had first powered up, it seemed like it was any other night. It was a little chilly but the weather was good; there were people out but not so many that it was stressing him out.
He set out on a patrol—alone, tonight, for the first time in a while. He’d been enjoying the company, but every now and then it was nice to just get a breath of fresh air.
Patrols were usually uneventful anyway; Adria hadn’t run into a problem in a long time.
He was lucky like that, only, his luck seemed to run out tonight.
Sanidine had spent the past four days almost exclusively in his office. Losing Evan was the most painful thing he had ever experienced; it hurt more than joining the Negaverse or any promotion he’d ever had. Hurt more than any fight he’d been in. Hurt more than anything.
And he hadn’t been quite right since.
The pain wasn’t the only thing he’d had to deal with; there was the fatigue, the nausea. He had a migraine for nearly a day straight and knew he wasn’t thinking clearly. He’d barely eaten and the only time he’d slept was when his body had shut down and forced him to.
In the back of his head was a little voice that told him he was getting behind on his quotas. A little nagging voice that told him to get off his a** and stop being useless. A little nagging voice that wouldn’t shut up, so he hauled his aching self out of his office and teleported into Destiny City.
Sanidine looked like he’d already lost a fight; he was rough around the edges and didn’t walk in a steady, straight line. His brows were narrowed and it looked like he was having a hard time focusing on anything.
Probably, because he was having a hard time focusing on anything.
It felt like struggling through the haze of some debilitating flu; he managed, but it wasn’t pretty.
He hadn’t gathered much energy; usually he had no difficulties approaching people but tonight he just didn’t want to deal with them. He’d drained a few members of the homeless community while they were off and alone, but the park just had too many lights; he’d left after only half an hour.
There was an empty part of town that he had made a mental note to explore at some point in time; he had been putting it off. For no real reason, tonight seemed like a good night to head over there.
There were a string of warehouses on 18th street, and Sanidine knew that if he wanted to pluck some extra energy, it was probably a smarter idea to start there instead of the over populated park.
Things had started off well enough, until there was the prickle of an Order signature nearby. Truthfully, it was Sanidine’s fault; he had teleported into the area. A street and a half over from where he’d wanted to be. It felt a little extra draining but he didn’t care.
The presence of a Senshi made his stomach turn upside down; disgust filled him and anger seemed to surge from his heart to the tips of his fingers. His hands clenched into fists at his side.
How dare they—how dare they intrude on him. He just wanted to be left alone. They needed to go.
Sanidine would chase them away. And then he would go back to his energy collecting. Or, maybe, he would just collect their energy. He’d never taken a starseed before, but he’d drained energy. The Senshi deserved it—their only purpose was, what, to get in the way and ******** everything up? Or something. He couldn’t be sure; just thinking about them made his chest hurt and with another growl of annoyance he rubbed at his sore sternum and stomped in the direction of the Senshi.
Adria didn’t have time to react, really. One minute he was alone, and the next there was a flash of purple turning the corner. He’d gotten antsy when he felt the energy signature appear so close to him and he had intended to leave. There wasn’t any reason to stand his ground—now when there wasn’t anything in the area to protect. He had turned to go back the way he came, but Sanidine was blocking his path.
He recognized the general from only a few days ago—when he and Lysithea and the other girls had been out. Lysithea had been playing with the wand when the youma—Evan—came close. They knew each other—and she knew this General. He hadn’t seen the man since they purified Evan; the General had been fine one second and then screaming and gone the next.
While he hadn’t quite known what had happened to him, Adria hadn’t really thought about it since.
Until now.
Sanidine looked awful, to put it bluntly. And that was the nice way to describe it. His clothes were pristine, his hair fixed, but he looked awful. Sick.
There was a look in his eyes that made Adria even more nervous than when he’d seen him the other day.
And Sanidine was just looking at him.
Seconds ticked by and Adria finally cleared his throat. “Hey,” he greeted uncertainly. His voice was soft and he wouldn’t have thought Sanidine had even heard him if not for the slight twitch of the General’s hand at his side. “Ah, Sanidine, right?”
Sanidine didn’t really respond. Instead, he stared at the Senshi, wondering first how he knew his name, and then secondly where he recognized him from. There was a certain familiarity but everything seemed to sort of swirl together. Tonight, the past few days.
He shouldn’t have forgotten those colors, that face. Time was passing differently for Sanidine; what felt like only a second of thought was a few seconds. It didn’t register to him that the reason Adria was looking at him strangely was because he’d been wearing the same irritated expression for nearly twenty seconds, now.
Naturally, Sanidine was offended. “What?” he snarled, hand curling at his side again.
Adria pursed his lips and swallowed a lump in his throat. “Ah—sorry, I meant. We met the other night, I think? I was there with, uhm. Evan. And Lysithea…?”
Recognition flashed across Sanidine’s face, but it wasn’t with familiarity or ease. Instead, he seemed angry.
“Oh.”
The General lifted his head just slightly, looking down his nose at the Super Senshi. “That’s right. I remember you.”
Him. He was the reason he was hurting right now. The sickness coursing through his veins, the emptiness in his chest. This was his fault. Him and the others, but they weren’t here right now. They’d taken Evan from him—to who knew where. Maybe they’d even killed him.
After he’d worked so hard to fix him and they’d taken Evan from him.
The anger bubbled uncomfortable, seeping through him like toxic sludge.
Maybe there was some part of him that knew he wasn’t thinking rationally, but he didn’t care. All he knew was that he’d done nothing but sulk and try to recuperate for days, but nothing he did felt any better. A blind, animalistic rage propelled Sanidine’s thoughts, his actions.
Looking at the Senshi in front of him reminded him of the pain he’d been going trough—the uselessness.
Sanidine had worked for nearly a year straight to fix Evan, and what had come of it?
Nothing.
He had failed.
Lysithea, he could forgive—but the others? A band of weak, worthless Senshi. They didn’t even know Evan, and yet—somehow—they had found some way to take him. If they had fixed him, they had no right to. The success should have gone to him. The thanks should have gone to him.
He had messed things up. He should have fixed them.
But now, because of them, he wouldn’t be able to.
Adria had realized something was wrong after Sanidine rolled his shoulders and summoned two strange, hooked swords. He took a step back instinctively. “Anyway, it’s good to see you, I was just headed home.”
“No, you weren’t,” Sanidine said coolly. He could see now with a clarity he’d been deprived of for the past few days. He had been misguided, wallowing in confusion and darkness and uncertainty.
He knew what he needed to do.
He took a few steps forward, deliberately intimidating.
Adria realized quickly that it wasn’t just for show; Sanidine’s speed increased and he tried a quick, “Please—I don’t want to fight, let’s just talk—”
Sanidine wasn’t going to talk. He realized that only a split second before he reached his hand up instinctively. Before the blade tore through the fabric of his uniform and slashed into his arm.
In that moment, Adria and Sanidine had something in common: time stood still.
For Adria, the blood splashing through the air seemed to thrust him into the harsh reality that he was being attacked by a General. He was going to have to fight.
For Sanidine, the look on Adria’s face made his heart pound. This was right. This was how it was supposed to be. The headache stopped. The pain stopped.
But only for that second.
He couldn’t go back to the state he’d been in the past few days; he’d go mad. He already felt the Chaos tainting his thoughts, like a thick, sticky grease coating the gears of his mind.
For a second, it seemed like they stared into each other’s eyes. There was a brief reprieve for both of them.
Sanidine broke it.
Adria was falling backwards, off balance from the sudden attack, and Adria took advantage of it; he raised his foot and kicked him squarely in the chest.
Everything happened too fast from then on.
Adria flew backwards; he tried to catch himself but slammed into the metal paneling on one of the warehouses. The breath was pushed from his lungs and he let out a weak cry of pain.
The noise only seemed to fuel Sanidine; a sick grin twisted onto his features. He lunged again, swords arcing trough the air.
Adria only barely had time to duck before the blades sunk into the thin metal. He was crouching, eye level with Sanidine’s belt buckle. The General seemed surprised and looked down at the Senshi who was already trying to dart away. One sword came out freely but the other was stuck. He tugged it, once, but it wouldn’t dislodge—and Adria was nearly out of reach by the time he shot out at the boy’s ankle.
The hook sword wasn’t meant to cut, not this time; instead he latched it around Adria’s ankle and gave it a hard jerk as he tried to run.
Neither party had expected the action to work, but Sanidine’s face lit up when Adria toppled forward, face smashing into the concrete. It gave him the second he needed to turn back to the warehouse and stick his foot up against it, using the leverage to free his other weapon.
“You aren’t leaving,” he hissed, moving to stand over Adria’s body.
Adria was rolling in pain, one hand gingerly trying to reach for the bleeding arm. He rolled onto his back and looked up at Sanidine, horrified. “Stop,” he begged. “Please, I don’t want to fight.”
“I know,” Sanidine replied easily. “Because you know you’re going to lose.”
“Why are you doing this?” Adria sputtered; he tried to scoot away but both he and Sanidine knew it wasn’t going to get him very far. All Sanidine had to do was take a step in his direction and he was close to him again. With both blades lowered. Grinning.
It sickened Adria to see how much he seemed to enjoy this. Briefly his eyes flicked to the sword dripping with his own blood. He was trying to buy time; he needed to get out of here, fast. His phone was in a pocket he didn’t think he could grab before Sanidine attacked again or he would have grabbed it and teleported to his homeworld. He had never been but regardless of whatever reservations he normally had, none of that mattered now.
He had never seen someone look like they wanted to kill, but he could see it in Sanidine’s eyes.
The General took another step towards him and shrugged. “I never really hated Senshi, you know. I mean, some of you, sure. I didn’t like them. But I never really hated any of them until the other night. What you did…” His voice drifted off. He seemed to lose his train of thought, just for a second, and then shook his head. “You wouldn’t understand. You don’t need to. There’s really only one thing you need to know.”
“Oh?” Adria asked hopefully, praying for something he could work with. The longer Sanidine spoke, the more opportunities he’d have to look around.
This environment didn’t give him much, but there was debris and trash lying on the ground. Broken boards, a few pipes, boxes. If he could get inside one of the warehouses, he might be able to hide for just long enough to access the app he needed on his phone.
Sanidine took a step closer, reminding him that he didn’t really have that luxury. He leaned in close, like he intended to share some secret with the Senshi.
Adria pretended like he cared and nodded again, encouragingly.
“I’m going to kill you.”
Instinct took over for Adria; he wasn’t a violent person, but Sanidine was looming over him. It wasn’t a classy move by any means, but Adria saw and opening and took it. He raised one leg even as Sanidine raised a sword; they both moved at the same time. His foot slammed between Sanidine’s legs and he tried to roll to the side just as one of Sanidine’s swords came down, hard. Adria had miscalculated; he thought if he moved quickly enough he could avoid another strike. Instead, all he’d done was redirect it. He felt a burn against his ribs but it didn’t hurt as much as the first strike.
Sanidine stumbled backwards, in pain and swearing, and Adria scrambled to his feet and tried to make a run for it. As he ran, his hands searched his pockets frantically but he couldn’t find his phone. His heartbeat was pounding loudly in his ears and he thought he was making distance between he and Sanidine. He ran as fast as he could and didn’t look back.
He rounded a corner and slammed into Sanidine, who was already snarling.
Teleportation.
Running was useless when they could teleport.
Adria didn’t have time to utter an apology, no matter how sincere, before Sanidine had pulled back his fist and slammed it into the side of his face. Once. Twice.
It pushed Adria backwards with force alone.
He hit him again, in the throat, the chest, the stomach.
It was faster than Adria could register and none of it felt real. He heard something snap but assumed it was just one of the boards; he felt a pressure against his back and a stack of boxes to his side. They were in a field of debris.
It didn’t register that it might have come from him.
What did register, as the taste of blood filled his mouth, and as the air evacuated from his lungs, was that Sanidine wasn’t stopping. There was something that just wasn’t human about what was going on. He moved like a monster, like someone with no reservations.
What scared Adria most wasn’t that he thought he should be fearing for his life. It wasn’t that he thought Sanidine could kill him, or that he knew his body was taking a lot of damage.
It was that, when he looked into Sanidine’s eyes, there wasn’t anything there. There was no sanity, no remorse, no hesitation. He might as well have been fighting a robot.
He was as desperate to live as Sanidine was to kill him. The General had abandoned his swords and had favored throwing fist after fist at the Senshi; he tried to hold up his arms to block the blows but all it did was give Sanidine an opportunity to punch him in his open wound. He cried out, and Sanidine didn’t even seem unnerved.
He didn’t seem pleased, either. It was so mechanical
Halfway between screaming and sucking in a fresh breath of air, Adria cried out, “Setting Suns!”
Sanidine blinked, taking a slight step back out of confusion. It wasn’t much, but it was another second of reprieve. Adria could get another breath. His legs were weak behind him when the baseball sized orb appeared nearby. It glowed warmly; he didn’t try to throw it, just let it fall to the ground near them.
It looked like a miniature sun and, as his magic seemed to do to others, the glowing orb caught Sanidine’s eyes. The General tilted his head to the side uncertainly, watching the orb like he expected it to explode.
Most of the time, the orb felt peaceful, relaxing.
It just frustrated Sanidine. It reminded him of all the times he was stuck, waiting on answers he would never get. Relying on other people to help him clean up a mess he made. It reminded him of how useless and pathetic they made him feel.
Sanidine just couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t stand the idea that someone could be better than him. Him! A General! And hadn’t he served Metallia faithfully? He’d met his quota, he’d done everything he was supposed to do. Drained energy, fought Senshi. Sure, there was a period of time where all he’d been able to think about was fixing Evan, but even then he’d been a good General.
He had a Lieutenant that he was training.
So why had this happened? Why had any of this happened? Why did it feel like he was losing control of his life.
…Why was he here, beating the s**t out of some stupid Senshi?
The light began to dip below the ground and Sanidine tilted his head. He wanted to move away; he knew there was something bad at the end of this. There had to be.
He didn’t noticed Adria stumbling away, desperately groping for his phone. He managed to pull it from his pocket, finally, but his fingers just didn’t seem to be working. His vision was swimming but he just needed to press one button. His trembling thumb moved for it.
A sword hit him across the back. It bit into his skin but it was the kick that followed that sent him face first into the ground. His phone skittered a few feet away from him and Adria lifted his head like he’d lost the last bit of hope.
Three feet away and it felt unreachable. Sanidine was kicking him again.
Rational thinking was gone the moment the magical little sun had set. There wasn’t a thought process currently functioning in Sanidine’s head. He wanted something to hurt as much as he had.
It could have been anyone.
It didn’t matter that Adria had been there when Evan was saved. It didn’t matter that that’s what Sanidine had wanted.
This was only him in the broadest of senses. It was his body, but his mind hadn’t been working since he’d left Evan with Lysithea.
Adria didn’t know; he didn’t know Sanidine. Lysithea knew him, but that didn’t mean much in this moment. One of the swords came down again; he heard the tear of fabric (At least, he hoped it was fabric) but he didn’t really feel the pain. He felt a foreign wetness between his shoulder-blades and a foggy moment of thought lead him to the conclusion that it must have been blood.
He was tired. It almost felt like he could fall asleep right here, just like this. His eyes closed and he drew in a shallow breath. He tasted blood when he breathed from his mouth, his nose. Once, he’d slipped under the water in the pool as a young child. He remembered sputtering for air, gasping as he tried to draw himself to the surface to breathe.
In a better time, he remembered his brother at his side, pulling him up to the surface. He remembered the breath of air that filled his lungs like it was his first.
He felt like he was drowning again—and then, suddenly, someone had pulled him to the surface. He felt a hand on his arm, not so unlike when his brother had grabbed him when he was sinking.
He drew in a sharp breath of air—and screamed.
Sanidine’s grip on Adria had not been friendly; he’d seen the young man drifting into unconscious and did the only thing that seemed logical at that time; he twisted his arm behind his back until it popped and Adria was sent reeling into awareness. His scream was choked and he spat blood from his mouth. He was back to begging but the words were lost on Sanidine.
Metallia would be happy with this, he figured.
He shouldn’t have dragged it out for so long but Adria kept moving.
Sanidine hit him with the butt of his sword and slammed his face into the cement again.
Adria wasn’t moving so much anymore; he was bleeding, and Sanidine could see him breathing. Not much, but it was enough to make Sanidine realize that he was exhausted. He was starving. But he could think again. The pain was gone—mostly, sans a very dull throb that might have just been because he’d overexerted himself.
He crouched near to Adria. “Hey,” he said after a second.
Adria didn’t respond.
“…Are you awake?”
Still, Adria didn’t respond.
Sanidine stood and kicked him, hard, in the ribs.
No amount of acting skill could have allowed Adria to lay their motionless for that; he let out a cry and curled away from Sanidine.
“Thought so.”
Sanidine stood and looked down at Adria.
The drive to hurt was gone; this wasn’t even a worthwhile target. In some strange way, he was grateful to Adria.
For the first time in days, Sanidine felt like himself. Sane enough to realize that he had enough blood on his hands. Sane enough to realize that he was tired. A pressure that had built up had escaped and while it was an unconventional method, he felt better.
Adria’s eyes were open and on him, but he looked like he might have slipped into unconsciousness. Or worse.
And Sanidine didn’t care.
He summoned his swords and examined them; it had felt good to use them. He could finish the job, right here. It would take one good cut, and Adria wasn’t moving. He couldn’t run away, couldn’t fight back. He could just look up at him weakly.
Their eyes met; Adria was searching again, for some shred of humanity, or some shred of understanding.
Sanidine wasn’t sure what he was looking for. He didn’t say anything, just watched Adria. His grip on the swords tightened and he raised one arm as if he intended to swing it down.
Adria closed his eyes—distinctively not a flinch.
If Sanidine hadn’t known better, he might have thought the Senshi was giving up.
It was just about as good as dead. His grip loosened and after a brief pause he dismissed his swords. If the Senshi had no will to live, he wouldn’t. As far as Sanidine was concerned, it was out of his hands now. He looked down at his blood covered hands and grimaced; the liquid felt thick and tacky. He wiped it on his coat, disgusted with the texture.
His stomach churned—not with disgust or rage or anger. Just hunger.
Adria didn’t hear footsteps; the last thing he’d seen before he closed his eyes was the sword raising up. He never felt it come down and after a few long seconds he found himself wondering if it had already happened. If dying was really just that easy. He hurt still, in pulsating waves. His face hurt. His arm hurt. His back, his sides.
Everything hurt.
His lungs were burning but he held his breath for as long as he could. When he inhaled, he cracked an eye, expecting to see Sanidine there.
He was met with only empty space and the clearest view of the night sky he could ever remember seeing in Destiny City. He breathed in slowly, trying to figure out if he was just imagining things. Focusing was difficult but through the fog he was able to tell one thing: he was alone.
There was no energy signature. No Chaos, no Order. It was just him. He was alone.
Maybe it was a trap. Maybe Sanidine was testing him. Maybe he wanted to make this as painful as possible. Adria didn’t know; he couldn’t think clearly enough to understand why Sanidine had done anything of this.
Adria reached for his phone; he couldn’t go to his homeworld. He’d just be asking for a slow death. He’d never really been hurt, not like this, but if television shows were any indication of how much the human body could handle, he was either going to survive without a scar or be dead in the next fifteen seconds.
The pocket with his phone was empty; the injuries he’d sustained already made it difficult to look around but he craned his head backwards. The world was upside down but it was easier than getting up. Tiredly, he scanned the ground.
His phone was there, only a few feet away. With his good arm, he reached, but it was such a strain that his limb just flopped weakly to the ground. Even if he stretched, it was out of reach.
Three feet had never looked so intimidating.
Adria didn’t know if he could do it. He hadn’t cried when Sanidine was hitting him. It didn’t matter if he’d wanted to, or if his body’s instant reaction had been to leak tears like that would drain the pain. But he felt it, crawling up his throat, when he looked at the phone. It might as well have been torture to leave it so close because it felt so far away.
He couldn’t give up. He couldn’t just not do it. He knew what would happen. The prospect of death was frightening to him; his body immediately chilled. It was a sobering thought; if he could just reach it, maybe he’d e okay. Maybe.
But that meant he had to drag himself there.
He was frozen by the thought of effort, afraid of what moving meant. Afraid of how much it would hurt. Once, he tried to roll over but the pain on his chest was so strong that he was certain his bones were stabbing right into his heart. A dry sob, of anger as much as pain, pushed its way out of him. He was ashamed of it, but there was no one here to hear it. It was just him.
He could live with the shame if it just meant that he would live.
Adria sucked up the greatest breath that he could manage and dug his feet into the ground beneath him. He was trembling; he didn’t know what to expect but he knew it would hurt. He pushed as hard as he could, as fast as he could.
The fabric on his back was torn and Sanidine had done some damage, though he didn’t have any idea how much. The asphalt dug into his back as he pushed himself over the sandpapery surface. He shuddered and leaned his head back. The phone was closer, but not close enough.
One more time.
His legs felt like they were ready to give out on him. He didn’t think he had much left in him. Once more, he dug his heels into the ground and pushed.
He let out another choked noise of pain but it twisted into a weak laugh when he felt the cold metal of his phone bump his cheek.
He had a chance.
