Copyright © 2021 by Markovas
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Chapter 1
Larrylon

Surface of azure, surface uneven and rather alive, it’d bobble up and down in a rhythm of swish, undisturbed and influential until it’d meet the barrier of moss and riddles of corals-glued. Every crash of wave would rumble like soothing wind of manifest that’d take its leave and unexpectedly would come back again, again and again.

The distance was clear and the unseen could be seen in the great gap, where the lively liquid glistened teary in gratefulness to the still-warm autumn smile that was bathing the land in life. There was also the part of green and gray in that same far away sight that slept and stretched by the playful blue, the province of Plovdio with the oceanic railway transportation passage standing tall in the middle, as it made connection between civilizations. An exemplary feat of engineering and architecture the people of this great country had given to existence.

The sky ached healthily in cobalt and the air carried the rich scent of salt and dampness with the occasional sounds of pretentious seagulls noisying about. Ships of different sizes and uses bounced gently over the reflecting deepness, while some were partially underneath it with rusty frames and long-forgotten names, yet not entirely forsaken like those on the bottom-unclear where the mucky earth was swallowing them slow and sure.

Lots of waste had gathered round like hungry crowds of starvation around the mossy walls of concrete-tall of the harbor, where long ropes dangled in thick brown and shades of wear that time had given in its fair influential share.

There, on the edge of the tall concrete of discolor, sat a lanky man in a white button-up shirt, while his black coat, in harmony with his trousers, hung on his sides so as to get more heat to easily flee his lively body. His hands, rugged in gentleness, held half a recently baked bread, from which he’d peel small pieces that’d leave crumbs to separate in unwillingness to freedom.

He’d throw the chunks on the wooden quay of moldiness of the harbor below, where sailors were making it crunch and squeak, while seagulls squawked of mass, battled in rattle with each other for the small amounts of tastiness-fallen, at the expense of those around in bustle-busy.

Yet, that was the exact reason why Reil was enjoying himself so much as down there were people who had done him wrong, and thorning them right now, even if rather insignificant, was aiding in the bubbling of his already vibrant mood. Especially as he could see the indignation on the old sailor’s face, with moldy wears, who was glaring at him through misty blue battered by the flow of time.

The tarpaulin the old man was hiding underneath, and the slippery planks, gave way to Reil’s imagination of the old man sliding and finally breaking his neck as the years lived surely were too much. Why did he have to suffer more? Yet… if the ancient sailor would escape him easily, who would Reil annoy then? This coral-infested-looking creature gave way to the best of reactions!

Reil just couldn’t miss the opportunity to throw more oil into the fire, thus his tidy mouth opened slightly into his weasel grin, and with devilish flick, he waved at the old sack of expired meat in between another throw of bread that was bigger than all the previous. The old sailor muttered a definite curse and broke his waned gaze of failure that fed Reil a sleazy load of pride of his achievement.

There was this saying about respecting your elders… but he didn’t know his elders and all the rest were just fussy-prejudiced assholes. Of course not all of them, there were gentle and friendly ones, but the bad overpowered the good in numbers. How could he respect someone who didn’t respect him? Pft, they could go choke on a fish!

Larrylon. Even in its filthy state and abundance of unfriendly individuals of poverty, it somehow felt right, it felt somehow attractive in a rather twisted way. It felt home.

The high crime rates, lack of adequate jobs, not enough education or healthy environments, all of that was easily brushed off as normal and usual for this place at the edge of the giant metropolis of Apenion. Here you could do whatever you wanted. Police rarely would come as people would just keep to themselves, because trouble sought only those who sought it in turn. People who snitched were viewed inferior than scum.

Still, such didn’t mean surprises never caught up to him as he’d hear stories about cities underneath the ground, disfigured fiends that were once people, pits with ancient beings and other far-fetched stories of biblical fiction. Of course most were just urban legends that fueled the fires of fear and wonder, the belief in the supernatural and extraordinary.

Yet not all seemed to be myth, as he had personally met people who’d talk about such a place. A place of dark, a place of cold, a place of unimaginable danger. Rarely would any of them deviate in changes of descriptions that’d be painted in the overall end, because they’d speak poorly and would lack structure of grammar, which in turn lessened the doubt even more within his mind…

It seemed the criminals weren’t those committing the atrocities here and around, it were those who kept them behind locked doors and allowed them to continue to repeat, repeat and repeat. Reil wasn’t a hypocrite by thinking as such.

He knew he was one of those men who’d rather stay in the dirt than lose his life just because he’d think he could make a difference to the already established world order that had taken decades of formations, tons of blood, hundreds of thousands of graves, unfathomable strings of grief and misery…

No, he liked the happiness he had, and if preserving it meant being the scum society thought he was, he was going to fight for it tooth and nail.

A big piece of him wanted to believe about the parts of such hidden cities existing, because they sounded so big and different which in turn gave push to curiosity that his young self still harbored in energies-unmeasured. The shininess of Apenion, its diversity and colors held wonder in his eyes for some time, but where he had lived had imprinted itself onto his brain in a way to appreciate and feel attraction towards the ruins and chaotic design. The old wooden houses, the unplastered brick walls and graveled off-roads, the wild parks and fields… it all equaled to some sort of freedom… dangerous… limitless… freedom…

That was why this unique place under the world had him interested so much, it gave the impression to carry so much more possibilities than this area could even give way to his fantasies, ways for a better life and an expunge from where he was. Seeing groups and organizations illicit was what thrust him to want and create something alike, to have somewhat a family that would accept him for who he was… Today was the step towards that future that he believed to be inevitable and calcified to invulnerability.

But the big difference of his dream and path, the major change that was to be made was that the ways of illegality were going to be a nag of the past. There was no need to muddle into the dangerous deposits where greed ruled and betrayal was as occasional as the leakage of sewage in Larrylon. It was so simple, as he had realized legal ways to do what they were doing, but at such an angle that the law deemed it honorable, even if that was laughable and rather disrespectful to the word itself.

All it’d take was knowledge about what was allowed, all he needed was to know what could be exploited and brought forth in use of lackful contrition that would fade away slowly in the memory of yesterday, a decaying feeling of once upon a time, a point in time of warning that’d whisper advice for mistakes to not be repeated. All it was going to take was a step forward, a step into the light and the progressive.

Today was the day…

His eyes narrowed into the depths of his memory as he wondered if something was wrong and amiss, to which his peepers glanced at the sun, blazing above at a spot close to the time of mid-day, which got his unburdened hand to tap and to reach for his opened coat. Then his nose caught a certain scent, one of great familiarity but in mingle of something fruity, yet time ran out for contemplation as the fabric of something and the weight of another glued to his back, while pressure moved in front his throat and pulled back in par with his loss of breath.

He saw sleeves of dark-blue and skin of white, but the sheer panic that someone wanted to harm him got his fingers to dig into the arms of squeeze and his legs to thrash in the air with futility. The bread had fallen to his side and he wasn’t seeing any way out, but to push his weight forward and into the thirsty sea, even if that’d ruin the prospects of today. His life was deemed more important that an opportunity that could be harvested again in time.

But then it hit him to lessened efforts as he frowned. “Asshole…” The struggle around his throat subsided slowly but instead of the weight on his back of removing, legs surrounded him in the same presence as those sleeves. A breath hotter than the air around him blew next to his cheek.

“Caught ya on, R!” came the gentle voice of the other smiling man, which got Reil’s bubbling infuriation to step down in a rolling motion. The intimate hold he was caught in didn’t even bother him one bit, yet he felt some of his pride break in being seized so easily off guard.

“Didn’t even do it right…” Reil muttered under his breath with a snort coming from his side where his friend leaned onto his shoulder and moved closer to his collar, rumpling his silky coat a bit. The closeness was turning slightly uncomfortable but he knew fully what his friend was trying to do, and Reil wasn’t going to humor him with a reaction.

“It’s not like I wanted to… Just… a surprise?” the young man said hesitantly with traces of regret of what he had done. Reil smirked in response as he knew that Tristan’s heart was so big, he could never keep up a ruse for more than necessary, which was good for Reil. But at the same time, he wanted his friend to take charge of himself and be able to overcome anything. It didn’t matter that Reil’d be the one paying the price, because his friend moving on and getting stronger was a goal unvoiced, a goal Reil shared.

“Ugh, stop getting flustered, Tris,” he dusted off his hand with a flick into the air, and put it in front Tristan’s face. “You seem ready?” Reil asked, but as he moved, Tristan’s nose sneezed and got Reil to focus on his-clean shaven face, which resembled his own. Sure, they both looked a bit too young, but crispness was the first step to any successful leap.

“Yea… got what you asked me of,” one of Trsitan’s hands disengaged from Reil, pulling a black briefcase towards the edge and into Reil’s satisfaction, “You think… it’ll work out?” Tristan asked with wobbly angst, which got Reil’s attention to flick in surprise.

“Hey, you’re the one supposed to have the hope!” Reil blurted out with his present emotions, Tristan’s eyes widening as his mouth plummeted into Reil’s shoulder with a long exhale.

“I do… it’s… just nervous and all,” Tristan whispered with eyes aimed elsewhere. This was understandable, and there was always the chance of something going south. But such was unacceptable to occur, as Reil himself had organized this exchange.

Responsibility.

Reassurance… that was what he could give his friend, reassurance and comfort, even if that played a bit outside his own gardens of convenience he had built around. Thus, Reil let him stay as he was, and even caressed the top of his hair. Just there Tristan disengaged and sat next to him, attention now aimed at the quay.

“Hey… why’s he glaring at us?” Tristan asked in a gesture down. It didn’t take Reil much to figure out whom it was being talked about, after all, that deep and hateful glare could be easily seen from kilometres away.

“Cuz he’s an old spiteful fart. Doubt he likes himself even. Don’t tell me he’s getting to you?” At the question asked, Tristan shuffled with distress in answer, yet Reil kept his mouth shut and just patiently observed the contradictions.

“Wh— I just… no… no he isn’t.” Reil bumped his fist into Tristan’s shoulder and smiled as to encourage confidence, to encourage strength against those malicious bastards who’d try and get to them.

Reil massaged the gap between his eyebrows and stood from the edge of discolored steel, encased on the rim of the wall. His hands cleaned the pieces of rust from around his pants where he had sat, and then pulled onto the lapels of his coat as to get it in place. With a motion that rolled him around the balls of his shoes, he took full scrutiny for his friend sat before him.

In front of him, fresh as freshness could get, stood a fully formal man in an dark-blue coat and trousers that were hugging his lean frame perfectly, an indigo tie nestled in between the cyan collar of his shirt.

Reil was always observant to details and was quick to eat all Tristan had to offer, especially the worn watch on his right wrist that had a frame of silver and oaken straps. He wasn’t going to beat around the bush in his mind, Tristan looked incredibly acute and even charming, as if he had grown in age by several years. He’d definitely fit for a man of class, and the only thing he lacked was confidence and resources. But who needed that when one could use their tongue to conjure such.

“Something wrong?” Tristan asked through a lowered head as if Reil’s staring was interpreted like dissatisfaction, to which Reil was quick to break off his trance of stupor to a chuckle of delight. Something definitely was wrong, as tightness squeezed in his lungs, surely due to the suffocating vapor of the sea behind him.

“You took my advice too far!” Tristan’s shoulders sagged, but Reil’s heart prickled to clarify. “Where’d you find this even?!” He closed the distance between them and grabbed both sides of his friend who got up.

“Aren’t new… resized them at som— I think I know why they weren’t expensive, but there’s no smell! B-but… if they’re ba— I can fi—”

“Hey, hey! Stop being a knucklehead,” Reil pulled on Tristan’s lapels, his mouth hanging in great confusion. “You’ve outdone yourself, outstanding job!” Reil cheered through a beaming smirk that got his friend’s head to finally move up in increasing confidence, trying to match the height of Reil’s.

“Oh, yes… thanks, I thought that… you didn’t like it and… y-yea…” Tristan exhaled sharply and tugged on his collar, which got Reil’s brow to furrow up and his smirk to evolve into a grin from the inexperience shown before him.

“Tho… you’ve done some parts wrong, Tris,” Tristan’s eyes of focus flung open in concern yet again, hands defensively grabbing one another in front of him.

“Making deals is about confidence. One of the ways of showing it is through looks,” his body moved closer, hands reaching for the buttons of Tristan’s coat. “I know you’re a perfectionist and think sharpness is the way… but…” two of the blue buttons sneaked through the fabric and the coat opened.

“By showing them lack of care for such perfection is confidence. And you can’t do that when you can’t breathe.” Reil pointed at Tristan’s belt, who flinched and was quick to undo the constriction. Knowing that time was moving, Reil fixed Tristan’s shirt and touched the material of his indigo necktie.

“Right…” Tristan murmured.

“Great! So… where was I…?” Reil’s finger tapped tie, his mind easily finding the lost needle in the hay. “By showing lack of care for a perfect look and mixing it with the strength of defiant words, you can achieve a menacing effect of power… even if it can be just an illusion.” Reil wanted to see approval and awe, but the shock was nothing like the characteristics of such. It brought uneasiness to rumble.

“But… I don’t want to be menacing!” Tristan blurted out in restiveness, but Reil shushed him as the top button of Tristan’s collar fell and exposed something greatly unexpected to Reil’s confused eyes.

A black leather collar with a golden frame and shiny ruby nestled in the middle, hidden behind that button-unfastened. Why was Tristan wearing exactly that? It wasn’t just a random jewelry or a cheap fashion token. It was a relic and a prized possession Reil knew well, especially to whom it used to belong.

“This is… your mother’s… why ar—” He couldn’t finish, his own voice overtaken by the panic before him. It appeared Tristan didn’t want to talk about why and who, and Reil was going to respect it.

“It brings luck! Thought we’ll need as much as we can get… I mean… I can take it off if yo—” But Reil’s brows flicked at the words and his eyes scanned Tristan from head to waist, his fingers going underneath the knot of the long tie, gently pulling it off the collar.

“Just want to try something…” Reil said under his breath with his pink tongue out, his concentration upon the matter. His hands removed a button, but when he was to undo another was when Tristan showed him his lack of approval. Reil frowned at the inconvenience, but after some intent staring, he sighed in defeat and backed up as to see the finality of his ingenious tinkering.

Tristan had slightly slumped himself, but Reil made a motion with his finger and the posture was fixed, the incredible sharpness was dulled and was now replaced with a new aura that gave the illusion of power and resourcefulness. This was translated by the recently forced lack of care and opened shirt, while the jewelry Reil thought was going to be out of place actually seemed to fit perfectly in the scene. It wasn’t feminizing Tristan but pulling forth more influence into the picture.

“So?” Tristan asked with hands up, which fell and flapped on his thighs. Reil contemplated for the right words but as no shore was evident for anchor, he gulped the hesitance and decided against his better judgment.

“If I were a hoe, it’s the first room we found… or alley.” The comment seemed to have done it, and a definite blush overtook Tristan whose hands scratched one another, his mouth trying to formulate a response of failure that didn’t lead to anything but silence.

Reil took that moment of marvel to realize a fault within himself as well. “Should follow my own advice as well, eh?” His hands reached for his own necktie that had already been loosened, and he hastily removed it, leaving more exposure to his clear chest.

“Ready?” Reil was just to reach for the black suitcase when he saw the remaining leftovers of bread on the rusty surface, the ideas in his mind trickling in smugness. After all, karma was such a nasty hoe, she’d bite and thrash and bash… it was all fair if something… happened.

“He’s still looking at us, R,” Tristan said in a voice that mirrored a whisper, which still carried evident hurt in the notes, getting Reil’s frustration to simmer in his veins. But the idea solidified as a seagull passed close with wings opened wide as if it were ready to levitate in the air. The opportunity made Reil’s chest to tickle in a gurgle of chuckle, as what was to happen just filled him full of incoming joy.

His hand grabbed the piece of bread, which was taking the road to rockiness, and with a peep at the crowd of noisy birds and angry sack of expired-sailor-meat, whose prejudice was even dirtier than the waters around, he pushed the bread at Tristan’s chest.

“You were good at basketball in school. A clean one? Inside the wooden boat with the battered tarp, where the old pile of fishy meat is.” Reil pointed at the old sailor who crossed his tattooed hands in the distance, Tristan narrowing his eyes in aching hesitation, until he frowned deeply and grabbed the piece of trouble from Reil.

“20 bucks I’ll hit the radio on the table.”

“Nah, but do hit that radio.” With a side snort and a raised hand behind his back, Tristan threw the remaining piece of nutrition high in the air, and unsurprisingly the hungry beasts below saw it as if it was a burning meteorite falling from the sky. Another insane ruckus blew as they jumped into the breeze and towards the destination that was the poor sailor’s boat. His expression spoke of crushing panic that was sealed when the golden piece of problems bumped into the noisy radio and fell into the boat that was seconds later filled with white, gray and yellow; sounds of brawls and yells and crashes.

“Fuckin’ pissheads! I’ll stuff’o plank in’o asses y—” But his anger-filled voice was now mingled with the distance as Reil and Tristan had both trailed elsewhere in laughter away from the harbor and towards the city. But before they were to cross another road, Reil stopped abruptly with the suitcase in hands, blowing a whistle at his friend.

“Store the ties,” he said absentmindedly and clicked-open the black rectangle which gave view to a folder with documents and notes and pens that looked rather elegant. Tristan came close to him and Reil handed him the suitcase, his hands grabbing the ties from his coat’s pocket and rolling them appropriately so they wouldn’t wrinkle.

“The place is somewhere between the border of Upwork and the Amazonia.” Tristan’s mouth opened but closed in a snap, as if he knew he’d be answered even without asking. “I’ve got it all covered, don’t tie your mind in a knot.”

That was when Reil stored the second long piece of fashion in the case and closed it shut with a satisfying snap, taking it by the handle in his hand. Amusement got him to chuckle to where his friend was at.

“You’re standing in the gutter,” Reil said to Tristan’s immediate yelp, and Tristan jumped in place with pieces of dirt and filth flying around him, his leap landing him on the sidewalk, his brown shoes dragging on the stone slabs as to get any of the disgust off him.

“I’ll reek now….” But before he could befriend despondency, Reil got to his side and extended a hand around his neck with a pull as to get his attention, his silver tongue drowning in unvoiced sass.

“If you’ve had enough of marveling yourself for today, let’s get to business.” His hand pulled on the collar with a finger, which got Tristan to exhale sharply and to try and get his balance back from the leaned position he had been forced by Reil.

“I’m not boast—”

“Ahh, here you go at it again, tck-tck,” Reil mocked and received a low growl of warning from his trapped friend. Not wanting to receive a nasty reaction, Reil decided not to further the jokes as his supposed innocent friend wasn’t that of such to begin with. With that in mind, he pushed forward and they moved anew towards the end of the street, while the liveliness of the neighborhood was filled with drilling, shouting and overall industrialism. At least there weren’t any gunshots during the day, like at night…

“I was wondering of doing that thing around my…” The words got Reil’s attention stolen as he strangely looked at his beaming companion who was shyly indecisive in continuation. Where was he thinking of doing what… Why was there this heart-squeeze that whispered nothing but trouble?

“You know… down there?” Tristan pointed at his groin, Reil staring dumb, until Tristan’s smirk spoke-unspoken.

“Dude! Why’re you telling me this!?” He released the grip quickly and made safe space between the both of them. He wasn’t bashful about such subjects, but he really didn’t want to talk about such topics with Tristan, as he could sometimes lose himself and just go into such details which could make even Reil’s cheeks turn red.

“You’re overreacting… It can add tremendous effects, yea?”

“Why-are-you still talking about this, Tris! Argh!” Reil hissed as his eyes made haste to the other side of the sidewalk, where he tried to refocus himself on a group of people who were playing cards on a makeshift table from cardboard. One of the bigger men had a huge grin that was evident of his failure to keep a poker face and use that to his advantage.

“Ughm… wanted to hear your… thoughts?” Tristan mumbled in embarrassment, yet it was so simple to just catch the curious notes that begged Reil to just humor and talk with him about this. It was slowly chipping on his denial to do so with his eyes hesitantly moving in front and sideways to the expectancy-perverse.

“My thoughts are. We shouldn’t be talking about these things. You don’t even need that to swoon anyone, hah!” Reil threw his hands in the air with a fake smirk and nearly collided with a woman walking by, had it not been luck and agility.

“Any one,” Tristan added slowly but surely to Reil’s twinkle. Why had Tristan just said that specific segment? Curiosity, curiosity and more curiosity.

“Ehm, yea. Whatever oils your rod, dude.”

“You’re thinking about it now?” Tristan cheekily interjected from the silence of the noisy district which got Reil to nearly stop moving and lose pace, if it were not for his will forcing his legs to forge on and spit on defeat with defiance.

“I’m no— Oh you little shithe—” It appeared that Tristan had finally managed to get under his skin, a gradual but sure build-up that was carefully made in response to Reil’s teasing. But Reil wasn’t going to let him roam his lips free like that anymore and the only way to shut the crafty weasel in flashy attire was to slap where the nerves spread most. Reil moved close to him as they walked by a pile of trash on the sidewalk, and as he received a lolling tongue from Tristan, Reil slapped the back of his semi-exposed neck in a loud plack.

Tristan’s shoulders slumped to his skull and his hands flung to Reil’s, but Reil squeezed in a massageful motion. All ended in an instant as Tristan harshly turned around with curled lips.

“Cut it off!” he shouted, Reil’s hand pulling up with the inhabited grin of satisfaction and a wagging chuckle.

Tristan glowered and continued on. They had passed a lot of cars that were parked next to the sidewalk or on it entirely as there were no regulations being enforced by anyone from the government. None of the enforcers from the institutions wanted to be close to this place because they weren’t used to such difference in lifestyle, such dangerous difference if one didn’t know how to look behind their back.

“Yea… we’re here, tantrum-mouth,” Reil said as he stood next to a red coupe with worn-out paint parked next to the sidewalk, which he tapped with his finger. His head swung in a gesture as to show his friend to come back and hop in, while unlocking the door to the passenger’s side and skirting in front as to get in.

His eyes finally caught a great detail that was some meters away from the red vehicle. It was a jeep surely meant for a bigger person, a jeep which’s roof was entirely caved in with glass shattered all around in tiny speckles of glistens. It made Reil’s goosebumps to crawl all around his back, the signs of construction slabs splattered around the road to a sign of bad luck and increased probability of the same happening to his car.

“Isn’t this N—” Tristan tried to say but Reil quickly unlocked his side and got in from dread that something else might fall on them from negligence or mistake. What if a crane cracked because of cheap or unmaintained machinery and unreliable workhands? This small car would be leveled like a pancake.

A loud screech of metal came from above and Reil instantly turned the ignition. Why was his buddy giving him the look? “What?! You saw that jeep, quit staring at me.”

Reil scowled and shifted into gear, with liquid fuel entering the veins of the engine. A car passed by them in a flash, speeds way over the speed limit, which wasn’t something new or strange, while the side-view mirror showed Reil a big truck incoming with speeds-unknown. He wanted to get in front of it, but the words ‘Objects in mirror are closer than they appear to be’ got his hopes to die and breath to surrender in patient impatience.

The truck got by in a snail’s manner, loud crashes from collision of the wheels into the holes, but it finally carried its length and gave way to movement, which Reil took as a chance to get out of the trap and get on with this journey. He got close to the back of the truck, and due to how slow it drove, he had to get ahead.

The large steel box on wheels was just sluggish as hell as the driver was surely careful not to hit anything on the narrow road that was riddled with parked cars-cars-cars.

The dashboard kept cracking from the unkempt asphalt where tracks of vehicles had moved onto many-many times in repeats of unknown numbers. Reil opened the arm rest in the middle of the car, from where he pulled out an outdated radio that he quickly attached to the power supply itself in the middle of the dashboard, where light poured in blue.

But then, because he was too close to the slow truck, the car fell into a big hole that made the whole frame scrunch on itself to a deafening yelp from both metal and flesh.

Reil’s jaw clenched as he cursed through the depths of his mind and shifted into a lower gear that got the engine to roar with the bigger cycles. The gas pedal was smashed flat against the floor with the car filling the momentum with speed and getting on the side of the long and sluggish beast that hid traps underneath its tail.

Reil’s grip upon the wheel tightened as he saw a car in the distance, a prickle finding his gut, telling him that he wasn’t going to make it due to the narrow passage that left no choice but the one forward.

“R-R-Reeeeeeiiilll!!” Tristan yelled as he grabbed the handle above the door. The car in front of him wasn’t lowering its speed, as if the driver there wanted to go through them with steel and pain for the bad decision that was made. It got Reil’s leg to hesitate and release slightly off the pedal which got the car to stall and lose momentum. Yet he tried fixing the giant mistake by smashing his foot right back again, screams drenching his head for this stupidity.

His breath became plain and uncomfortable with the quickly developing situation. It got his mind to spit at the decision made amidst anger… But then the truck hit the brakes and its speed became flat, to which Reil grabbed the chance, feathers away from the front of the opposite vehicle, which passed through with speed that rattled the red coupe’s whole existence like a tornado.

A loud horn pierced the air from behind them, getting Reil’s goosebumps to evolve into a porcupine’s back.

Reil’s eyes carefully gave images to Tristan who was holding with both hands on the handle-still, yet Reil focused back on the road, imprinting on the mistake for the rest of his life.

His hand rolled down the window, air flooding in. His mind needed a distraction and got him to trail to the radio where his trembling finger missed the power button several times in frustration, until he clasped a knuckle and drove it into the poor electronic. The insides filled with loud death metal music, getting both men to bellow at the ear desolation. Why was this screamer still screaming?!

The channel was changed and with it came a slow-paced song of rock. Reil relaxed internally, the grip on the wheel

Chapter 2
Opportunities

Colors of nature everywhere mixed in the sturdiness of brown bark and fallen leaves that carpeted the slippery roads, sidewalks and other surfaces reached. The wide trunks of kapoks and coast redwood were riddling the scenery around the rather quiet road with vines around the tall bodies of the oxygen-infusing giants which towered high in the sky. Their shade cast with majestic crowns that in the autumn would look like thin gold paper, yet autumn never could reach this place of control and eternity chosen by those with the rightful tools of power.

Tree houses were everywhere around those same giants and inside their bodies, while bridges of rope and wood moved left and right with people passing through them. Water was practically far and wide as the humidity was just almost at a peak, while small rivers flowed around lower levels and linked into where swampiness rested with lilies and other fauna that had taken refuge tight amidst this breathtaking biome of wilderness and tameness.

Rain didn’t seem to have much of a kick today as it lightly dropped on the lively windshield of a red coupe that was moving fast through the thick curtains of hidden evaporation. The wheel of the vehicle hit an inconveniently sleeping rock on the worsening road that seemed to be reaching its end, where a large part of the swamp echoed in frog choirs and mosquito frenzies, chanting a single unintelligible word: food!

The inside of the car crunched hard from the impact which got Reil’s teeth to snap in reflex, while his friend was holding onto the roof handle with a sheer expression of haunt as Reil drove them closer and closer to the end where the uneven asphalt changed into gravel.

The gravel was spat from behind, something that would’ve definitely translated into disaster if somebody was idiotic enough to follow close with intent of outdriving the small red speeder.

Reil’s mind was plagued in prayers that nothing else would happen to the already stained car, as Nas would just make him wish he was never born, due to him promising her he needed it to get to the DMV for some… documents. Yet, he couldn’t move his foot away from the gas as that’d mean they’d miss their transport. It was the only way of getting to where they were heading, and the transport was already blazing fire close to the roofed construction with its long, wooden dock.

The space for parking was clear, some cars here, one specific vehicle completely overtaken by vines and other vegetation that the forest had ordered to advance and retake the lost. Reil’s eyes chose the closest spot to the front of the sheltered walkway, and he hit the brakes as hard as he could, the car flashing through the opening with puddles-agitated forced to flee their comfortable holes of home.

The screeches of brakes, in mix with the yelps of his blood-drained friend, spaced through the surroundings, while the wheel Reil was handling wasn’t listening to him. The tires tried to slip into a drift that was going to definitely send them into the swamps where they’d dine with the frogs, crocs and other creatures that had found a home in this new and colorful world.

The rear of the car tried to give way into an uncontrollable spin and nearly grazed a slumbering jeep’s bumper of blue steel, but luck had a say in this fateful day. Luck wasn’t usually pushy but today it appeared needy to show superiority over the two men’s lives.

Reil’s heart squeezed like the grip of his hands, while his feet were floating in stress with crippling stingy nerves that wanted to stop this disaster. But there wasn’t anything else to do, yet he did when he rotated the wheel to the other side in resistance to the calamity.

It got the car on the straight path, while the speed lowered to the point where it ceased existing, with something slipping from behind him and falling in between the seats.

He managed to make the stop perfectly in the marked space just in front of the sign No Swimming Allowed! The clutch was prematurely released and the car choke silent. This surely had ground the transmission, but he didn’t care anymore and just dropped his head on the wheel in relief.

The horn protested loudly that got another surge of panic to flush his body, while his head slowly realized the fault for which he didn’t have time to murmur himself at.

With a harsh turn around, he noticed Tristan still holding for the assist grip on the ceiling with trembles of doom. Reil didn’t find that amusing as the fire in the distance was making his teeth to chisel.

Reil’s hand flung at the rear deck behind him and pulled down both the coats that were blocking the rear-view mirror pretty heftily. He grabbed his and threw the other at his still-shocked friend’s lap.

“Come on, pineboy!” Reil blurted out, pushing his hands through the sleeve holes in the small space of the extinguishing warmth of the car. Reil knew they could forget something in the rush, but then again, what were they even carrying more than that briefcase and their own bodies… Oh wait, and the umbrella on the rear deck, behind his head rest that he had strategically snatched cheap for exactly this of an occasion.

Pulling the briefcase out of the middle with ease, the patters of rain on the ceiling increased, which lowered Reil’s distrust at the possibility of leakage getting through the black briefcase. He hadn’t put them in punched pockets after all.

“We w-were… g-going to… d-die…” Tristan whispered, making Reil to notice him in clinch’s encasement of navy cloth.

“Don’t be a drama queer,” the comment phased out Tristan’s shock that turned into a glare, stopping Reil’s hasty preparations for the exit.

“You drove like a savage madman!”

“Thanks to you!”

“Wh— you said there was time— I didn’t ask you to.”

“Exactly my point,” Reil returned in a grin to Tristan’s falter in nervousness to determination’s stomp, so he just put on his coat and straightened out his lapels with a hard yank. The swampiness ahead appeared alive in the disturbance of droplets, and then Reil’s nostrils flared in air, the exhale deciding his mind, “Let’s get it started.”

His hand reached for the door and he pushed it open, which vacuumed in humidity that mixed in with the car’s air and got his nose to tickle. The drops of rain reached for his wrist and got his exit to increase in haste, the briefcase hitting the door and getting stuck as he tried to shut it absentmindedly.

Reil’s lips curled up and he fixed the mistake as fast as possible, while the key to the car agilely went into the lock and almost twisted shut if not for a gray realization that stood out through the rainy window and inside the car, waiting patiently to be forgotten and left alone in the dryness and cosy surroundings.

The suitcase was thrown on the roof of the car with fragments of Tristan exiting on the other side as quickly as possible, while Reil pulled open the door to which the keys jingled inside the lock. The gray umbrella was taken and opened quickly to the humidity.

Reil flung the keys across to his friend who managed to barely catch them and lock the other side of the door, while Reil grabbed the damp briefcase and plopped through puddles made from the uneven gravel of the unfinished parking lot.

The squelching coolness bathed his shoes, drops falling hopelessly from the rim of the umbrella and tiresomely on his trousers by luck. He pressed on with the same vigor as failure was hanging by threads off his eyelashes.

The overgrown dock had wooden roofs, sprouts happily leafing away in harmony with big leaves of elephant ear plants. They were caressed gently by the soothing breeze, while boats below were submerged enough in evident composure to the environment. Many of those looked like homes with tarps around the windows, mastheads and additional construction welded or fitted. Some of it even looked like Larrylon’s living situation…

But Reil didn’t even peel a glance at those details, as the main goal was before him in the form of a big basket with a giant-orange balloon above that. The middle of it had the signs of flames, the dancing and fading colors of warmth and attraction. They were increasing in size and in sound as the turbulent burning bounced around the region.

Reil ran.

“Wait up!” came a desperate yell from behind him that sounded rather distant, but Reil knew his friend would be able to keep up, the streets hadn’t given him a chance not to be ready. Reil finally reached the base of the dock where dryness was actually present with trails of footsteps on the sides and middle. He withdrew the umbrella and just rushed like hell.

The moldy wood beneath him creaked defiantly, yet it wasn’t overgrown like the rest of the supports that kept the roof over him from plummeting down aimlessly, although leaves and twigs riddled parts-unclean, while small tubing with wires could be seen in spots of disrepair, usually meant to be hidden.

His muscles heaved his body amidst the intoxication from the adrenaline infusion. They had to make it, the balloon was getting closer but a vine hanging from the top pushed against his sweaty face and tried to hook itself on his coat, his body almost toppling onto the moldy floor below his racing feet.

The only thing keeping destiny-wronged people from meeting their doom were the railings-green which created that safe barrier from plummeting into swampiness of different life. The basket above the heightened end of the dock-unsheltered kept those inside in place, different ethnicity and belongings.

But the door to the convenient district-transport was shut and the roaring fire was now burning hard with hotness filling the air of the balloon above, getting levitation to take its slow but sure course.

Tiredness wasn’t yet able to come to terms into his body due to its suppression, and all he had to do was to take a leap and dig his nails into the knitted surface of the basket. He knew they could make it even if the balloon was gaining distance from the closing peak of the dock’s higher platform.

The elevation increased suddenly and rain again hit his nose and ears, yet he couldn’t open the umbrella as that’d just be the worst choice possible. The overtaken railing on his sides almost hid the distance from the water, but there were spots of degrading control.

Those spots would usually make anyone gulp in tingle, yet Reil’s aim and goals were before him, which got Reil’s shoes to dig harder into the wooden elevation between the spaces of the planks. The slope became even which gave view to the end where more barriers stood with labels of LED. They showed the next arrival that was to be in an hour, time too long and impossible to wait out. It needn’t happen, they were there and the jump was possible, nothing was damn impossible.

Tris…

Reil’s head shot in a glance for assurance to himself that the plan would be met in success. But the moment his eyes grazed the dust behind him was the moment a whirlwind of emptiness bludgeoned forth his mind and limbs, with speed and spirit entirely crushed. His hands grabbed a vine’s moist end that saved him from a swim with the crocs, while a view of missed opportunities flew away, burning into the distance from his remorseful eyes.

Oh, what had they done? The disappointment was different, as it didn’t hold only sorrow and discouragement, but somehow… a touch of ireful maddening at the idea that maybe there had been a possibility for them to hoist themselves above the stereotypes? Such ludicrous thinking, fate had shown him yet again the impossibility of such a desire, the futility in trying to be something else than a shifty lowlife…

He glued off his angry eyes that softened under the weight of his sigh. The discolored green waters and brown tall trees were replaced by a panting man from below the elevated dock. Tristan didn’t have an umbrella and was disgruntle-soaked, as similar to Reil who had surrendered to the fate of rain and loss.

Such a sight would’ve been entertaining if not for his seed of destructiveness that had sprouted in the center of his soul due to failure met head on. Frowny acceptance to the written fate came about as he opened the gray umbrella above his head, because the iciness streaking from the drops was really aggravating as hell for his hot vessel of flesh and blood. But instead of waiting for Tristan to come to him, he did so instead at a faster and bouncier pace.

The shrill dismay on his friend’s face spiked the feverish ire down to just sheer disappointment without inclusion of any additions. It was obvious Tristan was going to go overboard if not stopped, so bodies collided and the two men were now huddled under the only protection from the artificial environment, small feathers of light piercing through the giant green leaves of the massive trees.

“We… w-we m-misse— missed it!?” Tristan whimpered through pants which in turn were wanted by Reil’s own body, but he was forcing himself contained, while the body of his shivering friend pushed harder against as if his eyes didn’t believe the sight of opportunities-escaping from under their noses. His own hands were pre-occupied. Reil had to tell him it was over, to rid him of the shocked trance… “We c-ca— could it be…”

But a thunk came to life next to Reil as he dropped the briefcase and put his hand around his friend’s shoulder. “Is alright… another time’ll come, pal…” But Tristan struggled hard and hints of desperation came to Reil’s ears.

His better judgment got him to release the hold with Tristan stumbling away and into the rankly rain that at least had lowered a tiny fraction. An attempt was made to shield the irrationality, but it was like repulsion of atoms.

“Who knows when that’ll be! All because I wanted to see the stupid trees! Because of my selfishness— we ar— It’s my damn fault, dammit!” Tristan cried out through agony. There wasn’t much more to be said.

Yea, they had seen the whole forest this district was based in and the sea of green was an alluring moment in time, but if they just had abstained from wanting to get the experience, their bodies would’ve been in that basket, today. Sure, it had evidently cost them a great opportunity, but it didn’t mean another wasn’t going to come with time…

There was no need for feeding rage’s guilt. “Tris— hey!” Reil tried to grab Tristan’s attention, but the young irrationality turned his back and rushed off, hence, he had ran with hands pulling down on his bright-brown hair. But Reil wasn’t having any of that, so he dashed quickly in front of Tristan, and stared confidently at the face of burning madness.

“Leave me alone!” Tristan snapped and took a stance of threat, but then his eyes fell and the ire just disappeared. How could it be kept in the wind of reality? Reil for a segment found pain at the behavior he was a victim to, but understanding got him to brush it aside. All was said and done in the heat of the moment.

It wasn’t like they didn’t talk to each other like that, but right now it just felt real and personal with a nagging for Reil to protect himself and just let go. Nonetheless, with Tristan’s reaction to his own behavior, he decided to not take the easy way out.

“Hey… hey, come here,” Reil pleaded and motioned a brotherly hug into calmness of nerves. The touch of bodies and the closeness of trust and familiarity had a great impact upon both of them.

“Come here, that’s right,” Reil reassured and tapped on his friend’s damp back, moving aside shortly after. “You just wanted the umbrella, is that it?” Reil joked lightly, and Tristan snorted, grabbing hold of Reil’s coat and shoving him playfully.

“I didn’t me—”

“You’re an asshole, I know,” Reil interjected humorously. The boats around the dock quietly shuffled above the water. People could be seen moving in the distance from bridges of tree to tree, the sky hidden by the thick groove of nature’s kingdom.

“Lets… sorry, R… ehm… just go back…” Tristan murmured as he glanced away with disappointment evidently aimed at himself, so Reil sighed and was to head back, when his ears spoke something… something almost forgotten.

“Yea…” Reil nudged Tristan’s shoulder and pointed with his finger at the poor briefcase-wet that was dropped forsaken in front the labels where they had missed their chance of a better future. Yet Reil’s mistake didn’t seem to do much of a change but only an annoyed sigh that got the two men to go closer to the object of past interest. This didn’t mean Reil had surrendered, as his mind was still trying to find some way to get to where they were heading, even if the area was unreachable by road, but only air or…

The moment he grabbed the case off the moldy planks was when his eyes shot around the swamp and caught sight of something that got his raging heart to squeeze in excitement, with his restricted disappointment changing into one of glee for the impending. So he put his hand, holding the umbrella, around Tristan’s neck and steered him to the side of the platform.

A camera above on one wooden lamp post oversaw in vigilance for any misdoings that shady people would try and incite, which surely two young men weren’t of any suspicion at all…

“Nah, dude… c’mon. I don’t want to… please,” Tristan begged, but Reil was having none of it and harshly pushed him towards the edge where the hanging overgrowth of railing was.

“Never liked this district. Too much rain if you will, ehh,” Reil spat as they stopped against the damp barrier, his head scrutinizing the giant trees overpopulating the swampiness.

“At least it’s not salty and full of smog,” Tristan murmured and propped his elbows on the protective barrier, patters of rain dropping over the gray shield above their heads.

“I’d prefer that over soaked clothes and friendly animals in the water,” Reil continued the small talk as he looked over the lilies and discolored green, where he knew some ancient beasts were lurking under the disguise of big fish, ancient beasts that had survived for more than anyone else on that matter. The picture of teeth and scales got his instincts to appear like a parody-misplaced in the form of consternation-new that was of consistency to the natural order of dominance.

“I don’t think the animals are scary… people are way worse, R,” Tristan countered dolefully with a glance held for a moment as to show his troubles, while Reil’s tongue moved around in attempts of trying to add something that would ease upon the surroundings. But the pessimistic words that came out only showed how Tristan truly felt, which wouldn’t have been a problem if it were coming from himself only…

“You’re just moody, cheer up!” Reil poked Tristan’s neck and shook him playfully, but Tristan groaned in frustration to the manner of handling and huddled his shoulders closer to himself. Small waves came below the dock that shooed the lilies away with the opportunity coming at a passage to Reil’s ridiculous grin of certainty.

It was an average-sized ship-which mostly consisted of a container in front where trash was scattered in a mountainous pile, while at the stern was the bridge-high, where the blinds were dropped and the people steering the vessel-floating couldn’t be glanced at. The deck was clear apart from a few personnel on the other side of the ship.

“Avast, ye ass!” Reil chuckled aloud, waiting for an opportune moment to do what was on his mind, while Tristan’s gawking at the moving vessel turned petrified.

“Ar— wh— you insane??!” But Reil was having none of that as he tck-tcked patronizingly and tried to see how this was going to play out. The ship was going to cross close to them, as the passage between the platform and the large tree on the other side was kinda narrow. Alas, the captain had definitely done this many times, otherwise they wouldn’t be risking getting sued by the government. Or worse, damaging their own ship.

“Move your lanky ass,” Reil ordered and pushed Tristan to climb over the railing and onto the edge, while eyeing the vessel below that had already passed half of its length by them. Tho Tristan struggled against Reil’s wishes, it seemed that he was accepting some part of the insane suggestion that was scrapped in an instant.

“I don— it’s k-kinda high, R-Reil…” Tristan whimpered as he held onto support.

“Aim for the net,” Reil reassured without giving any time for contemplation, and pushed hard against his friend’s back, which got Tristan to slip his grip from the wood and to fall down screaming.

This was the only way. Of course, that didn’t mean his own heart was devoid of emotion, as the cry of putrid dismay had sneaked across his valves and stung him hard with anxiety, if something was to go wrong and if this had been the right thing to do.

But ropes creaked from below and Reil found Tristan perfectly safe in the grip of the trash net. He shot a sigh of relief and threw his holstered umbrella and briefcase close to Tristan, but the umbrella didn’t reach and fell on the planked surface with a thud below.

Reil climbed quickly on the edge but failed to catch the moment, the moment when he would jump safely onto that same wide net. Rain was now hitting over his head and body. The edge of the planked platform was slippery and the vessel of need-to-board was now a fallacy-probable. This had happened too fast…

Hesitation, limb-freezing hesitation festered in his brain of control, because now he had only the rear of the deck to leap down to, and it was a narrow gap. If he did the jump wrong, he could break something, like a spine or leg, even fall into the swamp… There was no time, he was going to miss his chance and leave his friend alone on that course-unknown ship.

His knees lowered and sprung him into a leap above the misty green, gravity pulling him down to the moving mass of steel, wood, rope, rubber and trash. Seconds stretched thin and everything was racing, as if he had broken the sound barrier.

He wasn’t going to reach the deck, so his hands rowed the air desperately as if trying to make him fly the extra meters, which would’ve appeared to any non-senile person like a ludicrous idea.

Images of him underneath that slimy sludge shot primal horror through him in jolts, and his mind sought for anything to help him, to save him. But the jump was already made.

His body collided with the rim of the deck outside, pushing all air out of him.

What was left was the plunge down.

Chapter 3
Freeshipping

Reil’s hands managed to grab onto the rim, yet slipperiness caught him and his body slid off from his only chance of staying whole, while his mind roamed pits-darkest.

His nails scraped the white paint in trails-uneven, his body falling into doom, but then the cold surface changed, and something else touched him, something coarse and wet. Eyes shot instantly and his hands grabbed the object of salvation in a flash, a thick brown rope that was hanging from the deck-fixated. Reil’s fall stopped and his body swung into the moving mass of ship, to which he used his legs to stop an ultimate collision.

The grouchy rain kept bashing him, but this time it acted as comfort, yet he wasn’t out of danger as the blades of the ship below rumbled the water, and his feet were slippery against the oiled surface watery and cold.

He could do it, he should be able to do it… But before he was to try and probably slip into trouble, a familiar voice came from above.

“Reil! You alright?!” Reil breathed up and caught Tristan’s franticness that lacked any contents of indignation to the fact that he had been pushed down without prior knowledge or consent. Reil would’ve definitely been mad if he were in his shoes.

Yet the vulnerability of the position he had put himself in was draining his abilities to overthink, and he begged whatever god there was for Tristan to just pull him up, thus, he nodded with a gulp in emptiness.

“Ho— I’ll get you. Slowly, R!”

The rope writhed, Reil’s shoes peeling off old layers of paint in the infinity of friction. Balance tho was found and steadiness moved him away from the swampy waters and fierce propellers. All this thanks to the disability of Tristan holding up a grudge, and definitely for the prospect of them getting to their destination on time…

Whatever it was, he couldn’t shy away from the feeling of thankfulness of having such a good friend and…

His foot at that moment slipped and his head banged into steel resonance. His motor function survived to hold him tight, but his eyes were in a blurry haze.

Underneath, the foamy green awaited hungrily as to savor this new and special ingredient called: suited and wet man. Vegetation scattered around the ship as it ploughed a path forward in selfishness of its own needs, caring less for those unsuspecting and those unable.

Reil’s hot breaths filled the air with more suffocation, and his dread was so heavy that it was as if it were pulling him down with every second by. But it all crashed when his bones hit the body of the ship, getting him to nearly drop the thick rope-safe from instinctive lack of reason. Still, he didn’t swing backwards as something acted as a deterrent from above.

His legs dug in again as he shivered from the cramps in his muscles and adrenal gland’s overdraft of chemicals that were eating up his stability of carefulness. His reddened nails scraped and scraped as he moved up and up, but this time it appeared that nothing as such were to happen, the hungry propellers below getting distant and the growls of cylinders and consumption of fuel: a leftover of vibrations resonating through the frame of ship.

The small anchor became visible on the side with red and white life rings scattered down and around the top side of its frame. How could they really help if you were to fall down in this moss-infested shithole of mud and mosquitoes and other beasts-forgotten?!

Reaching the top, Tristan offered his smooth hand towards Reil who took it instantly, yet with some hints of shame present only to his eyes. His knee tho caught the edge in a nasty graze and shot pain through his leg’s groan, only to be shushed by Tristan who helped him off the edge and into the moving ship, now utterly surrounded by water and tall trees filled with life, lights and motion.

“Quiet… the crew went down deck. Almost saw me, those three,” Tristan whispered as he and Reil drew closer to the bridge in the shadows of its height and protection from the rain. There was the black briefcase laying against the steel wall with the umbrella, a bit damaged on the side.

Reil knew his leg was going to hurt a lot after some time yet right now the effects were minimal, so he sat on the briefcase in silent martyrdom. Tristan did the same on the narrow spot, which was never meant to act as a chair. Their bodies were glued together with discomfort and awkwardness.

“What were you thinking, Nefarian!” Tristan growled out of nowhere, his hands: fists at the naked air.

“I didn’t see another way to get there…”

“Why did you risk your life, idiot! You could’ve died. You know the risks!” It wasn’t rage, but the trickle of overwhelming… concern? The hell was wrong with this man…

“I’m the least of anyone’s worries. Climb out my ass.” Reil stood and conquered his personal space. He didn’t want to be harsh, but this was going over the usual bounds. The annoying rain was tugging him to go under the protection of the umbrella and box, but…

“You always become so distant… when it’s about you. Why can’t you just stop trying and just trust me with your problems without me trying to drill into your head…” Tristan lamented through an exhausted gaze.

“It’s so… exhausting…” His hands crossed in front and downcastness befell over him like a shroud, while Reil just gawked at him between conflicting decisions that were bashing onto one another for finality.

Nevertheless, it was hard for him, it always was since his days of devastation upon his naivity.

The reason for it being hard was, in a simplified way, that he just didn’t want to burden anyone with his issues, especially someone for whom he cared about.

He always tried to resolve what was given to him for unwilling consumption without pulling others into the same hole. It was out of selflessness that had the exact form of hidden selfishness due to the moto for self-preservation by not showing weakness to others, no matter who.

Yet with his actions he was causing unintentional harm which was evident upon his friend’s self. He couldn’t understand why there had to be a conundrum of contradiction within everything which always was like a double-edged sword that you couldn’t holster any way and anyhow.

His blood boiled harder under the coolness of the jungle and the bitterness in his mouth got him to spit out the ship, as if casting out a tumor-large.

They were here because they had worked together. They were here because they had expressed loyalty and trust. Reil had been shown another way, from the one he had taken, to be the only and truly working way, as he had been given hope for something more.

And how was his mind reacting? By keeping the old and defensive mechanism of protectiveness that was needed for his success on the streets and life itself as it had shown. Rooting out such an old habit, it was like breaking his legs and trying to walk again…

“You know… I’m not going to change, right? At least not soon…” Reil said with a hesitant mutter. “We both know change is slow, gradual. Takes a lot of time. Like in your case…” Tristan looked away for that one moment.

“But look how far you’ve come. Both of us. Together.” Reil sighed and sat close, his hand reaching behind and pulling his friend’s shoulder. Both now gazed at the foamy waters in the distance below, while the dock from hence they had been was amiss to their eyes and gone into the journey-sailed.

“Sorry… I stepped over the line,” Tristan murmured.

“You should do it more often!” Reil piped up and moved away as joviality managed to find a way in through the silty dam to a friendly chuckle. Reil’s back relaxed onto the steel and moist wall behind him, and he sighed into the view before him that would slowly change from trees of different shades, or houses of different positions and forms.

“Uhm… what are you going to do if this works out?” Tristan asked after some time bathed in the song of the ship’s engine and bubbling of water. It wasn’t expected but it was actually engaging as to what he was really going to do if this… no… after this successfully passed, unless the ship headed towards somewhere else with a turn.

And because nothing was coming up, he decided to buy himself some precious time and not seem ridiculous.

“Back at ya,” Reil countered with a grin that got Tristan to snort in annoyance and to lean the same way onto the cold surface, with his neck relaxing into dreamy rest. It was rather amusing with the glistening ruby in front his neck in combination with his longer features, it made him look rather… curious to the eyes that glanced.

“Probably move out to somewhere in Luynie… somewhere clean, safe and glamorous?” Tristan said. Even if both their lives were tied to that area of Larrylon, even if somehow its grayness and destabilization were making one retch inside in disgust, there was this other side that the mind called… Home. But Luynie, a place like the one described? A bit far-fetched.

“Not a bad idea, Tris. But it ain’t gonna be easy, prices and all. Tax income forms, employment… the moment they find out where you’re from, criminal convictions, being… we both know.”

He was waiting for Tristan’s disappointment of his crazy idea but nothing was coming, more like more was incoming as the young man rubbed his hands.

“Yea… well I could use a hand… maybe we cooooould… share expenses? Yea?” Tristan finished starry-eyed, and with great anticipation that had leaked through his light voice. Surprise was not a word fit for here, as a chuckle made way through Reil’s nose.

Distractions aside, the offer got him a bit overexcited, which led to an alarming impossibility of containing himself, as if what they had to do was already done, and they were bathing in success.

“Ehh… I don’t know, Tris… I’ve actually fantasized of living away from everyone, without people around me. In the wild with the commodities of today… kinda envy those guys at podunks,” he tried to dodge as to make Tristan forget about it.

A tip he had been given in the near past had made him go out the city and into the Wildlands as to find an abandoned house with profitable equipment inside. The trip he did with some helping hands had left in him this sense of freedom and great attachment to the wilderness as it lacked the noise of civilization.

It lacked the suffocation of the many people all around. What it didn’t lack was green, blue and… this relief? Maybe his primal side wanted this, this what was taken from him, from all mankind. The imposition of civilization and brainwashing of the modern age, the brainwashing conducted by the government’s systems and ways of established-structural life.

“Oh… okay…” the disappointed face moved down and Reil believed that it was over, that it was finished. And then Tristan’s vigor returned, ”Can I help you find this place, Reil?” Reil was confused to this suggestion and the intensity of the words that struck, but instead of letting control waver in silence he smiled and stroked Tristan’s shoulder.

“That wouuuld mean… more time with me. More corruption!” he wheezed through a playful smile at Tristan who scoffed disapprovingly and shot him a look that was actually full of mischief. But the sight was short-lived as Reil’s hand was grabbed and twisted in a motion that brought the unsuspecting young man to ouch loudly.

“I’ll survive, heh,” Tristan whispered and released the hold of pain. Reil’s scowl observed the reddened wrist, throwing a side glance of disapproval, yet he couldn’t see fault in this playful demeanor.

He could get used to this…

The rain kept falling. The ship endured on its course that seemed to be exactly where both motivated men wanted it to be. The sailors minded their own business definitely from the hate of the foul smell that was coming from the front of the big container.

The trees towered high and the animals in the swamps sang their songs of different uses in wait to the insects that’d fall prey in trodden places of danger amidst more hidden secrets, which were obscured by vegetation and green.

In between all this were the suited youngsters whose goals and ambitions boiled furiously under the slumbering trees, a boil of great atmosphere and infinite excitement.

Who would’ve thought so many things could happen on one unconventional…

Day.

Chapter 4
Allurements

“Come on, bushy man, this is it!” Reil shouted from the top of the spiral wooden steps that had been going around one of the tall trees that their destination had led them to. At least the surface under the tree wasn’t bathed in rain drops, otherwise it would’ve been pretty slippery and frustrating.

Reil had his best shoes on but in formality was where dexterity had its loss, when met with extreme conditions of artificial means, especially with this nagging pain in his foot that had been a repercussion of the leap of fares.

He had passed quite some doors and windows in the tree itself with lights hanging from above those frames of entrances and exits. At least the mosquitoes didn’t have enough time to take bites on his bright flesh.

“Wait… ahhh, I’m coming!” came the distant shout from below the stairs he had climbed, which got Reil to chuckle and smooth his hair, while his feet traveled to the edge where the keeper of safety was in the tinges of viny green and hidden brown underneath. His hands grabbed the damp leaves and his head moved above the railing to a view that succeeded in taking away his composure.

It was a harbor that resembled the one at Larrylon but it was definitely way smaller in the form of a bay with surroundings with great contrast to the district of toxicity that was his homeplace altogether. Giant vines were hanging over the bay with the trees forming something like a wall with slits in between that were riddled with bridges, buildings and other modifications-undescribed.

There was that same hot air balloon that was climbing up from the lower levels and towards a platform where he was sure he and Tristan had to be if they hadn’t missed the wretched timetable, which meant that they were even early. The platform had another idle air balloon tho and that lowered his mind’s pace, while his eyes caught a mass of people there who were now climbing into the convenient baskets of this transport.

He looked up at the blue sky, which was visible from the hole the crowns of the healthy trees were allowing, trees that all resembled perfection, as if modified genetically to be possibly most attractive and stable in health and size.

Most of the time the sky couldn’t be seen as the thick green just seemed to want dominance and constant humidity. He was going to say that the region was incredible, yet this constant dripping and raining, it was just making his hands go underneath his armpits in dissatisfaction to most moments, even those shared with his friend.

He heard steps behind him but then his eyes caught a sight of several people exiting the housing from the tree, to which he sighed impatiently and mused.

Tristan surely lacked on endurance as he didn’t have to run around the streets like Reil, tho that was actually a good thing as Reil never wanted his friend to muddle into dangerous situations that could just erupt in the matter of seconds. Weak legs meant being caught. Being caught meant a bad day or a last one at that.

His obscurely rugged fingers drummed the green leaves, his eyes zeroing on a vessel which’s horn echoed around the bay. It was so loud his heart smacked into his ribs in viciousness, because it was the same boat and same horn of the boat they’d sailed just recently. It was a miracle for not getting caught…

Well, they had been caught when they had tried to exit through the dock, but with wits and luck they just slipped between the ignorant and tired crew.

After that it was a rather uneventful climb which was surely filled with interesting sights of how technology was keeping the place living, breathing and functioning. The machinery was so well-hidden, it was disguised into the trees, buildings, roads and sidewalks, practically everywhere.

Reil wouldn’t even have been surprised if technology was in the air. Maybe those insects were in fact small drones? Okay, that sounded insane…

On top of that, it was clean on this island that was part of the many, which were riddled around the Amazonia. Sure there were patches of leaves or dirt on the path but it was pretty normal, while the air actually felt blissful. It was fresh and rich and understanding to the lungs, unlike that of Larrylon where every breath served as a tickle that would result in a sneeze and yellow sputum of disgust… and rarely, solidity.

“He— Excuse m— hey!” Tristan’s voice came from down the stairs, and what Reil’s gaze caught was his friend almost getting shoved by the incoming traffic of people.

Nothing out of the ordinary. Still, anyone unsuspecting could get in serious trouble, for the stairs were steep and many. People nowadays were mostly in their own heads, never moving around aimlessly as things just were way more streamlined, unless one would be talking about Reil’s homeplace, where unemployment would crawl around the streets.

The young man stumbled as quickly as possible away to the safety spot where Reil was waiting, and collapsed just before him with breaths exceeding the medium of normality.

Well, Tristan shouldn’t have ran, but could Reil blame him? It wasn’t hard to lose all self-confidence to the threat over one’s safety. Oh, didn’t Reil know that all too well, a bit too well for his well-being and mental cohesion.

Reil reached for the briefcase and umbrella that Tristan was holding pinned to the woody floor and moved them aside, after which he put both his hands around his friend’s arms and shook him into focus. At least the smell wasn’t foul, just disinteresting, unlike at the Larrylon harbor.

“Coat… off,” Tristan breathed through and tried to reach for his buttons, but Reil slapped his hand away.

“I know, buddy. Just endure,” Reil pestered and eyed his friend from bottom to top to which he realized that Tristan was looking exactly like when Reil had helped him at Larrylon, even after the interesting journey in the car. But then his ears flinched at the direction of the railing and his eyes glanced at… what the…

Noise of something like a drone buzzed ever so close to the railing, and the shape of a small person in a skin-tight outfit of dark green landed without hesitation to both men’s backsteps.

The blades above its head reduced their spins, while the goggles on its face reflected into Reil’s puzzlement, until they were lifted to the sight of hazel curiosity.

It was a gnome equipped with flying gear, and she appeared interested in both of them, judging by the scrutiny of her eyes. It was pretty rare to meet gnomes in this world, as there just were that… not many.

The gnome made a gesture with her hand and adjusted something on her wrist that looked like controls for her flight, until the buzzing finally died off, replaced by the ambiance of jungle.

“Hey?” Reil finally said as he was getting uncomfortable. Her goggles nestled on her neck and she moved away some of the longer hair that covered her eyes.

“Wh’ch’ya two looking for?” the gnome asked in a high-pitched tone, and Reil just played around a row of eyebrow expressions. Were they just neared by a unique person only to be asked if they needed something?

“Whatever comes and goes,” Reil answered with words meant to fend off those who’d pester him for pocket change or a light.

“What… are you?” asked Tristan and Reil just stared in a mindless frenzy to the awfully improper words, tho he was asking himself the same thing, yet not in the context his friend had put forth. Maybe the gnome would flip them off and… well, fly away, yet she reached for one of her pouches attached to her brighter belt and pulled out a fresh tangerine that she played around with in her fingers’ grip.

“Seriously, sweetheart?” she uttered, Reil flapping his backhand against Tristan’s shoulder and gesturing an excuse at the guest before them. She sighed and took a bite off the fruit, saying further in between her munches, “I’m Karla. This little thing is my wings.” Her short hands touched the frame of the skeleton of her flying apparatus. Before Tristan would get another idea of saying another accidental insult, Reil cut to the chase.

“Okay… Karla? Have a nice snack,” Reil grabbed the suitcase from Tristan and took steps away from the gnome as to try and spike her reduced curiosity. There was always this… persistence. The buzz of those propellers fired up, and as he and Tristan walked off, the side of his vision filled again with the small body.

“Sure. Wha’ch’ya two sweethearts up to?” she asked as she floated up and down in front of them, voice edging silently with irritation. If she wanted something from them she should say so and not play around as if they were some stupid kids.

“Not hanging from trees, that’s for sure,” Reil interjected to no one’s apparent dismay. Karla pulled her goggles up and scowled for a short moment. Then, with a spit to the side, came out the drained-from-juices flesh of the tangerine.

“Nah, love…” Karla countered finally and it seemed the chase was over. “Wanted to give’ya… something, else,” she finished and dug further into the nectar of orange.

“Let me get this straight,” Reil breathed amidst his head’s shake, “you saw us walk through here and decided that you’re going to just trust us with that something else? Sounds like BS to me… love,” he mocked to the gnome’s annoyance that spat more pulp.

“You know how it goes,” she returned coyly to Reil’s scoff, who glanced at Tristan’s evident lack of motivation to join in this random situation.

“Either it’s a setup, or you’re sloppy,” Reil mused aloud in an attempt to get the gnome speechless, which would be so if he had truly caught onto her plan.

Not that she wouldn’t be able to hide the truth, but it’d show up to his experienced eyes. Yet, her reaction was one of slight distress as her voice shot through the air a bit higher with her next of words.

“Neither! I need the help, and it’s going to be good’f all of us.”

“As if you don’t have any friends to help you out… Pft, come on, Tris,” Reil tried to shut the droning gnome off, turning around with Tristan by his side. But then rustling got his ears to flinch and the feeling of wind passing by him, as if followed by a swarm of angry bees.

Was there some despair in her expression? The closer he inspected her the more he could see how her entire outfit didn’t exactly blend in, as if different parts were added to it throughout time. It seemed as if this little woman had lived through environments not that different to his own.

“It can’t be with peeps I’know. I’ll fill ya in, y’just have t’accept, sweeties,” she tried again, nectar falling from her lip as she landed on the moist wood.

“Why do you even think that we’d even want to do any of it?”

“Hmm, if I’m not… yea, you’re from the south side of the city, aren’t you, love?” she smirked widely, “Ye, you’ve hid it well, but I can see your hands,” she buzzed up, getting slowly closer to his face. “Scars around your neck… your coats aren’t waterproof, your shoes slide around…”

Uncomfortableness shoved itself between his ribs from these close inspections which got him to step away and scowl. It was all he had to give for her to smile in smugness. “You’re perfect,” she finalized, as if hammering down the last nail.

The distant whisper was now a shout, as he realized the implications and the facts about him and the people of Larrylon. This didn’t mean they were all the same, yet what was the point of arguing something that was just… pointless…

“You’re wrong, we aren’t who you believe we are. Good luck in your… buzzing. Let’s go, R,” Tristan suddenly snapped out of nowhere even with the hints of wobbliness around his frame. Reil stared in shock to the sharp change, as if Tristan hated the sole idea that everyone from their home place was impure and corrupt.

This sudden defiance made Reil to realize that his naive friend was the shield which prevented those muddy waters of regress. It made Reil’s heart to crackle and his confidence bloomed anew.

But then the gnome suddenly dropped to the ground with a light thump that signaled that either she did it with great skill or just her body was very light.

Reil stood motionlessly, despite Tristan’s fierce attempts of pulling on the damp coat. Karla crossed her arms and statue-ed in thought, until she rose up again and looked around the silent green.

She reached for one of her pouches again and Reil’s instincts of living on the streets shouted at him to back off, yet his eyes saw an obscured surveillance camera close to the tree in the middle of the platform they were on.

So he remained in composure and calmness, at least from outside. Her short hand pulled out something in a fist and she reached out to him what looked to be thin piece of paper that was… ripped from a newspaper?

“If you change your mind, you can ca—” but as she extended her hand to pass on the small piece of information, Reil’s hand was smacked by Tristan, who was shaken with fury.

“We’re going to be late, c’mon,” he ordered and tried again to pull at Reil, but nothing changed. This was an opportunity his friend was blind to. It was keeping him firm and emotionless to the friendship next to him, so this behavior sparked a reluctant grunt. Tristan helplessly crossed his arms around himself and turned around as if to show his disapproval at the situation. He was actually trying to assert control. It was annoying but at the same time, it was making Reil smile internally.

“Ughh…” Karla sighed and reached for another pouch from where Reil’s eyes saw a familiar color of blue that made his mind to search for dopamine within his confines. She grabbed a handful of the tasty grapes and hesitantly reached her hand again at Reil.

He browed in uncertainty, and at that she rolled her eyes with a grating sigh and grabbed a grape that she plopped into her mouth as to show that no trickery was present, especially with poison or drugs. “For your time, darling. Ya can krinkle it’w fuzzy-puss there,” she sassed playfully.

Reil pondered if he should risk it and take the unsuspected heavenly gift but when she gulped and licked her lips without any visible contents of leftovers, he sighed in defeat and reached inside his coat.

From there he pulled a brown handkerchief that he opened and lowered close so Karla could fill it up with the offering of delight, but his quick eyes caught a piece out of place, that same piece of paper that went out of view as grapes buried it underneath.

Without any warning, with a strong gust of her mechanical propellers, she pulled herself off the ground and looked down at both soggy men with a sort of amusement.

“Cya’en, gorgeous,” she cooed while looking at Tristan in a seductive way. And just like that she flew away into the vastness of Amazonia.

Reil reached for the heaven-incarnate that laid in his brown cloth and quickly popped several in his salivating mouth, while his legs carried him to Tristan with slight pain again. He brushed it off with the feeling of joy that swam around his memories.

Tristan was still keeping his backside in view, thus Reil decided to be an asshole and just walked into him with his foot going between Tristan’s legs that drew an instant squeak.

“Gwapes?” Reil asked through a nasty munch but the only response was a hard shove and a grunt, “I widn’t agwee to notwhin’!” he tried to articulate but the tastiness had turned his brain to mush.

“She gave you food. When they give you something, it’s because they ready you for what they want. And you took it!” Those sentences made Reil freeze and just appear in timelessness in front of his edgy and expectant friend.

It was true, you were given something usually because either something was going to be asked of you or attention was sought, which of course would lead to the obscured agenda.

But he couldn’t fall into that manipulative trap, his mind would catch on the line of thread too easily, and taking some heaven into his belly wouldn’t hurt him anyhow.

“I know, just love grapes, pal… Want some?” Reil asked warmly but the scoff that came answered his question pretty well. Tristan just took off without notice, hands in pockets. Why couldn’t Reil be the angry one…

Reil wrapped the remaining blue in his cloth and stashed it in the inside pocket of his coat, while wondering about the gnome’s offer and the possible opportunity of some needed money. But then came Tristan’s words about them being more than that, being more than shifty lowlifes and actual clean citizens of the prosperous Government.

If he wasn’t doing this for society, he could do it for his closest friend and the rest of the people he cared for.

Yea, that belief tasted luscious.

That was… a fair deal.

Chapter 5
Arrival

Reil and Tristan had passed onto several other platforms of the bay of Purei’s Retreat in the Amazonia. They had crossed some bridges and asked around for specific directions, until they were met with one big’n’wide red cedar tree that towered over the rest like an ancient God.

But this God was malformed at the top, as if lightning had struck it in the past, the cut deep with charcoal faded around its edges where the fire once had festered unclean. All around the body were dark vines of hairs spread ugly down Earth’s crust in a greedy and relentless onslaught for the race of time to ply by in the touch of fulfilment-wicked, to nutritionless soil-damp.

It was a strangler fig that even by being a parasite would rely on birds to be spread across like a disease. The tall red cedar was half dead and alive at the same time, while many windows and smaller platforms towered up and around those scars of nature’s touch upon that which wasn’t considered hers.

It appeared that the infestation of roots that were like parasites had been left like this for some apparent reason, despite the windows’ parts being clean of obscurity at most sections. The supposed entrance was overtaken on both sides, where these roots had created something like a natural spiral pergola, one that was wild and rather intimidating at that. Underneath it were these lamps that breathed light all around as it was rather gloomy-given, because the only source of vision was at the bay, which wasn’t enough to let light illuminate everywhere. Such was life in Amazonia: dark, damp and rather… primordial.

Layers of dead leaves were on the sides where plants grew in average sizes, due to receiving enough light from the bright orbs of sunlight that were the buzzing white, which was a plague for the misguided, over-sized insects deserving and victimized.

There were no indicators that this was it, no labels, no nothing, just the tinted windows of the front and the solid glass doors, which opened to a businessman, who was slightly taller than them, exiting in a hurry as he tried to fix his tie.

But the person was not much of interest to Reil, as he glimpsed over at Tristan, whose anxiety could be even tasted if one tried harder. The humidity here wasn’t that bad as it wasn’t trapped like before they had entered the bay. The suffocation before had been so bad that every breath was like drinking steam. It would’ve been good if it were just that, yet the big mosquitoes that were trying to take a bite also played in the discomfort of civilization.

As Reil thought about it, this giant near-husk of a tree wasn’t towering over, it was entrenched by these parasites of timber and thickness, with the gap-lost plugged by other opportunists-smaller.

Reil knew this day was important for both of them, but the overthinking was going to bring them only troubles, thus, he tried to boost the confidence, but not before gawking at an ant colony in between the giant leaves of the plants around. That sure was one big kingdom of insects experiencing a Golden Age. It got his mind to picture himself stepping accidentally in there and getting those warriors of millions around his clothes… It got him to gulp jittery and step away, meanwhile seeking distraction to remove that flashy dread.

“Whatever happens, confidence, Tris. Make confidence your coat! Awight?” Reil cheered and put an assuring hand over his friend’s shoulder, smiling and squeezing encouragingly. He wasn’t evidently mad anymore about Reil thinking of accepting Karla’s offer. Well, he was…

Nonetheless things were as they were. That was why he could see himself as Tristan’s protector, while Tristan shielded Reil from the other threats, threats too complicated for Reil to skirt around. It all came to… mutual understanding and benefits.

Reil took in the scents of jungle, water and other people, whose essence lingered in the lighter air of moisture and perfumes… They moved up the trippy stairs of overtaken roots that he was sure once belonged to the insides of the tree they were going to enter, as it was visible that it had been drilled into in the past as to make the entrance.

The sides of the stairs looked handcrafted with the shapes of leaves, turtles and crocodiles, which appeared really exquisite to Reil’s eyes, while the rest of the overgrowth was left to take and entangle. It gave the feeling as if this was natural to nature itself, despite the mark of humanity skulking high above and all around the buzzing electronics.

Little to no vegetation was able to survive under these shadows-thick and unhospitable. The layers of dead plants were coating the earth with moss-festered and many ferns. Mushrooms, being the little moisture-lovers themselves, had taken much of the populace and were prospering fully in their kingdom of rot and dark. Of course, the smell of expired meaty fungus was a bad one due to it almost reaching the same notes of decaying flesh. It made Reil to scrunch his nose and sidestep away from the edges of the path.

His footing was nearly lost when his shoe caught upon uneven-ness of a cut branch, now the spot being just a bump with lifelessness meant only to be stepped upon. He was talking about confidence but was waning from it with every step, thus he pondered upon their appearance, the implications and the deal that was to be made. What if his decision got them to fail at this… opportunity? What if he had gotten something wrong.

But doubt, it only gave way to mistakes. Mistakes led to failure.

They got to the sliding glass doors, which didn’t even offer them a reflection, while the size was but a symptom of the hugeness everywhere-around. It seemed uninviting, while Reil’s peep at his friend spoke the same opinion. With their last moments of hesitation he sighed and smiled genuinely as his hand found itself in a handshake with Tristan’s.

“Together,” Reil asserted in a squeeze which for a bit was not returned, but then the less rugged hand squeezed back.

“Together,” Tristan repeated positively and their hands disengaged with a shake, after which both fixed their clothes and smoothed their hair until all was done.

Reil took the first step that got the motion sensor above to make the doors, with oaken frames, slide open, all under the eyes of watchful security cameras and his friend from behind, who walked smugly with his chin high up.

The air that came out and touched Reil’s cheeks wasn’t suffocating. It was neither too cold nor too warm. It was perfect.

The surroundings were so new, strange and unique. Everything was from wood, even the additional architecture had the same shades that all mingled in harmony. There were no hanging cables from the ceiling or walls, no cracks on the smooth wooden surface that had the giant rings of age of the tree itself, rings which surely weren’t genuine as most was grown and cultivated artificially with the aid of technology-advanced.

They were immediately met with a burly security guard with an unfriendly visage. But Reil didn’t let himself be intimidated and stood tall himself, despite the bubbling doubt-unshown.

The guard had a green uniform which contrasted with his dark skin, thus resembling tints of a tree, while the accessories around his belt spoke of power and communication. He came close at a respectable distance, eyed them from eyebrows to soles, but his scrutiny remained more time on Tristan, who was perfectly keeping it together, even adding some sort of a defiant smile that Reil’s eyes were eating up with pride.

“Reason for visit?” the guard asked.

“Business,” both young men answered in unison as if they had trained for this moment. Neither looked at the other as they intently stared at the taller person, whose suspicion faded in tingle to the soothing ventilation all around.

Reil knew the guard was suspicious because they didn’t exactly seem to belong there, their youthful faces and moist coats, especially with the additional touch on their appearance that broke formality.

The guard moved closer and gestured up. Reil rolled his eyes and put the briefcase on the floor and spread his hands in the air. The guard pulled out a tool from his belt’s holster and moved it round Reil’s body slowly.

Reil didn’t like having someone so close to him, especially with a body capable of destructive strength, yet things were as they were…

It took a few more moments and the guard just went to Tristan without even glancing at Reil. So much for effort, it didn’t appear the guy was very keen on doing this. Or was it because he was too good at this and the impression was received as such, for the cultivation of mistakes to be made, if something malicious was in mind?

The same process was done to his friend, but instead of letting them proceed, the guard asked for the briefcase to be opened, with Reil groaning loudly and giving view to the contents of the rectangular-carry.

The guard grunted an approving side step and gestured at the wall where a machine with many holes stood. It was a dryer that was going to remove all this moisture from their bodies, well, good thing it wasn’t going to do it to the moisture inside them as that would spell a rather horrific disaster. But Reil being Reil, he stopped just before they were to pass the guard.

“Would you mind holding these for the moment, sir?” Reil asked soothingly as he raised his briefcase and glanced at Tristan, as to signal him to do the same, with the umbrella that had gone through some hardship of adventures. The guard glanced at his station where tinted windows stood.

He more like glared at something or someone, but then he looked down back at Reil and smiled so falsely that Reil feared that the big person might soon need a yellow card.

“Of course not, gentlemen,” he replied and reached with his big hand for the items. Both men moved towards the dryer and positioned themselves close to one another as they waited for the stream of cleansing to begin. Reil had experience with such equipment but this one looked more serious and way more powerful, while his expectations were raised when the stream of hot air struck through the many holes.

His hands extended and he circled himself as the air went around his frame and underneath his coat, while the humidity was sucked dry up the ceiling.

Oh, dryness, all of that moisture was just annihilated and he thought that he was flying above the clouds, to which he hugged himself with a slip of a smile, while the air blew around every piece of body. He dared to peep at Tristan, whose hair had spiked upwards, causing amusement to expose Reil’s tongue in that short grin.

The blower finished its job and Reil tugged his coat as to fix it in place but without touching its buttons, because he wanted to look as open as possible without any signs that he needed reassurance or defenses. He stepped out the metal surface of the machine, with silent steps following behind, and went to take that what was his from the guard who had to attend to other people that had entered the premise.

With resonance to their steps, the two suited men continued towards what looked like another checkpoint with the same sliding doors in tinted darkness. But they didn’t open and Reil nearly hit his face in the glass. Sound buzzed from the side that had loud coughs, yet nobody could be seen. A whirring came about from that speaker and above it something like a plastic card spewed about.

Reil didn’t know how to react and stood like an idiot for some moments. His stupor was broken when Tristan pulled out the plastic piece of access and put it in front the obscured reader next to the doors, which got them to open and flood the lobby with the atmosphere of the hidden world.

Air ran away and exposed the insides of the tree, to which Reil walked in like a starry-eyed kid. The giant tree was hollow with many offices climbing up its length which, if Reil didn’t know better, he’d have thought they were reaching the sky itself and beyond.

Chapter 6
Straits

The doors gently closed behind them in tightness, with Reil’s briefcase almost going between them if it were not for Tristan, who grabbed it in the last moment of salvation. The tck-tck followed by, with nothing more but an amused look of full understanding. There was a fountain in the middle, while a waterfall fell from above at one of the corners-distant, and continued down somewhere-unseen. Vines and leaves populated crossings in the air, a world within a sleeping giant…

So many platforms and bridges of style that were in great harmony with the tree itself. There were even small trees grown inside the hollowness, while light poured through lamps hidden in the wood. At least there was no rain, at least the humidity was in sync with normality. Reil’s shoulder was touched by Tristan, who pointed at an interesting mechanism close to the entrance they had come from.

It was an obscured machine with a stylish look, as its metal was made invisible by coating of appropriate imagery of animals and plants, while this transparent tubing was going directly into the wood with a yellowish liquid. Who knew how deep it went and how it worked but it looked compressed, as the hole didn’t seem to have the ability of mistakes as to be letting anything out.

“Nutrients?” Tristan asked lowly, but Reil couldn’t give him a straight answer. It was a possibility but shouldn’t that have been done at the roots and not the middle of the living tree? Or maybe because they had severed its center and major arteries, therefore, it was needed for life to be sustained.

Maybe that’s why half of it had ceased living. But instead of hypothesizing, Reil just gave a shrug of his shoulders and threw it off as unimportant, while his legs transported him to the reception where their destiny awaited.

The desk was equipped with a lot of monitors and there was no lack of staff. It felt a bit too tall as he was looking up to the employees. There was a choice to be made: the older and visibly annoyed receptionist or the younger one with the glasses which looked more like an accessory.

Odd thing was the older woman was typing on a mechanical keyboard, something one would see in classic movies or at the museum.

“You’d like that changed to tomorrow?” the young receptionist said, but it wasn’t to anyone around her as she was wearing an earpiece that glowed red, and Reil examined his fingers in patience. Yea, they seemed pristine.

He could’ve tried with the other free receptionists, but he didn’t want to seem desperate or out of time, despite time itself running by with a disliked gait of mockery.

“Mr Kavolski won’t be available at the specified, how about we appoint it 2 hours after your desirable time?”

Tristan came by Reil and propped the umbrella against the desk, gesturing with his hand as to ask what was going on, to which Reil widened his eyes and pointed with his face at the receptionist. The reaction was one of a scoff and an an intensive stare at the young lady who didn’t even give him a reaction.

“I understand the inconvenience but it’s not possible otherwise, everything is scheduled already, sir.”

“I guess we’re not that important, Tris. They don’t want our money here,” Reil poked smugly enough so the receptionist would hear him, which he was sure she did as her body ceased motion for a split moment, but her eyes remained on the interactive display below her rapidly tapping fingers.

“No kidding, can’t even get a welcome here.”

“No, you can’t come at that time, I already told you the only possible hour for tomorrow,” the receptionist rebuked with hints of anger, and at last her eyes caught both Reil and Tristan’s, to which she received nothing but a malicious grin. But then her head moved down again and she acted as if they weren’t there.

“Ma—” Reil tried to say but was interjected by the older receptionist nearby whose mouth had further morphed into a scowl.

“Ey, gentlemen. Welcome to the main headquarters of Amazonia Straits. How may we help you?” the old receptionist asked, but somehow Reil was more interested in the golden rings at the base of her neck. How had she managed to put them there? Dazed, it wasn’t him who spoke first.

“I understand, sir, bu—”

“Hello, we have a meeting with the… Director? We’re supposed to be there in…” Tristan trailed off as he peeked at his watch without any hints of discomfort, “in five minutes. Would you point us towards their office?” Tristan invoiced, while Reil just smirked in pride, not without giving off annoying glances at the woman who was still ignoring them, still busy with the uncooperative person on the line.

The old receptionist remained motionless with squinted eyes, but then she edged to the side and typed away. Even with her age, she was keeping herself fairly well, with stylishness of her old-fashioned appearance of an old woolen coat. But Reil wanted to do something else, his nerves were itching in dare, thus he just couldn’t hold himself. He looked at the young receptionist and read her name tag, Amanda Marston.

“Say, Amanda,” he emphasized coyly on her name and even noticed partial mortification from Tristan, “I deem myself as a good multitasker as well.”

“Tristan Primale and Reil Perfiol, founders of RowdyDays?” the old receptionist asked, to which Tristan confirmed verbally and Reil just gave a lazy thumbs up without breaking contact with the lady before him.

“The only way, sir, is if you come today then. At the specified time.”

“But, Amanda, I found out one thing,” Reil quickly added when the last word got out of her mouth, a very visible twitch in her lip showing off her pristine teeth.

“Usually it doesn’t pass like this, but… she’s put a note…” The old receptionist tapped on the desk a few times in uncertainty. “She doesn’t like stragglers. Take the elevator to the last floor,” she said and pointed to the other side behind the fountain. ”Office is at the end of the corridor.” Her smile was perfect closure to an automated work ethic.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Tristan returned with a polite tone and grabbed the umbrella, but Reil wasn’t peeling his stare away. She just had to acknowledge him.

“It’s almost impossible to do so when more than one person is talking to you, hon,” Reil added with a lowering, bumpy tone that could’ve been compared with one of demeanor. The brown eyes of the young receptionist finally shot in line with Reil’s in the form of heinous incandescence. There, that was what he was waiting for, so he chuckled with a wink.

“I already told you, sir!” she almost shouted, her deathly glare snapping off from Reil and to her screen where she interacted irrationally and clenched her fist.

“I’m no— maybe the phone’s too close to your ears, sir…” she angrily continued the song of struggle, but then Reil noticed Tristan’s disappointment as he was knocking his fingers on his watch and pointing at the window-obscured elevator behind the bubbling fountain of marble and blue.

“Ta-ta, Aman-da,” Reil drew with closing attempts of catching her snakish-eyes, but he lost sight of her soon as he carried himself to the elevator. The fountain had well-crafted embeds in the forms of different fishes that were all unique in their own way. He even saw an octopus somewhere amidst the elements of artistic expression. Hell, there were actual fish swimming about inside!

The elevator then came to his eyes with ornaments of thorny roses that were chiseled as to give the design depth and beauty. Expensive stuff. The elevator had already been called as he could see from the dividing glass above, the box of transport moving quickly down, tho no wires could be seen, just the black railing behind which nothing was within.

Reil came by Tristan’s side and touched the frame where the display console for the elevator was. The wood was so slick and gentle, had they done all this everywhere around the confines of this breathing ancient? Amazing…

The elevator voiced arrival in a dingish fashion and the thick door-wooden opened inwards. Inside were a few office workers who didn’t instantly leave, so Reil didn’t gander waiting and just stepped in, receiving odd looks as if he had done something wrong.

They all left shortly after, not giving either of them another glance. A sort of amusement spread around him to how he’d broken expectations and would cause chaos around those who’d exist in their ivory towers, yet his face was impassive.

Tristan got in and used the interactive screen, where he chose the last floor on the digital pixels. But then the door just closed, yet no motion took place. Reil took that moment to sigh and smooth his hair and lapels.

“You didn’t have to be a jerk about it, R,” Tristan said and looked over his shoulder with small amounts of sorrow, while the lens above the digital console opened like an eye-alive, surely to capture who had asked for access to that level, an interesting way of security and tracking indeed.

“Clearance required for further access the administrative floor,” came an automated response that got Tristan to put the card next to the glassy sensor after a bit of visible pondering.

“Neither did they,” Reil returned and crossed his arms before him, while facing the door and giving his back to the eye, to which Tristan leaned against the plastic frame of the silverfish elevator-motionless.

And then air escaped from the sides and a plastic barrier came to be in front the wooden doors, which lacked attachment to the elevator itself.

“You’re such an ass sometimes… Amanda sure will remember you,” Tristan laughed out at last and put a hand in front his face.

“I hope she does, she tried her best not to!” Reil said and finally dropped his guard as he sidestepped closer to his friend and looked at the console beside. “When is this goi—” but before he could continue, movement spurred instantly and the climb commenced.

The speed was unnerving and his stomach dropped to tingles in the acceleration. Transparency gave new sight to the view below that was thinning out, turning ant-ish with offices and openness on the other side.

“My legs are meltingggg,” Reil vibrated aloud as the tingles in his stomach tickled all inside, while they passed platform after platform and people after people, until the view turned into a constant wall of oak. The numbers were counting up at the digital red above, where the plastic doors would slide in and out. “You feeeeel it?”

“Yea… it kinda m-m-makes me want to t-t-take a leak, R…” Tristan confessed with a voice of vibration in par, while his hands were between his legs and his knees were slightly lowered. Reil’s eyes perked down and a genuine laugh rang around.

The movement lowered and the elevator actually rotated, with the transparent barrier giving view of doors, which had tints of red wood.

They opened gracefully and gave view to a wide corridor that went only forward, with walls made of glass. The contents inside those rooms were hidden by white blinds, except one room that had a large table in the middle with seats all around. But it was empty. Looked like a conference room.

“Just hold it, it’ll pass… or get yourself excited,” Reil reassured Tristan as he winked at the last words, to which Tristan grumbled, trying to sustain his gait after the short trip.

The light was coming from the ends of branches that came from the walls. They looked real, even if Reil didn’t trust himself to believe such nonsense.

The floor had artistic forms of plants and even people in primal postures, while furniture was lacked totally around the place, people also. It was in a way getting his heartbeat to increase even more from uncertainty with combination of the stress of what was to happen and how the director might accept them.

“One minute…” Tristan muttered as they increased their pace, an uneven corner getting close. Just as they rounded it, Reil noticed a big guard standing close to the wall, yet the person had no uniform, just simple clothes and a surly face.

But those gray eyes, they spoke of vigilance. It made Reil to wave from concern as they passed by the intimidating person whose ears were just too deformed from obvious old injuries.

A view of glass came with another corner, where light was pouring through. Reil’s curiosity wanted to peek out and see below, but time was against both him and Tristan, who was now lightly running in front with his umbrella swaying left and right.

Reil hoped that it wasn’t from fear of the guard behind them, who at least wasn’t tailing them, as no commotion could be heard or felt.

There was a relatively smaller door that marked the end of the corridor, well smaller in comparison to the rest of the establishment where everything was huge. This was made to accommodate a person who wasn’t neither too tall, nor too wide, nor too small.

That gave Reil more courage as they zeroed in on the gorgeous door that had these protruding roots that were making it uneven and perfectionless, yet incredible due to the carried idea that this was created by hand, time and ampleness of dedication. Machines craved and sought perfection. A person’s mind sought beauty and creativity that had given life itself to those old lifeless objects of metal and circuits of memory. Those minds could see more than the absolute tool of frost.

The door frame looked solid and there were no cracks around the barrier of entrance. Nothing could be heard from inside, thus giving a deafening silence that was disturbed by the humming of lights around the modern corridors.

There was a resonance of a sneeze, which surely was the guard showing humanity after all. Reil hoped that he had inhaled a giant moth for the stink-eye they’d received.

On the side of the door frame there was a tag that read Zoey Carliona, Director of Straits, to which Reil took note, as names were very important in the beginning of relationships, even if they were to be only business related. Seeing that it was going to be a woman, some of the pressure around his gut was released, but he didn’t let it fully retract as his guard was to be always up no matter whom was to be faced.

He knew appearance could deceive, he knew prejudice could smother blind… Prejudice was a festering disease that was the worst of them all, the core to all restrictions and failures, the catalyst of chaos.

Reil noticed Tristan looking at him, while pointing at something that was part of the wall. It looked like a small console that loomed out of reach of both men. It got Reil to step closer to Tristan and scrutinize the surface of the smooth bark for anything that would indicate functionality. His hand touched the soothing surface and gave way to a glide.

The device above beeped, which gave Reil goosebumps in alarm as he feared that he wasn’t supposed to do this, while his hand shot to his chest in defense and attempt to hide the deed-done.

The surface that was touched suddenly changed color and form, but it wasn’t actually true, it was an illusion, a projection that came from that same small device above. A long frame adjusted to the height of the two men, a frame with rounded edges and a very lucrative design that spoke volumes of the expertise of those who had engineered it.

The Purpose of Your Visit?

Business

Work-Related

Complaints

Consultation

Arbitrary

Reil’s hand wondered what to choose, as Business did sound right, and yet they weren’t officially logged, from what he had extracted down at the reception. Tho who would’ve cared, unless it mattered so?

Suddenly Tristan pushed his hand onto the projected hologram, which got Reil’s own to shoot and grab his friend’s wrist. But the action had been done and the colors before them changed.

The menu remained still but now the simplicity of the clever design turned into a video, which’s sights were somewhat familiar. It was a camera slowly moving through what appeared to be Amazonia. The bay could be seen with all the bridges, trees and vines, which the flying camera was slowly and perfectly capturing. The choice wasn’t yet put forth.

“I say Business, generalizes all of our motives,” Reil began while still holding Tristan’s wrist who got the idea and lowered his hand.

“But isn’t our appointment considered a consultation of offers? What if they don’t let us in if we’re wrong?” Tristan asked.

“When in doubt…” Reil opined absentmindedly and moved his finger into the button of illusion Arbitrary, getting a quick reaction from Tristan who snatched Reil’s hand away from the handy console, but it was too late as the option was marked and blackness overtook the patch of wall.

“Why did you just do th—?! It cou—” but Tristan’s words faltered as the blackness took colors and shapes of a certain memorable place, with a certain memorable person. Reil couldn’t hold himself from grinning into exult, and Tristan took a step away in remorseful realization, yet the scorn in his eye couldn’t visibly leave at what he was surely thinking over within his crafty but honest head.

It was Amanda, and she appeared to have had her mood improved from the initial entrance of her existence upon the interactive screen. It didn’t last long tho, as her eyes registered the two men on the other side. Reil knew she was more like looking at him, because when his grin became even worse, her own frown deepened.

He couldn’t hold himself and mocked, “’Manda! You can’t get enough of us. I know it’s infectious but you’ve got to be a tad more professional.”

The unacceptable squint of Tristan got Reil to feel embarrassed from his behavior. Nevertheless, her body language was the only leak of non-professionalism that Reil could get out.

“Your credentials and clearance are restricted from entering. You’re lacking any official appointment or documentation,” Amanda said impassively without even peeling an eye at them, while Reil’s eyes fell, since they were told there were no issues.

They could always just try to enter but he was sure that the door only opened with this so called clearance that the card’s magnetic information only had the capacity for.

He was about to start when his words were taken straight out his mouth like a known and easy to-read-book. “Your colleague with the neck rings prompted up the question, while you were busy, miss. She told us there wouldn’t be a conundrum in visiting the Director, despite the lack of an official appointment. There are no needs for ramifications, yes?” Tristan finished as he straightened his back even more, while a prideful head stood tall. It was actually a modest arousal of sight that made Reil to shift on his toes.

Amanda finally gave them her eyes that held surprise and agitation in the same spot, until she twitched her mouth and turned around with her chair towards someone else, following with the loud words, “Britney! Britney!” Reil nearly choked on a snort, as he could easily guess who Amanda was trying to get the attention of. It was never easy when you needed it most.

“Britney!!” The sound from above even cracked a bit from the loudness and high-pitched voice that got Reil’s heart to skip a bleep. Nothing new came to the visuals but Amanda did move away.

“Why are you yelling?” asked the familiar and disinterested voice of Britney. Reil indeed wanted to just endorse the peepshow, yet time was running out, and he tried to get the attention of Amanda… but to no avail. She was totally severed from the reality that was the two men’s problem, and now appeared very motivated to deal with another. He wasn’t going to skirt around the corner, so he felt provoked.

“Becau— ughh, the issue is that you let those two without any prior—“

“We can hear you…” Tristan grumbled and took a step to the screen, but Amanda didn’t react.

“— registration, you know you have to register them!” Amanda kept up, reaching for her digital earpiece. The speaker gave no further sound, a quality piece of equipment capable of removing background noise.

“They were going to be late, there was no time to give them that. The Director told me about such occurring and how to handle it. Inform her.”

“It’s a problem, you have to abide by the established protocols like everyone else. I can’t let two random strangers in without giving full record. Why are you making it always hard on me, Brit?!”

“It’s on your head, darling.” Amanda gawked on the visual device and then her face lost all expression, a reticent huskiness of bleak dust. Everything about her was normal and yet everything with her was so wrong…

“Sirs, you’re going to have to come back and provide the necessary paperwork,” she heartlessly articulated and just continued on her work as if their answer wasn’t wanted due to her request being the only way. Reil’s skin burned with the tension of many stars.

“We can provide it through he—” Tristan tried to lessen the tension, but Reil was disgruntled and his sly insults no longer came to tongue.

“How about we just stay here and wait for the Director to come out herself? Then we’ll tell her how you purposefully disabled us from meeting with her. I know it’s all being recorded, Amanda.” Reil gave a solid reminder to the scope of the situation while amplifying their importance for the meeting, a subtle threat. “Britney does appear to have no issues in cooperating on behalf our misconduct.”

The unreadable expression gave way to obvious panic that played in the adjustment of her glasses. She quickly tapped on her console and reached for the handsfree device.

“It’s about t— Yes. Director… I know bu— you have two visitors in front of your office who haven’t regi— Director, we have prot— I just need them to co—”

Silence devoured the world. There was nothing but tiny breaths of anticipation. Reil was enjoying himself too much as this idleness was visibly working madness on the young receptionist’s eyes.

“You’re such a doll, Amanda. To the bitter end.” No answer came and the visual of her trepidation vanished, replaced by the prompt of putting the card for verification. This was it.

Tristan reached for the outlined red area of the hologram with the plastic piece of multi-functionality, and the whole frame turned green with the new text Step In Front Of The Door. Instantly out of the adjacent wall on their side came two sensors in a spring-like fashion, sensors that pointed at the two men like rifles ready to end lives of decades. Reil’s uneasiness at this amount of security created doubts, yet his feet slid him to the designation.

Tristan came by him and they just idled, until hotness crawled on his back and the rest of his body. Nothing was visible but implications of unhealthy magnetic waves, or non-ionizing radiation, which spewed itself everywhere within Reil’s head.

It never hurt one to be too careful apparently, unless it was about those being examined.

Chapter 7
Director Zoey

Air hissed from the door as if it was releasing enormous pressure-unchecked. Light shone on the side of the frame and it climbed to Reil’s chest, where it found sleep. Vein-like, it moved through the inside of the door in visibility and something whirred to life, tho there wasn’t much grinding or clanking at all.

It was smooth… perfect. The moment it stopped moving was the moment when a handle cogged out of that lit-up surface and took a specific shape of appropriateness for the two men.

Both men looked at each other for reassurance that this was finally happening and Reil gestured with his hand for Tristan to proceed.

Defiance shook itself, yet Reil was stern in his decisiveness, and Tristan gulped down his remaining irresolution from the lack of choice.

His steps moved him closer, his hand grabbed the slick and shiny metal, and with an audible exhale, Tristan pressed downwards. There was no visible strain in the motion that Reil’s eyes could register into scrutiny, while the massive door opened inwards so fluidly, as if it were alive and helping out the suited man.

Something caught Reil’s eyes in the corner of the wooden walls, it glinted in reflection as if it had moved its slick surface. It wasn’t a protrusion but it looked and appeared to have the small shape of an… eye… He wanted to test his assumption and took two steps back, and the reflection disappeared, while that eye moved, which pulled out a snort, as he had just realized they were being watched.

Guess the whole place was wired and secured. It reeked of uptightness and control, despite the lack of forth in the scheduling and meetings, apparently.

Reil’s looked at the chamber office, and saw the minimal brown floor-uneven, as if dug into the tree itself, yet when Tristan stepped onto it, it was like he was in the air, and the surprise reached Reil, where he questioned if reality was being twisted-foul.

The young man hesitantly put his other leg there and tapped with his shoe upon the surface. But the door kept on opening and thus revealed the office which consisted of a large window in the end, while cupboards and many monitors riddled the natural walls around.

With that came a heavy voice from the end of the room which was given a face as they entered without a warm invitation-present. The people there were a woman, likely the Director, who was sitting behind her wide, black desk, with clasped hands in front, and an oceanic-coated man with a black sweater who was leaning close to her.

“I want it all sent by the end of this damn week. Get it into your head once and for all, or e—…”

The man held his tongue in an instant and shot a glare at Reil and Tristan, which got them both to freeze at the entrance of the room and to just stay like that for a while, until the man spat with detest, “You interns lost or what? Get ou—”

“That’s my business, Sir. Don’t meddle,” the Director fatally interjected with stern confidence at the man who was caught out of words as he glanced around the new arrivals and, with the new information for Reil, subordinate.

“Relations with interns, no wonder why you’re stalling to report. Get your erroneous decadence in regulation or someone more competent will assimilate your undeserved position,” the man aggressively put forth and dropped documents onto the wooden desk that was part of the floor itself. Yet, it was refined around the edges in great care and craftsmanship, or was that just an illusion due to the desk being of color that lacked similarity with the tree itself? The Director only kept her stern gaze without even peeling a word, to which her superior huffed darkly and began exiting the luxurious office.

The new arrivals moved out of the way, as the man was just drilling spite at them, with the visible want for an excuse to start a problem, which Reil didn’t even want to instigate with someone above the individual with whom they were supposed to make a deal. Only a madman would put their head in the hornet’s nest.

The heavy scent of perfume, mingled with earthy mud, got to Reil’s nose as the older man passed by them with an inhospitable grunt. It was the last thing articulated before the heavy door closed with the air of pressure sealing them in from the world outside.

That exact moment, the Director’s arms went underneath the desk and did something with lackless vision, while the two young men just stood there. Reil couldn’t believe the bad timing they had come to because the person behind that seat of power, even with the gentle lines of her face, she was just furious.

Her neck was smooth and bright, with a tattoo nestled in the middle and reaching for her chest, where parts of a hood could be barely perceived on her skin, between the opened buttons of her white, sleeveless shirt.

Just then a half-full liquor bottle was pulled out, clanking on top the desk with a quick addition of fancy drinking glasses. It was as if she was in her own world and wasn’t giving them any kind of thought as all her attention poured itself in the indecisiveness of the next steps.

Grabbing the bottle with a swing, she poured a lot of liquor in her glass. But then she did something even crazier as the contents were taken in a single shot with pain on her face, her fingers trailing through her short-brown hair.

Everstill, no words, no body language giving Reil the signal… total and eerie nothingness. They were fully ignored.

Yet… there were two more glasses on her expensive desk. Maybe that was the hint that Reil needed to see? He touched Tristan’s shoulder and gestured with his head to move. Reil just realized the floor was made from glass as the surface was slick like butter. But there was no time to contemplate on curiosity, and they confidently closed the distance, taking a seat from next to the wall.

The big glass window behind the Director was giving view to the vastness of the Amazonia and even distant tints of the Wildlands… what a view… what privilege… what luck!

Reil took lead as he knew that Tristan wasn’t going to be able to figure anything out in this dire and fragile situation.

“Almost late, was very rainy today, e-heh,” Reil began with his smug voice, while closing to the side of the desk, since a frontal position with anybody wasn’t a good idea, unless you were to try and intimidate or judge them. To his attempt the answer was nothing as the Director just made another trail in her hair.

“We didn’t want to intrude but I believe that you’re a director who doesn’t tolerate slackers…” He put his chair close to the end of the side of the desk and motioned to Tristan to do so close to him. Thus they sat. “Especially nosey, bosses.”

The Director stopped twisting the emptiness in her hand and slowly angled her head at Reil, who caught her oceanic eyes. They spoke of great aggravation and silent rage, which got him to defensively smirk and gulp internally to the woman before him.

She pried her red leathery chair towards them and Reil noticed her tight, gray skirt that was just slightly above her elegant knees, yet her feet were bare with fingers turning up and down.

That was odd…

Just then she poured more alcohol into her greedy hands, but this time it was twice as less, which meant that her stress was going away. That meant that his words were working, he needed to stray her away from the gloom and into an idea of potentialities.

“Guess it’s unnecessary for long introductions as you surely know who we are, Zoey,” he calculatingly dared and saw the despair in Tristan. Her hand had frozen, giving off a small gap to notice the lack of long nails or even polish as they looked as dull as his own, while what looked like tattoos of rope snaked around her bare arms and under her shirt.

He had heard it countless times that he should never put anything on his body as companies would never want to hire him, at least those old at Larrylon would say so…

Oh how ignorant and primitive they were to think they knew any better of how the world worked… oh how he was so glad to have found that only he could pave his way to success by trusting in himself rather than the nonsense of those losers.

He had broken the formal barrier without asking or having been allowed permission, something that always gave him that attention. Of course right now it was as risky as it could get.

After all, the first step to getting someone to trust you is by getting close to that individual, thus using their first name or even giving them another one, which in this situation could either benefit their cause or entirely disintegrate it.

But Zoey’s stuckness in time faded as she just continued with her drink as if nothing had happened, thus Reil stopped rubbing his shoes together.

“I’m Reil, and this is Tristan. You can call me however you’d like. Him? Would you mind if so?” Reil asked Tristan, who for a moment was utterly dumbfounded.

“Uh— no-no! No issues there,” Tristan burst out accidentally, to which Reil internally tried to shoot himself in the head.

But Zoey wasn’t reacting badly, her eyes were actually roaming his friend and she raised her chin up with her finger stroking the bright skin underneath, as if she was thinking about something Reil couldn’t predict.

The inferno in her azures had reduced tho, and her face had significantly softened. He gave the credit to his smoothness but it all could’ve been the alcohol, which’s strong smell he could easily catch in the air of the cozy office. Her fingers trailed towards her chest and stopped on top the inky hood.

“We come as representatives of our company to negotiate a deal! I see the time isn’t that ideal, but hold belief that we can skirt around the issue and reach a mutual understanding that’d lead to great opportunities,” Reil festively explained with great emotion and articulation from his body, but the only thing Zoey did was breathe and stare. No words, no body expression, nothing. Was she testing them if they’d run out of things to say? Did she know who she was dealing with?

“It may not appear so at first but we must look into the future and hold the greater picture in light, rather than the quick and easy ways that’d be just temporary and lacking strength to survive time itself,” Reil continued and even stood up from his spot, which got Zoey to slowly move with the position of his body that paced slowly into the space behind the desk and towards the big window.

“We may be talking about putting five floors today, but tomorrow it’ll be ten, then twenty. After a month: a thousand!” Reil neared closer to the thick, spotless glass from where he just stood in wonder to the magnificence before him.

“All it takes is a seed to be planted, and if nurtured, it’ll grow into a fine and fruitful tree of magnificence!” His feet carried him around the other side where he looked around books of law and economy and psychology, while pictures were lacking as if they were avoided like the black plague.

“I know what you’re doing, Zoey. But I guess you just listening is enough, wouldn’t you agree?” he asked as he glanced over his shoulder. He could clearly see annoyance around Zoey’s mouth, yet she remained silent as a stone and poured again in her now-filling glass. The gesture was taken as a positive greenlight.

“Of course you would, long live consistency, eh?” He moved in front the desk and trailed one of his fingers over the smooth wood. It was so damn nice. His motions were indeed taken in with attention by Zoey, yet some subtle hints of curiosity were forming around her manners. Reil knew he was getting close to it, so of course he was going to rush full speed ahead.

“So how about we talk about it? Reach a common ground where everyone will be happy. Well, not that guard outside, I don’t think he’d even understand the word…” Reil tried to joke around as he put both his hands on the back of Tristan, who initially flinched but relaxed under the tapping fingers against his coat. Reil could swear he saw a tug on Zoey’s lips that resembled a smile but then it all fell, as she frowned deeply and put both her bare feet onto the desk, in one fluid motion which almost toppled the bottle of liquor.

Her hand reached for something on the desk and the room instantly turned black, the only sources of light being the window and monitors around the walls, while the floor, walls and ceiling were empty pits of nothing.

The furniture was as if levitating with lack of hesitance in the air. It got Reil’s lungs to electrify and his stomach to develop the sensation of falling, yet he tried to smash the nervousness by just sitting, tho he was very excited to understand how this had even occurred within this office of wonders and advancement.

“Am I supposed to trust the word of… interns? You can be anybody, I don’t think you even know how to dress properly… doing business to and fro, hah” Zoey’s voice became known. It was gentle and malicious, just the right amount of malicious to prick a nerve on Reil’s expectations.

So this was it, heh? She had heard what she wanted and enjoyed the distraction he had given her, and now she was going to lay her anger and hate at them instead of her boss who deserved every last bit. Maybe he could steer the conversation there somehow, maybe he could beat her in the game of words, now that she had entered it with a rather nasty attitude.

“Am I supposed to trust a tipsy director?” he shot back, to which she instantly snorted into her drink and actually giggled in a cute manner, but didn’t respond verbally, just gazed into Reil again, but this time with… amusement?

He stood up and leaned closer to her, his weight resting on his hands that propped on the desk, despite the ill feeling derived from the aura of darkness. “I think we know how to dress pretty well,” he gestured at her bare feet, then tugging the unbuttoned space of his shirt and trailing his fingers down slowly, to which her eyes followed intently. “Just a matter of perspective.”

Zoey stood between perplexity and awe, and he knew that he had struck a nerve, as she played with her fingers until words accompanied her actions, “Truly, such a delicate matter… Seen by few, understood by less…” she trailed off as her feet rubbed together, and Reil really wanted to ask why she was under-dressed, but forced himself not to.

“Which leads us to that special conundrum that we’ve come to work upon, by those, who understand,” Tristan suddenly piped out of nowhere, a decision that reft Reil’s heart at first. But the words that had come in the tone that had followed, they were rather flamboyant.

Reil noticed the squint of her eyes at Tristan, and after she licked her surely drying lips, her legs were removed from her desk, which showed the end of her superciliousness to mock and torture them. So to that, Reil took his rightful seat and clasped his fingers in patience for Zoey’s words to come.

But words didn’t come, as she grabbed the other two empty glasses and filled them with abnormal amounts of the sharp poison, while giving herself even loftily more. Reil’s mind saw possibilities with bad tastes and regressive actions. Without standing up, she pushed the crystal shapes towards the two men as best she could, slightly failing, which showed that the effects of intoxication were getting to her. That meant well tho, she was going to ease up and Reil could take control over the situation. They just had to keep talking.

“Sorry, but we’ll pass,” Reil asserted calmly and tugged her a fake smile that she visibly took with bitterness.

“Drink… then maybe we talk,” she happily concluded and raised her drink ready for them to clank together and gulp down the surplus contents, but Reil didn’t want to do so and his warmth fell into the depths of his most distant, hateful memory-downtrodden.

“It’s not necc—”

“I decide that,” she interjected with fatality and unwavering relentlessness that chilled the bones of his body. He didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t allowing him to talk his way out of this, and she evidently knew what she wanted and that was why she was demanding for them to continue.

This woman wasn’t stupid; she was currently in full control and was abusing her position of getting what she desired. If he wasn’t on the receiving end, he would’ve laughed so hard that his throat would’ve dried out like an incandescent desert.

He looked at Tristan with guilt and pursed his lips, to which the young man gulped surreptitiously and nodded in regret. Reil reached for the glass of bad choices and raised it up, with Tristan doing the same after some moments-unconfident. Zoey beamed in satisfaction all the way and moved her hand towards them that resulted in a loud clank with some of the contents spilling on their hands and desk. Warmth spread on Reil’s skin, as they withdrew the contents of blight and contrition.

Reil took it closer to his nose and sniffed deeply. There was an immediate reaction with an immediate effect on his nasal cavity that couldn’t resist to try and stop the foulness as mucus appeared. He believed to be already in the realm of intoxication due to the fumes that lived within this… scent? More like miasma. But time, time’s winds were sailing fast.

“Bottoms up, internies,” Zoey coyly simpered through a short laugh and killed her glass easily, but this time with an expected grunt. Reil gulped hard and tried to think about something else as he put the cold glass to his mouth. But as nothing was managing to psychologically infuse the stress with joy, he just poured all the contents inside his mouth without thought.

The burning hotness coated his tongue in near escape, but him forcing it shut got it to streak to the base of his throat. Gagging came and went, while he tried to get himself proper.

This was some damn strong stuff, but he needed to get it down so they could have more time with her. More time meant a possible chance to chip through the wall she was effortlessly holding between them. The more it stood inside him, the less he would be able to savor food in the future.