Chapter Text
He had always wondered what happened to those who fell in the pit.
When he was younger, after his father had been thrown into the pit, mother unknown or simply uncaring; he would stay awake at night. He went from staring at the ceiling of his fathers dingy shack to staring up into the ever expansive night sky, the stars feeling close enough to touch and yet the blanket of darkness that held them felt impossibly bigger. He wasn’t there when his father was thrown into the pit, in all honesty he doesn’t even remember what he looked like, how his voice sounded, all he had was the smell of cigarettes to remember him by.
It was only when Regto had picked him up, that the pit had stopped being this unknowable thing and became more like a tangible entity. He was too young then to understand what happened to his father, and it was only when he and Regto had stumbled across a public execution, that his brain connected the dots. People get thrown into the pit to disappear.
He had watched somewhat detached, the concept of death not familiar to his young brain and therefore not a possibility. Regto had kept moving, not slowing for the ritualistic mania that covered the clearing like a festering rot. He hadn’t shielded his eyes, just kept a firm grip on Rudo’s smaller hand and continued forward like nothing was out of the ordinary. And to him it probably was, ordinary that is. It was only when the innocent eyes of a child looked upon the scene of depravity and self proclaimed repentance that it shifted into something other worldly and uncertain.
He didn’t know this man, his interaction with him a simple crossing of fates that lasted barely a moment. But his mind took it with him into the night, the image of the man hanging from his wrists burned into his retinas as he stared at the ceiling, turning it around in his head to try and understand this new piece of the world previously unknown to him. He couldn’t help but wonder how Tribesfolk were able to look at those being thrown into the pit and rejoice in their ‘atonement’, yet completely forget that at any moment it could be them.
Thrown into a metaphorical or all too real hell just for the sin of existing, of course he hadn’t realized it then. Too young to truly grasp just how cruel and biased the world he was part of truly was, as they threw him to the same wolves they coveted.
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🚯
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The smell is what wakes him up first. So close to rot, a stench of decay and death that looms over him like a fog. It's heavy in his lungs, and he can feel it stick to him, inside and out.
He can hardly breathe as his eyes stretch open, only able to cough as his body pulses its ache, his limbs faltering as he drags them against the ground. The garbage and debris digging into his skin at every small movement as he tries to remember where he is, or how he got here. His mind sludges against the inside of his skull as his eyes squint at the overwhelming sight of the dull sky above him. Its calmness a stark contrast to the inner turmoil that begins to plague him the longer he's up.
His arms shake as he pushes against the uneven ground that lies below him, forcing his battered body up despite its protests. Knees scraped raw and knuckles torn for reasons he can't remember as he looks around himself, the only memory playing in his mind is the moments before his execution and the brief descent into the abyss as he and Regto were thrown away like little more than trash.
Regto.
Eyes fluttering, they split open at the reminder that his father had been tossed into the pit with him, whipping his head around he's frantic to catch any sight of the older mans familiar coat; the tarnished white surely contrast enough against the ocean of trash and garbage that lay before him, surrounding him as far as the eye can see in various heaps and valleys. Scrambling off his knees, he shakily stands and tries to calm his breathing–it now rattling in his lungs and knocking against his ribcage in painful bursts as panic begins to seep into every pore of his body.
Raising his hands to his mouth, his voice cracking as it echoes around him, “Regto! Regto, can you hear me!”
He doesnt know what he’s expecting, knowing that there are a multitude of reasons as to why Regto wouldn’t be able to hear or answer him. But the resulting silence only pushes him to make his way around mountains of trash, hand resting against the compact structures of waste and discarded potential. He’s sure if he wasn’t so disoriented, he may have actually been excited by the heaps of trash that surround him like a never ending ocean. A valley of discarded items usually the thing of fantasies for the young boy. Shaking his head, he cups his gloved hands over his mouth once more and yells out into the vast unknown he's suddenly become part of.
“Regto! Please–just say something if you can hear me!” His throat constricts and he swallows down the odd lump that's appeared in his throat, the effort of the act causing his eyes to burn and his chest to tighten as his eyes desperately search the ground for any sign of his father.
He feels small and out of place, this whole place alien to him despite how familiar he had grown to the Apostles underground dump facilities. He had thought he knew what piles of trash meant, he had watched the streams of trash pour out the side of the island and had wondered what it would be like to be swept away in its currents and into the dark abyss that either swallowed it whole or left it to rot. Looking around himself, he shudders as he finds his answer.
Was this the hell he would spend countless nights wasting precious time worrying about? He doesn't know what he was expecting, realistically nothing since the pit had covered the ground beneath them like a veil. How much of what he knew was real? Was anything he thought he knew even a possibility anymore, or was he forced to rethink everything he knew.
He slowly makes his way across the wasteland, his worn shoes doing little to protect his flesh from the sharp pokes and prods that tear through the shoddy fabric. Ignoring every slip and stumble that occurs due to misplaced and clumsy feet, his mind only concerned about finding his father and getting him out of this hell hole. As he cautiously makes his way across the small landfill, he stops atop a small hill and raises his hands to his mouth to yell once more despite his vocal cords breaking at the strain–
“Regto! Reg–”
He yelps as the ground suddenly begins to shake under him, his knees buckling as the uneven ground unforgivingly throws him to the side, the jagged edges of various objects digging into his side despite his robes thick fabric. Cursing, he quickly folds into himself, bringing his knees to his chest and his gloved hands to his head as he hears various objects clank and thud as they hit the ground as if falling from high in the air. Slightly shaking, he opens his eyes after they subconsciously closed and holds his breath as he takes in the monstrosity before him.
A towering beast of metal grows right in front of him, the surrounding trash and debris getting sucked into the construction of its body. An amalgamation that dwarfs him in size. His thoughts are rendered silent, his body tense as it jumps between the urge to freeze and run at the overwhelming presence. His mind can't make sense of it, a beast of that size seemingly making itself from the ground up, a body with four limbs and a ginormous head appearing out of nowhere.
His body only jolts him into action when the beast starts moving towards him with thundering steps and a deafening roar that shakes his bones from within his body. Despite know it wont do much, he can’t resist the urge to cover his ears as he dashes away, the ground shaking as the thing behind him begins to lumber after him.
His chest burns at the exertion of his limbs, pure adrenaline pushing him faster and faster as he begins to see other piles of garbage pull itself into moving as if waking from a deep slumber. He tries his best to weave around the odd structures of trash that block his way forward, each step now a calculated dash to keep moving forward and not trip or stumble as the hundreds of pounds of living garbage chase after him. He has barely any time to blink as one of the monsters chasing him dives at him from the side, forcing him to duck and leap out of the way; the hard ground causing the air in his lungs to forcibly exhale from his body.
Heaving, he forces himself back onto his feet and starts running with a renewed vigor, the resounding howling from the beasts behind him seeming to echo all around him as his body is pushed to the limit. The ground shakes, whether due to the ferocity of their roaring or their heaping bodies running after him he can't tell, the vibrations force the garbage beneath him to become unstable and be swept away right from under him. As he's taken away with the sudden landslide, he can only curse and hiss as his body is tossed and thrown against various objects; ears ringing at every impact, hands injecting red hot agony into the rest of his body.
Landing with a thud, he groans and tries to stumble back to his feet despite the nausea that boils up his throat. He can only cough and leave spittle behind as he rises to his hands and feet, stumbling as his hand slips off something. Whipping his head down, he can barely register what he slipped on before his mind grows blank with static.
A human skull.
Browned and chipped with age as it lays on unholy land. Was this what became of anyone who was cast away into the pit? The abyss stripping them of their sins and flesh only to leave the bone to rot with the rest of the garbage of the sphere. His mind is washed in a static as he tries to look anywhere but the ground below him; looking forward as he wipes a rough glove against his lips. He doesn't have time for this spiral, he has to get away from the monstrous beasts he can still hear rummaging behind him, uncaring of his internal struggles or his shaken faith, if he had any to begin with.
There's bound to be somewhere he can take a small breather, even with this heavy air sticking to his windpipes. Anything to take him away from the death and decay that surrounds him like an ever constant reminder, of the ones who came before him and to what he might become. What Regto might’ve become…
His body subtly convulses with each new breath that fills his lungs, the smell alone enough to make him dizzy like a rabidly decreasing time limit he wasn't under the impression of being under. Every inhale makes his lungs sputter and constrict as the polluted air sticks to his organs like tar. His eyes are frantic as they scan the horizon now, the lack of oxygen doing little to soothe his already frayed nerves; how can he even be sure there's anything aside from these beasts? Hunting after him like hounds with a scent, sniffing after his sins and wrong doings as if getting himself and his father thrown into this hell wasn't punishment enough.
Slamming his head against the ground, he tries to calm the racing thoughts rising in his head. Gritting his teeth, he urges his body forward, taking a single step before he's coughing up a mixture of phlegm and blood onto the ground mere inches away from where he had spilled his guts moments prior. Groaning, he forces his forehead off the ground and brings the back of gloved hand and places it against his chapped lips. His heart beat is in his ears, almost drowning out the bastard beasts creaking behind him as they start stalking closer to him. He can barely think straight, his thoughts screaming for revenge, finding Regto, and surviving all into a sickly rage inside him.
Glaring forward, his eyes widen as he sees a rusted pipe laying on the ground in front of him. He's uneasy as he pushes himself up to his feet, ignoring the twinge in his ankle as he stumbles his way forward and grips the weak metal in his hands. Turning around, he can only glare at the approaching figures as he tightens his grip around the pipe; he doesn’t know what he could possibly do with it against these towering monsters but he refuses to die. His innermost thoughts and desires scream at him that he has to find a way back up to the sphere, find Regto and find out just where the fuck he is, no matter what. A brief memory surfaces in his mind as he stares down the beasts that start to circle him; his father kneeling at the altar of his execution, robes drenched in sweat and blood but despite it all still finding the energy to settle Rudo’s spiking horror with small smiles and uncertain reassurances.
He refuses to give up, to abandon the man that took him in when he was nothing more than an homeless orphan. The man who was cast away to the same hell as Rudo for the mere sin of taking him under his care. He’ll get through this bullshit not through pure desperation to live, but rather the determination to find his father and get back at those who sent them down to this purgatory in the first place.
The air grows with electricity, turning the already soupy air to become charged for reasons he cannot name. It's then when he takes a heavy step towards the first beast that draws itself into his eye line, the following moments a blur of violence and barbarity as pieces of trash disburse around him. He barely blinks as dull waves of pain travel up his arms and bring his hands to an ever familiar stabbing numbness with every strike against the metal monsters. He can only focus on the overwhelming rage that fills his soul and body as the fight continues, his sight practically blacking out as the adrenaline makes his vision wane. His body runs on auto pilot whenever his gloved hands reach to switch over to a different weapon, a variety of scrap and leftover materials, as blood pools down his nose and smears his chin before tainting the ground below him.
Exhaustion only hits his body after the final strike, stumbling to stay upright as his chest heaves for air. His body feels heavy, the world around him spinning as nausea once again rolls his stomach like hot acid licking at his insides. He has barely any time to react as yet another beast appears behind him and flings him into another clearing, leaving him grunting as he brings his hands to cover his head once more. He only blinks open an eye at the lack of trash that hits his head and is surprised to see a masked figure holding an umbrella over them both.
Yelping in surprise, Rudo opens his mouth to shout something, anything before he’s roughly kicked over onto his back and grits his teeth in pain as he stares up at the bastard he’s just run into.
“What the fuck dude–Why’d you kick me–?”
He can barely get the question out before a sleek black gas mask is roughly placed apon his face, hands quickly rushing to his face; he holds the mask in place with one as the other tightens the mask's worn straps in pure desperation. His chest still hurts, but the filtered air feels less like a knife to lungs at every shaky inhale. The man himself has a full mask, its pale base only interrupted by two large black crosses placed where his eyes ought to be. Any and all of his features are covered in a mask of anonymity until a deep hushed voice echoes in the small clearing around them.
“Zip it, ‘kay?”
The man accompanies his order with a small motion across where his lips would be, and anger slowly begins to take over the shock that has numbed his body. Sitting on the ground, Rudo can’t help it as his gloved hands whip around him and his voice volume grows in frustration.
“W-What? No, what is this place?! Are you from here? Is it like this everywhere?”
“Hey, lets be quiet for a sec yeah?”, The man briskly turns his head left and right, as if looking around as he does the quieting motion once more.
The lack of answers only serves for Rudo's turbulent emotions to surge even more, eyes squinting at the man as he all but demands for him to say something other than ‘be quiet’.
“Why do we have to be quiet? Is it ‘cause of those beasts? What are they anyway–”
A low groan escapes the man as he brings a hand to the front of his mask, pinching the part between the air hose and the mask as one would pinch the bridge of their nose in frustration.
“Listen kid, if you would just shut up for a moment–”
Rudo wants to keep his temperature under control, Regto has tried since the moment he had adopted him to find ways of soothing his anger and finding other ways of dealing with his problems aside from violent and harsh words; but Regto isn't here, and the man that would usually tell him to think this through or clean up his messes to nowhere to be found as he shouts at the man, his words echoing throughout the clearing.
“I don’t care about what you want right now, asshole! Tell me where we are! What is this place?!” The young boy leans forward on his knees and gets closer to the man as one question after another leaves his shaky lips, “Have you seen anyone wearing the same robes as me–?”
Whipping his head around the man stomps closer to the boy and digs a hand into the hood of his robes, dangling the kid like a cat would their kittens scruff as he puts a finger in front of his own lips.
“Shhh!! If you would just–”
Battering his hands away, Rudo finally brings himself to stand before the older man, face surely flushed as his anger brings him to start yelling at the man in front of him as his anxiety starts to pick away at his more sensible thoughts; “Stop shushing me, you bastard! Why won't you tell me anything?! Just tell me if you’ve seen someone like me please–”
Grabbing Rudo by his shoulders, the man gently shakes him back and forth as his voice finally starts yelling out into the clearing; the hushed, wispy tone of his voice quickly swapped for a booming husk that causes the young boy's head to shrink back.
“ Firstly, I haven’t seen anyone like you, okay?! At least not anyone alive–”
“What?!–”
The man doesn't hesitate in shaking him harder, Rudo’s head barely able to stop itself from being flung back and forth, “No! It's my turn to talk! And secondly we are currently on the ground–”
The man releases one of his shoulders and waves a hand around them, gesturing to the ocean of garbage that surrounds them in every direction, “In the middle of a wasteland–”
“–and you are severely messing this up for us!”
The pair both freeze as a loud roar echoes from above him, the beast that had flung Rudo now making its way towards them as it swallows down any trash in its way making its body grow far larger than when Rudo had last seen it. Looking over the man's shoulder, he cant help be slightly hide behind the older man as the beast grows closer, the rage inside him quickly being doused with a fresh wave of anxiety causes a small shiver to run up his back as the older man whips his gaze from Rudo to the best above them.
“Oh, now look at what you’ve done! They’re all waking up now cause someone couldn’t keep their damn mouth shut!”
Embarrassment causes his cheeks to slightly colour as he turns his gaze from the towering monster to the man in front of him as he still grips his shoulders, “H-hey! You were yelling too–”
“I’m not normally this loud! It's all your fault, you little brat!”
Huffing, the man releases Rudo’s shoulders and flutters his umbrella away from his body, its sleek materials tapping against the garbage that lays at their feet, “They’re attracted to sound, just an FYI, and now all the trash beasts in the nearby area are going to be gunning for our heads thanks to you–”
Growling, his hands shoot out around him as he glares at the back of the dumb mask, “How would I have any idea of anything that you’re talking about–”
Pointing at the beast, he barely breathes before continuing, “Besides, I thought I took one of them down–”
“You can’t take them down by ordinary means.”
The man simply shrugs his shoulders, an umbrella now consumed in a golden light as the man's hands make a golden aura emerge. Staring in amazement, Rudo takes in the small transformation of the umbrella as the golden aura begins to cover the man's entire body as it flows around him. The worn umbrella replacing its tattered materials with that of new silk and golden spikes adorn its hinges. The boy can barely blink as the older man whips the umbrella up and through the rabidly approaching trash beast, a golden strike glowing over its body before it seemingly explodes from the inside out; some of its parts landing near Rudo turning to ash mere moments later.
“Whatever, you just sit there and stay outta my way while I–”
“Clean this mess up~”
Blinking rapidly, Rudo can barely keep up with the other man's movements as he seemingly dances across the sky, his umbrella wreaking havoc amongst all the monsters in seconds leaving Rudo to simply sit back and watch. He can’t help the roaming questions and thoughts that ravenge his mind; What is that umbrella? Was it always a weapon or did he do something to it? If he was able to have something like that, would he be able to take down the sphere?
As the older man floats through the air, Rudo can't help the small gasp that escapes his throat as he opens his mouth to yell some kind of warning as he notices the massive trash beast begins to pool garbage in its throat and spews it towards him. But his fears are short lived as the older man deflects the sludge with his umbrella, his figure barely moving in the sky before he dashes towards the beast and uses its head as a jumping board into the sky; before he begins to rabidly spin and blast a hole in the last trash beast standing, its body decaying into ash in seconds.
Looking around, he can't help but marvel at the fact that the older man got rid of all 6 of those beasts within minutes and seemingly with little to no effort. The show of absolute destruction mesmerizing, Rudo couldn’t help the begrudging admiration that begins to grow in his chest as the man makes his way back to the young boy. Sharply swishing his weapon to the side and throwing off any gunk that had found its place there.
Wearily looking up at the man who had saved his life, Rudo can't help the small quiver in his voice as he asks the man one finally question,
“Who are you…?”
With a small chuckle, the man raises his hands and starts unscrewing the back of his mask. The first thing that Rudo sees is unruly blonde hair, the locks flopping out of the mask yet still stay in their spiked positions; The sides of his head are shaved, a scar present on one side that seems to have healed ages ago. He has piercing gold eyes that squint as a small smirk takes over his face, it feels almost natural on him, as if Rudo can already tell that he does it a lot despite this being their first time meeting.
“Names Enjin–Cleaner, at your service~”
He presents a cool image, his posture calm as he looks down at the boy with varying degrees of humour and sarcasm. His umbrella’s handle is looped around one of his arms, while his opposite hand holds the gas mask gently in its grasp. And it all immediately leaves as his face scrunches up and he quickly shoves the gas mask back over his mouth and nose, grumbling and groaning the entire time as his eyes begin to water.
“Fuck, that stinks something rancid. You made me talk off my mask to look all cool and shit. Now look a’ what you’ve done, you brat!”
Immediately pissed off, Rudo stands and turns away from the bastard, taking steps away from him regardless of the help he just provided and the fact that the world is spinning around him at increasing speeds. Throwing a middle finger over his shoulder, he forces his way forward and tries to act unaffected.
“Whatever, asshole!” One step after the other becomes increasingly heavy, his stomach rolling as spit begins to pool in his mouth causing both his head and body to feel flashes of shivers as they wrap round his body, “I don’ have time… for th’s…”
The last thing he can hear is the resigned words of the older man before he's suddenly unconscious.
“Well, shit–”
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🚯
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He wakes up to the sky moving above him, mask still tightly secured to his face. As he feels his body get dragged along the ground, he moves to raise his arms only to be stopped as rope securely binds him in place.
“What the hell is this–”
“Oh, you’re up? Great…”, it comes from ahead of him, no doubt Enjin, as they finally come to a stop.
Moving to look up, he sees the man suddenly taking out a pair of binoculars, looking across the horizons between wherever they are and wherever they were heading. He cant help but try and wiggle side to side as he angrily demands answers from the once thought ally.
“W-what are you doing?! Untie me, Asshole!”
Humming, the man simply puts down his binoculars and shifts the rope over his shoulders and continues to drag the young boy across the ground, “You forget my name or something? It's Enjin! En-jin–”
Thrashing his body around, he even goes as far as yanking his head back to attempt to bite at the rope, only growling when he can’t reach it, “I don’t give a fuck! You bastard, let me go!”
Throwing a look over his shoulder, the emotionless mask still somehow gives off the distinct feeling of disapproval, “That shouldn’t be how you talk to someone who just saved your life, brat. Where's a little gratitude–”
Rudo can't help the somewhat disbelieving cackle that leaves his lips as he continues to try and wiggle himself out of the ropes for no reason other than making this as hard on the bastard as he can, “Gratitude?! You tied me up–”
The older man barely slows to a stop, or shows any sign of being affected by the young boys attempts, simply continuing on the beaten path, “It’s only because I'm such a nice guy that I decided to even bring you along, you little shit!”
“If you're such a nice guy, let me go! I have to go look for my dad, you asshole!”
“Listen kid, I hate to be the bearer of bad news but your dad is probably a splatter on the ground, you’re the exception, not the rule–”
“You don't know that! I lived so he could be just fine! He was hurt before they sent him down! I need to find him!”
Finally stopping, Enjin drops the rope and turns around, his umbrella blocking the dark sky above him as his gross mask leers down at him. His tones suggest he’s bored of this conversation, or at least dismissive, and Rudo can only bring himself to glare up at the man.
“You’re little ‘sphere’ is constantly moving, so unless you guys took your little tumble at the same time, he could be anywhere now, kid.”
Flinching, Rudo looks away from him and to the surrounding garbage. He doesn't want to think about the possibilities of Regto being anything but alive. A brief thought invades his mind of his father laying on a pile of garbage, dead or near death as he breathes in the toxic air; he doesn't want to imagine his steel eyes dulling due to blood loss or simply dying on impact. Shaking his head, he slams his eyes shut and tries to ignore anything else the bastard might say to him, he’s aware he’s being slightly unreasonable but he can’t bring himself to care. Unless he sees physical proof of Regto…gone, he won’t change his goals; no matter what that might mean for him.
In the sudden silence, Rudo can still feel the presence of Enjin above him, still stationary in his perch above the boy. As if in a small after thought, he adds a small hushed note “...Sorry to break it to ya…”
Snapping his eyes open, he throws another glare at the older man; ignoring the burning behind his eyes and the return of the ever present lump in his throat; he refuses to sniffle or try to hide his gaze, staring directly into those two black crosses with as much defiance and anger he can muster, “I don’t care! As long as there's a chance he's alive I’m not gonna stop looking for him!”
Twisting his body so he's on his front, he digs his knees into the hard soil, causing the older man in front of him to stumble slightly as Rudo continues to tear his body away from the bastard, each tug at the rope punctuating his words. “So, let, me, go, Asshole!”
Ripping off his mask, Enjin throws a frustrated glare at the boy, his gas mask blocking the scowl that's most likely across his lips as he drops the rope and makes his way as he throws his hands up in a mock surrender, “Fine! You wanna be let go so bad, there!”
Yanking the rope so Rudo falls on his side, Enjin once again drags the small boy over to the entrance of a clearing he hadn't noticed before. Grunting as Enjin tosses him into the small clearing, he quickly rises to his knees; rope digging uncomfortably into his body, his robes the only protection against its broken surface. Whipping his head up to the only other person he's met since falling down into this hell hole, he can only stare in shock as the older man simply walks off with nothing more than a nonchalant wave of his hand as the other twirls his umbrella.
“Since you're allergic to listening to anything I have to say, you can go see what it’s like to live in this world yourself!”
Watching until Enjin is no longer in sight, Rudo only sighs as his deep seated anxiety starts to build once more. Once again abandoned, he only bites the insides of his cheek as he looks around himself.
“Bastard…”
Scanning his surroundings, he’s annoyed to find that it looks like every other place he’s seen so far; dusty clearings with trash thrown everywhere. Groaning, he wiggles his arms and only huffs in frustration as they give little to no budge. He flexes his hands and can only flinch when liquid pain pours over his hand like lava, hunching his shoulders he bites his tongue to keep any pained sounds stuck in his chest.
“Hey is that a kid–?”
Whipping his body around, he freezes as he sees a group of men gathered around trucks with text he can't make out. His body grows tense as they stalk closer to him, they’re gas masks covering they’re whole head making his skin crawl as he subtly gets to his feet, staying low to the ground as he eyes up the men approaching him.
“Whats a kid doing all the way out here?”
“Hey wait–those clothes!”
“No way!”
“Hey kid, you wouldn’t happen to be a spherite would you?”
The question throws him off, any desire to talk wiped from his vocal cords as he continues to stare at the men in front of them. He may be new to the ground, but he’s been conditioned long before falling to this hell to see anyone and everyone as a threat. Regto’s warnings of eyeing strangers with a degree of caution that borderline paranoia resurfacing in his mind as he glares at the people that eye him like a slab of meat.
The slums may not have been as fantastical as the ground, but if he’s learned anything within his short stay here; it’s that they arent so different. There's an air of cruelty here that matches that of the sphere almost perfectly, the men around him positioned in ways he’s come to recognize in the postures of the more active criminals of the slums. He may not be able to see their faces, but he can almost feel their stares digging into his skin like daggers. From what they’ve said already he can feel his skin prickling in its unease.
“Hey, c’mon kid! What, you can’t speak or somethin?”
Eyeing the direction that Enjin ran off too, he can only curl his upper torso closer to his knees. He tries to think about his options, the men nigh surrounding him are unknown and therefore dangerous; Regto’s warning playing on repeat in his mind. But so was Enjin, and he had helped him, saved his life before he threw him into this situation.
Testing the give of the ropes around him, he can’t suppress the small shiver of anxiety that crashes through his body; he's tied up, he can walk and run but even without knowing of the dangers of the surface he knows that being half tied up will get him nowhere. He has limited options, and he can only hope that these guys are harmless as he shakily opens his mouth to give a strained reply.
“Uh…well, you could say that I’m from there–”
The men around him immediately throw up their hands in celebration, causing Rudo to curl up even further and suppress the urge to just get up and run. Eying the man wearing only a tank top, he can’t help but gulp as he sees the well defined muscles of his body as he towers over even his own crew. He doubts he’d be able to get far anyways.
“Aw shit! You’re really from the sphere?”
“Shit this is our lucky day–”
“Shut up, moron–”
“I never thought I’d see one alive! Incredible!”
“Hey kid, what’re you doing all tied up? Lets get these off of you–” The one Rudo assumes is the leader takes off his mask and moves closer to him,
As the man roughly tugs on the ropes that wrap around his midsection, Rudo can barely hold back the impulse to head butt the man in front of him. Jumping away from him, he puts a sizable amount of distance between him and the men, not enjoying the sudden move into his space. His chest restricts on itself and his thoughts go haywire as he stares at the men in front of him.
“H-hey! Back off–”
“What? You wanna stay tied up?”
Gritting his teeth, he tries to soften his words. He was careless with Enjin and the bastard abandoned him. Sighing, he doesn’t attempt to smile but rather relax his eyes as he awkwardly walks back over to the man, slow and unsure as he eyes him warily.
“N-no, just, I really need to go find my dad, okay? So, if you could untie me that would be…” He awkwardly looks down at his arms, before looking back up at the men, “Great..”
He winces and resists the urge to close his eyes as he shyly adds the last bit, “Please and thank you…”
“Oh really? Well, we can get you out of those ropes right away!” With a small start the man crouches down in front of Rudo and gives him a small smile as he places his hands on the rope and guides him so that his back to the other men.
Unsure, Rudo stays still and tensely stands there and waits for the man to start undoing the knots that Enjin had placed beforehand. At the resulting lack of nothing, he opens his mouth to ask what he's waiting for when he suddenly feels hands grab him from behind and hoist him over a tall shoulder. Kicking his legs, he thrashes his body around with little to no effect on the muscular man below him.
“What’re you assholes doing?! Let me go!”
“So, demanding~”
The group around him erupt in chuckles as hes brought closer and closer to the van, he tries to kick at the back of the man carrying him before he's violently thrown into the back of the moving truck. Slapping a mask onto the boy's face, two men jump into the back of the moving truck with Rudo and quickly push his hands into the ready cuffs welded to the back. Cursing now muffled, as they quickly get out of the way of his aggressive jabs in their direction. Acting more like a wild animal cornered than an actual human being.
The leading man makes his way to the opening of the moving truck, his features heavily shadowed as he looks into the truck at his live prisoner with little pity or hesitation. Just feeling the bastard's eyes on him makes him act up once more, yelling curses and glaring daggers at the piece of shit that smirks at him.
“You know, there's only been one other spherite like yourself who survived the fall, and they ended up getting away from us.”
“Which means, you get special treatment~”
At the sudden mention of a Spherite getting out the grips of these bastards, Rudo can't help but pray that it was Regto. He wants to tear off the quickly fashioned gag from his mouth and curse at them, ask them about the spherite they lost, if it was the man he was looking for. But even if he somehow could ask them questions, he doubts they’d answer. Their sudden hatred for him outweighing anything else they could be considering at the moment.
Tugging at the restraints, he can't help but continue to thrash his body around. Tugging the chains as far as they could go despite the stain it put on his wrists, he refuses to stay still as the men outside continue to look in on him as if an animal in a cage. Greed consuming their eyes as they stare down what must be a decent paycheck chained up in the back of their moving truck.
“Look at him, all worked up now.”
“Listen kid, You sky people sell for a pretty penny, and that's when you’re bodies are tattered to ribbons,”
“So who knows what someone will pay for a live one!”
Barely paying attention to the psychotic maniac monologuing in front of him, Rudo continues to pull and tug at the chains. At the resolute lack of a reaction, the man huffs in frustration and begins to rant even louder; as if the volume of his shitty speech is the reason for the young boy's disrespect and not the rage that festered under his skin.
“Don’t you get it? Everyone on the ground hates you fuckers, the damn polluters of the sky.”
The man's face gets increasingly red the more worked up he gets, his eyes glaring at the small boy and seeing an enemy of the state rather than the child he is. He doesn’t know what he's done to deserve being titled everyone's problem, the tribes folk seeing him as little more of a reminder or their sins and seemingly now he is being attributed the target of this group's anger against the sphere; probably due to the fact that every other spherite they pick up are little more than dead and decaying bodies.
He had always wondered what happened to those that had been thrown down to the pit, and he supposed that this was his answer. Whether they deserved it or not, they were sent to this hell. Reduced to trash and a way to make money instead of living beings, it made his stomach roll as he was forced to endure the chronic whining that these pieces of shit kidnappers seem appropriate to vent to their victim.
“–raining down your garbage on us, as if we don’t have enough! You’ve been passively killing us for generations now, boy.”
A demented gleam entered his eyes as he looked upon the struggling spherite they had caught in their metal web of chains and steel, “So what do you think will happen when they see a live sky person, it’ll be short of a live torture show~”
Crawling into the back of the truck, he pours the bucket of trash into the back of the vehicle. Rudo couldn’t make out what was dumped in front of him, but he barely had time to even register the smell before the man crowded into his space and ripped off the mask they had just forced on him, “You’re too scrawny, we can't have you dying of hunger just yet,”
“Open wide~”
The man roughly squishes his cheeks together to force his mouth open. His other hand drags itself through the garbage and brings a piece of soiled garbage to his lips. His heart beat reaches his ears and adrenaline courses through his body so fast it makes him dizzy before he forces his head out of the man's grasp and bites down around the man's fingers, trash and all before yanking his head away.
He can only taste blood as it gushes into his mouth. His teeth grinding down on the bones and meat that suddenly fill his mouth, quickly gulping everything down even as the parts that remained unchewed, even if the taste gets stuck at the base of his throat. He attributes the tears building behind his eyelids as a result of heart burn rather than undigested terror as he darkly glares at the man as he scrambles away from him, harshly hitting the ground as his men murmur at the unexpected events.
Now that the mask has been removed from his mouth, words tumble out of his mouth. “You fucking bastards! You think I don’t know what it's like to go hungry? To eat garbage cause it's all there's left?”
Body twisting and turning in the restraints as he yanks his gloved hands against the cuffs. His vision blacks out as his body pushes him harder and harder, wrists creaking under the strain. The rusted metal of the chains reminds him of how he was hung above the pit, the restraints digging into his wrists as he was discarded as nothing. When he looks back up from the bed of the moving van to the men, he struggles to distinguish them from the apostles from the sphere, his mind only recognizing the shared hostility of both places.
“Whether it's up there or down here, it doesn’t matter, everyone's just a waste of goddamn air! All you do is find ways to label people so you can treat them like garbage–”
Growling, he gives one final yank to the chains and stumbles forward as they detach from the walls of the van; the air sparkles in electricity as he leans back on his hind legs and dashes his way out of the back of the vehicle. The chains around him sparking and clanging as they scrape against the ground, a red aura embracing them as they transform into jagged rings of metal.
“I’ve had enough! I'm not going to lie down and take it any longer!”
He barely registers the chains as he whips them forward, his gloves emitting the same red light as he remembers what Regto used to say about objects having souls. It always strikes him as a truth of the world, if you treat things well and how they ought to be treated, then why wouldn’t they grow they’re own soul?
He still remembers the day he came back after being ambushed by the small gang of kids that had it especially out for him, pushing him into the dirty water that puddled in the alley ways and calling him a freak. He barely remembered how he got home, mind and heart racing as he made his way down cruddy pathways and narrow alleyways; untapped anger and violence boiling under his skin making his hands burn as he quietly pushed open the door to his and Regto’s shared home.
Regto was settled on the couch, his new living quarters since picking up Rudo off the streets, writing in his book as he always did. It took him but a second to notice the small boy standing in the entrance of their home, eyes flickering between him and the book for a single moment before doing a double back at the young boy covered in mud and soot.
“Jesus, Rudo, are you okay? What happened?”
“The other kids…I told them that objects were ‘alive’, like you told me and they…pushed me.”
With a small huff of air, the older man quickly made his way towards the small boy. Gently kneeling in front of him as he rested one hand on the small boy's shoulder and the other raised up to cup his small cheek. Humming, Regto swept his thumb under his ruby eyes.
“Did you get back at them?”
The boy could only silently shake his head, and could only feel a bit relieved at the older man's smile as he raised his hand to caress his ashen locks,
“Good…”
With gentle hands, Regto guides the shaking boy to the couch. Not caring about the mud that flaked off onto the couch's already shoddy fabric as he set him down onto its patchy surface. Quickly making his way to the small kitchen beside them, he grabs a towel and makes his way back to the boy and gently dabs the muck off the poor boy's cheek. The calm silence that encompasses the small home is enough to finally let Rudo’s shoulders drop their tense posture, breath slowing with every gentle swipe of the towel. The young boy can’t help but nervously look into Regto's eyes as time passes, a question burning on his tongue.
“You said…that if you take care of something for a long time that it’ll get a soul. I believed that…is it wrong?”
Pausing, the older man gives Rudo a bit of a bewildered look before continuing to wipe away the grime on his skin, “I did say that, and I suppose you hearing that a soul would imply that they’re ‘alive’.”
Looking up at the boy, he gives him a small reassuring smile, “But it’s just an old saying. A small story to teach people to take care of their things, or appreciate what they have..”
The older man takes a small moment to look playfully back and forth, as if checking their surroundings, it causes Rudo to look around himself before locking back in on Regto. The man hunches his shoulders and moves closer, beckoning the small boy closer, he gives a small smirk as he hushes his tone, as if sharing a precious secret. The young boy can’t help his bubbling curiosity as he leans closer as well, their foreheads almost touching.
“Though, I don’t think you're wrong to believe it, per say, cause you see Rudo…” Seeing the young boy lean even closer in, he can't help but hold his breath, drawing out the silence until he sees the boy's eyes squinting in impatience, “I believe in it too.”
Blinking in surprise, the young boy can’t help but stare at his father in the innocent confidence that all children have for their parents, “You do?”
“Mhm, take this towel for instance, it must have a soul cause it just loves cleaning you up hm?”
He purposefully ruffles the towel in the boy's hair, causing it to poke out in all directions due to the static before he soothes the hair down once more. The young boy only raises his small hands to the older man's wrists, as if holding onto him will make this far cry fairy tale any more real.
“It does?”
The older man can only smile and give a small nod as the boy continues to grow more and more excited. His hands pointing in every direction to point at a various, if not limited, selection of objects that find themselves in their small home.
“Then does your couch have a soul? And that, and that–”
With a small nod, Regto crosses his arms and watches as the point gets worked up to the point of excitement, a rare sight that he can't help but appreciate as he plays into the sudden game the young boys created, “Sure, why not~”
Pausing in his sudden pointing fit, Rudo looks down at his own hands and shyly looks back up at Regto as he offers his gloved hands to him, “Do these…gloves have a soul?
Blinking in surprise, the older man crouches down to Rudo’s level and gently takes the small hands into his own, sending him another smile as he points towards the oversized pair of gloves that drape over the young boy's hands, “If you take care of them long enough, yeah. Cherish em’–”
“And I’m sure they’ll take care of you too, one day.”
His fathers voice slowly fades as Rudo comes back to the present, his gloves strumming with energy as the chains continue to spark and emit the red aura. He glowers at the men in front of him as he pulls the chains back and crouches into a ready stance.
“What’re you guys waiting for!? Get him–”
The men around him hover in inaction, uncertainty locking their joints as they pass looks between each other.
“Boss, he's a giver! I didn’t think a spherite would be able to do that–”
“I don't care what you think! Get him! He ate my fucking fingers!”
At the sudden command from their leader, various men get into their own ready positions, others grabbing different weapons and dashing towards him. Raising his hand, he draws the whip-like construction of chains down onto the muscled man that had thrown him into the back of the truck, taking neither satisfaction nor joy from the action as he focused on the other men circling him.
Yanking his hand back, the chains take out one more man before another takes advantage of the dust the chains and dug up; using a metal pipe to smack the cuff off his wrist, muttering something about gifters being reliant on their objects before reaching behind him and placing a hand on a tire and transforming it into a thicker, more spikier version of itself.
“He can use more than one weapon–?!”
The man is suddenly struck quiet as the tire is slammed onto his face, leaving behind a bloody nose and a fiery red tire print behind. Walking out of the cloud of dust, Rudo neutrally notes that the only man left is the one cowering on the ground, holding his missing fingers as he stares up at Rudo with a mixture of anger and disgust.
“You fucking monster! All you sky people deserve to rot–”
“Send the filth to the pit!”
Holding the tire above him, he gets ready to slam it into this guy's face. Head buzzing with adrenaline and static, he barely registers when a warm hand finds itself on his shoulder, barely holding back the impulse to switch targets as a voice yells out from behind him.
“Woah! There there, kid! Lets just take a moment to calm down…”
Looking over his shoulder, he's surprised to be met with the same face that he thought abandoned him.
“En..jin?”
With a small chuckle, the man brings a finger under his chin with a small smirk; “So you do remember my name,” At the resulting silence, he takes a peak at Rudo’s face and lightly tsk’s at himself, “Yeah kid, it's me, let's just leave this guy alone yeah?”
Stumbling back, Rudo drops the tire and brings a hand up to his head. Groaning at the sudden headache that assaults his skull, he blinks as the wet feeling of blood trails down his nose and over his chin.
“Enjin? W-what? How did I…?”
“What did I…do?”
Quickly catching Rudo by the shoulder, Enjin gently guides the exhausted kid away from the cowering man on the ground. Side stepping any and all debris that remained after the relatively short battle, as Rudo wipes his nose with the back of his gloves. Grimacing as he sees yet another pool of bloop staining the already dirty fabric; he can only hope this isn't the norm of his new residence on the ground.
“Sorry, this was all my fault! It was a dick move to just abandon you like that but I just needed to see if you were a giver!”
“A…giver?”
At the slightly dazed reply, Enjin looks down and meets Rudo’s ruby eyes.
“How’s about this? I’ll teach you about this world, your power, and anything your little head can think up.” Ruffling a large hand into his ashen locks, the older man just continues to smirk down at the small boy.
“And in exchange, you join us cleaners~ We have an opening for talent just like yours!”
Staring up at the man, Rudo can only blink before shrugging off Enjin’s hands on his shoulders and turning to face him with a dumbfounded expression.
“...Uh, No, I don't want to do that.”
Blinking, Enjin looks down at the kid in a dazed disbelief, voice flat as the confusion rushes to his brain.
“Huh?”
Brushing off his hands, Rudo turns away and starts towards the entrance of the clearing, making a mental map in his mind as he thinks on how to get back to where he first landed.
“Listen Enjin, no offense but I literally couldn’t care less about what your agency of cleaners or whatever the fuck, needs right now, okay? None of it matters until I find my dad!”
Ignoring the sound of following footsteps, Rudo keeps his eyes forward.
“So until that happens, I don’t have time to do whatever it is you want me to do! This entire thing has already been a huge waste of time!”
With a small chuckle, Enjin gently stops the child that's currently stomping away from him with two hands placed on his shoulders. Ignoring the young boys cry of outrage, he easily turns Rudo around, sending him a charming smile as he tries a different approach.
“Okay, okay, you’re right,” At the resulting skeptical look, Enjin is quick to continue, “finding your dad is important. But, wouldn’t that go way faster if you had people who actually lived here to help ya’?”
Looking between Enjins face and hands, he can only shrug as he considers the older man's words.
“...Yeah, I guess”
Smiling widening, Enjin moves his hand from the young teens shoulders and instead pokes him in the middle of his forehead, holding back a smirk at the insulted look Rudo sends him “Then how's this, if you join the cleaners I’ll personally make sure that we find your dad, wherever he ended up!”
Giving a skeptical look, he can't help but scoff at the blonde, “You’d really help me? Even if you…think he's dead”
Enjin can't help the small grimace that crosses his lips at the reminder of his earlier words, “Hey now, Kid –”
“Rudo.”
“Rudo. Okay! Listen, I’ll admit I think this is little more than a pipe dream. But…” Dropping his smirk, his face changes into something more sincere, meeting vulnerability with vulnerability, “The fact that you were able to fall down here and live is enough to raise his chances from being absolutely dead, to maybe like…only being 80% dead. How's that?”
Squinting his eyes at the older man, he can only shakily nod at his words, “Better than nothing I guess…”
Following the man as he turns, Rudo rushes to match his pace; “So if I join the cleaners, you’ll help me find my dad? And figure out how to get back up to the sphere?”
Enjin shrugs as he twirls his umbrella over his shoulder, “Sure kid, whatever you want~”
The older man pauses in his strides and reaches out a tattoo’d hand in a shaking gesture. Rudo can only stare at it in disbelief before hesitantly raising his own hand to meet Enjin’s. After a brief shake, the two go back to moving towards the entrance of the clearing and towards a black jeep that rests just outside of it.
“You better not be lying to me!”
“Would never, scouts honor~”
Despite not knowing what ‘scouts honor’ could possibly mean in this context, Rudo just mentally shrugs it off and tries to trust the man who came back for him; or he supposes Enjin never truly left him, he's still an asshole though. An asshole who's going to help him find his dad, Rudo can already feel the annoyance bubbling up inside him at the enigma that the ground, or at least Enjin, is turning out to be. His first few hours on the ground were nothing of what he could have ever expected. But as he looks at the broad back of the umbrella wielding cleaner in front of him, he knows that this is the best move forward. He doesn’t care what joining the cleaners entails, he’ll do whatever they need from him as long as it brings him closer to finding Regto.
Enjin makes a beeline for the car, holding the back seat door open and gestures for Rudo to get in. After a brief moment of hesitation, Rudo looks over his shoulder towards the towering mountains of trash he can still see even from this far away.
Looking back at the man who seems to have all the patience in the world all of the sudden, a complete 180 from their first meeting, Rudo bites his tongue and slowly gets into the car. Sending a skeptical glance in Enjin's direction as he simply holds the door with a smirk. Closing the door with a gentle slam, he leans against the open window and looks down at the young teen.
“Now listen, if you wanna join the cleaners, you need to meet the boss! And before we do that, we should probably give you a small look over.”
Tilting his head, Rudo can't help but ask; “Where are we gonna go?”
“Well, I know a place..”