Chapter Text
It had already been a week since the Raiders visited the information broker. Momoa hadn’t woken up even once. Her limp body lies on a table in Zodyl’s workshop, monitored constantly by the boss himself. He didn’t want to leave her out of sight.
Three more weeks. The choker maker’s identity. The next piece in the Watchman series.
Despite his outwardly calm demeanor, Zodyl was impatient. He knew full well that the Cleaners were after the same thing. In a month’s time, the new Watchman item could very well be in their hands already.
So, every night, Zodyl sat in a chair next to Momoa and muttered into her ear.
”I need you to wake up. Tell me what you learned about the choker maker.”
”I know your thoughts are in disarray. Focus. Break through. For me.”
”You’re the only person I can rely on, Momoa. I need you.”
Days pass. Next to the sleeping Momoa lies a notepad and pencil. Zodyl left them out for her, in case she ever woke up when no one was around.
And his foresight bore fruit.
One morning, Zodyl checks up on her once again, and finds faint, struggled writing on paper, clearly scribbled out in a stupor. It read:
DOLL FESTIVAL
CHOKER MAKER IS LISTENING
“Momoa…” Zodyl murmurs. He looks down at the sleeping girl.
You did well.
He takes off both of their chokers immediately, rips off the sheet on the notepad, and leaves to make his preparations.
The Raiders would be first to find the choker maker. And Zodyl would finally obtain a second piece of the Watchman series.
• • •
The two Raiders, donning masks and cloaks, lie in wait and observed the Festival. He brought only Cthoni this time— the less attention they attracted, the better.
Cthoni silently points out the Cleaners. Zodyl notices that they too had taken off their chokers ahead of time. It confirmed to him they were here for the same reason.
Zodyl looks down at his new device. It was his latest experiment, imbued with a single thread from Mishra. It was a prototype Watchman series detector. The screen shows small blips around him, signifying the presence of anima— aka, vital instruments. But there were three large blips on the screen. One on his current location, one moving towards the stage, and another towards the back of the stands.
The first was himself, of course. The Watchman coat was imbued with a massive amount of anima.
The second was Rudo. The Watchman gloves. Zodyl made no expression as Rudo left the stage holding a massive bra.
Then, the third. Right on time, Cthoni comes back from surveillance to report her findings.
“It’s only the boots, sir. The girl is under the Cleaner’s protection.”
Zodyl remained stoic. Amo. It was a name Zodyl wasn’t familiar with until Rudo had wildly accused him of kidnapping her. So, they found her… well, as long as the boots remained under the Cleaner’s protection, he could take them again later. Besides— that young girl was clearly not the choker maker.
As a man with sunglasses and silly hair takes the stage, Zodyl looks back down at his machine. His eyes narrow.
Just barely within the radius of his machine, at the very base of the mountain where the Doll Festival was held— was a fourth blip. At the parking garage.
Zodyl glances at Cthoni, and she nods, opening a small portal. They slip away just as Mymo begins his speech.
• • •
Gountess had almost entirely given up on living.
His everyday existence was pain. Blood was siphoned out of his feeble body constantly. He was hooked into those accursed IV bags that kept him alive, and no matter how many times he ripped the cords out with his teeth, Mymo would always come back the next day to revive him again. He was a living corpse.
The only thing that kept him going was his sense of responsibility. The chokers that would soon enslave the world were his creation, not Mymo’s. He didn’t want to be complicit in the end of the world. He felt duty bound to stop him.
Gountess had sent a Hail Mary to Rudo Surebrec through Too Lily. He was a descendant of the Watchman, and a member of the Cleaners— if anyone could stop Mymo, it would be him.
But he was just a kid. Gountess had placed an immeasurable burden upon him. And as his special choker went silent, he couldn’t help but wonder if Mymo had already caught on.
“Please…” the choker maker whispers through chapped lips. His necklace glows a feeble green in the pitch black darkness.
“Please, anyone, stop this madness…”
Gountess hangs his head, light disappearing. He could feel it— Mymo had already taken control of everyone wearing a choker.
It was already too late.
His mind swirls with despair. Gountess was no longer of any use to Mymo. The news reporter would likely leave him to rot in the back of this truck, until the liquid in the IV bags ran out. He would die a slow, painful, and lonely death.
Nobody would ever even discover he was in here.
“Please… please!” he cries out to the darkness. His withered body struggled against his restrains. He thought he had given up on living. But once he reached the end of his rope, all he could do was cry out in desperation, begging fate to let him live.
“I’m in here! Let me out! Someone save me…!”
At that moment, an unfamiliar circle of light opens up in the truck. Gountess’ eyes widen, watching two unfamiliar figures step out… one tall, one short. He couldn’t believe it. After 20 long years, his cries for help were finally heard.
The tall man spots the necklace he is wearing. He speaks up.
“Thank you for activating your vital instrument. It made finding you in this maze of a parking lot much easier, choker maker.”
Gountess freezes in fear. He recalls faint conversations he overheard through chokers. There was much talk about the man who stood before him.
Zodyl Typhon, leader of a criminal organization called the Raiders.
Gountess leans his head back, grimacing as Zodyl reaches a hand forward and touches the pendent of his necklace. His thumb runs over the grooves of the Watchman symbol. The boss’ dark eyes flicker up to meet the choker maker’s.
“What is your name?”
“G… Gountess Knock. Please, I need your help…”
“What does your vital instrument do?”
“Listen to me, right now, Mymo has taken over the Doll Festival using my chokers and is controlling everyone!”
“One thing at a time. What does your vital instrument do?”
Gountess looks up wearily at the man in front of him. Despair crept in again. It was foolish to think that a sinner like him would be saved. No, he was just going to be robbed of his most precious possession by this ominous stranger.
But if that was his fate, then he would at least try and leverage it.
“My vital instrument, Connect, allows me to communicate and influence people’s souls. It’s how I created the chokers. If you’re going to take it from me, please… stop Mymo first. Then, I can die without regrets…”
“I’m not going to leave you to die.”
What?
Zodyl disables the locking mechanisms on the choker maker’s chair, freeing his arms. Gountess’ eyes widen, and he slowly bends his forearms for the first time in years.
He was in absolute disbelief. His eyes tear up.
The choker maker looks up at the man before him, grateful. Through eavesdropped conversations, he assumed Zodyl was a cold, ruthless psychopath— but right now, he was his savior.
He braces his hands on his armrests, and attempts to lift himself up, but… his withered feet couldn’t support him. Zodyl quickly puts a hand to his chest, easing him back into his seat.
“Cthoni will help you up in due time. First, show me your power, Gountess.”
Gountess nods, making a deep exhale from the physical effort. “Okay. Please, hand me the blood bag over there.”
The boss complies. Gountess closes his eyes, and the tubing glows, transforming into a red choker with metallic purple accents. He holds it out feebly, and Zodyl takes it.
“This choker is specifically made for you, and no one but you and I can speak through it. I made it with the intention of communicating with your soul,” Gountess explains. “Hopefully, it will be able to boost your vital instrument’s power… and help you take down Mymo.”
Zodyl looks down at Gountess’ exhausted, hopeful expression. He can’t help but make a minuscule smile.
“Thank you.” He puts on the choker. “I expect good results.”
While Zodyl gives Cthoni some orders to stay here and protect the choker maker, Gountess leans back, breathing a sigh of relief, his artificial heart beating fast. Somehow, he made another ally.
And with him, a glimmer of hope for the world.