Chapter Text
He was woken by a rough shaking and sharp fingers digging into his shoulder. 'Wakey wakey, Enderborn.'
The voice was familiar but not, the friendly tones he once knew so well now lost to him in all but his memories. His eyes flew open, then snapped shut almost immediately, half blinded and unwilling to look into those pale blue eyes.
'Not an option.' Her voice was stern, as if talking to a misbehaving animal, words punctuated by a harsh yank on his shirt, pulling him upright off the thin mattress. 'Now, are you going to co-operate and walk, or do I have to drag you?'
Nostrils flaring in barely-controlled anger, Rythian rose to his feet, straightening his back with fractured pride. He towered above his captor, but it made no difference. She knew his every fault and weakness, and there was nothing he could do, short of killing her; even if he was armed he knew he'd never be able to do it. He followed obediently, her strength surprising him yet again as she took his wrist into a vice-like grip.
As they made their way through the bright white corridors of the facility, Zoeya never once spared a glance at her old mentor, the silence broken only by their footsteps.
Presently, she stopped beside a heavy iron door, typing a code into the keypad on the right. The door quietly swung open, and pulling him forward, Zoeya released Rythian's wrist, shutting the door behind them. The bright fluorescent bulb stuttered to life with a click, revealing a large metal table with restraints at either side and along one end. A small, square tray sat on the counter set against far the wall, all kinds of intricate medical instruments gleaming on the sterile surface. Rythian's eyes widened then narrowed, his scarred mouth pulling back into a grimace. Zoeya brushed past him dismissively, ignoring his hostility. She worked with something at the counter for a moment, then she turned back to him with a syringe in hand, the needle glimmering in the light. Rythian snarled lowly, instincts screaming to fight.
'Now, now,' Zoeya scolded, pulling her goggles over her eyes. 'There's no need to be like that. This won't even hurt.'
Before Rythian could react, she had his arm twisted up behind his back and the needle into the muscle just below his shoulder. She depressed the plunger quickly and drew the needle out in one fluid movement, rubbing the area with her fingertips to diffuse the liquid now under his skin. 'Good boy,' she murmured as Rythian felt his limbs growing weak. Unable to support his frame any longer, he collapsed to his knees, clawing for purchase on the counter top as Zoeya looked on in apathy. The light seemed to swell and fill his vision for a split second, and then everything went black.
~ ~ ~
The first thing he noticed were the sounds. Nothing loud, but without his vision, his hearing was sensitive to the smallest thing. There was the soft rhythm of pacing feet, and occasionally the clink of metal. He stayed this way for a moment which could have been a minute or an hour, until a new noise broke the monotony. The door swished open, a pair of heavy boots entering the room. He thought he knew the sound from another place, but his drugged up mind refused to provide any explanation. There was the snap of latex gloves, then her voice echoed dully through the room.
'Why are you so late?'
Rythian could hear the sigh of fabric on fabric as the newcomer shrugged.
'Never mind, he's still under,' she declared lightly.
'Right. Where do you want to start?' That voice, that terrible, familiar voice... Rythian lay stunned. What the hell was he doing here? He gathered what was left of his strength, forcing his eyelids open, refusing to believe his ears. All he could see as his eyes adjusted was the ceiling and the lamp above the table. He was lying on his back on the table, arms and legs in the restraints he had noticed previously, metal cold and unyielding against his bare flesh. He tried to move his head to get a better view of the room, but it felt as if his bones had turned to lead. His mind was whirling with half formed thoughts and questions; belatedly, he realised the pair were now debating how to go about the situation. They stopped then, and Rythian heard them approach the table. Zoeya hummed tunelessly as he heard the tray being set down beside him. Lalna suddenly murmured, 'I'm going to check if he's still properly sedated, okay? His eyes are open.'
He felt fingertips press into his wrist, and then a face, framed by unruly blond curls, filled the right side of his vision. He pulled Rythian's eyelids wide, examining his pupils, then the scientist leant forward as if listening to his breathing, mouth close to his ear.
'I'm so sorry,' he breathed softly, before pulling away and declaring loudly, 'He'll be fine. Go ahead.'
And before Rythian could make sense of what he'd just heard, a streak of white hot pain opened up his chest, and darkness engulfed him once again.