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The Absolute rages. He screams until the ruined throat of his Phantom’s body is raw, pounds his fists against the door of the back of the truck until he can feel the warmth of blood beneath his gloves.
Ben’s tempted to attack the bomb that occupies the truck with them too, but he’s much too sore for that, and The Absolute still hopes that he will have the opportunity to reclaim the absalate from Matthias.
The light of day nearly blinds him when the door is heaved open. It had been so dark inside the trailer- metaphorically and literally.
There’s easily half a dozen police officers armed, their guns trained on the Phantom. He growls at them as one barks orders at him.
“Sir, step out of the Uhaul.”
Ben steps forward, The Absolute snarls and forces him back two paces. “No.”
The officers tighten their grips on their weapons, and his eyes narrow behind his mask.
"Benjamin Cobalt, you are under arrest for violation of privacy, for actions against respect for the deceased, for actions against public safety-"
Ben doesn't want to hear the list. Neither does The Absolute, it seems, for he screams to drown out the sound.
Several of the officers flinch away from him, trying to cover their ears and keep the muzzles of their pistols pointed at his chest.
“Step away from the Uhaul! This doesn’t need to get messy."
The Absolute slowly steps forward with a raspy growl, not unlike the one he had unintentionally revealed to Matthias in his internal battle with Benjamin. He stares the officers down, and revels in their obvious apprehension. His hard, weary eyes stab them like knives.
Ben raises his hands up, stepping around the side of the truck.
It’s only then that he hears the voices- when he sees Deb’s worker ants being herded away like sheep. He catches Matthias’s gaze, a silent vow- a promise of another meeting.
The Absolute’s voice is a cool, calm hiss. “This isn’t over.”
“Not for us.” Matthias replies, in a similar level-headed tone. “But it is for you.”
He snarls, lunges forward.
An officer tackles him to the ground, and he again wonders why he had chosen to go unarmed himself.
He’s heaved back to his feet once he stops struggling, but they don’t lead him away.
His brows furrow.
“Well?” The Absolute sneers. “Spare me the pleasantries.”
They tear his mask away from him.
He chokes as air, fresh and pure, blasts his nostrils. Everything goes dark. He can feel Life’s Blood leaking from his lips, leaking into his nose. No, no, no, no!
Ben panics.
The Absolute laughs- wheezes, really, since he also can’t breathe.
“Give it back!” Ben pleads, careless to how pathetic his voice sounds without the mask to strengthen it, blind and in pure agony without it. He coughs, clutches at his stomach as he doubles over slightly under the excruciating pain coursing through him. He reaches out with his other hand as the serum dribbles down his chin. “Please.”
“What’s wrong with him?” Someone wonders.
“It doesn’t matter, Jones- give the man his mask back before he dies on us.” Someone barks.
The familiar shape of the mask weighs down his palm, and he staggers back in his attempt to straighten up again. He holds the mask up to his face, presses it into the crook of his elbow so that he can use both hands to fasten his lifeline back to his head.
And, suddenly, his sight is back. And he can breathe again.
Humiliation at being reduced to begging rushes through him, but The Absolute’s anger shoves it aside with disregard as he glares through the officers.
“Leave it to me, Benjamin. There’s a reason I’m in charge.” He snarls.
Ben bows his head in submission.
The officers cuff him.