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When the dust settled, and the fires fizzled out, Mylo was certain that he was dead. It all happened so quickly. It wasn't very painful, thankfully, just scary. His head was all fuzzy, and he couldn’t remember much, except for Claggor. Dead next to him. Mylo wanted to scream, but he couldn't. He didn’t have the energy. He was tired and out of breath and his ears were ringing, and he just wanted death to him by his numb hands and lead him to the other side. This was it. The explosion killed him. He'd reached the end, and he was alright with that.
Then, there was a voice. Distant and faint. He almost didn’t hear it over the ringing in his ears, but it continued, and as the ringing died down and he could hear more clearly, Mylo realized they were calling his name. For a second, he thought it was his mother, here to bring him into the afterlife herself. He found himself smiling. Mylo didn’t remember his mom as much more than a withered corpse, but from what little he could recall of her in life, he knew she was lovely. Of course she would want to bring him to the otherside herself. But as the calls continued, growing more and more panicked, Mylo recognized the broken, panicked voice for who it really was.
"Claggor?"
It hurt his throat to speak, but he did so anyway, and somewhere in the distance he could hear a sob.
" Mylo !"
Every instinct in him was telling Mylo to shut down, to curl up here beneath the rubble and die, but hearing Claggor's voice ignited something in him, and all of a sudden, Mylo didn’t want to die anymore. Not while Claggor was still here. When he opened his eyes, dust fell into them and he hissed, moved his left arm to wipe it away and then the pain hit him. It tore through his shoulder and seared like nothing he'd ever experienced, and Mylo let out a shriek. Panic took hold, he was breathing too quickly and crying, terrified to move even an inch and feel that pain again. He could vaguely remember being impaled by something sharp, back before the ceiling collapsed, however many hours or minutes ago that was, so this must have been it.
He blinked the dust out of his eyes and tried to look again, but he could barely see anything. Orange light spilled in through the gaps and cracks in the concrete surrounding him, and in the shadows he could see something long and jagged poking out of his upper arm, confirming what he already knew. A hesitant right hand moved over and felt around, fingers closing around cold, wet metal that disappeared into his skin. Mylo tried to think of anything but what that wetness could be.
" Clag !"
He shouted into the darkness, again and again, without hearing a response. For a terrible moment, he wondered if he'd heard Claggor's voice in his head, and if he was just laying alone in the dark and debris with the body of his brother not far from his, waiting to die. It made a chill run down his spine, and as Mylo let out another sob, he heard something nearby, the sound of rubble falling not far off from him.
"Mylo!" Claggor shouted, and Mylo sobbed again, not from pain but from joy. He was real, he was there and he was okay, and for all Mylo knows Vi and Vander were too.
"Claggor!" He shouted like his life depended on it, which in a way, it did. There was no hope that Mylo could get out of here on his own, but Claggor would be able to dig him out easy-peasy, if he hurried.
"Mylo I-I can't, I can't see!" the other boy called back, and Mylo couldn’t quite figure out what that meant. The fuck did he mean he couldn’t see?! Mylo was trapped under a building, he was the one who couldn’t bloody see!
His mind tried to come up with the next best thing. Claggor was out, and if he couldn’t get him, then he could find people who could.
"G-Go! Get the fuck out of here and get help!"
"Mylo, I can't see!" Claggor repeated, and Mylo cursed him under his breath.
"You fucking dumbass, the second I'm out of here I'm gonna kill you!" he shouted. Squirming and wriggling around did nothing to help him escape, if anything, it just lodged him further beneath the rubble. Sharp concrete and wood jabbed at him from all sides, drawing gasps and shouts from him if he moved so much as an inch. "I-I'm stuck, Clag! Y-You gotta get me out of here! You hear me?!"
"Y-Yeah, I hear you," Claggor replied, meekly. He was getting closer, if the wet footsteps are any indication. Fuck waiting, Mylo thought, and began to search around with his uninjured hand for something to grab and pull at.
"O-Okay, okay..." He muttered. Something hit the rubble above him, pressing it down further onto him. He cried out in fear and it stopped quickly, and from the brief absences of light, and uneven footsteps just feet away from him, Mylo knew Claggor had found him, and for the first time ever, he found himself thanking Janna herself that he was here.
“Wh-Where are you?”
“I’m buried, you cock sucker! Start digging!” Mylo barked.
“Alright, alright!”
He tried to keep his eyes open, to search the cracks in the rubble for any sign of Claggor, but as the rubble above him began to shift it caused more dust to fall into Mylo’s eyes. Fuck, any more of this and he’d probably go blind.
Mylo’s rocky tomb seemed to be intact, and at no risk of falling in and crushing him, until something somewhere was moved wrong, and all of a sudden, a huge and heavy piece of concrete pressed down into Mylo’s chest, threatening to snap his bones clean in two.
" The top! Start at the top! Fuck! " he practically screamed, far too high and pathetic for his liking. Tears sprang into his eyes, mixing with the dust on his face and turning into stoney mush.
"I can't fucking see the top, Mylo!" Claggor snapped back. Mylo could barely breathe with the concrete pressing against his chest, but his throat spat up sobs regardless.
"Am… Am I gonna die?"
It was pathetic, utterly and completely pathetic, and if he were the one listening to someone whine about dying like this he’d probably mock them. Well, not anymore, now that he knew what if felt like. Dying. Almost dying. Being in a place that could kill you at any second.
He didn’t want to die. Not anymore, not while his family was still alive. He was in pain, such bad, bad pain but he could pull through if it meant seeing them all again.
"M-My, Mylo listen.” A large hand seized his own, and if he had the room to do so, Mylo would have jumped. His… his hand was out . His whole arm, from his shoulder down had been completely numb, but he could feel Claggor’s hand against his own. Safety was so much closer than he’d thought it was. "It's okay, w-we're gonna get out of here, you hear me?"
The rocks above him shifted again, pressing down along his throat and one of his legs, and as much as Mylo wanted to believe him, he couldn’t. He was panting in pure fear, bursts of agony hitting his bones every time his chest extended outward, into the piercing rocks against him.
“Clag I can’t, I-I can’t-”
“Mylo, listen. Just breathe, buddy, breathe. ”
“I-I can’t, Clag, i-it’s all dusty in here, and th-there’s, there’s-”
“ Breathe , Mylo. Don’t worry, I’m gonna get you out. I need you to stay calm, though, and not to move.”
That was sweet, coming from him, the one who didn’t have half a ton’s worth of concrete sitting on his chest right now. Mylo knew he was right, though. Panicking wasn’t going to get him out of here. So, against every natural instinct his body was feeding him, Mylo swallowed his fear and nodded. He wasn’t sure why, it’s not like Claggor could see him beneath the rubble, but he nodded anyway.
The rocks began to shift again, this time above him, and slowly, more and more of the orange-tinted world was revealed to him. Soon, he could make out smoke, and clouds, and even catch glimpses of Claggor’s meaty hands pulling at the concrete above him.
In response, Mylo began to move his uninjured arm, wiggling and shifting it as best as he could in the tight space. There was no way for him to pick at the debris holding him down, it was all too big and heavy, but he kept flexing it regardless, looking for any nooks or crannies to slip his fingers into and push away at the rock.
The more of the world that was revealed to him, the more Mylo felt like he could breathe. The huge slab of concrete laying on his ribs promptly reminded him not to.
“G-Get the big one off of me!” he snapped. Claggor’s diligent hands found the sides of the jagged piece of debris and heaved, and Mylo finally managed a full breath, and gulped down as much air as his lungs could handle. His vision was still rather blurry from the dust and tears, but the splatter of red along Claggor’s face was unmistakably blood.
His legs were still trapped, but his right arm was no longer pinned down by debris. Gritting his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut, Mylo forced himself to sit up, practically dragging his head and injured shoulder out from beneath what remained of the rubble. Knocks against the debris in his arm drew a hoarse scream from his throat, but did nothing to stop him from moving.
Mylo, who just minutes ago was ready to die, sat up again in the middle of the pile of concrete that threatened to kill him, and for a moment all he did was breathe. The air was thick with chemical scent and smoke, but he savored it like any moment now, he would be shoved back under the weight of all of the debris.
“Fuck,” he mumbled. He wanted to shout. Scream his lungs out. Just to let the world know that he’d made it, and he was still here, fighting like the street raised rat that he was. But there wasn’t enough energy left in him to do so, and he was too scared to stop breathing, just in case his air supply was cut off again.
The rocks beside him shifted again and Mylo flinched, expecting them to cave in on him once again, but relief flooded him when he realized it was just Claggor sitting down next to him. The other boy’s huge hand rested on his shoulder, and Mylo was quick to wrap an arm around him in return. They’d never so much as hugged each other before, as far as he could remember, but nearly dying seemed like a good occasion to start doing so.
“Fuck is right,” Claggor responded, and Mylo gave a weak nod. He raised his good arm and rubbed his wrist against his eyes to get the dust out, wanting to get a proper look at his surroundings. The second he locked eyes on the pipe sticking out of his shoulder, though, he regretted it.
“Oh, mother of Janna,” he muttered. He raised his other hand to brush against it, touch the blood dried into his shirt beneath the wound, and inspect whatever damage he could see.
Looking past it, his eyes locked onto the red mess that was Claggor’s face, and gasped. He didn’t see the eyes before now. Well, what was left of them. It was like nothing Mylo had ever seen. One eye was swollen shut completely, while the other had a large, disgusting slit right through it. Claggor looked like he was completely unaffected by it, though, and Mylo could only guess that he was in shock to not feel the pain from it.
“That bad?” the other boy asked. He frowned in worry. Tears streamed down Mylo’s cheeks as he rushed to think of an explanation, of a way to describe what Claggor couldn’t see, but he couldn’t. He didn’t want to.
Was that it, then? The end of Claggor being able to see? Was he blind now? Mylo was no doctor but he was certain an eye couldn’t recover from a cut like that. He could only pray that the other one wasn’t so bad, that it would maintain it’s vision. If Claggor went blind, then he wasn’t sure what they would do. He’d need help, so much help , help Mylo couldn’t give him. Living in the Undercity was bad enough when you had all of your functions, but being disabled, to the point of being fully blind was… scary. Mylo wasn’t even the one going blind, and he was scared. He could only hope Vander would help, that he knew something they could do, or at least knew how to take care of a blind person.
Vander. Vi. Fuck. They… They were around here too, weren’t they? Claggor was alright, meaning they were too! They had to be!
“Vander,” Mylo mumbled. Claggor kept a firm grip on his shoulder, but it didn’t stop him from swaying where he sat. “ Vander! Vi!”
He stood so quick that he fell over completely, having forgotten his legs were still buried beneath rubble. He managed to turn so that the pipe in his arm didn’t get driven any further in, but he still fell harshly against the ground, crying upon contact. Claggor was quick to stand up and assist him, but Mylo shooed him away and clambered to his feet. His right leg hurt like a bitch, but he limped on regardless, through the wreckage of the cannery. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, other than any sign of his father or sister. He must have been in shock too, then, too hyped up on adrenaline to stop and fully process the agony filling him, and for that he felt blessed.
Claggor tried to stop him, and in doing so, pressed against the pipe lodged in his arm.
“Gah! Fuck!” Mylo screamed. It took everything in him not to turn around and punch him in the face, and instead, he grabbed onto his upper arm to support it. Blood poured from the wound, and as he watched it, he felt lightheaded.
“My.” Claggor’s hand grabbed his shirt from behind. “Sit down.”
Mylo allowed himself to be pulled around, and obeyed Claggor when told to sit. He kept his gaze fixed on the wet and dirty ground as the other boy knelt in front of him. He didn’t want to see those… what was left of his eyes. It was awful. Without his sight, Claggor had no choice but to poke and prod at the pipe wound with his fingers, and every touch no matter how gentle drew a his or cry from Mylo.
“It’s keeping you from bleeding out,” he concluded, and Mylo breathed a sigh of relief when he finally pulled away.
“Meaning we shouldn’t pull it ou..t?”
“Exactly.”
Mylo nodded drearily, and looked up, managing to smile weakly. “I can do that...”
He knew Claggor couldn’t see him, but he could hear the slight lilt in Mylo’s voice, and he smiled too. Paired with the blood and grime and the grisly sight of his eyeballs, it was unusual to look at, but it comforted Mylo nonetheless.
He led Claggor through the wreckage, guiding him around the debris and what was left of the fire, and in return, Claggor allowed Mylo to lean against him for support. Thank the Gods for that. Mylo was pretty sure his left leg was broken, if not, it was sprained at the very least. Everything ached and burned, but his leg and shoulder seethed with pain, sparking it up his bones every time he put his weight on his leg or shifted his injured shoulder in any way.
He managed to find a staircase stable enough for them to get down. Neither of them could scale down a wall in this state. There was no sign of their father or sister on the upper floor, and Mylo had yet to hear either of them, which was worrying. Surely if they were awake then they’d be screaming at the top of their lungs to find the two boys.
Thankfully, Mylo didn’t have to wonder why they were quiet for very long. He and Claggor turned a corner on their way out of the wrecked cannery, and that’s when they finally found him. Mylo didn’t recognize him at first. Honestly, he thought it was the monster that was unleashed on them by the bastard that kidnapped Vander in the first place. It was gray and purple, just like that hyped-up junkie they’d watched transform into a purple and gray beast, but this body was bigger and bulkier. Too much to be the same person.
Mylo knew it was Vander before he truly saw him. A sickly feeling grew in the pit of his stomach as he shucked off Claggor’s arm and took shakey, uneven steps down the alleyway to inspect the body. He tried to tell himself
It was Vander. It was his dad, the man who had treated him like he was own before Mylo even knew his own name, was lying cold and dead on the ruined pavement. His body twisted and mutated beyond recognition. All of a sudden, Mylo couldn’t breathe. It was just like being under all that debris again, except this time he was out in the open, and the world was crashing in on him.
Falling onto his knees caused pain to radiate up his left side, but Mylo couldn’t bring himself to give a shit. He wanted to reach out and touch him, shake Vander’s shoulder and shout at him to get up, to shake whatever had happened to him off just like he always did. He wasn’t dead, he couldn’t be, he was just knocked out! He had to be! What was there in the world that could kill Vander? Mylo sure as hell didn’t know.
“My?” Claggor was so close that it caught him off guard. Even without his sight, he’d managed to follow Mylo, and was now setting his huge hand on Mylo’s uninjured shoulder. “What is it?”
Mylo didn’t know what to say. Vander was going to stir any moment and make him feel like a dumbass for even thinking he was dead. But moments passed, and their father didn’t so much as flinch. Claggor lowered himself to the ground so he was kneeling alongside Mylo, not taking his hand off of him for even a second.
“It’s… It’s Vander, isn’t it?”
When Mylo opened his mouth to speak, all that came out were sobs. Claggor pulled him close again, wary of the pipe still lodged in his shoulder, and hugged him in the best way he could. Mylo’s good hand grabbed ahold of his shirt and his face pressed into his shoulder as he continued to cry.
Gods, how long had it been since he’d cried? It must have been years. When his mom died, when he was… fuck, he didn’t even remember how old he’d been. No older than a toddler. Well, he’d cried a few years ago, when he slipped off of the roof of the tavern and broke his arm, but that was understandable. That wasn’t wimpy and pathetic, he’d been in real, actual pain.
He wanted to shut himself up, to stop crying and get ahold of himself. He was crying like a little fucking girl and over what? Over his dead dad? He was nearly a grown up for Janna’s sake and he was tearing up over this? People went through worse everyday.
But he couldn’t stop himself. No matter how hard he tried, how many deep breaths he took just as Claggor instructed him, he couldn’t stop his cries. Who knew how long they sat there, Claggor holding him, whispering to him and rocking him back and forth, like he was a fucking child. Mylo was a child. He was only sixteen. He didn’t know how he would get by in this fucked up world without his dad there to help him.
He was almost certain that Claggor was crying too, though not nearly as loud as himself. Mylo guessed it was a lot easier to handle when he didn’t have to see Vander’s body, mangled and fucked up like it was.
He was gone. The closest thing Mylo had had since his real mother died wasn’t here anymore, and with Claggor injured like he was, Mylo felt lost. He wasn’t caring, he wasn’t a leader, he couldn’t protect anyone. All the things that he knew Vander would have told him to do. He wasn’t Vi, all Mylo was good for was picking locks and stealing and -
“Vi…” It came out as a choked sob, the first thing he’d said in minutes. Through his tears, he saw Claggor’s head tilt at his voice, and Mylo’s grip on his shirt tightened. “We… We have to find Vi.”
With some effort, the boy began to push himself to his unsteady feet, purposefully looking at everything but the body before him. Seeing Vander again would just make it all the more real. If he could go on thinking that it wasn’t, just for a few more minutes until he could find Vi and have her tell him what to do, then Mylo would be happy.
Claggor rose to his feet with him. Mylo pulled away from him, but his brother’s hand stayed on his shoulder.
“No time, you need a doctor -”
Mylo shucked his hand off again and turned away, walking in the opposite direction of their father’s body. His pace was pitifully slow, he was practically dragging his injured leg along the ground, his shoulder was in agony and he was fairly certain it had started gushing blood again. He didn’t care. He couldn’t care. Not until he found -
Something hit against his dragging foot, nearly tripping him up entirely, and Mylo barely managed to save himself from falling. Stumbling back to his feet, he glanced over his shoulder, and the sight of a small metal shell decorated with neon colors confused him. It was familiar, somehow, but he wasn’t sure from where. His mind was so hazy that it took him a minute to place it, but when he finally did, he felt his blood run ice cold.
It was Powder’s.
With a shaking hand, Mylo picked it up and held it up to the light cast by one of the great fires, still burning just a few feet away from him. It looked like the head of an angry monkey, andhe recognized it from one of the bombs his little sister had been working on in recent weeks.
It was Powder’s. What was one of Powder’s bombs doing here? She was at home, Vi didn’t bring any of her weapons, how did it get here? Could Claggor have brought it? Did Vander have it on him when he’d been kidnapped? Had Mylo stolen it from her several weeks ago and hidden it in his bag and just brought it along without realizing?
Someone must have brought it with them somehow, because if they didn’t, then that meant Powder was here. That she had set off this little toy bomb of hers. That she had done all of this. Mylo didn’t want to think of that. Powder wasn’t capable of that. She was barely capable of looking after herself, how could she have caused all of this destruction?
“Powder…” Mylo muttered. He found himself gripping the stupid bit of painted metal like it was a lifeline, and for the first time in his life, wished his little sister was in his arms. He was confused and scared and he just wanted her near him, safe and unharmed unlike the rest of their family.
Looking up again, Mylo’s eyes scanned the rubble around him for any immediate signs of a body. Of either of his sister’s. And he found nothing. Thank the Gods. If he caught sight of Powder’s little body, then Mylo knew he would have been broken beyond repair.
He still had to find Vi. She must have walked away, she must have. She was Vi. Almost as strong and indestructible as Vander. It was why she was always his favorite.
Surely, if the explosion took out Vander, then it took her too. Maybe Mylo and Claggor had just gotten lucky. Mylo hoped that wasn’t the case, he desperately hoped that wasn’t the case. He and Vi couldn’t stand each other, but he couldn’t handle it if she died too. If he lost his father and his sister in the same night.
Then, he realized just how powerful he was. He’d never been powerful. Probably never would be again. But right now, he held the power to completely destroy Claggor’s world, right in the palm of his hand. Never in his life had Mylo been responsible, but right now, he was responsible for telling Claggor the single worst piece of news that he’d ever hear. That Powder did this. That their little sister killed their father, and possibly their other sister too.
Was it fair to blame her when she wasn’t even here? Mylo didn’t think so. He didn’t want to blame her, but he couldn’t see Vi doing this. She wasn’t that stupid, she knew how unstable Powder’s bombs were. Regardless, it was still Powder’s creation. Something she had put together with her own hands, filled with love. Something that wound up killing Vander.
Claggor couldn’t see what he was holding. He’d probably never see again, Mylo had to remind himself, but he could picture the look of horror that would cross the other boy’s face as he broke the news to him. Shock at first. The confusion. Then utter and complete sorrow. Claggor used to look at Powder like she was a precious gem, a little scrap of innocence in the dark dank gutters of the Undercity that he had to protect and look after, and the thought of taking that from him, that mental image he held of their little sister as innocent, pure, good at heart, it broke Mylo.
He couldn’t do it. He just couldn’t. Right now, Mylo held an unbelievable amount of power over his brother, and he chose not to use it.
His good hand shook violently as he held onto the head of Powder’s monkey bomb, and he trudged back over to Claggor, who hadn’t moved so much of an inch from where he kneeled next to Vander’s body. He was looking down at their father despite being unable to see him. Tears cut through the muck and blood on his face.
As he opened up his mouth to speak, Mylo was convinced his lips would betray him for a moment.
“C-Clag, come on. We gotta go.”
Nothing. Claggor still didn’t know the truth.
He reached out, forgetting for a moment that he was still holding the head from his sister’s bomb, before he slipped it into his pocket and used his good hand to pat his brother’s shoulder. Claggor’s head turned in his direction but didn’t raise to look directly at him. It was more than a bit jarring to look at, but Mylo supposed it was better than looking into ruined eyes that weren’t looking back.
“What about Vi..?” Claggor asked.
“We looked, man, and she’s… she’s gone. She’ll find us. If she got out then… then she’ll find us…”
Again, nothing. Claggor still didn’t know the truth. Every second Mylo kept it from him, he was holding onto this power over Claggor, and he dreaded it. It weighed him down and made him feel like a monster, keeping him in the dark like this. Pulling the wool over Claggor’s blind eyes. But it was either this, keep him innocent and loving just as Claggor wished to keep Powder, or tell him the truth and watch every last love of scrap that he held for their sister dry up.
Mylo couldn’t do it. He just couldn’t.
“You don’t know that,” Claggor replied.
“Like hell I don’t.” Mylo slipped his good hand under Claggor’s arm and pulled on him. It was no use actually trying to pull a huge guy like him up, but it was enough to convince the other boy to start clambering to his feet. “Come on.”
Claggor’s hand stayed firmly wrapped around Mylo’s wrist as he led him out of the wreckage surrounding the waterfront warehouse where their lives had gone so very wrong. They walked by piles of rubble, wood and metal scrap, and as they did, Mylo wondered if Vi was under any of them. He wanted to know, wanted to drop Claggor’s arm and begin pulling at the piles in a desperate search to find the sister he’d argued with a thousand times before tonight.
But the truth was, he didn’t want to find her. He wanted to leave here, go home and have her turn up in a day or two, bruised and cut up and swearing up a storm at him for leaving her behind. At least then she’d be alive. If Mylo started searching for her again now, then he’d only find her body. He didn’t want that. Didn’t want to tell Claggor and Powder they’d lost another family member, didn’t want to deal with having to be the only one out of them to have to see their bodies. His dad was enough. He couldn’t deal with his sister too.
So, he held out hope that Vi, being the stubborn bitch she was, would escape and come home within a few days. Even as a terrible sinking feeling filled his stomach, worse than almost any one he’d ever had.
The only thing worse was knowing what he would have to say to Powder when they went home to her. That her father and sister were gone, and it was because of her own weapon. Her stupid, childish little bombs that she treated like toys half of the fucking time. It’s no wonder it wound up in the sack with their weapons when she treated them so carelessly.
It wasn’t her fault. Mylo went back and forth between being mad at her in his head, and almost crying for her. If she was even still alive. There was a chance she’d come here too, being the stupid little kid she was, she could have ignored Vi telling her to stay behind and followed them. She could be lying dead under the very pile of rubble Mylo led Claggor past.
Mylo almost wished he knew for certain that she was. Just so he could know he’d never have to confront the truth about what she’d done. That he could keep to himself, bottle it up inside and let it destroy him.
Mylo and Claggor died, in a way. The boys they used to be perished when that explosion went off and the ceiling caved in on them, and they were stumbling back to the Undercity as completely different people. Claggor would probably never see again, and Mylo doubted he’d be keeping his left arm. At the moment, though, he couldn’t care less about that. Claggor couldn't see, Vi might not be coming back to them, and hearing that she'd done this would break Powder.
He had no idea what they were going home to, what sort of life he was leading his brother back to, and that above all else is what ate Mylo alive.