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People on the Space Station tend to stick to a routine.
It’s not something you’d notice unless you’re paying attention, but once you see it you can’t unsee it.
The researchers always go to the same space to do their research, even if what they’re researching has changed.
They will always eat at roughly the same time, tailoring their schedule so they can get their meals at the exact same time.
Asta always sends the work schedule for next month out the Sunday before the first week of said month.
She always does the required paperwork for the station at the exact same time every day.
She always goes to spend time with Peppy and Arlan once she is done with the piles of paperwork.
Herta’s dolls always stand in the same places when they’re not fulfilling orders from the Herta.
Arlan always does his patrols in the exact same way, starting from Herta’s office, making his way down to the secluded zone, then returning back to Herta’s office.
He always goes to play Holodisk with Peppy after he finishes one patrol.
He is never outside of his room thirty minutes after his designated wake-up time or before his designated lights-out time.
And nobody knows why.
You can always find out why anyone on the Station has their routine.
The researchers always use the same spaces because it’s easier to access their logs from there.
Asta always visits Arlan to lift her spirits finishing up slogs of paperwork, and to help lift his after a long day’s patrol.
The Herta dolls are programmed to be there.
Nobody knows why Arlan doesn’t leave his room at those times.
If you ask him, he always manages to brush it to the side.
And nobody or thing can get him out before that time is up.
Well, almost nothing…
Arlan wove a thick bandage around the base of his forearm slowly.
He had most of his uniform on already, he just needed to cover his right arm. Then it was time for his patrol. But he needed to focus on this as of now.
One loop, then tighten.
Another loop, tighten it, check the first loop for looseness. No looseness.
Another loop, tighten it, check previous loops for looseness.
The first one came loose, must tighten it. Mustn’t let them see-
The emergency intercom on Arlan’s ceiling echoed Asta’s voice out, a little too loudly for comfort. This caused him to drop the bandages, completely undoing the wrap on his right arm.
“Arlan, Antimatter Legion survivors have broken into the hangar bay of the Supply Zone! The-”
Asta’s voice quieted down as she answered a call from her personal communicator.
“They have a Trampler, repeat, a Trampler, we need you there now!”
Arlan cursed internally, and shoved his hand into his gauntlet, unwrapped.
Normally he would never risk going out with his secret at such a risk of exposure, but the rest of the security team simply could not handle a Trampler. They’d be slaughtered by the time he got there if he did his wraps properly today, so he was left with no choice.
He grabbed his greatsword, shoved his right sleeve down, dashed through the door to his room while barely remembering to grab his ID, and rushed forward.
He blitzed out of the staff hallway and into the Base Zone, narrowly avoiding running into several researchers.
He ran into the current battleground of the station’s spacedock, where antimatter legion and station security clashed in front of the large window to outer space.
About eight security team members were scattered about, split into pairs of two that were taking on Legion Voidrangers. Each pair had one wielding an IPC staff, and another team member with some ranged armament. Arlan barely noticed them, as he instantly locked onto the giant spiky centaur about to crush two security members underneath its spiked limbs.
He needed to move, faster.
Arlan felt electrons burst through his legs, searing his muscles, but the pain didn’t matter as he leaped off of the floor, creating a small crater where he once stood as he swung his greatsword into the artificial centaur from the side, sending it tumbling backwards.
Arlan landed like a feral dog with his greatsword plummeting into the ground before ripping it out of the earth, standing up, and holding it at chest level whilst pointing it at the Trampler.
The trampler moved in a timeless blur and returned to its feet.
It hissed in its freakishly otherworldly language, untranslated by the Synesthesia Beacons of the security team members at Arlan, the words causing his right hand to burn a little, and smoke to rise from his gauntlet.
The security team members thanked Arlan and ran away from the Trampler.
It roared angrily in its untranslated tongue as it pulled a bow of pure quantum power out, but Arlan understood exactly what it meant.
Traitor.
The words caused memories to surge in Arlan’s mind, but adrenaline pushed them back down.
He had a fight to win. For the space station.
For Peppy.
For Asta.
And as it roared, the Voidrangers stopped their assault on the station staff and rushed towards Arlan, the gauntlet on his right hand releasing smoke.
The Voidrangers couldn’t even get close to Arlan before he had launched himself at the Trampler, which was knocking an arrow into its bow.
Arlan swung his greatsword into the stomach of the trampler, sending it stumbling to the side and causing its bow to dissipate.
A Voidranger managed to reach Arlan, but as it brought its swords up to slice him in half, Arlan grabbed the head of the Legion beast, let electricity surge through and sear his palm before crushing its head in his gloved hand, then he once more began rushing down the Trampler, the Voidranger’s body consuming itself.
The Trampler reared up and brought its legs down upon Arlan, who impaled the creature’s lower chest on his greatsword as it came down, causing it to quantum tunnel away before it could crush Arlan. The remaining Voidrangers encroached, two getting shot down by security, their bodies consuming themselves in black holes that fizzled out instantly.
The trampler pulled out its quantum bow with an arrow already knocked in it, but as it went to fire, Arlan leaped over the thing and grabbed its horns. He then felt electricity sear his arms, but didn’t feel it sear his right sleeve as he pulled the creature over his head and slammed it onto the floor.
He then turned around, with the Tramplers horns still in-hand, and as more electrons surged and seared and strengthened him, then threw the creature into the encroaching Voidrangers as its horns broke in Arlan’s grasp.
The Voidrangers were crushed by their Centaur commander, their bodies consuming themselves in swift flashes as the Trampler was sent flying back into the energy shielding that acted as safety railing, nearly breaking through the barrier.
Pieces of its spiked armor flew off of the Trampler as it landed against the railing, its right front leg bending in an unnatural way.
It quantum tunneled into a standing position once again, as its damage leg was shot in twain by a security member.
It glared at the member that just shot it, but Arlan was already here, electricity arcing across his arms as he leaped up and slammed his greatsword into the middle of the Trampler, slicing it clean in two.
Its body consumed itself, creating two tiny singularities that instantly fizzled out.
Arlan picked up his sword and placed it on his back, unawares of how his right sleeve and gauntlet were currently nothing more than scraps on the ground from his self-electrocution.
The security team members approached Arlan as he walked towards them.
As they approach, they saw Arlan’s currently exposed right arm and hand. It was coated in mostly old scars, with a few more recent ones.
A lot of them were clearly lighting scars, and on his hand was a wound colored gold. Probably another scar, they reasoned.
“Are there any casualties? Any injuries?” Arlan asked as they stopped at a normal talking distance from each other.
“No casualties on our side, Brother Arlan.” One of the security staff said.
“All thanks to Jarred’s keen eye. And your strength as well.” Another one chimed in.
“Yup. And none of us have any critical injuries to report.” The original team member replied.
“Still, check in with the medical department. It’s important to remain in top shape to keep this station as safe as possible. I’ll go and file the reports on this myself while you get checked up,” Arlan replied in a very professional manner, unaware of the slowly bleeding golden wound on his hand.
“You sure about that boss? Looks like they got you pretty badly on your right side,” a security team member chimed in from the back.
“Oh, yeah, that’s bleeding as well. We can’t have Brother Arlan’s strength stunted by a hand injury.” Another one responded as a droplet of the golden substance on Arlan’s hand wound fell to the floor, sizzling almost mutely.
Arlan raised an eyebrow in confusion, unawares of his right side.
“I’m fine. They didn’t even hit me on my right side, I’ll be able to-”
Arlan unconsciously raised his hand as he spoke, and then he saw it.
His mark, exposed.
The blood of Nanook, dripping from it.
Arlan went silent.
The world went silent.
They had seen his mark, the mark of the Antimatter Legion,
The mark of the world-cleanser.
They were going to hate him, despise him, throw him back on those streets, they were going to kill him, because they know, but he can’t kill them he can’t kill another human he can’t
The security team members watched as Arlan froze and his breathing intensified.
“Brother Arlan? Are… you ok?”
One of them asked, gently approaching the hyperventilating young man.
Arlan couldn’t hear them.
He could barely see, his every instinct screaming at him to run.
And so he did.
Electricity seared through his muscles as he shoved everyone out of his way.
He didn’t even notice his greatsword falling off of his back.
The screams of surprise he barely heard over his fear only intensified his reaction.
Memories surged as he ran, his body moving on pure instinct.
Training until bones broke.
Fighting to the near death.
Scorned every day for his weakness.
The destruction.
The Destruction.
The screams.
His screams.
As the blood pooled upon his hand.
Marked, to cleanse worlds.
Unbearable stress, pain.
He couldn’t take it anymore.
He needed to get out, he had to get out, he had to escape, HE NEEDED ESCAPE, GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OUT GET OUT OUT OUT
Arlan stumbled as he continued dashing on, his hyperventilating causing him to lack the required oxygen to run properly, but he couldn’t care.
His instincts screamed two things: danger, and run.
And he could only listen as he rushed through the halls of the Space Station, finding a room, and then sealing himself in it and hiding in the corner.
Thoughts, fears, and traumas swirled in his head as sat there, overwhelming him entirely.
He could barely breathe, he felt like he was going to vomit, his heart ached, why wasn’t he safe, why hadn’t he escaped?
The door swooshed open, Arlan cowered back and held the back of his right hand at the sound, and then Asta entered, looking worried.
She looked around the room and spotted Arlan in the corner, and quickly figured out that he was having some form of anxiety attack.
She knelt down and made a peace sign.
“Arlan, how many fingers am I holding up?” She asked, as gently and calmly as possible.”
Arlan looked at her, then her hand. He focused as best he could with all his emotions and oxygen deprivation.
“T-two,” he mustered up the focus to say.
“Alright, that’s good,” Asta said, before reaching her hand slowly out and seeing if Arlan tried to flinch away.
“Arlan, it’s going to be ok,” she said as she placed her hand on his gently once she saw that he didn’t flinch from her.
“Nothing on this station can get us here,” she said, “We’re safe.”
Arlan’s breathing slowed. The memories and anxiety still relentlessly filled his mind, but clarity filtered them from his judgement.
As his clarity returned, he realized he had ended up in Asta’s room. He’d been here before, but this time he had barged in without permission. Anxiety began to resurge as he started to stand.
“L-lady Asta, I’m so sorry for breaking into your room, I’ll be l-”
Arlan was interrupted by Asta gently pulling him back down.
“It’s fine, Arlan. We can leave if you want, but don’t worry about it, ok?” She gently asked, “You weren’t thinking straight, and that’s ok. There’s no need to worry about it.”
Arlan sat there, a few tears falling down his eyes. “Thank you, La- Asta.”
Half a minute passed in quietude, as the anxiety drained from Arlan’s mind.
“Is there anything you need?” Asked Asta.
Arlan shook his head, “Just a little longer to calm down.”
Asta nodded and stayed there, gently holding his hands to comfort him.
Soon enough, Arlan began to stand up as he gently took his hands out of Asta’s grasp.
Asta stood up a second later.
“Do you want to talk about what happened?” She asked.
Arlan sighed. He didn’t really want to, but he knew how persistent Asta could be. And others had already seen it, so she was bound to find out. Can’t hide it any longer.
“It’s… it was after the fight. The security staff saw one of my scars… the one on the back of my hand,” Arlan admitted reluctantly.
“Why is this scar so important?” Asta asked with genuine empathy, “And don’t worry, I’m not going to judge you.”
Arlan’s grip on his right hand tightened.
“Promise?” He asked.
“I swear it on Nous, Arlan.”
Arlan breathed in and out slowly, preparing himself to say his best-kept secret at last.
“It’s a brand. The Legion’s brand. Formed from Nanook’s blood.”
Arlan saw as Asta’s face turned from curiosity to shock, raising her hands to her mouth.
He instantly assumed the worst. Asta now hated him for this. He braced for the pain of emotions, a pain he couldn’t bear.
Instead, he felt arms wrap around him gently.
“I am so sorry you had that forced on you, Arlan,” Asta said, before letting go of her hug.
“How did you escape from the Legion?” She asked.
“Y- you… You’re not…” Arlan stammered out in confusion, having expected everything but empathy.
“Of course I’m not upset with you, silly! Why would I be upset at you for having something forced upon you against your will? You’ve done so much for me and this station, why would a scar from your childhood cause me to hate you?”
“I… Thank you, Lady Asta,” Arlan said, tears running down his face. “May I… hug you?”
Asta didn’t even respond verbally, she just hugged him. And Arlan hugged her back.
“Ok, but seriously, how did you escape the Legion?” Asta asked as they broke up their hug.
“I stowed away on an IPC ship that had landed on the planet. And then, I met you,” Arlan explained.
Asta continued to prod Arlan for more information in a sisterly manner, with the two of them eventually leaving Asta’s room after talking enough, returning to their usual routines.
Asta managed to arrange a meeting with the security staff that had fought alongside Arlan, and with Arlan explained what had happened.
Unfortunately, rumors had already started to spread throughout the station, but Asta could always rely on a certain grey-haired trailblazer to help out with that.