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Ever since the escape, things have been… better.
For one, they're free. Legend knows that's the biggest thing. Soemtimes, he still wakes up surprised to be in a soft bed. For two, it's everyone who's free—not just the nine boys, but those from the older facility, too. Photos of faces both old and new fill up the contacts list of Legend’s phone. He can, and has, texted random people at all hours of the night just to make sure they're still alive. He recieves texts and calls like that, too.
For three, although the court proceedings are stretching on, Legend and those he loves have won both money and (somewhat unhappily) fame from the whole thing. The law is on their side this time, thanks partially to the princess’s efforts.
Legend is glad that some part of their suffering is metamorphosing into something unequivocally good, and equally glad that the princess herself is the overseer of this particular kingdom-run facility. He'd arrived with Time, Sky, Warriors, and his three siblings (and several guards) to meet with Wild and Flora and the omnipresent Champions to take a tour and discuss the future. Hyrule had elected to stay home, and nobody else was available, or wanted to come.
At some point, Legend had slipped away from the group to catch some distance, and thus much-needed mental silence. He's practiced some techniques for keeping others’ voices out of his head, but he still doesn't really like large groups of people. He trusts his family, both sides of it, but all the workers and employees running around? It's loud.
Right now, Legend wanders around a disused section of the new building. It still smells like paint and sawdust, unfamiliar but nice. He peeks into empty, sunny offices and labs being set up and one particularly large room with boxed-up exercise equipment waiting to be assembled and arranged.
Legend, for now, is the only one inside of his head. It's relieving.
The phone inside his pants pocket buzzes once, shortly. He pauses between an elevator and a window that looks out over the nearby park to answer. The short buzz means a text. He's still getting used to using the technology, but he has enough of the hang of it to communicate.
This one is from Sky: Back on the first floor by that weird stained glass painting, about to be introduced to the head doctor. Last thing we're doing.
Ah, Legend remembers that spot. If he's right, the elevator he's next to will take him more or less right there.
He answers: On my way.
He almost doesn't press the elevator call button when he sees that the car already in use, but he shakes his head at himself and presses it anyway. He can deal with people in an elevator, and who knows if there's anyone in there anyway? It's a public space.
The digital number above the doors ticks down. As far as Legend knows, this building is about twelve floors tall—significant, but still rather small compared to some of the other buildings in this city. He's glad that the house his family owns, the one he’s been living in, is a distance away; he thinks that living here in the center of it all would give him claustrophobia.
He's on the tenth floor, so he doesn't have to wait long. The elevator dings its arrival, and the doors slide open to reveal a fluorescent-lit interior.
And one other person.
One other silent person.
Legend has met previous few silent people in his life. Only one, as a matter of fact. His mouth goes dry, and he feels his head spin as blood rushes.
Lights above his face, pain, stinging gel, bruises on his wrists where he was held down.
He belatedly remembers to breathe.
The large man smiles at Legend and puts his arm out to keep the elevator doors open. “Are you going to get in?”
…This man looks entirely different. Tanner, smiling, bald. Nothing about him feels kind, exactly, but he doesn't… seem to be a threat.
Legend is overreacting. He swallows and doesn't respond verbally, though he nods once. He tightens his grip on his mind almost to a painful degree. He doesn't look directly at the man when he steps into the elevator.
The doors close, and the elevator moves smoothly down. It smells new in here, too.
Is it just Legend, or is this a slow elevator? The walls of it are dark wood, and there's blue carpet, like most of the rest of the building. In fact—
“L-BN3,” the man says quietly. “I’m happy to see you thriving.”
And everything in Legend’s head comes to a screeching halt. It's actually him it's him it's—how—
What actually comes out of Legend’s mouth is different. A denial. “Cymatial was dismantled. Assets liquidized.”
Dr. Anim laughs, heartily. “Did you think I was part of that sinking ship? Contracted with them, perhaps, but I know how to hedge my bets. It's paid off, don't you think? I even received part of the settlement money.”
He got some of the settlement money? Legend thinks in dismay. That was meant to help some of the employees, the ones whom Cymatial had taken advantage of and harmed. This man did not qualify.
“And now you're the head of this facility,” Legend finishes. He still can't look directly at the other man in the elevator.
“I am,” Dr. Anim says.
“I thought they weren't hiring any previous Cymatial employees.”
Dr. Anim holds up a finger. “Ah, but I was just a contractor. It never came up. You know, L-BN3”—Legend wanted to throw up at the sound of his designation, but he held his tongue—“I have had one singular, glorious vision in all my life. I will go down in history as the man who invented magic.”
“You didn't even do anything,” Legend accuses. He curls his hands inside the pockets of his blazer jacket to hide the way they shake. He can't believe this is happening. He'd almost believed he was free, but this—
“Everything that happened in either building was taken directly from my notes, freely given or the ones that Cymatial stole from me. I hate them just as much as you do.”
A hot spike of fury and disgust stabs Legend through the heart. He turns to Dr. Anim and snarls. “You have no idea—”
“On the contrary, boy,” Dr. Anim interrupts, going deadly serious. He sets his hand in his pocket casually. “All of this is my work, taken from me. I was the one to unlock the secrets of editing. The one to identify your genetic profile. I did it all. I know exactly what happened to you. I know exactly where those idiots went wrong with that girl who died.”
Legend can't hear the elevator beeping as it passes floors anymore. Blood rushes through his head. He's distantly aware of his phone buzzing again, in a long pattern that indicates a call instead of of a text.
He ignores it all, not necessarily because he wants to.
Marin.
Legend spits his words. “You have to know I'm not going to let this rest. I'm going to report you. You won't work here.” You won't hurt anyone else.
Dr. Anim pulls something from his pocket, his short fingers caressing the buttons. “I'm afraid I still have some secrets.”
Legend doesn't recognize the device. He doesn't know what this is, but it can't be anything good. He lunges, aiming a blow at Dr. Anim’s wrist, but he's too slow.
Dr. Anim presses one of the buttons.
A high-pitched roar fills Legend’s head, a supernova localized entirely inside his messed-up brain. As if a bullet had hit him, he feels himself collapse, caught from hitting the ground by warm hands. He knows that the noise in his head is just in his head, but it drowns out the elevator’s ping and the subsequent cries of alarm outside.
The roar dies down slowly, to the point that Legend can make out Sky’s voice specifically, but then another explosion goes off, and it all dissolves again. Legend can't think, much less speak to warn anyone. If this is happening to him, is it happening to anyone else? Could it?
It happens twice more: a violent mental sound rocks Legend’s world, shutting out every other sensation. Maybe it's more than twice. He can't remember numbers right now.
He floats in a sky full of sparks.
When the last explosion fades—he hopes it's the last one—the world trickles back in. He doesn't recognize it at first: warm and dim light; a rough texture beneath his head, scratching his hands, and poking through his socks; the smell of… grass.
He's outside.
Legend feels wrung out, not unlike the aftermath of a panic attack. His heart beats quickly, and it's clear that tears had squeezed from his eyes sometimes in the last… however long. He rubs at his face, scowling, knowing that once again he'd been involuntarily vulnerable.
Anyway, why is he outside? He doesn't recognize this yard, and the group of people he can hear inside his aching head is rather eclectic. His siblings don't normally come along when he visits Time or Wind or whoever, and whenever one of the Champions is around, so is the princess, and very possibly a Sheik. Where is he…?
Legend sits up too fast. His aching head spins, and his vision darkens for just a moment, but luckily someone notices and shoos people far enough away that their thoughts fade from Legend’s head. The near-silence is welcome. He breathes in a steady rhythm and squints out at Warriors, who crouches nearby.
“What happened?” And where am I?
Warriors is fairly practiced at keeping his mind shielded, so Legend can't detect anything specific from him, just some quick thinking and the impression of chaos. “A lot. You don't know where we are?”
Oh, right, Warriors can hear him, too.
“I can, yeah, a little more than usual right now. What's the last thing you remember?”
Legend glances around a bit as he casts his memory back. They're on a small grassy yard beneath a tree, just outside a large, sparkling office building and a deep black parking lot. Two police cars are parked nearby, along with the old van that Time drives, and Hilda’s sleek black car. Several officers speak to the group of friends and family that found another patch of shade to linger in, a few dozen yards away.
“This morning,” Legend answers. “I got dressed to go somewhere. We got into Hilda’s car, and…” Things stop there.
“This is the new building for continuing gene editing research,” Warriors says without further prompting, gesturing. “Flora was giving some of us a tour before it really opens. You wandered away from the group, and when Sky texted you to come down, you found an elevator.”
“Right…” Legend sort of remembers that part as Warriors says it. “I was up on the tenth floor?”
Warriors shrugs. “No clue. But there was a man in the elevator with you, the head doctor of this place, apparently, and when you both got down to where we were, you collapsed.”
“I passed out?” Legend frowns.
“Not exactly, no.” From Warriors’s head, Legend gets an impression of himself, collapsed in pain, insensate and crying. It isn't exactly a flattering picture.
Legend winces, and Warriors continues.
“We were already worried about you, because Revali was watching you on the security cameras and told Sky that you’d hesitated before getting into the elevator with that man. You didn't answer your phone when we called. The guy acted a little skeevy, to me anyway, and we really didn't like it when he suggested that we get you to one of the labs, because he had an idea to help.”
“That's… gross.”
Warriors nods. “Our thoughts exactly. You seemed to hurt more when he insisted, so I had my friend Fi do a bit of quick digging. She's good at what she does, and she found what Urbosa and Sheik didn't in their background check. Lo and behold, guess who worked for Cymatial when you were abducted?”
Legend still doesn't remember what happened, but the pieces slide into place. “Dr. Anim.”
“Bingo. He was going by Dr. Aggie here, and had a pretty airtight fake identity. We called law enforcement, and he's on his way to jail to await trial right now.” Warriors pulls a small device from his pocket and gingerly holds it up. “We found this on him, and saw him use it. We think it's what caused your reaction, somehow.”
Through Warriors’s leaked thoughts, Legend gets a sense of how angry he'd been at the discovery. With a sharp inhale, Legend snatches the device and examines it: the size of two fingers, it has several buttons, along with an adjustment wheel and a little LED indicator.
“He used this on me before,” Legend realizes. “Not with you. Before-before. He pulled me sometimes when I was younger, and I often forgot what happened afterwards.”
Warriors nods. “Fable did say that your behavior looked familiar to her. Just one more reason we were suspicious.”
“He's gone, though?” Legend looks up, careful not to touch any buttons or the wheel.
“Same place as every other executive from Cymatial. He didn't have time to hide anything, so we're going to go raid his offices and notes to figure things out. It means more court dates, probably.”
“He does know what he's doing,” Legend says reluctantly. “I think he started all of this. The way he did edits was brutal, but it worked.”
“Then the good guys will learn a lot from him.” Warriors glances over at the group. “You up for people? I think a couple of us are worried about you.”
Legend follows his gaze to sort of catch Wild’s eye, and Ravio waves. Despite the way his head pounds, Legend can appreciate the glow of the sun on Fable’s pale hair and Sky’s white jacket. He knows what sunny means: no walls, no locked doors.
And there won't be. Not ever again.
“Yeah. I can handle them.”