Chapter Text
“Have you heard.?” Medkit vocalised, eyes locked onto a book he was skimming through, glasses rested on his nose and ears. It was like every other day in the laboratory that they had been assigned to work in all those years ago - wake up, arrive, examine, read, argue, eat, analyse, argue, sleep, repeat. There was no need to change it. Everything was perfectly calm and everything was perfectly okay.
“Heard what?” His partner, Subspace queried, snappy but intrigued - he looked up from his test tubes and lab results. They were making more of an effort recently not to tick each other off as much, which was going as well as you’d expect.
“They’re bringing us a new test subject. Said that just using Blackrockian inphernals isn’t enough for our results and products to be top grade.” The green engineer answered, flipping a page and pushing his specs upward, side-eyeing Subspace quickly. Normally, things did not change; that’s just how it was when you worked as a scientist and an engineer for the gruellingly cold faction, Blackrock. Some prefer it that way. A predetermined path. A scheduled routine.
“What faction are they from? Wait.. don’t tell.. Did they catch a Playgrounder? Oh, those ones are always said to be the most… single-minded.” The pink scientist announced - the theorisation immensely amused him. A brief annoyed expression washed over the other demon.
“Be patient. I don’t know everything. That’s all they told us. The information we need will be stored within the document that the higher ups will give us, along with the inphernal’s body.” Medkit spat, not too rudely, but as if it was common knowledge, which got on the pink demon’s nerves a lot. An unresolved, growing tension hung heavy in the air, exemplified by the stare off they were both silently and seemingly challenging one another to.
“Well, aren’t you supposed to be the know-it-all? The smart one? You should already know everything about this mysterious demon.” Subspace continued, stoking the fire, slightly mockingly smiling at him. Medkit sighed, vexed to have his leisure be disturbed by another petty quarrel, but he couldn’t really complain - half of them are caused by his own words anyway.
“No, I do not know everything , this is all they have told us so far. If you are so eager, go find out for yourself, I really don’t care.” The green one remarked, returning to his activity.
“No point. It’s not important, right now.” Subspace claimed, half-defeated, half-frustrated and ready to start punching the nearest wall.
“Okay.” Medkit mouthed, reading in silence.
“Would it cost that much for you to stop being so… closed-off and standoffish for once.” The healer snapped his head around, glaring sharply. He forced the book shut.
“It would be so much better for our work if you stopped being such a nuisance every second of every hour. Sometimes, I prefer to be left alone.” The green inphernal commented, praying that one day Subspace would finally leave him be.
“But.. for our work. It’s a requirement for our job, you need to make the effort, Meddy.” The nickname slipped off his tongue as unsatisfyingly sour as ever - it did not feel right at all. Medkit snapped up at the use of it, bitterness exponentially heightening inside of him.
“I’d say the same to you too. And anyway, nowhere did it say we have to be friends or acquaintances . It’s strictly a work relationship.” The healer verbalised, pointing an accusatory finger up at his colleague. “And, never use that nickname on me ever again.”
“Oh.. really? Doesn’t mean you don’t have to make at least a small effort to get along with me. To communicate with me? At least try to be pleasant and approachable. We will work better if we can work as a team, but you seem to be unnaturally opposed to that idea.” Subspace shouted, hoping the other would quit being so shallow and close-minded.
“Pleasant and approachable? I’d say you barely encompass those traits. Don’t expect me to change if you won’t commit to it too, fucking hypocrite.” Those words got to Subspace, securing themselves within his headspace and ringing eternally, the phrase repeating like a horrible, traumatic memory. The pink demon gritted his teeth in utter outrage and resentment, the storm bubbling within him now unmeasurably gigantic and overwhelming. He balled his hands into fists, exuding absolute aggression and impending violence.
“You.. Shut up!! Shut up!” Subspace screamed, shoving his palm onto Medkit’s skull and hastily gripping a fistful of hair. “You.. you’re one to talk, you.. If you want this to work just…!”
Before the ill-tempered inphernal could finish that sentence, a voice erupted from the loud speaker positioned in their laboratory.
Medkit. Subspace. The cargo has arrived. Please come to the drop-off zone to pick it up, along with the file, containing details about the test subject.
Medkit broke out of the other demon’s grasp begrudgingly, “Let’s just go, forget this happened for now.” He snarled, patting his hair down, making sure it was still straight and well-kept. Subspace delivered him a seething expression in response, but let it all fizzle out as he simply accepted that he had lost - well he had not lost, it’s just that they had work to do and it could not get dragged down by the silly fact that they struggled to exist on the same wave length and pretty much fought everyday. But, they could not risk letting it affect their work output, unless they want to risk feeling the wrath of the Blackrock government and higher ups.
“Sure.” The pink one growled, peeved at the unresolved tension and his unsatiated bloodlust. “Don’t want to be late.” Medkit nodded and they hurried out the door, walking down through the corridors calmly as if they had not been ready to kill each other moments ago.
Both of them couldn’t quite put their finger on it, but today felt different to every other day - sure, it was usual for them to get physical or argue profusely with one another; however, not everyday were they promised something new. A different type of demon to experiment on. There was so much they did not know about demons from other landscapes. In Subspace’s case, he was thrilled and exasperated, feeling as if he would have both a new excitement in his life but also a new chance to prove himself to everyone around him. But with Medkit, he was much more an edge about this new development. Yes, he’d have tasks to do unlike anything he’s done in a while - he had this slight suspicion that something was going to happen. He did not know where that premonition came from, but for some reason he felt inclined to trust it. Yet, he would not dare vocalise it.
They continued to traverse the winding and perilous hallways that they had become quite accustomed to, due to the sheer amount of time spent growing up within these walls. They would not provoke the other with a single word of phrase, silence looming heavily and suffocatingly. The rhythmic clacking of the soles of their shoes attempted to drown out their quietness and the inherent loud booming and whirring throughout the facility. They trudged side by side - when they reached the entrance to the drop-off zone, they halted. Medkit closed his eyes, breathing in and out. There was nothing to fear. It was all going to be alright. Just go in, pick up the body, go back. No one is looking. No one is looking. Subspace, tired of waiting, pushing open the set of double doors forcefully, knocking the healer out of his little trance. Medkit tailed Subspace, as they ambled with defined purpose.
Some demons were huddled by a few crates - one had been opened, holding what seems to be a body, with a ragged dusty brown bag pulled over its head - though, they couldn’t really discern much, because of their distance, so they bolted over quickly.
“Here’s the file.” The demon with the mask said, uninterested and disconnected. It was shoved coldly into Subspace’s arms, which he held out flicking through briefly.
“They’re from Lost Temple..” The explosive one whispered, which the healer picked up on. They had never visited that faction, but word had spread that one of the deities had turned it into an everlasting blazing inferno, making it an undesirable, burning nightmare to inhabit. He shut the folder and refocused on the demon laying unconscious in the crate.
“Cargo is in there. We’ll need the crate, so you will need to take the body back to the laboratory on your own.” One of the higher ups commanded.
“Why couldn’t you just bring it to us?” Medkit questioned; he was not sure why he was speaking out, this was typical behaviour of high-ranking Blackrock officials.
“We are on a tight schedule as is, we cannot risk wasting any time. Don’t ask such frivolous things of us.” They announced.
“I apologise for stepping out of line. It will not happen again.” The healer pleaded, descending into a bow of sorrow and resignation.
“You have been forgiven; leave, now. We have important business to attend to.” The demon demanded, rushing off along with the other inphernals previously surrounding them. Medkit hadn’t realised but he was holding his breath, so he released it as his vision began to cloud and blur. He straightened his glasses and noticed Subspace staring at his display rather disapprovingly.
“What was that? Why?!” Subspace barked, appalled by how his partner chose to talk to someone they are both supposed to be respecting wholeheartedly. He looked like he was about to blow a fuse.
“Shut up. It’s alright. I just… they forgave me. Just forget it happened.” The green demon offered, not wanting to fire up more strife between them. “Let’s just pick up the body and go. Then, we can get working as soon as possible. And stop pointlessly bickering with each other like children.”
“Sure. Okay.” Subspace accepted, knowing there was no way he was going to get a concrete reason from his colleague as to why he decided to do that, leaving him to ponder on his own. Maybe pent-up displeasure and incompleteness, possibly from their recent argument. Maybe something else. “How are we gonna transport it?” He asked, as he hauled the mass out of the container. The head and torso were covered by a bag, drawn tightly with a string around the mid-point of the arm and stomach. Seemingly, they still donned the clothing that they had been kidnapped in. Scratches and bruises were scattered along their lower arms, connoting some sort of struggle that came with taking someone nonconsensually from their home and knocking them out. Their shirt and trousers were littered with tiny tears and specks of dirt. Before Subspace could speak, Medkit piped up.
“I’ll carry the body. You bring the file.” The unsociable medic dictated; who was Subspace to argue? He agreed with it and held the folder close to his chest. Medkit picked up the body and secured it into a bridal hold, hurtling away as they exited and began the lengthy trek back to their personal laboratory.
Subspace peeked into the document, eyes lining the information concerning some random demon they had been tasked with experimenting on, out of the blue. It was far from a dream come true, but nevertheless, was something he was happy had he had been trusted with. It meant that he had been given a chance to prove himself to not only Medkit, but also the illustrious government and the higher ups. Maybe, this time, if he performed well enough, he could be promoted! Oh, that would be amazing!
Medkit felt the texture of the bag fabric rub against his palm, which sent a miniscule shiver down his spine. It was not abnormal for Blackrock to bring in traitorous adolescents for them to test on, and it was clear that the one they had brought them was rather young too. All of a sudden, a minor giggle emanated from Subspace’s throat, earning him a confused glance from the healer. “What is it.?” Medkit quanderied.
“Nothing.. Just something rather interesting that’s in the file. I’ll tell you when we get back. Oh.. you’ll like it!” The pink inphernal sang, shutting it and clasping it beside his hip.
“Sure.” Medkit redirected his gaze to the twisting corridors ahead. They both could feel the everpresent sense of unsettled conflict and strain in the air - they strided, clearly and desperately ignoring that fact. After what felt like many millenia, Subspace pressed one of the doors open, letting Medkit trail in with the body cradled in his arms - without the context, it was almost a cute moment of protection and closeness, from Medkit to the random demon in his grasp. “I’ll set it down in the testing room.”
“Okay. I’m coming with you. I’ll read you some of the important notes from the file, and bring any necessary items.” Subspace responded - it was as if they instantly got on swimmingly. “A pair of handcuffs?”
“Yes.” The healer added, succinctly gaping at the unconscious, drooping figure in his hold. The pink inphernal ran toward the desk, various items strewn atop. He noticed a pair of shiny metal bindings, snatching them with a flick of the wrist, returning by Medkit as they entered the testing room. It was small and a dingy, hopeless grey colour, inviting nothing but despair and desolation. No one would survive, no one ever remained sane for longer than a single evening. A grimy bed was situated in the corner, a tainted thin duvet laid carelessly on top. A dim lightbulb hung from the ceiling - it sputtered and flickered, like it was being choked to death slowly. The medic put the body down onto the rough floor, standing away to make sure his legs were not making contact with the carcass. Medkit peered at his partner knowingly, as if he was expecting him to say something. Subspace picked up on that soundless action and spoke.
“Well.. the demon no longer lives in Lost Temple, but now Crossroads, most likely for safety.”
“Okay. What’s their gear?” Medkit catechised.
“It’s a sword.”
“For someone who is adopted and nonbiologically their child, it’s weird his gear is so closely aligned. Probably, just a coincidence.”
“The subject spends most of his time hidden away. He is 16 years of age, red horns… energetic, very privy to putting up a fight…”
“Good you brought those handcuffs then.” Subspace beamed at that comment slightly commending his thoughtfulness and hindsight. He resumed skimming the file but something caught his eye and made him stop; he stumbled back in disbelief.
“Why… how… how does he have those?” He was puzzled. He was bewildered. He wanted to know. He wanted to know more. He wanted to know why. He wanted to know how.
“What. What is it now?” The calm demon observed, not sure what to think of his reaction. Was it something bad? Was it something good?
Subspace breathed in and demanded, “Take the bag off.” He shut the document once again, inclining Medkit to do what he said.
Reluctantly and rather perturbed to be left in the dark like this, Medkit crouched down, loosened the knotted string, discarding it and heaved the fabric off the body. What was there shocked them both a considerable amount. A pair of bright, feathery wings - though rather small, these features were very rare to possess, let alone a mere mortal possessing them! Never in their lives had they seen someone with them, or had the possibility to experiment on someone with them. Additionally, along with that reveal, they got to see the demon’s face. A pained expression lay stagnant on his face - oily clumps of dishevelled hair stray off his scalp like thick curtains - as Medkit had thought, more lacerations cluttered the visible surface of his skin, painting a horrific picture of the scuffle that occurred to get him over to the facility - the journey from Crossroads to this remote place was long and unforgiving, the transport guards merciless and brutal, especially to those with non-Blackrockian origins.
“Oh, this is excellent, just excellent! Who knew mortals could even have such things! There’s so much we must find out!” The noxious one expressed, very exhilarated by the prospect.
“Slow down. We should document this information onto the system first before we start running any tests; and, we need to plan what we want to do first.” Medkit worded, distinctly the more mature and tranquil one.
“Okay, okay.” He replied, re-acknowledging the reality that if he ran into this headfirst without a framework, it’d go terribly, which would not bode well with the higher ups. They could not risk having this fail. Not in a billion years. Subspace stared down at the body at his feet and then back at his lab partner. Before he could leave to write up the crucial details and begin the journal regarding the test subject, a sound arose, causing them both to stop dead and cold in their tracks. It was a low and dry cough that emerged from their captive - oh, he was awake already.
Sword’s eyelids fluttered open. Uncertainty and fright flooded his headspace as he tried to determine where he was and why he was here. His muscles ached and his skin burnt, limiting any movement that he wanted to do. A strong bitter freezing sensation crowded his every nerve, exemplified by the sharp, ear-piercing ringing in his ears. He was laid on his side, only noting a bed and grey walls in his vision. He twitched his fingers and-
“Hello, Sword!” A voice erupted. It cut through the atmosphere like a hot knife and cemented itself within the boy’s conscience. Sword rolled over in alarm and dread to get a look at the demon. He stood up on shaky, frigid legs, intimidated by the two figures.
“Who are you!? What.. Where am I?!” The fearful one shrieked, like he had seen a ghost.
“Oh, don’t worry, you’ll find out soon! You’re in good hands!” Subspace happily stated, ushering Medkit out of the room. As they departed, the healer inadvertently gave the quivering, panicky boy a quick glance. He did not mean to. Miraculously and strangely, an emotion crept its way into his mind - the feeling that maybe, just maybe, he felt bad. He felt sorry. Only a little. A young child stolen from his home without warning, doomed to be picked apart like a prize and, inevitably and eventually, would die. But, no. He did not feel bad, really. That was just his brain and body playing tricks on him. He is distant, calm, cool and collected; nothing phased him and nothing ever would phase him. The metal door slammed shut, locking the teenager with just him and his thoughts.
The red demon noticed the glare, but chalked it up to a silent display of mockery and laughter, a foreboding reminder of what was fated to happen to him. Sword wept on the ground, untidyily wiping tears from his cheeks that would not subside. Every part of him stung viciously and he gasped for air like he was being asphyxiated. Still shattered and fatigued, Sword crawled chaotically over to the bed, hoisting himself up onto it and wrapping the duvet around his figure. Maybe, he could pretend he was back at home, alone and isolated, but safe and secure. His wails ceased as he was lost in a deep slumber, due to exhaustion and the abundance of stress.
It was going to be alright. It was going to be alright. It was going to be alright. Venomshank was coming to save him.
It was quiet. Deafeningly quiet.