Chapter Text
When she was but a Child. . . A person she held close to her heart would always recount to her a tale to warn her to go to bed on time. To not follow in his foolish footsteps of insatiable curiosity and what she had always assumed to be just his sleep deprived madness.
Around nine-o-clock exactly, a man would enter your house. A man with footsteps heavier than one of a wild beast and one that mumbled true nonsense as he made his way to your room.
The man would enter your room to see if you had gone to bed on time, if you were still awake the man would sprinkle sand into your eyes and they’d fall out of your head so the man could collect them and feed them to his children awaiting him in a nest upon the crescent moon.
His children, ugly and hungry, looked like small chicks with beaks upon their heads instead of mouths screaming out as the man fed the eyes of all the restless children to them.
This man. Was widely known as ‘the sandman’, she was ashamed to admit his words got to her and she had believed in this monstrosity for a few months.
Maybe his unwavering belief in the myth was the reason s h e w a s s o p r o n e t o. . .
~ • • • ~
Clara Jolted awake, a dull pain assaulting her forehead.
Her vision remained blurry as everything around her only resembled indecipherable jargon.
She let herself be for a few seconds, close her eyes, open them and slowly gain the ability to see again.
The floor greeted her, along with part of the big metal box which she was supposed to hit people with. The weapon’s grip concealed by the sandy colored bangs that made up part of her hair, that didn’t erase the feeling of the cloth wrapped around it which made it only slightly easier to hold without dropping.
It took her a considerable amount of effort to sit upright without succumbing to the temptation of sleep again.
She let one gloved hand rub the sore spot on her forehead and then brush back into her hair, the tangled mess hasn’t become any better after falling asleep. It had been too much to wish the mess on top of her head to become tamer without the involvement of a brush.
With a slight correction of her headband, red edition which made the bow stand out.
Her head lolled to the window to make sure she didn’t look like a complete mess, luckily due to her new uniform free from any bloodstains she didn’t look like a complete mess. Even if the asymmetry pained her.
She would’ve probably looked even more professional if she hadn’t left behind her tie, but she would’ve hated to part with her gas mask.
Something she’d love to part with was the scar over her right eye, where a once blue eye sat left only an empty socket beneath a closed eyelid.
A tree passing rather close to the window snapped Clara out of lamenting over her own unfortunate appearance, the unexpected object zooming by at a rather dangerous speed.
Now that she was actually bothering to look further than her own reflection it was easy to notice there were a lot of trees in general; she can’t really remember the last time she saw so much flora in one place.
She would’ve described it as charming if it didn’t look just as dreary as the backstreets.
Speaking of dreary, her coworkers weren’t really lively either. It didn’t take long after focusing to notice no one was really trying to talk to each other.
She was starting to become scared no one here had the reason or will to start a conversation. Which would be dreadful because she also hated starting conversations, but then no one ever talked to each other and fighting alongside people who were basically strangers sounded like a recipe for friendly fire.
Clara was about to let out a sigh and take upon her the tremendous task of starting a conversation with whoever was closest to her, but she was interrupted by the bus coming to a rather sudden halt along with the sound of a ‘thunk’.
It sounded like they hit an animal. Or a person. But surely the bus driver was skilled enough to avoid hitting someone right? Right???
At least three different ‘sinners’ tried to stand up before freezing in place as a collective shiver went down everyone’s spine.
The reason? A grey skinned man with a rather well known red gaze staring them all down looking rather unimpressed, he cleared his throat to get the attention of the remaining uninterested sinners and then spoke in a tone that made Clara wonder why he was even here if he so clearly didn’t want to.
“We have made a quick stop for company purposes, please follow Faust outside and retrieve your new executive manager. Do your best to bring them back in one piece.”
The aforementioned person already up on her feet and halfway out the door with everyone else leaving at differing speeds depending on how restless they had gotten.
Clara didn’t make much of an effort to leave at a quick pace, it’s not like lugging her hammer over her shoulder would have any future repercussions like back problems.
The fresh air was like a slap to Clara’s face, it wasn’t as suffocating as most corners of the city. Though that was primarily because of the surplus of oxygen and lack of rats.
“Bloody hell..”
The sinner with the bat spoke, face contorted into a perpetual scowl.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been in a forest.”
“Aya?”
Clara hummed before letting her hammer hit the ground and drag over the muddy forest floor behind her.
“You’ve been in a forest before? Do they all smell like this?”
“Art thou implying thou expected a specific stench?”
The small blonde with a disproportionate lance appeared next to her.
Clara thought for a moment.
“I guess I expected to smell rotting animals out here?”
She gave a slight shrug, she wasn’t sure what she was expecting but it was convincing enough.
An orange haired lady let out a sigh.
“Don’t be stupid, other animals eat dead animals. There wouldn't be enough bodies laying around to produce such a stench across the entire forest.”
Her coat had the letters ‘Ishma’ on it, but its torn state made Clara question if that was her full name.
She only replied with a sheepish chuckle.
Observing the surroundings a bit more thoroughly revealed two small groups at conflict, one was obviously their own. Faust standing next to a person with a clock prosthetic replacing their head and a red version of their uniforms. The manager. Obviously. Though Clara doesn’t recall ever having seen such a head.
The other group was actually just a trio in warm looking clothing that might represent a uniform but none of them wore the same thing. Two figures stood next to a knocked down one.
…
If Clara had to make a guess that was the thing they hit earlier.
She doesn’t know why she hoped for anything else, but it would surely be impossible to hope this wouldn’t escalate into violence after a stunt like that.
Somewhere in the back of her head did Clara hear the faint sound of a clock, it was negligible so she did. Until it got louder. And louder. And then her vision swam for a second with a pang of pain stabbing through her chest along with a chain for just a split second quickly disappearing again.
The sound of someone screaming caught her attention almost immediately, she didn't exactly know how, what or why but suddenly the manager had crumpled to the ground looking as if they were losing a battle against choking on air.
She couldn’t help but feel bad and walk over to the one with the flaming clock head at a brisk pace.
She caught the tail end of the conversation between Faust and the boss.
“The beating of our heart now depends on where your hands fall.”
Faust spoke calmly next to the manager, making no attempt to help them up.
“I hope you’ll make a fine leader.”
The manager looked up at Faust, one hand grasping at the area where their heart would be. Despite having no face their voice sounded a bit breathless, but most of all confused.
<“Our”…?>
The orange haired lady, the tired man, gambler woman deluxe and bug arm seemed to have similar ideas as they’d also approached.
The orange haired lady seemed a bit disappointed, or maybe just confused.
“Is that everything?”
The tired not so hobo sighed and made a comment to no one in particular.
“A single apple has fallen.”
Clara raised an eyebrow and would’ve crossed her arms if not for her hammer.
“Apple..? I don’t think that makes any sense. Can someone translate?”
The gambler lady seemed more laid back and stretched with a rather easy smile on her face.
“Geeeez~ the wait was killing me!”
She looked between the manager and Faust expectantly.
“Finally some action now?”
Bug guy deluxe gave a slight nod blowing some smoke from his cigarette. Clara felt inclined to hold her breath.
“Well, I guess we could use a little warm up.”
The military-esque lady stepped forward with a sharp expression and firm tone.
“What is that wretch miserably writhing on the ground?” Her voice was laced with disappointment, Clara could even swear to hear a bit of disgust. “Are they to be the newest addition to the team?”
“Uh… you might wanna watch your words.”
The bug guy seemed like he was about to place his hand on the military lady’s shoulder but froze due to her cold expression thrown his way.
“I heard that’s our soon to be boss…”
The military lady’s eyes widened by a fraction, was she not listening? Clara highly doubts that, maybe she thought it would be someone less… miserable.
“Judging people from appearance, were you now? Never learned the consequence of underestimating someone?”
The older woman glared at Clara.
“I would never make the grave mistake of underestimating my enemy.”
Her hand tightened around her weapon.
“Alright.”
Clara smiled innocently and pointed at the trio still scrambling to get up.
“How strong do you think they are? If you’re right I'll believe you, if you’re not then I get to revel in the feeling of knowing I was right.”
“Very well, I will take you up on this offer to prove my superior capabilities.”
The woman turned to the three enemies and squinted in their direction.
The orange haired woman didn’t look very pleased at this development.
“Should we really be labeling our enemies this early?”
The bug man grinned, staring at the enemies as well.
“Heh? Anything wrong with trying to see what we’re up against.”
“I deduce that these enemies are more experienced judging from their builds.”
The military straightened her back as much as she could, finishing her inspection.
“But because one was taken down by the bus and their rather wild appearances, we shouldn’t face any major setbacks if we handle the situation with skill and use our greater numbers as an advantage.”
Clara nodded and gave a slow applause.
“Very well, we will see how this goes.”
Clara was hoping she was wrong just to rub it in her face.
Speaking of the enemies, the blonde one was finally staggering back onto his own feet.
The military lady seemed to notice as well, having turned back to the manager.
“Clo. . . Pardon, I’m not sure how to address you.”
She shifted uncomfortably, as if making a bad impression on her superior was a cardinal sin.
“Would commander Clock suffice. . .?”
She quickly picked herself up again.
“In any case, we await your orders!”
“Eh, do we really need orders?”
The bug guy seems confident, prepping his arm.
“Seems like going one-on-one is the only way.”
“Huh? H-hey!”
The orange haired lady was caught off guard as the brash man with the bat practically shoved her aside to relay his own message.
“Quit running your mouths! We just need to crush them all!”
Clara threw the man a puzzled look before sighing.
“Well you heard the people.”
She shrugged.
“Just give the magic words.”
“…”
Faust was silent for a moment, closing her eyes before turning around.
“Please do your best, Dante.”
as Faust started to walk to the enemies ‘Dante’ spoke, though Clara wasn’t exactly aware as to how she understood them.
<. . . There’s no two ways about it, I suppose.>
Clara followed the rest of the group but froze as Faust stopped half of them from getting into a vague battle formation.
“Faust suggests the nine of you stay back as backup, we must first ensure Dante is aware of giving basic commands to a smaller group.”
Faust didn’t give them a second glance before walking to the fighting group.
“Isn’t that a very bad idea during a… real.. fight.”
Clara couldn’t help but let out a sigh as she was completely ignored by th white haired woman.
Not much she can do about it now except stay out of the way.
For that reason she took a few steps back, but remained relatively close to the manager.
Except for three entire people, none of her companions on standby were very pleased about this development.
Clara didn’t personally understand why, after all less work on the job is just free money with little risk.
Though that didn’t stop the blonde boy next to her that was rather short from shaking like a leaf, he looked pretty close to Clara’s age so she wasn’t surprised.
As if on cue the moment Clara let that thought sink in, a rather terrifying blue haired woman lunged her way, Clara did her darndest to have her collide with the woman’s sword.
Clara kept her footing wide but the impact pushed her back a bit, luckily deflecting the attack was a good enough way to deflect the feral lady back to the active fighters.
Like a game of ping pong.
But she was lucky enough to not have the ball terrorize her again.
And the ball was a surprisingly strong lady that wanted to rip her throat out.
One must suppose just standing back and being labelled back-up didn’t exempt you from getting attacked.
What a shame, she had to actually pay attention to what’s going on.
The clash was… perplexing to look at, Clara didn’t really know what to do.
On one hand, her allies were losing. Pretty badly. On the other hand, she’s been told to stay back until something goes wro-
“W-Whoa hang on!”
The bug man stumbled back, raising his hand in a sort of surrender.
“I know this is kinda weird coming from someone you were just fighting, but I’m pretty sure we can talk this o—”
A spear-like blade pierced his torso, not granting him the luxury of finishing his sentence.
It was soon out through his side but not because of the tired man that wielded the weapon.
He re-directed his spear aiming to pierce his new assailant.
It clashed with a heavy hammer, his tired eyes meeting only one.
The weapon swiped, sending Clara stumbling back a few paces, the force behind it much grander than expected.
More blood was shed, something was said, she wasn’t listening.
Another strike, he tried to parry, the hilt of the hammer gained damage while trying to block.
Metal clashes again and again, the sound growing old quickly, but not as quickly at the sensation of something carving away at your body.
Pushed back more and more, no, this situation was hopeless, her shoulder was growing warm. Swinging the hammer again wouldn’t be a good idea.
“Hah…”
Clara tried to smile, was it too late to hope the military lady’s predictions were correct?
“Hey! If anyone’s still up for a tactical retreat the time is now!”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
The military lady shouted back.
“We cannot retreat until our higher up’s are safe!”
Clara opened her mouth, yet no words came out.
“Keh!”
She tried to block an attack from the man’s weapon, it slid past the handle of her hammer slicing through some of the ribbons then piercing her chest.
Penetrating the skin and entering the flash bringing a flourish of crimson with it as it passed the ribs, sharp edges digging into the body and releasing the burning and painful sensation of Clara’s nerves doing their best to tell her of the danger she was in.
Though she couldn’t do anything, she could only perceive as her lung was penetrated and her body started to violently disagree with the air she was breathing in.
Coughing, hurling, spitting out the blood as the weapon was removed from her chest and then-
She couldn’t breathe.
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She awoke.
Her eye was met with nothing but the plain old forest roof, she was on the ground among the dying leaves. Yet despite the life ending wound she had sustained, it seems like she wouldn’t be joining these leaves.
Speaking of those injuries, the particular sensation of blood returning to your system and your skin stitching itself together was not something Clara could describe in a positive light.
While it didn’t hurt like actual wounds it did feel incredibly uncomfortable.
She’d reckon this is what it would feel like if a doctor started prodding at you and putting you back together while you were still conscious.
She pushed herself upwards, witnessing the scene of her body putting itself together along with her other coworkers experiencing the exact same thing with varying levels of shock.
A deep breath in, a deep breath out, they died. Yet… They're okay, it will be alright.
.
.
.
Get up.
Even if her body was barely done regenerating and most were still on the ground Clara pushed her body upwards. Being disturbed by a bit of blood and organs laying around wasn’t enough to make her stomach churn.
The red gaze and Faust seem to be busy with Dante’s unconscious body, it’s better to leave them at that.
She should turn her attention to her co-workers, this wouldn’t be a short journey together and it’s not like anyone else was up on their feet yet.
It took only a few paces for Clara to be by the bug guys side, her hand outstretched for one of his own limbs. She liked to think she wasn’t lucky but she was honestly hoping he’d use his human one.
“Heh, sorry ‘bout that.”
She let a grin stretch over her own face.
“Should’ve jumped in sooner than I did, would’ve saved you some pain.”
He looked up at her taking a second to process.
“No hard feelings.”
The bug guy smiled and took Clara’s hand, stumbling ever so slightly at the force she used to pull him up.
“Besides, it doesn’t look like you got out of it much better than I did eh?”
Clara squinted at him.
“Oya…”
She rested her hands against her sides.
“How mean of you, you didn’t even see me fight.”
“Hey, I didn’t mean it like that.”
The bug guy sighed heavily.
“We all ended up dead one way or another so no one did that good right? Not to offend anyone.”
“Fair enough.”
Clara gave a shrug, a sigh escaping her.
“Ah what a blunder… this could’ve gone much better.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice.”
The one that was attuned to a very specific type of bug flung his jacket back over his shoulder.
“I could’ve gone without the free trial of death.”
Clara let a chuckle escape her, even if the situation wasn’t that humorous.
"At least we know what’s to come, maybe even make some last second changes if this made you realize you regret your life decision.”
The very big bug with glasses looked slightly disappointed at his unlit cigarette before shaking his head.
“No thank you, I think I’m satisfied.”
“Boo.”
“Sinners.”
Before the conversation could go on for much longer the rather deep and authoritative voice belonging to the red gaze drew everyone’s attention.
“We will be departing soon, I recommend you make haste to board the bus lest you want to walk to our next destination.”
He let his eyes rest upon the group for just long enough to make the tension too thick to continue casual conversations before leaving.
Faust also headed inside, carrying the executive manager like a sack of potatoes.
Clara waited for a few ticks, watching her coworkers go ahead without her before letting her legs carry her inside.
Taking her earlier seat near the back with a more quiet crowd there was no conversation she needed to tune in to.
As such the thought of taking a nap got tempting… more tempting… until her eyelids got too heavy to resist its song while idle.