Chapter Text
Murderer. Worthless. Trash.
Blood sticking to his skin, even as they drag him to the edge of his world. Blood staining his clothes. Blood still slick on his fingers.
Everything hurts. Rudo thought that it would stop hurting once he fell. The constant pain in his fingers had migrated through his entire body, huddling in his joints and jabbing into his legs.
No. That was something else.
He lifted his head, a herculean task. Storm clouds crowded the sky, dark enough that Rudo’s eyes had to take time to adjust. He was lying on his back. His pants were torn to hell. His gloves still rested comfortably on his hands. They were a comfortable presence, weight pressing down on his fingers like a promise that they weren’t going anywhere.
Willing himself to sit up, Rudo bites back a gasp of pain. He doesn’t think anything is broken, it doesn’t feel anything like it had when those boys had twisted his finger until it popped. Regto had been red in the face after that, full of barely-tempered rage.
Red, dripping from his chest to the floor.
Rudo could barely believe what he was seeing. It was a wasteland. Piles upon piles upon piles of discarded toys and tools covered every glimpse of the surface that Rudo might have had. More rained down from the sky.
Falling, grasping blindly in the air and catching nothing between his fingers. Cruel faces smiling as he disappeared.
CRSHHHHKKK
Rudo fell backwards in shock. His ears rang. It was the loudest, most grating thing that he had ever heard. Regto–gone and never coming back–had scraped his nails down a chalkboard once, to annoy Rudo. It had been unbearable then. This noise, this grating cacophony, was worse.
He didn’t have to look for where the source was.
Hulking heaps rose up from the piles, bits of cascading trash joining its discarded brethren as the creature straightened to its full size. It had curled horns and razor-sharp teeth, and every other part of it was an amorphous shape that didn’t have any apparent skeleton. Except, Rudo was realizing that it didn’t form from the piles. It was the piles.
“What?” He tried to say, mutter, scream, anything. It didn’t come out. Instead, he ended up coughing this horrible hacking sound. His lungs felt like they were seizing, unable to master the rhythm of this new world.
The creature–creatures, there were more of them now–snapped its head towards him. He tried to swallow down his cough, but his throat was too dry. His eyes started to water.
The creatures rushed towards him.
The Apostles rushing towards him, guns raised while he holds Regto’s lifeless body, still warm.
He froze.
Something came over him. Instead of pain, violence flooded his veins. They threw him away, just like they threw away everything that they didn’t see a use for. He survived the fall. He didn’t get to die now. Not until he made his way back home and beat the person who had killed Regto bloody.
A piece of broken metal was lying at his feet. Energy flowed through him, and he grabbed it with his gloved hands. Jagged teeth and an open maw came hurtling towards him, and he steadied himself, then burst forward. His body was moving on pure instinct, lunging for any opening he could get as he swung his chosen weapon wildly. Red flooded his vision, curling around his senses and sharpening them somehow.
He cut through and around the trash with reckless abandon, limbs barely managing to stay in control as he sailed through the air. One of his hits landed solidly on the head of the beast, ripping the bone mask at the jawline. The end of whatever it was slammed into Rudo’s side and he flew through the air like a ragdoll, slamming into another pile of trash. His vision went white and fuzzy around the edges. Another spattering of blood makes its way to his chin, leaving his mouth with the taste of rusty metal.
He stood once more. He could still breathe, and he could still move, which means this wasn’t over yet. That same uncontrollable energy from before surges, snapping and clawing around Rudo, within him. The creature looms over him, confident and appears to roll its head, in preparation or pain, Rudo couldn’t tell.
The metal cut through the thing, sending it flying into pieces. He sucked in another breath. Something similar to sawdust coated the sides of his lungs as the dust particles from the creature flew straight at him. Rudo’s eyes went wide as it almost seemed to crumple from within, sections breaking off and raining down. With nothing left to hold him up, Rudo started to fall too.
His back hit the ground once more. It does more than knock the wind out of him this time. Something jagged goes through his left leg; the pain is searing. It feels like his hand used to, before Regto gave him the gloves. There was no Regto to give him gloves for this.
Thump.
Whatever that was must be coming back. He couldn’t muster the energy to sit up.
Thump.
Another gasp from his lungs. His fingers twitched.
A man stood over him. He had on a long black trenchcoat that was stitched together poorly at the seams and tattered at the ends. The cloth that seemed to function as shoes was held there only by ropes.
Rudo slid his eyes up, and lifted a shaking chin to see past the stranger’s torso. A shudder ran down his back. Whoever it was had some sort of mask on, tubes attached that hid from view behind his clothes. His hair was gray around the edges and black in the center, brushed back but still unkempt.
But that wasn’t what made Rudo so wary. That feeling came purely from the dead look in the man’s eyes, how the purple faded into soulless black that looked at and through Rudo at the same time. He’d felt judgemental stares from people his whole life. Never had it made him feel like this, like one of those butterflies the Apostle officials had pinned to their walls.
“Who…” Rudo slurred, “Who’re you…”
The man didn’t answer, merely tilted his head to the side. A quick flash of anger gave Rudo strength, enough to push himself up to his hands and knees.
“Don’t… don’t ignore me, asshole! Answer me!”
Nothing. Just cold, blank eyes.
“Wh’re is this? W’t was that? Say s’mthing!” He placed more weight on his leg and gasped, the last of the energy from before leaving his body. The only thing left was this age-old exhaustion that overpowered even his rage. The battle with his eyelids to stay open was lost and he felt his head thud into the ground.
Before he passed out, he heard the rustling of clothing and felt something moving closer.
“You’ll be of use.”
He passed out.
~~~
Rudo came to awareness in one quick burst, body jolting upwards before he truly knew what he was doing. His body ached, in a dull, throbbing kind of way. Breathing felt easier than before, when he was fighting whatever that was. It didn’t hurt. His heavy overcoat was lying next to him, and he was left in only his undershirt.
“You’re awake,” a quiet voice states from the shadows of the room. Rudo’s eyes search until he can find the source, a small woman with a circular piece of metal strapped to her back. It almost looked bigger than she was. “Good. Zodyl will be glad to hear it.”
“Zodyl?” Rudo asked, latching on to the unfamiliar name. “Who’s that? Who are you?”
The woman didn’t immediately reply, instead choosing to tilt her head to the right and blink. Just as Rudo was about to give into his temper and snap into a rage, she said, “He is the leader of the Raiders, and the one who dragged you from the No Man’s Land, saving your life. I follow the boss, and I'm the one who was tasked with caring for you until you regained consciousness.”
There was so much packed into that answer, Rudo almost didn’t know where to start. “What’s No Man’s Land?
“Zodyl will tell you.”
“The Raiders?”
“Best explained by Zodyl.
“What was that… thing from before?”
“The one you battled?” He nodded. “Zodyl will tell you all about it, once you sit down and have a conversation with him.”
“Are you going to tell me anything?” He demanded. Everything in this place was starting to piss him off. She was actively keeping information from him, and everything down here was trying to kill him. It wasn’t as bad as the oppressive, hostile environment from back home, but here he didn’t have Regto to shield him. All he had were questions, and no one seemed to want to answer them.
She took a second to think about it. “No. That’s best left up to Zodyl. He brought you in, so he’s the one responsible for you.”
She turned to leave.
“Wait!”
Her yellow eyes pierced through him, pausing in her departure.
“When can I see him?” Rudo scrambled to his feet, ignoring the feeling of nausea that ballooned within his stomach. He hadn’t eaten in a day or two, maybe a bit more. Nowhere near as long as he could go without eating, but it was around this point that Regto began shoving food in his face. Regto wasn’t around to remind him to eat anymore.
“I’ll be telling him you’re awake now. He’ll see you later today.”
“That’s too late,” Rudo snarled, “I need to see him now! I’m not just sitting around and waiting. I want answers.”
“Just because you want something doesn’t mean you’re going to get it,” she said mildly. “But fine. Walk with me. It’s best that you aren’t left to your own devices, I suppose.”
Rudo scrambled to follow her out into the hallway, a dark space that was just as dilapidated as the room they had left.
“What’s your name?” He tried asking while still keeping up. She was small, much shorter than him, and that giant slab on her back had to be pretty hefty, but she was still agile and moved quickly. “You never told me.”
“Cthoni.” Every answer she gave was short and to the point, if it gave him any information at all. Her eyes were an emotionless yellow, but it was a different kind of emptiness than the guy from before–Zodyl, apparently–had. Hers were a blank, uncaring empty. His were two bottomless pits, eyes that sucked up everything that was before him and swallowed them into their depths.
“Are we the only people here?” A twist down into another corridor. Closed doors lined the walls, and Rudo could hear maniacal laughter coming from one of the doors, a faint blue light protruding from the cracks. “Who’s that?”
“No business of yours until Zodyl decides otherwise.”
She stopped suddenly, nearly sending Rudo tumbling into her back.
“Here we are. Stand here. Don’t move.”
Rudo ignored her, shoving past her and darting into the room ahead. The door was unlocked, which made the whole thing much easier. Cthoni pulled at his arm, but his disregard gave him strength, and her small frame couldn’t do much in ways of stopping him.
He burst into the room, wood slamming loudly against wood as the door crashed into the frame. Short, sharp puffs of air made their way out of his chest. Zodyl was sitting at a desk in the center of the room. He wasn’t surprised by the commotion, keeping his hands folded in front of him. It almost seemed as if he was waiting for Rudo to storm in.
Rudo stared hotly at Zodyl, somewhat unsure of where to start. A dozen questions lay poised on the tip of his tongue, each pushing and shoving each other to get out first. His jaw opened, but Zodyl spoke before he could say anything.
“So you’re awake,” Zodyl said blandly. He blinked slowly, then shifted his gaze to Cthoni. A shiver of relief went down Rudo’s spine.
“Sorry, Zodyl,” she sighed. “He got past me. It won’t–”
“That’s fine. You can leave him here.”
She hesitated once, glancing at Rudo with scrutiny, before nodding and leaving. The door gently clicked shut behind her, leaving Rudo boxed in with her boss.
“Where am I?” Rudo demanded first, deciding that answer took precedence over the others. “What’s–”
“Why don’t you sit down?” Zodyl nodded at the seat opposite to him, a run-down metal chair that was rusted around the joints and chipped at every edge. A once-over was afforded to Rudo, a slow drag that caught every small cut and scrape that was visible on Rudo’s body. Zodyl’s eyes lingered on Rudo’s gloves.
“Answer me–”
“Sit.” His voice was firm, bordering on dangerous. “If you want your answers, you’ll sit down. I won’t talk to anyone so brash.”
Rudo fumed for a moment, but dropped down into the chair. It was uncomfortable and he hated being forced to face Zodyl directly. At this angle, Zodyl towered over Rudo. He actually had to tilt his head down to maintain eye contact.
“Fine,” Rudo grumbled. “Where is this? What is this place?”
Zodyl regarded him for a moment. “You’re a Spherite, aren’t you?”
“What the hell is a Spherite?” Rudo burst out, angry and confused and at his wit’s end. “I just want to know where I am!”
“I’m not just about to give you information without getting anything in return,” Zodyl informed him. “If you want your information, then you’ll have to answer some questions of mine as well. That’s how a dialogue is made. Nothing in this world comes for free.”
Rudo wetted his mouth, considering. He already knew that to be true. He didn’t need for Zodyl to tell him that. His heart was pounding wildly, and he wanted to lash out, to put the cloth of his gloves against Zodyl’s face and keep hitting him until this anger disappeared from inside Rudo. It was exactly the kind of thing Regto had always steered him away from.
“Fine,” Rudo gritted out, “I don’t know if I’m a Spherite. All I know is I fell down into the Pit and I woke up here.”
“Interesting.” Zodyl cocked his head to the side. “You are from the Sphere, then. As for your question, this is The Ground.”
“What’s that?” Rudo jumped upon the information.
“The Ground is the wasteland in which the Sphere dumps all its trash,” Zodyl’s tone gains its first bit of emotion, a dark resentment. “The Sphere–where you came from– floats above and discards anything it doesn’t want or need here. It’s the reason our world is like this. Full of polluted air and Trash Beasts.” He paused. “What’s your name, Spherite?
“Rudo.” He lifted his chin defiantly. Zodyl was an unreadable brick wall, not that Rudo usually knew what people felt anyways. It was clear that Zodyl was mad, but was it at him? His eyes gave away nothing. “What’s a Trash Beast?”
“It’s what you fought earlier, in the No Man’s Land. They’re the discarded trash of the Sphere, given sentience by the negativity they’ve absorbed. Trash Beasts will attack anyone and anything, and the area that you were in was absolutely crawling in them.” Another pause. “It’s unusual that you managed to defeat it. Now,” Zodyl’s eyes sharpened, “why are you here, Rudo? Why did you leave the Sphere?”
“They…” A lump appeared in Rudo’s throat, but he swallowed past it. “They threw me away. The Apostles decided I was a murderer and chained me up, then threw me into the Pit. They’ve always hated me,” Rudo spat out, “then Regto died and they blamed me for it. Someone killed him. I want to–I need to–I need to find them and make them pay for what they did to him.” Destructive rage bubbled within him, under his tongue, curling within his fingers. “I hate them.”
He wasn’t surprised by how true it was. The most of the others–aside from Regto–that Rudo had seen throughout his life was a turned back or a raised fist. Even Chiwa, kind as she was, didn’t believe him.
Zodyl got this weird look. His lip twitched like he wanted to smile, but the rest of the skin around his face didn’t move a muscle.
“You hate them?” Zodyl didn’t wait for an answer. “You want them gone? You’ve met the right people, then. Those here on the Ground live in constant squalor and filth, the trash that the Sphere throws down polluting everything. Nothing is safe. Even the very air we breathe is poison. You yourself almost succumbed to it.”
Rudo remembered. Blood spilling down his chin as he coughed desperately, unable to fill his lungs without pain.
“That’s all because of the Sphere. It is everything that is wrong in this world. It needs to be destroyed.”
Something called to him. Maybe it was the promise of vengeance, or the vitriol Zodyl pushed forth that mirrored the hatred in Rudo’s own heart. The bloodlust within him swirled around the promise that existed in that statement.
Zodyl was watching him still, a small light in his eyes. “You just imagined it, right? What it would be like if the Sphere was gone. If all their waste was eliminated from this world. This Regto you mentioned, you cared about him, didn’t you? You want to find and kill his murderer?”
Rudo nodded, hanging off every honeyed word as they dripped from Zodyl’s mouth.
“You’ll never make it back up there on your own,” Zodyl told him bluntly. “You’ll die in one of the polluted zones before you even have the opportunity to see the Sphere again. If you truly want your revenge against this Regto’s killer and the Sphere, then you need someone to help you get back up there. And I’m the only person on the Ground who can help you.”
Rudo leaned forward in his seat, ignoring the squeak of protest it made.
“So, Rudo,” Zodyl said, his empty eyes fixated upon him, “how would you like to take down the Sphere with me?”
~~~
Enjin groaned and rolled his neck, dropping down into one of the chairs in headquarters. The polluted zones were so annoying to wade through, especially when he didn’t want to bother fighting all those Trash Beasts.
“Enjin,” Semiu greeted judgementally, her eyes barely darting up from the mag she was reading. It was a different one than the last time he had seen her, so someone likely needed a favor and had to resort to bribery. “What were you doing out there? There was a job I could’ve used you for.”
Enjin shrugged loosely, tapping Umbreaker against the floor in a steady rhythm. “Caught some weird burst of energy coming from around Penta, thought I’d go check it out.”
“And?”
“Nothing more than a few agitated Trash Beasts. They weren’t anything special. It was right about the time that the sphere does their daily dump, so that’s not really surprising.” Enjin didn’t mention the strange anima presence he’d felt around some broken trash beast parts. He’d given the area a cursory look around and found nothing, so he was going to chalk it up to some rogue Giver, maybe even a Raider, though they didn’t usually bother with Trash Beast’s unless they had to. Not anything worth troubling Semiu over. She had enough on her plate.
“Sure,” Semiu said, suspiciously side-eyeing him. “Almost forgot to mention, Zanka said something about being glad to work with you last week.”
“Hmm? Did he?” Enjin mumbled, eyes tracing the bright lines of Gob’s newest mural. Bubbled letters were outlined boldly, and just like any of Gob’s work, it was invigorating. Dark reds and blues were present underneath, attempting to take the focus from the bright orange and yellow that gave the art its happiness. “That’s nice.”
“That kid really looks up to you,” Semiu said, flipping the page of her magazine. Enjin marveled at how her expression didn’t change one bit. “Hangs off your every word.”
Enjin sighed. “I know that. ‘M not blind. Zanka’s great, and he’s good at what he does, but the kid could stand to have some more self-esteem. I mean, I don’t mind givin’ him a pat on the back every now and then, but he should trust himself more. Kid’s good.”
“I know it. That’s why I’m sending him on a solo mission, with Gris and Follo as backup, of course.”
“That so? There a new Trash Beast or somethin’?” Enjin cocked his head to the side, noticing how Semiu had finally put down that dirty mag of hers. “What’s wrong?”
“We’ve gotten some reports of strange Trash Beasts hanging around. Ones that aren’t so easily taken care of, even once you slice ‘em to bits. Riyo found the first one not so long ago, but a few more have popped up since. They seem to all be appearing around this area. Zanka’s resourceful enough to handle them.”
“Why don’t I head down with him?” Enjin suggested lightly. He tried not to let on how unsettled he was, but to Semiu’s perceptive gaze, it probably didn’t do much. Zanka could handle himself, but this didn’t sound like something to mess with. Trash Beasts were dangerous enough on their own without adding something odd into the mix. “Sounds like it’d be interesting.”
Semiu shook her head. “You have something to sort out with Corvus and Tomme. But you are on standby. Second something goes wrong, you’ll be en route. Don’t worry too much about it. Your kid’ll do fine,” she raised an eyebrow, “or don’t you trust him?”
Enjin grumbled for a minute, but acquiesced. There was no point in arguing with Semiu; she always knew best. His eyes turned back to Gob’s mural, to the epic battle of light and dark within the piece. Something about it felt ominous.
~~~
“Where are you headin’, kid?”
Rudo tilted his head up and locked eyes with a large man with graying hair and lively eyes. He was tall, really tall, and he looked like he could have been fifty years old, but Rudo wasn’t really sure. He had this metal arm as well, easily the most eye-catching part of him.
Rudo didn’t say anything. He was frozen. It didn’t feel like fear or anger, or any other emotion that he was familiar with. There was tension in the air, enough of it to press down against his skin, spreading more and more with every second that Rudo didn’t answer.
The man regarded him. “You’re that kid that Zodyl picked up, ain’t you?”
“Yeah? So what?” Rudo snapped. Back when he was on the… Sphere, kids on the street had this toy they liked to play with, this ripcord one that they would only play with once or twice before discarding it into the dirt. They would pull the string once, and the top would spin wildly around in a circle, bouncing around and around. Rudo would always find the tattered rope left behind after they decided they were done playing with it. He had ended up weaving together a net out of the remains, one he and Regto used to hold the potatoes they would sometimes pick up from the market when they had enough money.
Rudo was one of those ripcord toys. Ever since Regto was killed, even before then if he was being honest, he felt like the slightest provocation was enough to bring the full force of his ire down on the world. Even now, in his state of confusion, he just wanted to break things until they told him what he wanted to know.
“Easy there, tiger,” the man chuckled. “My name’s Bundus. I’m a probationary member here–same as I suspect you are. Zodyl’s ordered me to fetch you. Said he’s got something for you to do.”
“Where?” Rudo asked immediately. Zodyl hadn’t spoken to him in two days, since he had promised to help Rudo get back up to the Sphere and get his revenge. Cthoni had come to collect him, leading him back to the room he had woken up in and leaving him there. Food was left out for him in front of the door, though he had never seen the person that apparently brought it. Attempting to venture out didn’t get him very far. He was never sure where he was going in the long hallways, and he hadn’t seen another soul until today. “What does he want?”
The man–Bundus–shrugged. “Who’s to say? Do you need me to show you where to go?”
Rudo scowled, but nodded. He didn’t like not knowing where he was or how to get around. Back on the Sphere, he knew every little alleyway, every little dent and hole in the dividing wall. Nothing was familiar now. He wasn’t sure if he could find his way if he tried. “Yeah.”
“What, no thank you?” Bundus began walking away, and Rudo hurried to follow him. Bundus walked faster than Cthoni had, and they were covering ground fast. “Youngsters like you have no respect these days. Someone must not have raised you right.” He shook his head disapprovingly.
Something in Rudo snapped.
“Easy, easy,” Bundus said, backing up quickly with his hands raised. “No need for that, now.”
Rudo’s fist had connected with his non-metal arm the second he stopped speaking. It wasn’t the hardest he could have hit him, but Rudo wasn’t really thinking about that. He just wanted to make Bundus hurt, wanted to keep hitting and hitting him until there was nothing left.
“Shut up,” Rudo growled. “Or I’ll kill you.” Bundus took a step back. He looked surprised, Rudo knew that much, but there was also something else there. Something primal, instinctive. It drew a line through Bundus’s forehead, tensed his shoulders, pursed his lips. A secret part of Rudo, one exempt from the bloodlust in him, balked at what he was seeing. The rest of Rudo didn’t care. He just wanted to make things hurt, and hurt, and hurt, until it all just stopped. He growled out of instinct, snarled like he was some wild animal. He felt like one.
Bundus shoved his metal arm in front of him, using it as some kind of shield. He seemed to be over his previous stupor. “This fight won’t end well for you, boy. I’m warning you.”
Rudo just bared his teeth, not willing to back down yet. Bundus sighed, like this was more of an inconvenience than anything else. Then he started to glow. Rudo blinked, unsure if he was just seeing things and had finally gone crazy, and this whole thing had been some kind of hallucination.
But no. Bundus was actually glowing, a bright orange-yellow that stemmed from the prosthetic attached to his shoulder. Rudo stopped, unable to process what he was seeing.
Bundus didn’t attack him in the meantime, just waited and watched.
“Why are you glowing?” Rudo finally asked, squinting his eyes to get a better look.
“You don’t know?” Bundus said, nonplussed. “It’s my Vital Instrument.”
“What’s–”
“I thought I told you to bring him here, Bundus.”
Rudo whirled around, immediately knowing who that dead, monotone voice belonged to. Zodyl was standing in the middle of the hall, blocking the door to the outside. A shiver crawled up Rudo’s spine at the thought of being trapped here, but he shook it off. Fear was useless to him now, in this world where even the air kills you.
“We were on our way,” Bundus says mildly. “Little upstart here flew off the handle first chance he got. You sure about him?”
“I don’t remember asking for your input,” Zodyl said coldly.
Bundus shrugged, turning to walk away. “Alright. Understood, boss. Call me when you need, Zodyl.” He paused, turning back to face Rudo. A once-over was given, and Bundus opened his mouth to say something, glanced at Zodyl, then closed his mouth. “Good luck to you, Rudo.”
“Are we going to the Sphere now?” Rudo asked immediately. His palms itched at the thought of going back up there, fixing what they had–
“No,” Zodyl said shortly, “don’t be foolish. If I had a way up to the Sphere, I wouldn’t exactly need–” His eyes darted down to Rudo’s hands, “No. I have a different job for you.”
Rudo tried to keep himself contained, but he knew he had a sour expression on. Not that he made any other kind of face.
“Rudo, you really need to learn to have a nice smile. Girls are never gonna get with you if you don’t start shaping up! Here, let me just–don’t bite!”
“If you want to get back to the Sphere, then this is necessary,” Zodyl said, not looking at Rudo, though Rudo still felt oddly perceived.
Rudo hesitated, but nodded. “Hm. Sure.”
They stood in silence, Rudo eyeing Zodyl uncomfortably as he tried to figure out whether he should say something. Zodyl wasn’t staring at Rudo, but rather a small, chipped section of the wall. His eyes were far-off, like he was thinking.
“You saw how Bundus reacted, didn’t you? When you were angry?”
Rudo didn’t say anything, curling in on himself the smallest amount. Regto had always told him to control his temper, to not lash out and fly into a rage or something bad would happen. He could see the disappointed look on his father’s face now.
“Your anger is the only thing that will help you, Rudo,” Zodyl said calmly, his pupils dilated as he stared down at Rudo. “You have nothing else that will help you survive here. But Bundus saw something in you. Something that made him, a competent warrior, afraid. Do you not see how valuable that is?”
“I don’t know,” Rudo mumbled. “I’m worried that I’ll do bad things. I can’t–I don’t have control when it happens.”
Zodyl cocked his head to the side, completely blank. “Why would you need it?”