Chapter Text
The soft whispers of the night, the inpherno could never be quiet, could it? Silence isn't real, and nothing isn't either.
Staring up at the ceiling as you wait for sleep to take you, do you ever listen? Hear the quiet woosh of wind outside your windows? The quiet crinkles of your bed from small movements? Your breathing? Your heartbeat quietly sounding through your ear? The sounds of your mind whispering to you all your regrets?
Do you ever hear the small tap on your window?
Do you look?
Have you expected rain, but rather seen crossed out eyes watching you sleep?
Hyperlaser lived in a small apartment, so small that his living room, bedroom, and kitchen were all connected.
He lived on the first floor, just above the ground floor which housed the receptionist desk and all the sorts.
Despite that, he still had a balcony. The view was most thrilling: large black buildings from the snowy district he lived in.
He planned to turn it into a cattio when he had the time, but time was rare.
His bed was pressed up the kitchen half-wall, the foot of the bed facing the balcony doors, sometimes it made him a bit anxious at night, considering he didn't have curtains. (He had shutters that Princess broke a week ago that he hasn't gotten fixed.)
Imagine waking up at night, looking down and seeing someone watching you. For some reason that made fear claw at his throat.
Hyperlaser had just returned from a month long mission, he had to assassinate a group of people that had betrayed a ‘leader’ of theirs, whatever, the clients business is nothing hes concerned about, it only makes the job harder, learning their lives.
Princess meows loudly as she trots over to him, rubbing her face to his legs while he rests his snow jacket on the stand next to his door. All the lights were off.
He rubs her head, snow from his gloves catching on her fur. She paws it off while he takes off his boots.
Hyperlaser doesnt bother on eating, its nearly midnight and all he can think about is sleep, dressed in what he considers ‘pyjamas’ (anything that looks soft in his dresser)
The blanket is tossed out of the way as he scurries in, it's a small twin-sized bed, but it's enough to fit him and Princess, and that's all he needs.
Next to his bed is a small nightstand where he keeps most of his medications. Ointments, pills, all the sorts that Hyperlaser's doctors have thrown at him.
Waking up in the morning is always the nightmare of sleeping, sore muscles and bones, dry eyes, painful joints, and a burning sensation slowly rumbling up. It's annoying how he has to do this every day, but you get used to it over time.
As he tucks the blanket under his arm, Princess jumps onto the bed and curls at the small space provided next to his stomach.
He reaches behind him, unclasping the mask and shaking his head out of it, setting it on the nightstand before settling down onto his pillow.
In the beginning, it was impossible to sleep with a lack of eyelids. If he spent too long struggling his eyes would get painfully dry, and almost everything in his surroundings would distract him. He used to use a sleeping mask, and sometimes still does if he has energy, but today was definitely not one of those days.
It's a bit awkward (going to sleep) When you think about it, you spend at least 30 minutes just stuck, listening to whatever noises the room makes or talking to yourself in your head.
He did this alot, stare at the wall across from him and recollect on the day he had.
Yet the day did not help him sleep at all. Murdering someone means nothing to Hyperlaser, usually.
Snow drifted from the sky, collecting on his thick, warm thermoregulated gear provided by KORBLOX, protecting his sensitive skin from the harsh air.
With a wave of paper he has five targets and one month to please his contractor.
District three wasn't particularly kind to KORBLOX employees, in fact, the entire district was unkind in general, no matter who to.
He didn't come here to socialize though, his hand is constantly held as if prepared to pull a trigger, energy tingling inside it at the want to summon his gear.
Bang.
The first one was easy, cigarette break and quick exchange of pockets behind a small building, he took the shot as soon as the other left. His gear created a recognizable loud charge-up and shot, which meant once the shot was taken, he was already out of the scene.
The second one? Slightly harder but more so the same, the guy was at home relaxing, a bit stupid if they knew their leader knew about the betrayal. There were tons of people surrounding the area and the only spot to take the shot was incredibly difficult to get up without being noticed. But he managed, that's his job anyway.
Third and fourth? Something about their moments made him slip, nearly missing the trigger in regret. Most of his missions end fast because of his carelessness when it comes to his target's lives.
He walked away with a strange grimace coiling in his gut.
The fifth target, the final one, grieving at a graveyard.
Hyperlaser almost wanted to wait and take their life when they were not in their most vulnerable of moments.
Maybe he's biased for slipping up, considering he knows he's in the same boat as the guy, walking along the rows of graves that were once his friends and fellow soldiers.
What would they think? Knowing they've been replaced by robots?
Hyperlaser almost feels guilty, as hes the only survivor and on the same side as their replacements.
…I'm being stupid.
He turns back, aiming his gear at the grieving target. With a furrowed brow at the mishap of his thoughts, he grits his teeth and pulls the trigger.
The resonating laser pierces through their head and blood sprays onto the snowy ground, gravestones, and the flowers in their hand.
Nothing but pure black and the distant sound of a heartbeat monitor rings out through the room.
I could've saved them, they weren't aware.
He knows his friend is across from him, dying on the hospital bed with the heartbeat monitor waiting to go silent.
His targets had lives, imagine he made another person like this? Watching their friend die knowing they could've prevented it or fixed it.
My skin was gone by the time I had seen the fire, and I couldn't even help my friends before I was dragged out the door and tossed into an ambulance.
It's my fault they're dead.
Dreams were always weird. He falls asleep by his vision slowly getting more and more blurry the more he zones out, dreams fissure in with that, sort of like a daydream you can’t actually see, but as soon as you wake up your eyes are immediately open.
When the strange nightmare-esque memory finally disappears, he stares up at his ceiling with sore eyes and Princess curled up against his neck.
With a small groan, his hand smacks the nightstand, blindly feeling along for his eyedrops. He pulls open the door, grumbling in frustration as he fails to find it.
Frustrated and regretful knowing it would disturb Princess’ sleep, he sits up and digs his hand into the cabinet, Princess meows awake as she sits up, slowly crawling to the other side of the bed.
Hyperlaser pauses at the sound of her growing yowl, his blurry vision can make out her crouched form at the end of the bed.
Following where her eyes stare, he flinches at the figure standing at his window.
It's a tall, dark figure Hyperlaser can't make out properly with his vision, he freezes at the site of it because he knows it's a inphernal.
They're so tall, in fact, Hyperlaser can't make out their horns. They're slightly hunched over to look inside.
They don't seem worried about Hyperlaser catching them, but they do stand up straight and turn around. Just barely, Hyperlaser can tell they haven't left.
Slowly, wide blind eyes staring at this strange figure, he reaches down to grab his helmet, gently yet quickly snapping it on.
Automatically, saline is applied to his dry eyes and his vision is repaired, albeit in hunting/night vision mode.
The streetlights weren't the most powerful in District 4, so they still remained a dark figure.
The energy inside them was a soft grey and spun around strangely, the energy in their horns being a darker shade of that grey. Their head and hands held this strange black energy Hyperlaser has never seen before.
A soft shimmer briefly illuminates the room as Hyperlaser stands up, joints creaking painfully. His muscles groan and ache yet he persists.
Handling his gun, he gently moves closer to the door, Princess hisses at the strange inphernal before dashing away at Hyperlaser's footsteps.
He can't help a quiet yawn as his hand comes free to grab the door handle.
What's the bet he's just hallucinating? What time is it anyway? He feels like a horror movie character, there's no way he's genuinely opening the door the murderer is outside of.
Any sane person would just call the police, but Hyperlaser's more experienced than the police, and has military training. He trusts himself more than the police.
The knob twists slowly under his grip, until it halts at a stop, gently, he opens the door and sticks his gun out, holding the door shut with his foot. “Reveal yourself.”
The figure seems unphased, wearing thin gothic attire, but even from behind, they're immediately recognisable.
A light gold halo shimmers above his head, strange wings the same colour are drooped at his sides, and the large grey horns with deep grooves and one tip chipped off.
But what business does a deity has at his balcony?
Ghostwalker, previously, had been leaned over with his elbow on the railing, head in hand as he stared into the district and one calf crossed on the other. Now, he stands and stretches before turning to the mortal, still leaning on the railing.
Ghostwalker adorns small charms on his thin glasses, his face remains as uncanny as the day Hyperlaser knew of its features.
Despite Hyperlaser's initial reaction — flabbergasted beyond belief — the gun only slightly shook in his grip.
“What the fuck?” a quiet whisper of his exclaim shakes out, but he does not falter, “Get off of my balcony. What are your intentions?”
Ghostwalker's gaze turns to the gun pointed at his stomach, taking a step from the railing. “...You grieve.”
Hyperlaser pauses, expecting more and confused by the statement. “Answer me. What are your intentions?” Despite the sass he wants to give the deity, he stays professional.
“A soldier, a pawn of the general, grieves over lives they killed.” Ghostwalker hums, “The idea enquired me so much I just had to see it.”
Hyperlaser grits his teeth, “What the fuck does that even mean?” He huffs, readjusting his grip, “Why were you watching me sleep?”
The corners of Ghostwalker's invisible lips tug upwards, Hyperlaser can see the movement through the skin where it should be, he almost cringes back.
“I mean no harm.. It's just.. difficult, to watch a dream without even being near the dreamer.” Ghostwalker turns back to the railing, not caring of the gun pointed at him.
“..You were watching my dream?” Hyperlaser can't tell if that's creepier or not.
Ghostwalker hums softly, “Yes, well- I was more so in it, watching from a second view.”
Ghostwalker's fingers tap the metal railing almost boredly as he stares into the night sky.
Hyperlaser tilts his gun down, “Why?”
Ghostwalker looks back at him over his shoulder, “..You don't grieve often, Hyperlaser.”
Hearing that name come from him sent shivers up Hyperlaser's spine, how did someone he would call a stranger know his name?
“Grief is a natural emotion to come early after murder, death, the sorts.” Ghostwalker turned to rest his side against the railing, “I personally don't feel it, and originally I thought you didn't feel murderous grief either.” Ghostwalker briefly pauses, “Seems you've adapted to mortal emotion.”
Hyperlaser disappointedly sighs, grumbling complaints under his breath, turning away for a second.
“Are you getting your pack of cigarettes?” Ghostwalker questions.
Hyperlaser looks back, “..Well, yeah. You already woke me up- How'd you know-?”
“I know everything with a deathly consequence. Practically my job description.” Ghostwalker hums, turning back to the railing and folding his arms across it.
Hyperlaser disappears, shutting and locking the door before reappearing. One foot hovers over the balcony, “You aren't here to kill me, right?"
Ghostwalker shrugs, “Not worth the trouble, nor would it help me at all.”
Hyperlaser places his foot down and shuts his door, walking to the opposite side of the balcony, weary and cautious as he watches his back for him.
Resting on the railing, he lifts his helmet and holds it in his arms, before pulling and lighting a cigarette in his mouth, drawing a burning breath in. “Howd you even learn I was grieving?” He sets his gun to rest on his hip.
Ghostwalker stands up, “You're one of the main reasons I come to Blackrock in the first place, continuously cleaning up bodies. Even other factions, I find a lot of bodies dropped by you.”
Hyperlaser scrunches his brow in slight worry, “You can tell?”
“Yes. My brain works like a computer, detecting corpses with trapped souls and understanding their lives and cause of death.” Ghostwalker fixes his glove on better.
Smoke is blown out once more into the night sky, it's incredibly blurry, which Hyperlaser is worried of Ghostwalker killing him when he's vulnerable like this, but it's necessary for the cigarette.
“Grief has relations to death, of course it's not all about death, but for you, it's about your loss and what you've caused.” Ghostwalker's voice is quiet, just above a whisper, it's clear he doesn't want people to hear his echoey, creepy voice, most likely so they don't recognise him.
“I've grieved before, why do you only care now?” Hyperlaser questions, tapping the cigarette, ash dropping down onto the street.
Hyperwalker flinches once he notices the dark hand approaching him, yet it digs in his pockets faster than he can move away. Turning, he sees through a blurry gaze Ghostwalker has taken his pack of cigarettes.
“Because, you committed mass homicide and now you regret it.” Ghostwalker fiddles with the pack of cigarettes, Hyperlaser considers telling him off for stealing it without asking, but deciding against it.
“I don't regret it.” Hyperlaser huffs, rubbing the corner of his eye and turning back to the railing. “It's all for work.” his voice quieter.
Ghostwalker looks over at him, “..Does that help you sleep at night? Reciting that over and over again?”
“Why do you care?” Hyperlaser scowls, sharply turning to him, "Isn't there a million others like me?”
Ghostwalker pauses, hand still fiddling with the pack of cigarettes. “..I don't care, Hyperlaser.” He hums, looking back out to the city, “I get intrigued, and a soldier built to kill, finally regretting a part of his job intrigues me.”
Hyperlaser slumps down, “‘Intrigued’ is basically the same as ‘caring'” he mutters under his breath, receiving ignorance from Ghostwalker.
“Why are you still here?” Hyperlaser hums, exhaling a large cloud of smoke, coughing with his mouth shut.
Ghostwalker slides one of the cigarettes out, inspecting it as if he wasn't aware what it was, “I like to study, so every day I give myself a time away from my duties.” He hums, holding the stick to the street lights, “And I guess that's now.”
Hyperlaser shrugs, “Bit of a waste talking to a mortal.”
Ghostwalker turns to him, “You aren't fearful of me and you aren’t hateful of me, even if I am one of the deities in the infamous Swords family.” Ghostwalker states, “Why is that?”
“I hate being told to hate someone based on rumours that haven't yet been proven true.” Hyperlaser crushes the cigarette butt with the palm of his hand, smoke rising from his mouth. “Until I can tell you're a piece of shit, I consider the same as any other mortal — just that you can live long and do some weird magic.”
Ghostwalker hums, “I suppose that's a way to live, I suspect you aren't a fan of the Scorch still?”
Hyperlaser doesnt answer. He hesitates, before reaching out to take the cigarettes back. Yet his eyes widen when realising they've been turned to smoke.
“Hey, you know how expensive these-” But when he looks up, Ghostwalker too has been reduced to nothing but smoke. “-are..” he finishes, dropping his arm.
Hyperlaser slowly turns back to the balcony entrance, before abandoning it and returning to bed, Princess patiently waiting for him.
Morning, afternoon, night. A daily cycle.
Shops, The Keep, his apartment, it seems everyday it's one or the other. He's either working, or tending to basic necessities.
Ghostwalker appeared another night, but when Hyperlaser tried to confront him for watching him sleep and appearing in his nightmares of his murders, there were only bottles of wine and cigarettes on the ground.
It had been about three nights, Ghostwalker appearing on the second. Hyperlaser was contracted to assassinate another person, and had succeeded.
He shuts his laptop, taking the last few bites of the buttered toast that he called his ‘dinner’. Having sent documentation he finished writing to the administrators, hoping they approve and allow him a day of rest.
Princess pats her empty bowl, causing Hyperlaser to sigh as he stands to feed her. Wet food slaps into the plastic with dry food and Princess happily munches away.
The two bottles of wine given has been sitting on his counter since the day he was gifted them. Hyperlaser has never drunk wine before, any celebrations were littered with cheap booze and spiked punch like a teenagers party.
He stands, picking the bottle up and insepcting it, reading the manufacturers life story and the ingrediants list.
Princess meows softly, leaving her bowl half empty and trotting away. Hyperlaser watches her abandon the bowl, furrowing his brow. Princess never leaves her bowl, not even for her toys or the sound of a bird at the window.
His eyes follow where she went, turning around to see her pressing against Ghostwalkers leg.
“Black cats.. The Watcher's quite like them, apparently they remind them of me.” Ghostwalker bends down, and Princess walks into his arms, curling up to his chest once shes raised up. “I consider myself more sophisticated.”
“You're in my house.” Hyperlaser adresses.
“Indeed.” His long black silk gloves cover themselves in Princess' fur.
“I didnt invite you in.” The bottle clinks aainst the counter as he puts it down.
“Hmm.. I'll be gone soon.” Ghostwalker sents down Princess, and she returns to her bowl. Hyperlaser finally notices what the deity is wearing: He didnt seem to accessorize much, but he clearly had interests based of, and the dull minerals wrapped around his wrists interested Hyperlaser.
He adorns a black dress, a gored skirt longer than his legs, another sarong skirt wrapped around that. His attire was gothic, but Hyperlaser pieced that together long ago. He never thought he had a liking towards fashion nor style.
Hyperlaser takes a step back as Ghostwalker approaches, only to pluck a tissue from the tissue box and hover his hand above it.
Hyperlaser watches as it suddenly drops to the table, transformed into a key with a white tag.
Ghostwalker looks at him, “Astronomy.. have you ever heard of it?”
The soldiers head looks up at Ghostwalker, still computing the transformation he did.
“The study of the stars.. whats out there in the Inphinity?” Ghostwalker hums, “I study it, alongside my first Watcher. It isnt considered important enough to be taught, but people who are interested in the large rock that comes at night and the burning light at day, read my books at mortal libraries.” Ghostwalker praises mortal curiousity, a smile tug at his invisible lips. “Are you interested.”
Hyperlaser pauses, “..I wasn't really listening.”
Ghostwalker takes the wine bottle, dragging it to where the key lay, “That tells me you arent well versed in it.” Princess meows as she finishes her food, once again curling around his legs, “I offer you my studies, if you are interested in more conversation with a deity.”
Hyperlaser still doesnt answer, watching Princess.
“...Over wine, if you'd prefer to drown out my ramblings.” He points to the key, “The roof key of the apartment complex, tomorrow night.”
“Shall I expect you there, or am I being silly, trying to teach a mortal soldier?”
…
Hyperlaser flinches once a hand touches his shoulder, “This time,” Hyperlaser turns his head to Ghostwalker, “I want an answer.” Ghostwalker commands with a friendly voice.
“Right.. yeah. Yeah, I'll be there.” Hyperlaser scratches his neck, leaning away from Ghostwalker warily.
“I dont want you to act to appease me, I want genuine interest.” Ghostwalker disapprovingly demands.
Hyperlasers stares at the keys and wine, “Interest for..?”
“Astronomy, my studies.” He repeats.
Hyperlaser sighs, “I dont have time to focus on such things, to be honest with you, Ghostwalker.” He hums, watching as Princess hops up into the counter, nuzzling up to Ghostwalkers hand which rests against the table.
Ghostwalker turns back to the cat, scratching behind her ear, “You do not need to focus on it, like I said, you can drink wine instead of sufffering through the boredem.” Ghostwalker sighs, “Let me bore you, Hyperlaser.”
“..I.. guess I can learn about the stars, or whatever it is you're talking about.” Hyperlaser shrugs.
“Wonderful.” Ghostwalker hums, “Dont let anyone see you, we both dont want someone knowing a deity is here.”
A soft meow comes from Princess as she sniffs the air Ghostwalker once occupied, she isnt a big fan of guests, especially Katana. She usually cowers under the bed, but at the sight of death, she runs into his arms?
Its strange, Hyperlaser thinks he understands Princess, but seeing her coddle up to the deity of death, he never thought it would happen. If she should be scared of anyone, its him.
His eyes flicker out the kitchen window. The moon rising between the cracks of mountains and buildings.
I guess I do often wonder what it could be.
He shoves the key into his pocket, the bottles clink together as he sets them down near the edge, sitting down with a sigh and hanging his legs over the edge.
Almost instantly, smoke rises beside him and out of his peripheral vision, he watches the same skirt hang over the edge.
“Astronomy, the study of the stars.” Ghostwalker hums, placing two books next to the wine.
“..Good evening to you too.” Hyperlaser greets quietly, hunching over and resting his chin on his hand.
“I chose this spot so you could stare at the stars while I teach you of them.” Ghostwalker pauses to look down at the bottles, “No glasses? Do you plan to drink from the bottle?”
Hyperlaser nods, “I drink beer like that, so I'm drinking wine like that.”
Ghostwalker shrugs, “I couldn’t care, not like we'll be judged up here.” He hums, grabbing the wine bottle, and it loudly pops once he opens it. “Any of your own questions before I begin?” Ghostwalker asks before taking a sip.
“I've been wondering why you care to teach your studies to mortals.” Hyperlaser actually has a million question, but this seemed the most logical and appropriate question in the moment.
The leather book covered in purple gems, the paper inside seems very old, but somehow untathered. “Mortals one day will know more of the Inphinity than they will know of me.” When the book opens, its written in cursive with black ink, seemingly with a oziphrage feather. “I think one day there will those who voice my studies, praise them, and eventually they will be considered basic knowledge.”
Hyperlaser hums, “Inspiring.” He praises lightly.
“I'm glad you do not think of me as one might think of Firebrand, it allows me to begin that journey of knowledgement.” Ghostwalker states, setting the bottle down.
The paper crinkles as Ghostwalker flips through a few pages, starting on the first.
…
Hyperlaser asked questions, Ghostwalker did answer.
He stared at the black sky as the astronomer talked, occassionally pausing to drink or let Hyperlaser speak.
His studies definitely created a sense of curiousity, watching the tinkling stars and finally understanding what they are. Hyperlaser has heard of the ‘Inphinity’ before, but mortals merely refered to if as the keepr of the Inpherno, the more Ghostwalker taught more, the more Hyperlaser understood its importance, and the more of it inside it there is.
It was nice, a little, his voice was creepy yet full of emotionless care. It was also surprising the deity had so many years for an hours worth of free time from his to do this much research, and how? Without any other reference, how did he discover this and know he was right?
He states that there is definitely still more out there, Ghostwalker just doesnt have the materials to discover such things, and thats where he needs mortals. He wants mortals to help create things for astronomy, so he can study them.
Ghostwalker shuts the full study book and rests it next to him. His wine bottle was half empty, while Hyperlaser's had a few droplets he was trying to shake out, clearly Ghostwalker knew he would enjoy it.
“I brought you this.” Ghostwalkers grabs the second book, holding it out to Hyperlaser. “Its my published book, complete with my drawings.”
Hyperlaser lowers the bottle, before reaching out and grabbing the much more recently made book, ‘Basic Understandings of Astronomy’ By, Anonymous’. Of course he goes to be anonymous to mortals, if not, they would burn the books, knowing its made by a deity. “Thanks.. I'll.. be sure to take a look when I can.”
Ghostwalker hums, looking upwards, “..It appears I’ve blabbled onto your bedtime.”
Hyperlaser follows his sight, seeing the moon straight above. “Is this that ‘being able to see time based on the sun and moon movements’ thing you were talking about?”
“Yes, do you remember what phase the moon is currently in?” Ghostwalker questions, Hyperlaser can hear the pleased tone in his voice, yet its strange to still remember Ghostwalker as emotionless.
“...Uhm.. Wax…?”
“Waning gibbous, its three in the morning.” Ghostwalker stands, his study book at his hip, “This is how they used to do it before the rebirth, back with volcanoes littered Blackrock, and Crossroads was a volcano itself.”
Hyperlaser takes the two bottles and the book, standing up alongside Ghostwalker, “Blackrock has volcanoes?”
“They died long ago.” Ghostwalker hums, “History.. I study that too, yet Dusekkar knows more of it than mortals do, she and old abandoned books I restore teach me of the past. I will return soon, with studies of the formation of the Inpherno, if you enjoyed our time here.”
Hyperlaser hums, “I did.” A light amile tugs at his lips.
Ghostwalker turns Hyperlaser back to the roof entrance, “Allow me to accompany you back to your room, Hyperlaser.” He offers, before taking his hands of Hyperlaser and beginning to walk.
“What if someone sees you?” Hyperlaser asks, jogging up to meet him.
“I’ve made sure they wont.”
…
When the door to Hyperlaser's home opened, he turned to say goodbye, only to find Ghostwalker had left with his smoke remaining.
The gifted book rested on the nightstand, and he tossed and turned, thinking of Ghostwalker's teachings, and the betrayal he mught be causing.
Katana would definitely disapprove his conversations with Ghostwalker, if he knew. Hyperlaser knows his disdain for the Swords, and doesnt comment on it.
Does he care what he thinks though? What anyone thinks?
Hyperlaser sits up, looking out the balcony door.
It begun raining, rain tapped on the window loudly. He wasnt sure what he expected nor who he was waiting for.
No. I dont care. Its my life, they can judge but I wont listen.