Paramythi III: Prometheus

“Twyla Tychi turned themselves over to Capitol to save Kane Ruskin.”

The sentence travelled through the tunnels on repeat. Junior R had sent their condolences to Rebellion’s troupes when Merine had made the announcement. Rebels like Enzo suffered the most with the idea of losing his best friends. Reidonn and Neoma shared their ideas on what would happen as an endgame, while Tovi kept his thoughts to himself.

It had been Calix to speak up about Kane. “What do we do when the Cap’n wakes up?”

“Seriously?” Ares had been sat beside him, hands enclosed around a hot bowl of soup. The glare he shot his boyfriend could have killed, but Calix had been expecting as much. “There’s nothing we can do. Everyone knows Captain is gonna go after Capitol all over again. Honestly, Twyla’s sacrifice is gonna be all for nothing.”

“You can’t say that, Ar.” Calix whispered. “Twyla means a lot to everyone, including us. Don’t be rude, okay?”

Ares swallowed his words and filled his mouth with soup. The burn of his glowing eyes warned everyone else away when they walked past, ducking into their rooms to mourn and come up with their own plans of action. Two years of nothing but depression and darkness; now everything was moving like a roller coaster.

Enzo kicked the door down to the main foyer, shoving Damon across the room and into the pool table with an energy he had nearly forgotten about. His eyes were dark as he reeled his fist, landing a punch against the man’s face.

“Enzo, what hell?!” Neoma shrieked from her corner of the room. She chucked the magazines she had been reading to the ground before rushing in to grab Enzo’s fist before he landed another punch. “Dude, this is not the time!”

Enzo could have lifted the woman off the ground with a single flex. He was angry, beyond furious. Damon paid the price of such fury with a bruised face and chipped tooth. He spat blood on Enzo’s shirt and wiped the remains from his chin while Neoma pulled him back.

“Damn Rebel,” Damon groaned, pressing his elbows against the pool table for leverage. “Ya filling in the position for my wrestlin’ partner while Dante’s away?”

“Screw you!” Enzo barked.

“Hey, hey!” Neoma jumped between them, pressing her hands against Enzo’s chest. Her feet scuffed the floor against the man’s strength. She shoved him hard another to hold him off an inch or two in return. “Come on, man! What are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing?!” Enzo jabbed a finger through the air. His face was red, and his muscles had visibly tensed, making him look bigger than usual. “Deimos went missing with Theo, so how come his name didn’t get announced when Merine made that broadcast? Deimos obviously backstabbed us and turned Theo in! I’m just getting rid of his spies before they do the same.”

“Hey!” Neoma shrieked when Enzo rushed forward. It took all her might to shove him away and her hand met his strong jaw with an ear-piercing slap. The room went quiet. “Don’t you ever think before you do anything? Be tactical for once and sit the man down! We’ll talk to him together and work this out!”

“It goes beyond working this out, Neoma!” Enzo threw his hands up in the air. “Take a look around! We haven’t been able to work anything out for the last two years! We’re eating stale soup and tough Shema meat. Half of us are ill because we never see the sun and we haven’t breathed fresh air which is turning us crazy! Kane’s gone, he’s been gone since Ciiria died. Everything ended that day!”

“It did not end!” Neoma shoved him once again, slapping her palms against his chest loud enough for her palms to sting. “We just hit rock bottom for a while. But look, now we can use this ridiculous anger to actually get up and do something again. I mean, dude, we’ve been through too much to just go in head first now.”

Enzo’s nostrils flared, and his mouth hung open. He said nothing, wild eyes darting around the room to count how many people were watching in shock and terror; staring at him.

“Enzo,” Neoma put a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Come on, just calm down, okay? You can do this right if you tried. I got you, brother.”

Damon heaved himself off the pool table and broke the dwindling tension. “Deimos didn’t say anythin’ to Pythias and me. If he’s backstabbed you, he’s backstabbed us.”

“You don’t sound disappointed.” Enzo grumbled.

“So, we’re all in the same boat.” Neoma stepped back, hand firm on Enzo’s shoulder to lessen the chance of him flying to Damon’s throat. “Sorry about your face.”

“Sorry about yours,” Damon countered with a scoff.

It was Enzo’s turn to hold Neoma back. “Let’s just get our facts straight,” he stepped forward, narrowly resisting the urge to swing another punch. “You’re telling me that your boss didn’t mention anything before flying the coop?”

“Yeah, knuckles, that’s what I’m saying.” Damon took a step aside and turned to Neoma. “When’s your captain gonna wake up?”

“Dunno,” Neoma deadpanned. “All his vitals are fine. Twyla just put a sleeping spell on him. Could be days, could be weeks, minutes.”

“Or now.” Damon motioned towards the door.

Neoma and Enzo turned in sync. Kane hovered in the doorway, dark circles under his eyes despite his so-called sleep spell. The colour in his face had all but drained. He looked worse than he ever had before – ready to lay down and give up.

“Hey, Cap’n.”

“Hey, man.”

Kane acknowledged his friends with a small nod. When he moved, it was an uneven motion of limbs, obvious fatigue as an after-effect of his spell. “Twyla… where are they?”

Enzo stepped forward. “You should sit down, Kane.”

“Where are they?”

“Capitol.” Damon spoke up. All eyes turned on him. “They took your place and went to face Merine alone.”

Visible tears welled in the corners of Kane’s eyes. He jolted to the left, knees giving up on him. Enzo had moved quick enough to support the man and he helped Kane to the floor where they knelt against the gritty carpets and junk.

No-one had ever seen Kane Ruskin break down until that day. It was difficult to look away as the captain of the Rebellion buried his face against Enzo’s shoulder and cried. He was nothing but a shaking mess, clinging to his best friend as Enzo tried his damndest to comfort him and cease the wails that filled the tunnels.

When no-one thought it could get any worse, Reidonn came into the room with a basket. There had been a tradition within the Rebellion to give a basket full of fruit to the person you fancied; a tradition Kane had started when he claimed his love to Twyla before they became official. Alas, this particular basket did not hold the same sentiment in any way.

“It was floating down the tunnels,” Reidonn’s voice was weak, torn as she saw Kane curled up in Enzo’s arms. “It’s addressed to you, captain…”

Enzo had taken the basket before the words could even meet Kane’s ears. Neoma stepped up beside Reidonn, Ares and Calix dismissed their bowls of soup and tiptoed towards the pool table. Even Damon had cocked his head to see what the basket’s meaning was.

“Gods above,” Enzo’s face paled and he dropped the basket to the ground, spilling its contents of flowers and buds across the ground at their feet. “Theo.”

Kane and Ciiria had had strict rules on décor within the Rebellion. No real flowers, just plastic ornaments; for when a Sylvannix dies, they turned to flowers and scattered across the wind. While many people would look upon a flower bed and find peace in its scenic value, others like Kane and Enzo would come to terms with looking at nothing but a graveyard.

Every bone in Kane’s body came to life and he sat upright, eyes wide. “Merine, you bastard…” he ran his fingers through the soft petals, a mixture of dark velvet and blue colours sticking to his hand. “Twyla and Theo don’t deserve this.”

“Merine knows where you are?” Ares pulled back his lips with a sneer. “So, why doesn’t he come to us? Face-to-face?”

Calix eyes turned dark, his voice even darker. “He wants Kane to go to him.”

“Kane, what are you doing?” Reidonn’s brow knit together. “Kane… don’t do anything rash.”

Enzo stood, meeting Kane head on as he stood with a shake in his knees. “What’re you gonna do?”

“Meet Merine and finish this once and for all.”

Neoma watched as staring eyes turned away from Kane. They were giving up hope as seconds dwindled to minutes without a word spoken into the humid air. She made a small scowl with her lips and joined Kane’s side.

“I will join you, Cap’n.”

“As will I.” Reidonn’s strong voice filtered the room and the sound of her golden boots were heavy as she laid a hand upon her captain’s shoulder. “We will go together.”

Neoma was the first to turn, then Reidonn, then finally Kane. The three shared a look towards Enzo, who caught their eyes with an expression of thought. His stubbly jaw tensed and his brows furrowed before he even made a reply; one of which everyone had been hoping for.

“Ah, Gods, you know I’ll follow you anywhere, Kane.”

“You understand that this won’t end well.” Kane visibly grimaced at the wince shared between him comrades. “This isn’t a cry for war on the Capitol’s footstep. This is a last stand, but nothing more.”

“You have a plan, right?” Calix blurted.

Ares took his side. “Yeah, do you want us to come help you?”

“No.” Kane’s short demand was enough to push the younger Rebels back. He softened. “No. You and Calix need to stay here, live. The rest of us have to finish this.”

Merine had been waiting, situated at the top of the Bank’s grand staircase with a glass of wine in his hand. He looked the very embodiment of prideful; with the golden-carved seat he had pulled out to sit on, leg crossed over the other whilst he watched the ground below.

When Kane Ruskin did show, he was not alone. Merine could hardly scoff – the idea that he could nab every last Rebel from their pitiful underground hideout was everything he could ask for. Honestly, he owed Erebus an apology for his skills on torture, Tessa caved after an extra few hours of drawn out agony.

“Welcome to Capitol, Kane Ruskin.” Merine cheered, hopping off his chair. “I hope you’re not here to start something you’ll regret!”

Neoma, Reidonn and Enzo were pulled off their feet by Merine’s Magick. Whatever spell he had cast left them to dangle in the air and clutch at their throat whilst a crushing force pressed on their chests. Weapons clattered to the floor, echoing in ’clangs’ as Kane moved his own hand to retrieve something.

“I’m not here to start anything, Merine.” Kane called, pulling out a grubby, white cloth. He held his hands above his head and knelt to the ground. His enclosed palm opened, and the cloth floated to the ground at his knees. “I’m here to finish it. For good.”

Kane Ruskin’s reign had come to an end. The announcements made themselves known affective immediately and the remainder of the Rebellion had no choice but to listen to the static on the radio after Kane’s execution date had been made.

Merine Trezla was holding a party in Capitol’s Grand Hall to celebrate Kane Ruskin’s defeat. He had invited all political members of Galaxis to join – yet many declined the invitation on account of Remiel’s presence within the kingdom. Merine had laughed most of them off, claiming the God had no concern for what they did in their spare times as ‘mortals.’

Maxa had thrown the first fit of anger underground, sending the radio across the room with her foot. The equipment burst into pieces against the slimy wall, making Pepi laugh in a fit of nerves and hysterics. Maxa had lost the patience of wondering whether her sister was happy or sad. She was insane; much like most of the Kara family.

“Game over, Maxa~!” Pepi giggled, picking up the pieces of the radio with a cupped hand. “It’s all over. Guess we should go. Go far away on a boat and say bye-bye to Galaxis!”

“Stop talking.” Maxa growled, pacing the wide room.

Kaira had ran to her room in tears after Kane’s departure while Ares had delivered the bad news to Tovi. Deimos’ bodyguards had miraculously disappeared, and Junior R had begun to leave the tunnels and fled into Emvolo’s fields. There was no-one left.

Pepi skipped the pool table and threw the strewn radio pieces across its surface. Whatever she began to create did not bother Maxa in any sense. The pacing of her shoes was the only thing she was concentrating on; pondering the idea of leaving Galaxis as Pepi suggested.

They had no parents, no little brother. Nino had married Merine Trezla – and Maxa was convinced the evil side of her sister was what got Tessa dragged into the torture chamber. Floating away on the sea with what remainder of family she had left was the only solution. Until Neriah Kiska barged into the room.

“Priestess!” Maxa’s eyes widened. “I thought you would have fled the kingdom, by now.”

“How could I, after all we have accomplished thus far?” Neriah’s eyes were tired. Her hair always seemed frayed, no matter how long it got down the small of her back. Locks of ivory would streak across her shoulder when she moved. She tended to lock herself away for months on end while she prayed; some kind of cleansing ceremony, according to Twyla. “Maxa Kara, I must tell you of the future.”

“A prophecy?” Maxa scoffed.

“Hardly,” Neriah placed her hands across her stomach. She closed her eyes and sighed. “This is a reality. One which we must forge ourselves; for the Gods above can no longer determine our fate. Only we can.”