S4S

At the sudden sound of gunshots and the Mystic's command, Locke's eyes snapped open as he instinctively rolled low across the narrow entryway into a side room with a single door. Sliding his way to cover, he glanced back out the doorway to the smaller room as he watched the surprise ambush on Ji and the others shatter the calm stillness of the morning. After watching the clash of Mystics for a few moments, Locke gathered his bearings before glancing over to his left towards the doors leading outside the hospital. It made him pause for a moment: he could leave now, and no one would notice. This wasn't his fight- it was never his fight to begin with, nor did he really want it to be. Locke had nothing to gain from an overthrown government and the murder of some assassin with a cryptic name. None of that mattered to him. But something inside him wouldn't let him leave. Not like this... Locke already knew what he had to do. Frowning as he looked back to the center of the hideout with a soft growl of frustration, Locke kept his eyes towards the fight in the middle of the chaotic room as he carefully began slipping his way along the edge of the wall, moving with the controlled speed and precision of someone who had been in a situation like this more than once. Using the pillars in the room as cover and angling his positioning behind them to mask his approach from the attacking Corhic's and undead, he slowly made his way to the far end of the room behind where the two Mystics stood, waiting for an opening. It was only a matter of seconds before Locke saw his opening. Elya--who's name Locke had almost missed in the middle of the fray--broke free of the swarming undead and began to rush the Corhic Mystics in a bold rushing attack. The female Mystic who was controlling the undead seemed preoccupied with the counterattack, her assault to take down Ji, and retrieving her brother all at the same time. Now. Dashing around the pillar towards the Mystics without a second thought, Locke rushed forward at a full sprint. Then, when he was only a few paces from the female Corhic that hadn't slowed, Locke jumped forward as he threw his legs toward the Deathbringer and kicked hard into her ribs with both feet. Locke wasn't entirely sure if it had been enough to break any ribs, but it was enough to heavily stagger the Mystic and hopefully provide an opening for Elya if she could dodge between the undead corpses the Corhic Mystic had thrown in her way. "Come on..." Locke grunted under his breath as he pushed off the female Deathbringer and hit the floor with a thud, rolling back onto his feet as he landed and dodging out of the way of a possible kick from the teetering Mystic.

Sitting just inside the entryway to the hideout, Locke sat quietly with his back against the wall, his legs tucked towards him and his arms folded limply on his knees. At some point last night, Locke had moved to sit back inside the building when the temperature had begun to drop and the cold air became uncomfortable. He wasn't exactly sure when that had been though, nor did he remember seeing Ji or the other individuals step inside last night either- Locke guessed he had probably dozed off at some point while he had been waiting for Ji to return. The previous evening had been a blur in more ways than one, and the same restless sleep he had gotten last night, like every other night, left him feeling hollow and empty this morning. That devoid feeling continued to linger with him as the other Mystics in the building began to wake. Much of the idle conversation that morning had gone in one ear and out the other, but fragments regarding this Angel of Death and Ji's past it left Locke with only more things to think about, with something about Ji's story that poked at the back of his mind like a pulsing headache after a bad hangover. Leaning his head back against the wall with a gentle thump, Locke calmly closed his eyes and exhaled as he continued to listen.

Giving a wry smile, Locke shrugged his shoulders as he put his hands in his pockets. "Very well," he responded calmly, "I can be patient." Spinning nimbly off of the pillar he was leaning against, Locke turned and began walking towards the front exit in compliance. Pulling the small pack of cigarettes from his jacket, he removed one from the box with his teeth before placing the rest back into his pocket. Locke also pulled his lighter out of his pocket, but waited until he had stepped outside the building before he started smoking. Returning his lighter to his jacket once the cigarette in his mouth began to burn, Locke let out a long, cloudy exhale as he stood on the stairs outside. "It was worth a shot..." he mumbled to himself with a hint of amusement. Then moving over to where he had been sitting on the steps earlier that day, Locke resumed his position of sitting cross-legged outside the hospital as he quietly looking up at the sky, his mind slowly turning to idle thoughts of empires and revolutions.

"That's why I'm here," Locke replied calmly, "By all means, explain away."

"I find that hard to believe- actions always speak louder than words. You, Ji, and your company of friends who follow have been cutting down Pacis in the streets like a pack of hyenas on some ravenous hunt. I've seen the bodies in the streets, the walkways that are stained red with their blood, and you and your 'rebellion' standing over it all. Those explosives that were set to detonate within the Pacis outpost? Do you not see a problem with that? It doesn't matter if the building didn't go up in flames- the message you sent was a bomb in itself. You've made yourselves a threat. Terrorists, a riot- call it what you may. How many other people do you think will 'rise up' like this is some sort of revolution? How many more Pacis do you think will rally against this cause before the whole nation is fighting against you? By your actions, how can anyone not see this as an attempt to tear down an established order, only for a new one to take its place?" Locke paused for a moment, shaking his head softly as he set his jaw. "I'm not a Pacis hunting you down. I'm not an undercover cop prying for information, and I'm not some Dovish Monk preaching nearsighted repentance," Locke sighed, "These days I'm just a man in the slums- maybe an idealist yes, but still just a man. Yet where I have come from, I've seen enough to already know how this story can end. Which is why I intend to do something about it. I have learned from history- my history- and I will not allow it to be repeated. Not while someone else still has time to rewrite their history. "So I ask again, who is the Angel of Death?"

"I'm just a man that would rather not see this city fall into complete anarchy by the hands of a couple of Mystics," Locke said, underhand tossing the woman's throwing knife safely to the side when she didn't reach for it. "So, I intend to do something about it," he continued, folding his arms across his chest, "Who's the Angel of Death?"

"Don't let me keep you from your beauty rest," Locke retorted to the first man before glancing back over at the Mystic who had thrown the knife, "but yes, I am. If I hadn't left your hideout here when I did though it would have been overrun by Pacis within the next hour- that, I can promise you. Consider the fact that I'm back here me simply upholding that promise." Leaning his shoulder against the stone pillar with the new cut in it, Locke met the eyes of the green haired Mystic. "Besides, Ji said I was more than welcome if I ever found myself back here again though, didn't he?" Shrugging his shoulders as though responding to his own question, Locke looked around the open room from where he stood, a troubled look drawn across his face. After a brief moment of hesitation, he sighed quietly. "I don't get it..." he mumbled as he shook his head, tapping the knife's handle against his leg idly, "But... maybe I just won't get it. Why you do all of this? Why you have to fight the Pacis? Why you brand yourselves as terrorists? Why your first instinct is violence?" Looking back at the woman with the large sword at her side, Locke extended his arm out to her, the handle of the knife in his fingers pointed towards the Mystic. "Why of all the paths you could take, you chose this one?" Locke finished softly, a look of genuine honesty in his eyes.

Lowering his hand from his face and focusing his eyes on the knife next to his head, Locke reached up and pulled the blade from the pillar with two fingers on his other hand. "Give it another day or two," Locke mumbled to the first man, "and I'm sure you'll be on your own poster." "I guess wanting to know why he thought to attack a Pacis outpost was a good idea would be a place to start," he continued with slight exasperation. Glancing over at the third Mystic, Locke seemed to pause for a moment. Noticing the abnormal amount of bandages discarded around the other Mystic, something in Locke's eyes almost seemed to change. "You don't look so well..." Locke said with a calculating eye. @DramaQueen

Running up the last few steps to the old hospital, Locke carefully slipped his way inside the building at a swift pace. Making his way into the structure, he paused only for a moment before stepping into the large room at its center, his eyes scanning the shadowed corners and dark side rooms briefly for any immediate signs of danger. At no immediate sign of threat, Locke continued his way into the open space at the center of the hideout. As he began making his way deeper into the larger room, Locke caught eye of a few of the Mystics he had seen earlier that day behind some of the pillars nearby. Stopping a safe distance away from them, Locke intensely turned his attention towards them. "Where's Ji?" he demanded, a much harder tone resonating in his voice than earlier that day. It was only as Locke said those words though that he noticed the state of the Mystics, each one clearly not at their full strength as evident by their tired expressions and bloodstained attire- Locke hardly even had to guess what had caused those injuries. With deflated look, Locke exhaled loudly as he rubbed his eyes with one hand. "Where's Ji?" he repeated softly, the hardness in his tone fading slightly.

Drowning out the nearby cries of shock and calls to order that echoed from multiple streets over, Locke purposefully drove himself onward as he quickly walked back towards the city slums. After having retrieved his letter of leverage and misguiding hope elsewhere, Locke had taken time to think over his conversation with Ji as he began to wander through the walkways once more. To his surprise though, there had been another flagrant attack on the Pacis; it was under similar circumstances as the attack from the previous day, with a group of mystics attacking a nearby Pacis outpost; only this time it had been much worse. Locke had seen the lifeless corpses in the streets. He had seen the frustration in the Pacis as they sought to retain order among the sudden chaos. He had seen the onlookers and civilians being driven back by the officers in an attempt to obtain such order. He had seen the rioters and thrill-seekers begin to push back against the Pacis. Now, the Pacis were beginning to sweep the nearby streets, attempting to subdue any further revolts or outcries of injustice within the section of the city. The attack on the outpost wasn’t big enough to incite total anarchy among the people of Zvso, but it felt as though all of the wrong strings were being pulled, and a haunting tension was drawn tight in the air. Pressing onward, Locke’s eyes were set straight ahead. His gaze was not that of a chaotic inferno, but a single flame. One flame, which had long been hidden within ash and ember, now alight once more and condensed into its purest form: controlled fury- passion. Turning the final corner, Locke looked up at the abandoned hospital as he began making his way towards it.

Nodding his head once, Locke returned his lighter back to its concealed pocket before placing his hands into his jacket once more. Stepping past Ji and back into the large central room, Locke paused for a moment as he glanced over at the nearby Mystic with dark green hair. He stopped for a couple of seconds, looking at the Mystic's gleaming sword then back at her. It almost looked as if Locke was about to speak, but instead he gave a shallow nod before turning away and continuing towards the exit. Crossing his way through the room towards the old doorway, Locke said nothing more as he left the hospital and stepped outside.

"No one," Locke said with a soft smile, "Like I said, I'm just a random bum you'll probably forget you ever met." Reaching his free hand inside his jacket, Locke pulled out the lighter that he kept in his chest pocket. Striking the wheel to spark a quivering flame, he carefully held the corner of the folded paper in his other hand just above the dancing light, watching as the edge of the paper caught fire. "You may recall that I have a letter that needs to be reclaimed before nightfall," Locke stated as he eyed the burning paper in his fingers, "With your permission, I would like to leave now to ensure that I have plenty of time to take care of that." Just before its flame singed his fingers, Locke dropped the charcoaled scraps to the floor in front of him, after which he scrapped his boot across the ashen debris to snuff out the lingering embers and destroy what else remained.

"You're right Ji. Nothing can fix what they've done to you," sighed Locke calmly, gesturing towards Ji and the surging power in his veins with an open hand, "Not like this..." Locke stepped away from the window to stand directly in front of Ji, his brow furrowing as he searched for something in the eyes of the younger Mystic, any look of laziness now gone from his stare. "Justice is an eye for an eye. If this Angel of Death took your life away, and if it means anything coming from a stranger you've only just met, you have my full support in your demands of a life for a life," Locke said coolly as he retrieved the folded piece of paper from his jacket, "But the Pacis will come and go; and if not them, someone is going to be out for your neck. So don't gouge out the eyes of everyone else who gets in your way simply because they inconvenience the goal you seek- that is what changes you from a murderer looking for some vague form of satisfaction, to a man seeking retribution for a wrong he never deserved." Leaning forward slightly, Locke lowered his voice so only Ji could hear. "I said that you reminded me of someone," Locke whispered, "I guess, I just don't want to see anyone make the same mistake that they did."

Locke met Ji's eyes, feeling the burning fury behind every word that was spoken. Expressionless yet still holding an air of solemnity, Locke finally broke away from Ji's gaze after nearly a full minute of silence. "You know, I once knew someone like you..." Locke said softly. Placing the folded piece of paper still held in his fingers back into his jacket pocket, he pushed himself upright from the window sill. Then, brushing the loose dirt from his sleeve and straightening his jacket, Locke placed his hands into his pockets. "The Pacis can't stop you, and neither can I. But from one person trapped in these slums to another..." Locke paused for a moment, as though he were struggling to find the words to say, "... It never goes away Ji... After all is said and done, when this Angel you're looking for is nothing more than a lifeless corpse, and every walkway in Odhek is stained red with the blood of the Pacis who stood in your way..." Locke looked into Ji's eyes one more time, nodding pointedly towards him. "That feeling... it never goes away."

Locke said nothing as his gaze fell to an empty corner of the room. "Revenge..." he whispered softly, almost as if to himself. Seconds passed as a distant look veiled Locke's eyes, before finally giving a few shallow nods as he turned back to Ji. "If that is why you fight, then I only have one final question... Where does your fight end?"

Moving to the far end of the compact room, Locke observed an old window strewn with cobwebs and dust that was boarded up from the outside. Propping his elbow against the dirty sill, he glanced back at Ji. "Well, that's exactly what I'm curious about," began Locke, "What is your reasoning, Ji Naito? Why do you 'fight back'?"

At Ji's direction, Locke followed him towards one of the side rooms. This wasn't the first time Locke had been in a situation like this, and he had learned by experience to only go where he was instructed. No use in wandering off wherever he wanted to, only to make Ji more stressed or end up with a knife in his back for stepping where he shouldn't. As he made his way to the smaller doorway, he stopped for just a moment when he heard the front door open once more. Locke gave no remark to the Mystic's comment. He only narrowed his eyes slightly at her before stepping out of the Mystic's view and into Ji's designated side room.

Nodding in response, Locke slowly stepped through the doorway and into the larger open room, noting a couple of other people who were already inside- some he had remembered seeing from yesterday, but one or two of them were unfamiliar faces. While he hadn't really been listening in on the shouting that had been going on inside the building when he first arrived, he thought there would have been more people based on the number of voices he heard earlier; perhaps some of them had slipped off into one of the side rooms? Stepping to the side as he entered the hospital, Locke waited for Ji while also keeping the others in his field of view.

Locke raised an eyebrow, glancing out at the empty street then back at Ji. "Right..." he mused, before shaking his head and pushing himself off the window. Dropping his cigarette onto the stone at his feet, he ground the embers under his boot before kicking the discarded remains off the step and into some weeds at the base of the building. "For your sake and mine," Locke said while blowing out the last few vapors of smoke from his lungs, "I should probably let you know that a certain individual in this city has a letter I wrote explaining that I have gone looking for Ji Naito near the old abandoned hospital, along with other more sensitive information regarding certain activities I know of here in the slums. Before coming here, I instructed that individual that if I'm not back by sundown to retrieve that letter from them, they are to deliver it directly to the Pacis. I can assure you that given this individual's circumstances, they will not hesitate to deliver that letter to the Pacis if I do not return to them this evening." Locke began making his way towards the open doorway, "Consider it my insurance- I'd prefer that I don't end up walking into a trap only to leave this building in a body-bag, if you understand my meaning?"

Leaning his shoulder against one of the boarded up windows of the hospital, Locke glanced over to his right towards the vacant street. "Not much," Locke said with a shrug, "Ji Naito, eighteen years old. A dangerous Mystic, presumed to be a Transporter at the very least, though some speculate you might be more than that- in particular the Pacis that have been hunting you for years now. They've been chasing you relentlessly through the streets, like a dog off its leash." Locke paused for a moment before continuing, narrowing his eyes as though he were picking each spoken word with extreme care. "You're not just running from the Pacis though, but as you so kindly pointed out, you 'started to fight back'. But that's where the trail ends- there are always rumors, but no one really seems to know why you had to start fighting back in the first place." Turning back to look at Ji, Locke looked him square in the eye with a calculating glance. "What do I want? I want to know why you fight back."

Locke couldn't help but let a smile at the corner of his mouth slip. Nodding slowly to himself, he casually began rise to his feet. "The Pacis' need to update your wanted photo," Locke said with a grunt as he stood upright and brushed some dust off his pants, "Their pictures makes you look like you're only twelve." Pausing for a moment, Locke glanced back over at Ji with the corner of his eye before continuing.

Locke noted the pulses of Mystic energy on the young man's arms, then exhaled a cloud of smoke with a slight air of annoyance. Straightening his back to sit more upright, Locke let his head hang back in minor mockery with his cigarette poking straight up in the air. "Why, the Doshvid Monks themselves of course!" he scoffed to the sky with a posh accent, before lethargically rolling his head to the side to look over at the Mystic. "Who's asking?" Locke continued, dropping his accent and returning his voice back to a deeper and softer octave, "Just some random bum on the street that you'll probably forget by tomorrow morning. All I'm asking is if you know the man."

Locke's fingers stopped tapping the paper in his hands when he heard the voice next to him. Lazily opening his eyes, he glanced over at the young man who had stepped out from the run-down building behind him. Unmoving from his position on the steps, Locke said nothing for a few moments as he looked at the Mystic up and down. "Actually, maybe you could," Locke said softly, small puffs of smoke escaping his lips while he spoke, "I'm looking for Ji Naito- you happen to know who that is?"

Sitting cross-legged on the front steps of the ruined hospital, Locke stared blankly ahead towards the empty street in front of him, his sleepless eyes watching the thin trail of smoke rising from the cigarette on his lips. Mindlessly tapping a small piece of paper between his scraped fingers, Locke pointedly ignored the stings of pain coming from the new cuts and bruises on his hands as he recalled the events from the previous night. Seconds always seemed to drag on like days, and days constantly slipped by like seconds, but somehow last night had felt different. For the first time in a long time, Locke felt something that he hadn’t in years, as though a pile of embers deep inside of him were being stoked back to life. Embers that were slowly restoring a small flame, one that Locke couldn’t decide whether or not it was destined to grow or if it should never have been brought back to life at all. After all, only a fool burns himself by the same fire twice… Maybe that was why Locke hadn’t entered the hospital to confront the other Mystics. With a deep breath, Locke closed his eyes as he sat quietly outside the abandoned hospital.

Leaning against a streetlight on the corner of an adjacent intersection, Locke folded his arms as he watched the group of Mystics enter the ruins of the not-so-abandoned hospital. While he had never been inside of the ruins that remained, Locke had walked these streets many times in past years, and he knew of the rumors that circulated throughout Odhak regarding the building’s grim history. Even so, Locke couldn’t help but find it ironic that a group of Mystics who had just murdered a patrol of Pacis earlier that day would find refuge here. Glancing upwards toward the pink sky far above the skyscrapers, Locke paused for a moment as he watched the last rays of afternoon sunlight brush against the bright orange clouds that glowed as though they were ablaze. A feeling of serenity resonated over Locke as he watched day give begin to give way to amethyst night, with stars like diamonds slowly piercing the twilight sky.