Multitudes congregated around the scene, some with big-time news stations, craving to get all the scoops on the event. Many others weren't quite as enthusiastic, as they had families that had lived in the grand city – Red Biscuit City.
There were great wails to be heard all around, along with loud chatter - mostly insensitive commentary - and the clicking of camera shutters. The contrast depicted through these sounds alone was rather…tragic. There was a fine line between entertainment and tragedy in the modern age.
From the distance, a helicopter appeared, the whipping of its rotor blades as well as the emblem branded onto its tail drawing the attention of the masses. As it landed beside the wide tar that led into the city, two men disembarked. The air they exuded acted as a vicious deterrent against the excited journalists who were about to take their pictures and ask more than a few questions.
One of the men was tall and lean, with a beautiful face that bordered on feminine. His leather black hair and freakishly bright hazel eyes gave him a fantastical yet stern image when matched with everything else about him. The navy blue lapel suit hugging his figure might have been screaming the fact that he was the serious sort.
His partner wore something similar. He was half a head shorter, yet just as dashing with sunflower blonde hair and true sapphire eyes. As both men reached the edge of what was formerly a grand city, their sentiments synced.
"We have records on a similar case, right, Dein?" the man with the black hair asked.
"Yeah. Saint Camillo, ten years ago. I'd say it's the exact same, but... this seems a bit more extreme," the other man, Dein, replied.
"Utilities and Fint manipulation can grow with time. I don't doubt that it's the same person," the man with the black hair said as he crouched down for a closer look.
"We shouldn't have relaxed our search," Dein said, frowning. "It's come back to bite us in the ass, Rhos."
Before them was a gigantic, irregular disk that dug into the ground.
Patches of red and diamond littered its surface, along with different other shades of color and material. From the sky, it looked like a divine piece of art, but a more somber perspective – different from witness to witness – would argue the worth of an artpiece made using millions of human lives and billions in valuable paper.
Red Biscuit City had been squashed into a compact disk.
"It sure has," Rhos - the taller man - said with a grave tone. He turned back to the wide tar road where many vehicles were parked.
His hazel eyes were suddenly suffused with a faint golden radiance, and before him, the transparent and hazy image of a jeep with three figures riding it into the distance, slowly unfolded.
"Contact the chief," Rhos said to Dein. "Tell him I have a lead. In the meantime, we'll follow whoever these people are and engage if we can."
***
"You have no idea how I hammer, hammer!
Ah~, you have no idea why you stammer, stammer!
Ah~, look at me, squeeze me, freeze me, beat me,
Quit me, hit me, shriek at me, ah yeah!
Ah~, you have no idea how I pound, pound,
Hey~, quickie I go fast, I go clown, clown,
Boy, if you have some sense, you should lie down,
Coz once I wanna ride you I go..."
"..."
Ess looked at Bee, who was bobbing her head back and forth as she sang along to the song playing on the radio with a dumbfounded expression.
"Juice me up, raise me up, wrap me up, carve me up, press me down—"
Ess turned off the radio immediately with an "Eww."
Bee sang a few more lyrics with her eerily expressionless visage before turning to her brother.
"What the hell was that?" Ess asked with a frown.
"That was from Bullie Friefish's new album, Bounce Time. Cool, right?"
Ess turned his head and discontinued the conversation.
Bee was a bit disappointed, but it hardly registered on her face. She turned her attention to the rear-view mirror and began appraising the man in the back seat who hung his head low.
The poor young man was beyond terrified.
What the hell happened to the city?!
Where did his girlfriend go?!
Why was he here?!
All these questions spiraled through his head, and the fear that they evoked made him even more frightened to look directly at the people in the front seats. He could hardly scrounge up the courage to mumble like before.
To his dismay, he heard Bee address him, and in a manner he was very uncomfortable with for more than a few reasons.
"Don't worry, babe. I'll be a better wife than that wench could have ever been. And wait till I introduce you to the rest of the family. I'm sure Mother will give us her blessing. Twist will probably try to see how long you can last without your torso, but I won't let him anywhere near you. R—"
"Cut the nonsense, Bee. Tell me what happened with Father," Ess cut off the daydreaming mannequin beside him before it went on a lengthy speech about their family.
Bee sighed as she made a turn with the car.
"Mother called me a few days ago and told me that Father had returned. Our plan failed. Either the Speaker we hired botched the job, or Father had gotten himself some kind of insurance before he died," she explained.
"What do you mean Mother called? Did she leave the house? Or did you?"
Bee sighed again, a tinge of emotion visible from her eyes.
"Some... things happened after you left. We split up four years ago. Me and Twist left together. I don't know about everyone else. We call each other sometimes, but... we've grown distant."
Ess frowned, his sweet violet eyes narrowing.
What could possibly have made the family split up? Father was gone at the time. Everyone had every reason to be happy.
After the chaotic battle seven years ago, everyone had been thrilled to see that dreadful man who began their bloodline take his last breath. They had even called a Speaker to seal the deal. That was why Ess had felt comfortable leaving in the first place.
"Tell me everything that happened," said Ess.
"Don't wanna," said Bee, her eyes glued to the road. "It hurts just thinking about it."
A nasty vein throbbed on Ess' temple and his nostrils flared.
It was easy to forget because, well, Bee was probably the incarnation of the god of super-facial indifference, but she could be really emotional. It was also very hard to make her budge after she had decided to seal her lips on a matter, so Ess gave up on any ideas to pry answers out of her. She was immune to physical torture, which was a bummer.
He decided he would ask Twist instead.
"I missed you, you know?" said Bee.
"Well, I didn't. I need a few hundred years away from you guys before I can use the word 'miss' for anything remotely tied to any of you. Well, most of you," grumbled Ess.
Bee's eyes flickered.
"This time we'll do things my way. Mother always had a soft spot for Father. We shouldn't discard the possibility that maybe she wasn't too sold on getting rid of him for good. I'll arrange for everything to keep that bastard dead myself," Ess declared.
"What if he has gotten stronger?" asked Bee.
"So what if he has? I've grown stronger too. And besides, I've killed him twice before. I can do it again."
The young man in the back gulped down a mouthful of saliva. No matter how hard he tried to ignore the conversation, the ridiculousness of it eventually made his curious mind pay attention.
Kill who how many times?
He shivered as he thought about being reeled in by these psychos into their madness.
A warm, slender hand suddenly slid onto his knee.
The young man trembled.
It was Bee's hand. She stroked his thigh while driving with her other hand.
"As I was saying, Eli, you'll love the family. Just wait till you meet..."
'Oh dear God, end me already!' the young man screamed in his mind. 'And who the hell is Eli?!'