"Mornin kid, interesting sleeping position you got going there."
Cassian's body was instinctively on guard upon hearing the jovial voice that entered the room, remembering the emotional manipulation experienced at the hands of Dawn. interestingly enough, this reaction was only the instincts of his body. His 'soul' that had just returned from the astral world seemed to now be separated by an invisible barrier, forced to spectate his own self from the third person.
He had influence over the bodies actions, an accurate imitation of control even- but... it seemed like the one sitting on the floor was no longer him. Apparently the "Rejection by the laws of reality" had already begun.
Not as if there is anything i can do to stop it, even if i wanted to.
and he didn't want to stop it- what was keeping him tied to this miserable place?
The fresh face within the cell was a rather portly man whose hair had discovered an entirely new number on the norwood scale. Combining that with a height not much taller than his own- it made quite a comical image. The individual looked more like a shiny bowling ball than a human.
Adorning this bowling ball was a greasy white coat, sagging loosely around his shoulders. All in all, he portrayed an entirely different energy to the facade of perfection championed by the city above.
*THWACK*
Perhaps sensing the mockery in Cassian's eye, the man stumbled over to where he sat on the floor and proceeded to boot him in the stomach. Knocking the air entirely out of his body.
"Whatcha lookin' at so intensely?"
He spat over Cassian's writhing figure as his body recovered its breath, staining the already water-soaked trousers with the blackened stench of tobacco.
"That'll wake you up."
The portly man gave him a toothy grin, his eyes betraying a macabre hostility. His shoulder seemed to glow faintly. With the knowledge he now carried, Cassian's mind was able to jump to several conclusions.
Another marked. Different color glow- new abilities?
Is the person behind those eyes in control? Or is this unfair hostility from the mark's ego?
At this point, it's not like Cassian's actions mattered beyond simply staying alive. The chains of fate had already begun to banish him from this plane of existence. Providing an escape from this hellscape for good.
What would happen then... he did not know.
Making a split-second decision, Cassian opted to play the fool. He allowed his bodies features to faintly morph into a facsimile of fear, pretending to cower down. Seeing this, the man made a childish pout.
"That's no fun! Where's the fight in you?!"
Cassian was able to make out the color emanating from the man's arm as a crimson red. From the shape of the glow- its source must have been located close to the shoulder.
Briefly mulling it over, he decided to test out an earlier theory- pointing to his arm shrouded in chains.
"Are you.. Also someone cursed by this?"
The false stammer in his voice was far from believable, but the man's arrogant demeanor would likely never reveal the deception. While he spoke, Cassian steadfastly held his eyes over the location of the crimson light.
"Whatcurseyouonaboutimblesseditellyoublessedyouungratefullittleshit"
A flurry of words flew out without any pauses. The man seemed to instantly flip a switch, becoming unreasonably angry. As he did, the seething luminescence grew into an angry inferno, cascading across the collarbone towards his plump face.
Bingo. The same reaction as before.
Dawn had viably suffered at the hands of the mark while conveying the story of Icarus's demise- Only seeming to recover full autonomy over himself upon exclaiming he could not speak about it any longer.
And now, at the mention of the mark being akin to a curse, the specimen of a human in front of him devolved into an intense rage.
Cassian could have very easily been in the exact same position.
I hope I meet her again. If she's the one standing between me and this fate...
A genuine guardian angel.
Weirdly enough, these thoughts seemed to provoke a reaction. In an action far divorced from the hostility showcased in front of him, a soft vibration emanated from the mark on his arm, almost like it was gently purring.
Cassian, feeling a sliver of hope, threw a question into the void of his mind.
Are you watching?
…
…
Are you still there?
…
…
Well… thank you. Thank you for everything you are doing for me.
…
…
I never got your name.
…
…
…
[...Aria]
An exceedingly soft, pained voice resonated within his mind. Unlike his own thoughts, which unilaterally echoed around the center of his being- this seemed to travel an inconceivable distance from some place very far away, speaking directly into his soul.
Hearing the pain held within that voice, Cassian let out a mournful smile. He didn't even know anything about the woman- yet she was going through hell for him.
Thank you, Aria.
—---------------------------------
*Huff* *Huff*
Bringing him back to reality, the man was gasping for air. By the looks of it, the crimson mark had once again retreated to the safe haven of his shoulder. Smoldering hostility continuing to radiate around them both.
"Watch your mouth brat"
The man spat, glaring daggers into him. In one smooth motion, he reached into the greased coat and drew out a bizarre-looking key.
"He wants to see you. Thank him for me not killing you right here, right now."
In a divergence from his previous personality, a strange reverence was put into these words. Cassian's instincts kicked in, screaming at him that whatever he was being taken to meet was dangerous beyond belief. They had to be- to hold control over people with such malevolent power.
An all too familiar pressure attacked his senses, plunging him once again into darkness.
However, this time, it did not shut out his senses completely. His body's were shut off, yes, but that stopped at the invisible line that had been drawn between his body and soul. This new phenomenon gained after leaving the astral world provided him with a new vision.
Well, It wasn't vision in the traditional sense. Instead, tendrils of silent energy resonated around him, building an accurate depiction of the surroundings. This ambient power fed information straight to his soul. Completely bypassing his now crippled body.
Fumbling with his key-ring, the obese man removed seven separate shackles from his arm, revealing a shocking sight.
The mark had changed.
It was burning.
There was no longer any subtlety in its glow. Where the cascading lines intersected with the borders of his pale skin, tendrils of azure energy spread outwards forming an accurate imitation of human veins. Cassian watched these new veins pulsate steadily in a rhythm synced to his heartbeat.
He was hauled up to his feet, a pudgy hand grasping him by the back of the collar to lead him out of the decrepit cell.
Unsurprisingly, the hallway did not boast much better conditions. A thin stone corridor stretched out ahead of them- lined with the decay of time. Small runes etched into its walls excluding a weak glow, not being enough to provide complete radiance of the area.
Cassian's "Soul Eyes" did not convey light in a meaningful way; instead, he was able to differentiate its presence by how the energy dancing around him felt.
Where was this power earlier!
Something extremely unsettling to him was that no one else was present within this prison. Each cell he passed had an open door, nothing but air being held within. Was it a prison solely for those with "Unknown marks" as Dawn had put it?
If that were the case, the labyrinth analogy makes even more sense.
Reaching the conclusion of the lonely corridor, they arrived at an open area with a single staircase leading upwards. This room differed greatly from the dingy cell he was held in, giving him the same sense of grandeur given off by the city above. Additionally, the shape of the open space irked him.
Another Half moon.
The ever-present crescent had returned. Cassian wondered why his cell was the only room not featuring this symbolism- perhaps he was not worthy of it?
He was led to a tiny room off to one side. The space seemed to close off behind them as they entered, isolating him with his captor. The rotund man he still didn't know the name of reached to one side, holding his hands over a dim screen on the wall.
In an action that lasted a split second, Cassian felt reality bend around them. The experience was similar to entering the astral world. But this… seemed to target his body instead of his soul. Cassians senses told him they had moved a great distance in an instant. But around them remained the same claustrophobic room.
Teleportation?
It seemed like the only valid explanation. After everything Cassian had experienced in the previous couple of days, it didn't seem that far-fetched a concept.
His bodies faculties gradually restored themselves, the suppression being released. Cassian returned to navigating through his eyes, noticing the stark difference in the amount of information being fed to him. It was a downgrade really.
Rubbing his face with an annoyed grimace, he looked up at the man. Voicing his thoughts.
"Teleportation??"
But no response came. His captor was staring straight into the door of the room, sweat dripping down his disgusting face. Cassian could have sworn that he could feel the air in the room dropping rapidly.
The doors began to open, revealing something beyond human comprehension.