Cyrus
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WAKA WAKA time for a Cyrus post yay it’s only been like months right (sorry sorry)
btw, he’s kind of... i dunno. The format of his posts are going to be weird until I figure out who he is, y’know? So like, in this... the random italics are as if he’s talking to someone. Like in the future, he’s telling this story. But yeah. I dunno. Just act like he’s breaking the fourth wall, he’s so smart. ^-^”
THANK YOU HIMEDERE FOR BEING A LAMB AND HELPING ME WITH CAM <3
btw the title is a chess term
it has to do with the bishop (Which can symbolize taking “the path of the head or the heart”)
and yeah
idk
chess
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I suppose it was the years I spent in a tiny jail cell that made my stay beneath the Corners’ mansion bearable. But it was likely my imprisonment that gave me the agonizing nightmares, too.
I’d dream of my cell, the walls closing in, while Griffin looked in through the barred window, screaming as fire licked his back, his wings.
Most nights, I chose not to sleep rather than face my own mind.
Though I was originally greeted with animosity, the hatred-filled feelings seemed to dissipate over a month’s time. I wasn’t like the others. I wasn’t their friend. But they no longer slid me accusatory glares. No one intentionally took a different path to their rooms just to avoid me. We were living in a state of tolerant harmony. And I was completely fine with that.
Weeks passed. I did all I could to help Charlie in his endeavors to rid these poor souls of whatever burdened them. Some were unfortunate; because they were early experiments, the alterations were permanent. But others were lucky. They freed themselves—not entirely, but just enough to be comfortable again.
But the dreaded day was fast approaching. There would be a confrontation, of that I was certain. We couldn’t hide in the shelter forever. It was improbable. It was impossible.
Though I knew I was growing stronger physically—the surplus of food was astounding—I felt weaker in spirit. Griffin seemed to be wasting away. I couldn’t bear it. But I couldn’t force myself to speak out.
What right had I to confront him? I was the cause of this all. Indirectly so, true. Regardless, it was my idea that created this mess. And I was more than willing to die to clean it up.
Oh. Did that slip out?
A kingdom of isolation stole away my will to live. But it was my own mind that took away my desire to live.
I refused to confess that, naturally; if my brother were to ever hear of my thoughts... I’d rather not humor the idea.
But I’m monologuing again, aren’t I? Apologies. I do try to break free of that, but after years with no one but myself... Sorry. I’ll try to keep that from happening again. I can’t make any promises, however.
The dining area was always a populous one. It’s one of the few places I often saw the members of this club relax a bit, smiling and carrying on as if everyone were as normal. But each and every one of them grew solemn after time. I watched. I noted it. Some held on longer than others. And most didn’t do it for themselves.
They were so selfless. How could I have ever been so selfish?
During my time in the Corners’ hideaway, I thought. I sat in my room until dawn, roamed about, then thought some more. I was desperate for answers. I was desperate for some means of a solution.
They—we—needed to win against X.L., but to do so, we needed all the help we could get.
So it came as a surprise when Akira brought a new idea to the table—quite literally. She proposed a chip to increase speed in slower members. I took the design back to my room to make some edits—a chip that periodically administers harmless, carefully-constructed steroids to enhance only certain limbs, which would certainly be a daunting task.
Then I proceeded to the lab. It was a makeshift one, with a few shelves installed and one drippy faucet, but it held all the materials a lab needed. The air in it was less judgemental. But maybe that was just me.
I tapped the light switch. A dusty bulb flickered before illuminating the room. Beakers and bottles were strewn about, but my work station—a small, two-by-two space where a lined notebook, a pen, and a set of ten sparkling test tubes were positioned—was neat and orderly. Just as I liked it. Just as I needed it.
After sitting down at my station, I opened the notebook to a new page and began some plans. Chemical compounds would be a difficult nut to crack, and the construction of a metallic surface able to properly conduct— Oh, sorry. I won’t bore you with the science. I understand.
Time passed. A long time. Maybe no time at all. Whatever the case, I woke up with my face on the table and a piece of paper stuck to my forehead. There was a knock at the open door.
“Hey, Dr. Alatum,” called a sweet voice, “it’s a little late so I brought you some
—” When she paused, I forced my eyes open. Camilla Evergreene stood in the doorway, two steaming cups of an unidentifiable hot beverage in her hands. “Dr. Alatum? Are you alright?” She moved closer so she stood just two feet from my station. Setting the mugs down, she said, “Can you hear me? Do you have control of your muscles? Tap your finger twice if yes, once if no. Errr.... keep it still if no.”
I sat up with a yawn I tried to cover. “I’m fine, Dr. Evergreene. Thank you for your concern.” White flapped in my peripheral vision, and cheeks flushing, I peeled the paper from my face. “Ah... What brings you to the lab at this hour?”
“I just couldn’t sleep, and I assumed you weren’t sleeping either,” she said. “It’s Chamomile, by the way.” Without another word, she began sifting through my papers. I only stared. “Isn’t it a bit late to be working on... I don’t know, science things?”
Furrowing my brows, I made to take back the papers then froze. My hands found their home on my lap. “It’s never too late for science,” I said, deadly seriously. Her lips twitched. “Akira gave me a task, and I... I can’t let her down. I...” I swallowed. “Sorry. I uh... I just... Enough people have seen me as the enemy already. I don’t need to reinforce that belief again.” I nearly smacked myself in the face. “Sorry. I don’t know why I’m raving this late.”
She lifted her mug to her lips and took a long sip. “Ah, well.” Her back arched as she squinted at the sheet of paper in her hand. “It is a bit late to be raving, isn’t it? Ah... Dr. Alatum? Exactly what purpose are these chippy things serving?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, massaged my temples. “At the moment, nothing. I can’t get the design to work like I want it to. Akira proposed it. It’s supposed to increase speed, not strength, in select weaker areas of the body. I thought I was up to the challenge.” With a long sigh, I let my forehead meet the tabletop again with a heavy thud. “Evidently not.”
She pursed her lips and slid the untouched mug toward me. "Well, Doctor, in my humble opinion-- and I do stress the humbleness extensively—I would not venture to guess such a contraption to be feasible. Aesthetics—is that the word—such as speed are more of a thing you would have to train for, like hand-eye coordination. Adrenaline for sure is a good component, but it's worth noting the body only creates a certain amount at a given point for a reason..."
Releasing the papers from her hold, she whipped around to face me. "You look too stressed to be working so hard so late."
“Nonsense. I’m perfectly fine.” As I reached for the mug, I pondered her words. She had a point. It was completely illogical, but... “I have to try,” I said. “I’ve got a prototype already.” I held it up: a square centimeter of interbred technology and biology between thumb and index. “All that’s left is to test it out.” I licked my lips. “Would you mind spotting me? Just in case something goes wrong.”
“You’re going to test it on yourself?” Her words were fast, blurred, as if she herself didn’t realize she spoke them. Then she blinked, and her eyes fell to the chip. “Yes, of course I’ll help you.”
“Wonderful,” I said, “then let’s get started.” I efficiently hooking the chip to the tender skin of my ankle within a minute’s time. I braced myself. For a few moments, nothing happened. I assumed I’d fluked out. Tapping the surface, I said, “Pity. The effects were meant to be instantaneo—”
Then came the surge. Energy, adrenaline, serotonin, though I hadn’t consciously mixed any in. I stood, unable to remain seated. The world was suddenly in slow motion, and I was supersonic.
“Dr. Alatum?” Camilla’s voice was sluggish, watery. “How do you feel?”
“Like I could actually run a mile. God, I haven’t felt this great since I was a kid, Dr. Evergreene. I feel strong, healthy, whole.” A laugh bubbled from my throat. “God, this is wonderful. I feel like I could run two miles, maybe three. Hell, let’s shoot for a marath—oh.” I stumbled. A lump had formed in my throat. My nose burned. When I looked down to my quaking hands, every vein there stood out, prominent against the pale flesh. I couldn’t hear the breath passing through my lips, but I could feel it rattling in my lungs. As for my heart...
A hummingbird’s heart beats at 1400 beats per minute. The fastest a human heart can safely beat is the age of the individual subtracted from 220 (on a rough scale). That being said, my heart should never have gone over about 195 bpm. If I’d watched the clock correctly, my heart beat 400 times in a minute.
I gasped, clutching my chest with my left hand. “Cam—Dr. Evergreen.”
“Cyrus?”
My eyes fluttered, but I struggled to keep a grip on consciousness. My right hand gripped the tabletop as I sank into my chair. Mouth agape like a fish struggling to suck oxygen from dry air, I could no longer see anything but Camilla’s face, nor could I feel anything but the quivering of my heart.
“Help. Please.”
I don’t know how she did it so quickly, but the chip was pried from my skin. I didn’t care about the fresh wound. The instant oxygen slid down my throat, I greedily breathed it in, and as my heart slowed, I hunched forward, closing my eyes.
A gentle hand found its place on my shoulder. “Dr. Alatum? Can you hear me?” I nodded weakly. “Do you need a hospital?” I vigorously shook my head. She laughed. “Good to know you’re still fighting fit.” She squeezed, then knelt to tend to my ankle.
When I finally returned to my state of acceptable health, I dropped my hand from my chest and said, “Don’t try the chips.”
“Too salty?”
“Heart attack material,” I tried to joke, dramatically grasping my chest. I then scribbled some notes down, crossed off my sketch of the chip, and laid my head on my arms.
“So what now?” she asked. “What are you going to do?”
“What makes sense,” I said. “I’ve got to talk to Akira. Instead of trying to alter those who aren’t fast, we can use the fastest. Everyone’s got strengths, right?” She nodded. “Right. We just have to figure out how to utilize them all without... without uh...”
“Getting anyone killed?”
I grimaced. “Yes.”
“Sounds like a plan,” she said.
“Thanks for the help,” I said, pushing away from the tabletop and heading for the door. “I... I kind of owe you my life.”
She lifted an eyebrow as I walked past. “‘Kind of’?”
Flushing, I averted my eyes. “I do owe it to you. Thank you.”
“It was my pleasure, Dr. Alatum.”
Our stares met again. “I suggest getting some sleep.”
“I’d say the same, but by the looks of you, that’s not going to happen,” she said.
I looked down. “You are truly smarter than what you give yourself credit for. Sleep well, Dr. Evergreene. And thanks for the tea.” And the company, I almost said.
“Take it easy, Cyrus Augustus.”
I glanced at the clock. Nearly three in the morning. With a sigh, I fled the room. The lab disappeared behind me. It was late, but the idle sounds of distant chatter still reached my ears. Not many members were still awake, but the ones who were spoke without a care, laughing as if intoxicated. Perhaps they were. It wasn’t my place to judge.
At some point, I became too wrapped up in my thoughts. I couldn’t find Akira, so I decided to construct some options. This proved to be moronic when a loud voice shouted, “Oi, Cyrus!” directly into my ear.
With a yelp, I jumped high into the air, leaning heavily against the wall when my feet touched the ground again. A woman with a head of fire stared back at me, one eyebrow raised. “Wreaking havoc this early?”
“Ela, correct?” I said, forcing my mind into a calm state.
She nodded. “Yeah. You’re the brainiac—one of them, anyway. Dragonboy’s long lost bro.”
Sheepish, I offered a quick, unconvincing smile. “That’s me.”
“Didja just get up?”
I shook my head. “Haven’t gotten to sleep yet.”
Cocking an eyebrow, she leaned back, lifting her chin. “It’s getting a bit late to head to bed, Cyrus.”
“Well,” I said with a shrug, “I’m used to it.”
Her tongue flicked the inside of her cheek. “You’re kinda weird, you know that?”
“What else would you expect,” I said, my voice harsher than I’d intended it to be, “from a prisoner, Avian?” I licked my lips and added, softer now, “Is it really so surprising?”
“Nope,” she said. “But you’re still weird.”
“It’s because I like science, isn’t it?”
“Science is the work of the devil.”
A smile found its place on my fave, brief as it was. “Believe me. I know.”
“Well,” she said, waving over her shoulder as she turned away, “I think I’m gonna go grab some grub.” She paused, then looked back at me. “Wanna join me?”
For a moment, I humored the thought. But with a shake of my head, I said, “I’m afraid I don’t have much of an appetite.”
She shrugged. “Suit yourself. See ya ’round.”
As she scampered off, I sighed. I was never good at making friends. At best, I made enemies with ease.
God, what if Ela hated me?
A small form bumped into my elbow, and with a yawn, she muttered an apology.
Craning my neck to see who it was, I saw Karin, eyes half shut and hair frizzy, swaying on her feet. “It’s alright, Karin. What are you doing up so early?”
“Just ah...” She shook her head, sending blonde fibres flying about her face. “I was ah... headed to the...” Distantly, she waved a hand in a small circle.
“Bathroom?” I offered, to which she nodded. “Well, you passed that already. About twenty feet ago. You’re almost to the control room, Karin.”
She blinked, her eyes then opening wide. “Wha—? Oh. It’s too early for this.”
“It’s never too early for an adventure,” Violett chirped, appearing like a magician’s assistant between us. I managed not to squeal like a small child. “But I never knew you to be morning people.”
“I’m not,” Karin said groggily.
I shrugged. “This is still night for me. A very, very late night.”
“I’ll say,” Violett said, giggling. “Whatdya say we check out the surveillance while we’re down here? Maybe there’s a lost tourists! Or a wanted murderer. Or—”
“I don’t know...” The idea was criminal.
Violett pouted. “Oh, come on. Don’t be a party pooper like Griffy is.” That stung. Every piece of it did. I was the book-smart twin. He had always been emotionally and socially advanced for his age. Parties, I assumed, were more his style.
I licked my lips. “Fine. Let’s check it out.”
But when we entered, we weren’t alone. A very tired Akira darted between screens.
“Anything I can help with?”
She didn’t seem to hear me.
Then we saw the girl on the screen, limping, bleeding, possibly dying.
“Who is she, Akira?” asked Karin.
But Akira didn’t know the answer. “I... I don’t know, but we’ve got to help her. Violett, get bandages right now.”
“Her name,” I said, drawing all eyes in the room to me, “is Kiyoko. And...” I paused, debating how to finish the thought. “And she’s Hiraku’s daughter.”
At first, the expression on Akira and Karin’s faces were identical masks of horror, but Akira’s quickly morphed into fury. “We can’t let her in.”
“She’s injured. It looks like it could be fatal if it isn’t treated,” I argued. “Please, Akira. She isn’t her father. I know. There’s good in her heart. I promise. You can kill me if I’m wrong.”
Akira licked her lips before saying, “Alright. I suggest we get ready. She’s going to fall through any second now. The last thing we need is a dead witness to X.L.’s atrocities.”
When the hatch opened and the petite girl’s body tumbled down, we were ready. Her eyes fluttered open, and dazedly, she looked about. Her eyes fell on me and instantly widened. “Cyrus...?” A small breath wheezed out of her mouth, and she fell limp.
“Oh, God,” Karin said, hands clutched the fabric at the neck of her t-shirt.
“Is she dead?” asked Akira.
I checked her pulse. “Unconscious. It’s perfect. We need to work quickly.” Violett burst into the room, her arms overflowing with first aid supplies. I pointed to her. “Akira, clean the wound. It’s pretty bad, judging by the amount of blood, but the bleeding appears to have stopped enough that I know her body is functioning just fine.” Akira stared at me for a moment. “Yes, I’m giving orders, Akira—you’ll eventually forgive me—but right now, a life is at stake.”
“Right,” she said with a short nod, immediately getting to work.
I monitored Kiyoko’s breathing and gave instructions as Karin and Violett watched on. It took only fifteen minutes to completely clean and bandage the wound, and with sincerity, I thanked the girls.
When Kiyoko started to come to, I motioned for them to step back. Akira seemed ready to argue, but she did as I asked. The girl under our care exhaled softly then opened her opalescent eyes. As she moved her arms up so she could rub her eyes, the rainbow feathers there shifted, fluttering, refracting the light.
“Cyrus,” she said levelly. “You can’t imagine how happy I am to see you.”
“What are you doing here?” Akira blurted, stepping forward. Kiyoko cowered back. I stared at the werewolf.
Offhandedly, I said, “Akira, please. She’s frightened. She’s hurt. Let me speak to her.” Akira blinked, her eyes shifting back and forth. “Please.
“Fine!” she said, throwing up her hands. “Come on, Karin, Violett. Let them talk.”
They followed her out. I turned back to Kiyoko.
“Thanks,” she said. I nodded. “I suppose I should explain myself.”
“Whatever you’re comfortable with,” I said, hesitantly taking her hand. She didn’t object. She was one to be comforted by physical contact, then. “Don’t feel obligated to share everything right now. You’re weak.”
She took a shaky breath. “I’m fine. I made a mistake in trying to escape so close to... to...” Choked up, she pressed a fist to her lips. I patted her hand. “X.L. isn’t finished with you. They’re angrier than ever before. You’d be wise to watch your backs.”
“We know,” I said. “Believe me. We know.”
“You don’t know. That’s why I came,” she said. “My father came to the head of X.L. last night. He proposed a solution to their problems. A permanent solution. An organized slaughter.” Kiyoko paused again, gritting her teeth and placing a hand against her side.
“They’re going to attack,” I said, ice piercing my heart. You know, through all I’d been through, I’ve never been more afraid than at that moment. Perhaps it was because I actually had something to lose. I had several things to lose. And it scared the hell out of me that I could lose them all at once. “When?”
“Soon.”
“But when?” She flinched. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
Smiling weakly, she shook her head. “It’s fine, Cyrus. It’ll very soon, though. Perhaps in the next few months. They want to be rid of you all by the summer.”
“So they’re going to kill off all their experiments? All their successes?”
“Not all of them,” she said sadly. “Unfortunately, this club of yours never reached all the successful stage II experiments.” Her voice dropped. “You have no idea how many are out there, Cyrus. There are... so, so many.”
“How do we stop X.L.?” I asked, insistent.
Looking down, she said, “You know as well as I that their forces are far greater than yours. You are but a hodgepodge handful against a trained army.”
“There must be something,” I said desperately.
For a moment, she paused, her eyes growing misty. Her tongue flicked out to lick her lower lip then retreated, and her hand clasped atop her stomach.
“There is one major flaw in X.L.’s design,” she said warily.
I thought for a moment when she didn’t speak. She couldn’t mean us, so what else could there b— “The other experiments.”
She nodded. “The ones still locked up, still undergoing treatment. They’re still sentient. They understand. And they’re all so, so very angry.”
“What about them?” I prompted.
“Their cells, the containment units, are all powered by a single mainframe. If it were powered down, the locks would be disabled, and they would be given a chance to escape and take their revenge.”
Biting my lip, I rested my elbows on my knees. “I assume that mainframe is pretty secure.”
“It requires a key.” She grinned wickedly.
I smiled. “But I’m guessing you have the key?”
“My father may be a smart man,” she said, sitting up straighter, “but he is blinded by his arrogance. He thought I would be his little girl forever.” Her lips settled into a sullen frown. “He was wrong.”
Knees popping, I rose to my feet. “May I see the key?”
Her eyebrows furrowed. “Dr. Alatum—”
“Please,” I said, wincing as I held up a hand, “call me Cyrus.”
“—Cyrus, the key isn’t visible. Surely you understand.”
Akira poked her head around the corner. “The key’s invisible?” Her eyes slid to me, pleading. “Cyrus, come on. We’re wasting time.”
I shifted my jaw and made a “shoo” motion with both hands. To Kiyoko, I said, “I’m afraid I’m lost.”
“Don’t you remember? When you were brought to the mansion, do you remember what you said about me?”
“I questioned your father’s intended design,” I said. “I thought you looked like a...” My eyes widened. “A Siren.”
Nodding, she giggled. “Ah, Cyrus, you don’t disappoint.”
“So the key is—”
“A musical one,” she finished. “B sharp, actually.”
I pursed my lips. “High note.”
“I can reach them all, Cyrus,” she said, tapping her throat. “Reinforced vocal chords. Painful, but effective.”
Staring into her eyes—it was probably a very uncomfortable experience for her, but I couldn’t stop—I said, “Thank you, Kiyoko. Truly, you have already helped us more than we could have ever imagined.”
“I just want peace,” she said, eyes glistening, “and justice. X.L. needs to be stopped. It’s caused so much pain...”
I placed a hand over hers. “I know. We’ll stop them when you’re fighting fit again.” We shared a smile, and after patting her hand, I said, “Get some rest,” and headed for the door.
“So?” Akira said.
“We’ve got another asset.”
“Really?”
I gave a tight-lipped smile. “You’ve got to trust me, Akira. The day is coming soon. You’ve been training so much, and it’s definitely paying off. But you need a plan.”
“We’re working on it.”
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Yay. ;) Comments are very much appreciated, guys!
ALSO
YAY
PLOT DEVELOPMENT
YAY
KINDA
CYRUS
WAT R U DOIN
(also sidenote Kiyoko is the girl who drove the car/truck/thing when Cyrus was brought to the mansion. She's Hiraku's daughter.)
