by Phoenix | Nov 26, 2021 | FV, Pinned, Short Stories
The Door
Doctor Gil and the ghosts weren’t five steps from the warehouse when another Cordaean artillery shell came down. He must have had his eyes covered just a moment too long; when he looked around he was alone again. The doctor quickly ran over to a container near the side entrance to the warehouse and hunkered down. He didn’t know where he was supposed to go from there, but if the ghosts were serious about taking him away, Gil wouldn’t have to wait long for guidance. He made doubly sure not to ignore anything strange happening on the ground nearby or at his feet. It was a faint mana trail that led him toward the warehouse to begin with.
“My day is only going to get worse, isn’t it?” Gil muttered to himself. Normally it was the suffering of his insufferable colleagues and the elitists in his camp that amused the doctor. He couldn’t help but find his own situation a bit comical, even if it was becoming increasingly morbid by the moment. Between all the death and violence surrounding him was an honest attempt to use his knowledge for something good. He knew that the Crimson Tide Project had the ultimate potential of turning the curses of the malevan lifeforms infesting the world into a blessing for the masses, but there were many steps and phases required to get to that point. One obstacle after another hindered him, and now the Calmans, the people that were by far the least receptive to malevan research, were making off with him and everything relating to it. Gil didn’t know enough about their intentions to be sure of anything yet, but that ignorance was the only thing left giving him any hope for the project.
Doctor Gil wasn’t waiting long in the end. He noticed a faint blue light at his feet. It started moving as soon as it had his attention, leaving behind a hazy, fleeting trail of mana. Gil followed it, making sure to keep himself low and hunched over. It wasn’t good for his back, but he didn’t want anyone to notice him sneaking around in the middle of the battle. He could barely see anything as he followed the ghost trail toward the western side of Fort Baldi.
Once Gil made it safely past the various containers, the small blue light he was following nearly left him behind. He had no choice but to pick himself up and start running after it full tilt to keep up. Gil didn’t know what was going on, but he thought calling out to it to slow down would be useless, and taking the opportunity to run away might be just as useless, probably even dangerous. The light was leading him toward a small building that appended the inner western wall. Doctor Gil rarely toured Fort Baldi, only being familiar with the HQ building and a few others nearby, so he didn’t know what was inside the small structure or what its purpose was. Maybe it was a convenient storehouse or an armory for the guards manning the walls. The light led him right up to the entrance, and just as he arrived, the door cracked open. It was completely dark inside.
“Where are you taking me?” Gil asked.
Instead of an answer, the doctor felt someone running up behind him. He couldn’t turn in time and was tackled through the door, which promptly shut behind them.
“Don’t ask questions,” Shark said, rising up off of the doctor, “just follow.”
Gil was in far too much pain to respond at first, letting out a confused groan.
“That the doctor?”
Gil glanced toward the new voice and saw a fourth ghost, or at least what he thought was a ghost. The fourth was the most unusual of the bunch. He was dressed just like the others, but he was unmasked, a young dirty blonde with a notably thicker Calman accent than Shark. The doctor wasn’t expecting to ever see one of their faces. Depending on what they intended to do with him, that could be a very bad thing.
“It’s him,” the leader said.
Gil looked to see him with one hand on the door handle and the other holding the doctor’s briefcase with his samples and all his research materials.
“Sable, how’s your mask?” Red asked the fourth, unmasked ghost. It seemed like all of the ghosts had short, pointed code names.
“Well,” Sable shrugged and tossed the damaged equipment over to Red, “if we didn’t have tools at the base, I’d say damage is total. I can’t fix it here. Goggles took some shrapnel, the filter is broken, and the power supply is leaking. I’m lucky that blast didn’t break my neck.”
“And you’re sure the only one who saw your face was Sandoval?”
“Her and this madman,” Sable gestured at the doctor. “I don’t know how we’re supposed to deal with her. She left to fight the armas, already. At least he’s not going anywhere.”
Gil almost looked away defensively. Was he not supposed to see any of them unmasked, then? Why was he forced into this situation? “That wasn’t my fault. I didn’t mean to-” “Relax, Doctor,” the leader of the ghosts gently cut him off.
Shark grabbed Gil and hauled him up to his feet. “If we wanted you dead, you would be.”
“Then can I ask what you plan to do with me?” Gil pleaded. He wasn’t expecting it to work this time, but these men clearly weren’t a bunch of a sadistic thugs, enjoying the stress the doctor was under. Surely the leader had at least one sympathetic bone in his body. “I understand that you won’t tell me where we’re going, but will you at least tell me what you intended to do with any test subjects you ‘extracted’ from Fort Baldi? You can at least tell me that much, can’t you?”
Shark and the fourth ghost glanced at their leader.
The doctor waited, his eyes still pleading.
After a long moment, the first ghost said, “We’re not taking you out of here just to harm you, Doctor.”
His words felt sincere. Gil even detected some of the sympathy he was looking for in their leader’s tone. Even so, he was being unhelpfully vague, and no doubt on purpose. The doctor doubted he would be getting anything even approaching a clearer picture until they were safely back at whatever base the ghosts were using. “So, where I’m going, it won’t matter that I’ve seen one of your faces, but I’m not going to be harmed. It sounds like I’m off to a Calig prison.” No, Gil mentally corrected himself. “More likely a black site.”
“Cheer up, Doctor,” Shark said, clearly amused by something or other, “At least you’re not going to die. Maybe you’ll even get some real answers if you cooperate.”
Gil turned to Shark, trying to make some kind of eye contact, but the blue light from the ghost’s goggles was as much a wall for the ghosts to sit behind as the masks they wore. The doctor felt like he was staring into the void itself. There was more to their attire than he first realized. Even unmasked, there was something off about Sable, something the doctor couldn’t quite place. It felt like the distance he would have to cross to truly understand these four men was almost infinite. Were they really prudens at all?
“The shelling stopped,” Red said, looking toward the ceiling.
“… so it has,” the leader affirmed.
“Door’s still open,” Sable said, making for the far side of the room they were in.
The door on the other side should lead to the inside of the fortress walls, by Doctor Gil’s own estimation. He had some theories coming together about how they were going to escape. Most Calmans had a significant vas ancestry, which gave them innate abilities with Destruction magic. To what degree they could wield it came down to just how much vas blood ran in their veins. Considering that these four men were Blue Ghosts, and not ‘ordinary irregulars,’ Gil suspected they were all true bloods, vas with enough genetic purity to have the highest potential in Destruction magic possible.
Add on to that power their special training and conditioning, and these men wouldn’t really see a fortress wall as an obstacle. If anything, it was something they could use to trap or bar others. Gil imagined that one of the ghosts had made a convenient tunnel just large enough for Shark to drag him through. If not, they could always make one now, but the doctor heard something from the leader of the ghosts, earlier. He heard him ask if a door was open. He didn’t know what it meant, but it sounded like code, a way to reference their escape route. When Sable opened that door, the other ghosts began to follow, and Shark gave Doctor Gil a light shove to get him moving. Whether figurative or literal, the door was still open, and at some point soon, they were all going to step through it.
“You can’t be serious.” Doctor Gil barely managed to get the words out.
“Try to roll when you land so you don’t break your legs,” Shark warned as he leaned over the ledge they were standing on.
“Sorry, Doctor,” the leader of the ghosts said, “but the safest way down is to jump. The Municans haven’t cleared out this vein yet, so there are still crystals everywhere.”
“I noticed,” Gil said wearily.
They were in a large subterranean tunnel. The Calmans and the Cordaeans referred to them as crimson veins, due to the monsters that created them, as well as the deep red mana crystals that grew out of the walls years after their passing. The Arenas Desert was full of tunnels just like these, both new and old, and none of them safe to be in for long thanks to those crystals. They were supposedly corrupted, though that meant different things to different people. Doctor Gil had no idea there was a tunnel like this running beneath the western wall of Fort Baldi. That brought whatever network this tunnel was a part of entirely too close to Fort Baldi’s underground facilities. The doctor supposed the higher ups wouldn’t want that kind of information leaked, not before they could bury the tunnel or otherwise secure it.
“Do not touch the crystals. Don’t even graze them.”
“What’s a vein doing here in the first place? How did you find out about it?” Gil asked while he looked for a relatively safe spot to land. He was coming up short until Sable leaped down. That was when he realized just how high up they really were. He thought the tunnel was only fifty feet high at most, but it was actually closer to a hundred. His twenty-foot leap was starting to look closer to forty. “I … there is no way I can do this.”
“I’ll catch him,” Sable called up to the group, “Just jump down here. Aim right where I’m standing. You’ll be alright.”
“I don’t want to hear that from the one ghost that lost his mask,” Gil blurted out. He realized too late that he was getting too familiar with his captors. Just because Sable was unmasked, a young, mostly harmless looking man, didn’t mean he was any less dangerous than their leader, or Red, or even Shark. If he was with them, he had to be dangerous. His damaged mask spoke more to his endurance than anything, now that the doctor was considering the situation.
“Harsh. I’ll remember that,” Sable smirked.
“Hurry up and go,” Shark shoved Gil again, nearly over the edge, this time.
“C-careful! And do you honestly expect me to jump after what he just said?” Gil tried to steady himself as he turned to the leader. “You, commander or whatever you are, isn’t there another way?”
“Vesper,” the leader of the ghosts corrected, “Just trust Sable and don’t touch the crystals.”
Red leaped down, and he stuck the landing effortlessly.
Shark was next, and rather than aim away from one of the crystalline spikes, he wrapped his body in destruction magic and plowed through it on his way down, reducing half of the corrupted mana to dust.
“Get a running start. You’ll be fine,” Vesper promised.
The doctor stepped away from the ledge and tried to find as much room as he could. He tried to keep an eye on where Sable was. Vesper stood there waiting, which Gil realized was specifically to keep him from running the other way. The ghosts would need time to get back up to the ledge if they had to chase him down, so their leader would be the last one to jump, once the doctor was accounted for. They weren’t taking any chances, it seemed.
Gil took a deep breath once he was ready, and started running toward the end of the ledge as fast and as hard as he could. All the aches and pains from that evening came roaring back to try and hinder him, but he powered through with the knowledge that he would probably be gravely injured, above and beyond anything else he’d endured if he didn’t do this right. Fear and adrenaline carried him through the air as he leaped over the ledge. He didn’t see Vesper running just behind him or leaping after him, so he was startled when the man’s hand pressed firmly against his back and then shoved him even further forward.
The doctor cried out as he reached the height of his leap and began to fall. Gil thought he was on target, but he didn’t really know for certain. He only saw Sable and the others waiting for him just beyond the red, faintly glowing outgrowths he was trying so hard not to impale himself on. Just before he came crashing down, a cloud of blue mana erupted, seemingly out of the ground, and Gil fell into it. His landing was so thoroughly cushioned by the energies the ghosts had put out, the doctor didn’t even notice his feet hit the ground. He found himself sitting back with his arms supporting him when the cloud of mana cleared. All four of them, Vesper, Shark, Red, and Sable, were standing there over him, ready to press on.
Doctor Gil picked himself up and asked, “How much farther, and how did you know about this place?”
“The same way most people find out about them,” Sable said, “strange seismic activity and a marked increase in worm sightings.”
“The Municans probably knew about this vein,” Red noted, “but they haven’t cleared out the crystals recently.”
Shark sighed as he took in more of their surroundings. “This vein goes north right into Munica itself, so they’re probably using it for something. Can’t be completely abandoned, or they would have buried it. It’s not linked to the vein the Cordaeans used to attack the Municans, though.”
“Wait a moment! The Cordaeans have one of the veins mapped?!” Gil supposed that would explain how they snuck up on Fort Baldi with such a large, and otherwise conspicuous force of armas. “We send teams into these tunnel systems all the time. We even leave monitors to prevent issues just like this. Fort Baldi is deep inside Munican territory; I don’t see how the Cordaeans could chart a tunnel before us.”
“That’s why you Municans are always so surprised,” Shark shook his head, “You can’t even imagine a scenario where the Cordaeans know something you don’t.”
“Not true.”
“And where are those monitors?” Shark asked, mockingly holding out his arms and looking all around, “I don’t see any down here.”
“You probably destroyed them on your way here,” Gil quietly stewed. Shark was by far his least favorite of the Calmans.
Suddenly the ground shook. Doctor Gil hit the ground almost instantly as the violent tremors only intensified. Back toward the ledge, they heard a massive explosion from up on the surface. Fire, smoke, and several tons of debris exploded out from the crawlspace they came through to reach the crimson vein. For all they knew, Fort Baldi had been completely bathed in fire.
“W-what did you people do this time?!” The underground facilities might have withstood the destruction if a bomb exploded on the surface, but the doctor suspected the blast had come from several levels down, likely just above the hangar containing the Munican colossus, Cordoba. Gil didn’t know if anyone from Fort Baldi had survived if that was the case. That sound, that shaking, all of it suggested a bomb large enough to crater the entire base. It was a miracle the vein itself wasn’t starting to collapse. Even so, he was furious. “A bomb?! Really? Why would you do that?!”
“That is the question you should be asking,” Sable held up a finger while he smiled innocently at the doctor.
“That wasn’t us, you idiot,” Shark snapped.
“Let’s move,” Vesper gave the order, “Eyes up in case shards start falling.” Fortunately there weren’t very many crystals overhead. They were mostly clustered on the lower walls and the ground. Ordinary rocks were coming loose and raining down with alarming regularity, however. “Keep moving.”
They all ran toward the southwest as the tremors continued. Doctor Gil had no idea they would be running for so long. It was another hour before they reached a point where they could come up to the surface again. By then, they were far enough away from Fort Baldi to be completely hidden in the night. They could still see the light of the fires raging behind the fort’s enormous protective walls. It made the explosion from before seem almost too easy.
Gil sat completely exhausted on the edge of a boulder with his head in his hands. He could only look up at the carnage for so long. He could only listen to the ghosts quietly pass around theories about the explosion for so long.
“Transport is inbound,” Red reported, “ETA, two minutes.”
“Good,” Vesper said.
For the ghosts, it was almost mission accomplished. Gil’s future was still up in the air, but at least the ghosts weren’t going to kill or torture him, not themselves at any rate. Vesper’s vagueness always left room for a third party to unexpectedly and violently put an end to the doctor and everything he was working toward. This wasn’t the time or place that any of the ghosts would want to take questions in, but Gil just couldn’t help it, now. He had been extracted from Fort Baldi with relative ease just prior to its destruction. The situation felt more real and perilous to him now than ever.
“Once you take me to wherever it is you’re taking me to, what are you going to do then? What am I going to do? Am I going to sit around waiting to know if I’ll live or die? Or become some kind of Calig experiment?”
“We’re practically safe,” Sable said on the doctor’s behalf.
“Practically is meaningless,” Shark said pointedly.
“It’s fine,” Vesper said, approaching Gil. “The reason we’re after your test subjects is because you put a unique compound into their bodies–and yours, one that can help us exterminate an entire species of crimsons. Once that’s done, it might be possible to purge that influence from your bodies. I can’t say with any certainty, and I’d rather not get your hopes up. Either way, the plan isn’t to kill you. The plan is to turn your research toward something more direct. The medical community can play catch up later.”
“So that’s what this is about,” Gil breathed, somewhat relieved to know what his destiny for the time being was, but also unnerved by certain other things Vesper had told him. The Calmans weren’t sure the hive species’ influence could be purged from his body, but they were going to take advantage of the situation in either case. The doctor and his research were being repurposed by Calig, for their purposes, for their war on the crimsons infesting the world.
“It’s time to put this nonsense between Munica and Cordaea behind you. There are far more important wars that need to be fought, for the sake of the world. Welcome to your new life, Doctor.”
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by Phoenix | Nov 24, 2021 | FV, Pinned, Short Stories
Blackout
Doctor Gil had imagined himself being escorted at gunpoint when he left his lab. One of the ghosts would take point while the other, probably the impatient one, kept a gun muzzle poking him just a little too hard in the back. That was how Gil pictured this extraction operation playing out before they were underway. The way they approached him in the first place was a clue the doctor had overlooked, and so now he was making his own way northwest inside the HQ building. Alone. The two blue ghosts were still around, somewhere, but they were staying out of sight. Gil figured that any time they had to cross through areas with no cover or too much light, they would simply dematerialize their bodies like before, moving from one hiding spot to another completely unnoticed.
Every person Doctor Gil met on his way to the exit tried to turn him back around toward the shelter. Every time the doctor had to try to make up some urgent matter he had to attend to first. The first time he wasn’t convincing enough for an allied soldier, and he was taken by the arm. The soldier had every intention of dragging Gil to safety whether he liked it or not. Instead, the dutiful soldier hit the ground like a log when a faint wisp of blue carved a fine line through the air and across the back of his neck. Witnessing someone die so suddenly, and without the slightest bit of warning, was terrifying. These men were even more dangerous than the doctor could have imagined. Gil made sure to have a convincing story ready after that. He didn’t want to see this again; he didn’t want anyone unfortunate enough to bump into him to die just because they insisted on helping.
The situation only got worse once Gil was outside of the HQ building. It seemed like everything on the far side was on fire, and the gunfire and shouting was becoming even more intense. The ground shook as the HQ building was shelled by the Cordaean armas. No wonder people were eager to get him underground.
“Where to now?” Gil asked the two ghosts escorting him. He almost didn’t notice the trail of blue mana being drawn in front of him on the ground. It raced out and toward the warehouses, marking his way. For a brief moment, Gil contemplated going some other way. Could they catch him? The two ghosts weren’t treating him poorly, per se, but there was still no guarantee he would survive at his destination. The fate of his research was even more uncertain, but Gil doubted the Calmans would want to help him complete it. If he went with them, the Crimson Tide Project might be doomed.
Despite his fears for the project, Gil couldn’t risk running now. He knew only as much about the capabilities of Calig’s Blue Ghosts as they were willing to let him see; no doubt they had even more cruel tricks and methods hidden away for people that wanted to be difficult. In the end, Doctor Gil still valued his own life over the fruits of his research. After all, what was once made could be made again. As long as he was alive, there was hope. He followed the trail toward the warehouses, hoping against hope that none of his allies were waiting there.
Just as he was getting close to the buildings, close to safety, Gil felt a strong warmth in his chest. He felt dizzy. A dark vignette closed in on him, narrowing his vision more and more until he could hardly see anything at all. Gil stopped trying to run and hunched over. For a split second, he thought he remembered feeling like this before. It was well over a month ago, but it hadn’t been nearly this intense. Fearing he was about to pass out, Gil crouched down. Then he heard a shell coming down nearby. All the doctor heard before his hearing left him was a loud pop.
Doctor Gil could feel himself lying on his back. He could hear men talking over him. His limbs ached, but his right arm in particular. If he didn’t know better, Gil could have sworn his arm was fractured. Maybe it was. He didn’t have a clue what was going on, where he was, or how he’d gotten there. Once he opened his eyes, the situation only got worse. The second ghost, the one that was always so impatient with him, the one that had effortlessly taken away his only means of defense, was standing directly over him with a gun drawn. Gil could see straight down the black barrel and up to the blue eyed ghost wielding it.
Was this it?
“Don’t move,” the ghost warned.
Gil could barely move his lips, but he had to ask, even at the risk of dying here and now, “What happened?”
“You tell me,” the ghost spat back.
“Help him up.” The doctor recognized the first ghost’s voice, but that wasn’t the one who came up from above–rather behind–him and hauled him up to his feet.
Gil’s arm was hurting even more, now. He started nursing it with his good arm and looked back to try and see who hauled him up. Whoever it was, there were at least three ghosts accounted for now. The doctor was startled by the site of the third ghost. He was dressed similarly to the first two, but his goggles gave off a haunting red glow. Did Calig also field ‘red ghosts’ or was this blue ghost special somehow? Regardless, the red one made the doctor far more wary than the others, even the one that still had him at gunpoint.
“You said he was the only test subject left,” The red ghost said to the first, the one Gil was almost certain was in charge, now.
“I know what you’re thinking,” the leader said.
“I could sense the mana building up from here. He’s a risk. Need more information before the extraction.”
Doctor Gil could tell a surprising amount about the red one just from the way he spoke. That one was emotionless, focused only on the mission. He wasn’t so much concerned with the process or the methods as with the results. Gil was beginning to suspect that he’d done something ridiculous while he was disoriented, but the red one didn’t really care, so long as they stayed on track. This group of ghosts was starting to make more sense to the doctor. The first ghost he’d encountered was the leader, calm, cool, and reasonably focused. The second ghost was more emotionally driven, but just as capable in a fight, and an invaluable asset to this team. The red ghost was probably the most capable, that or he had some special ability or a set of skills that gave him unique value. The doctor didn’t know if there were any more ghosts, but even if there weren’t, these three seemed capable of taking on just about anything Munica could throw at them. This must have been close to a regular, routine extraction for them.
“First thing’s first,” the leader said, bringing the doctor’s attention to him with a gesture, “Something was wrong with you, Doctor. Shark came to get you out of the open and you went for his gun. After he put you on the ground, you passed out. He carried you the rest of the way. Now it’s your turn to tell us some things.”
“I … did what?” Granted, if Gil thought he had a snowball’s chance on the sun of escaping this situation, he might at least try to think of a plan first, but he wasn’t stupid enough to ever try to disarm a special forces agent, and certainly not one of these three. What in the world had come over him? Why would he do something so embarrassingly, so unfathomably stupid? He had to be making this up.
“Has anything like this happened to you before? Are there any gaps in your memory, or times you felt off since you started testing the stimulant on yourself?”
Good questions, if a bit cutting, Gil admitted. Was he experiencing a side effect of his own combat stimulant? Was it causing him to act differently at times and retain no memory of the event? If that was the case, why hadn’t someone pointed that out to him before now? Why hadn’t his research been exposed yet? Why wasn’t he being closely monitored from inside a cell? No, Gil concluded, this might not be the first time he’d had an ‘episode,’ but it was almost certainly the first time he had ever done something like this. No one would trust him if he went for an allied soldier’s weapon, whatever the reason.
The doctor shook his head. “There were times where I’ve felt off … a few moments that are vague to me, but they would never let me roam or work at all if something like this happened.”
“Not necessarily,” Red cut in, “We’re not your allies. You have every reason to want to protect yourself.”
That had the ring of truth to it. Maybe Doctor Gil wasn’t completely insane during these supposed episodes he was having. Maybe he felt safe, surrounded by security personnel, as well as his automaton assistants. Aside from the shells raining down inside the fortress walls, the blue ghosts were the only threat to his life at Fort Baldi. That had to contribute to what happened.
“We could just knock him out and carry him,” Shark offered.
Not helping the case, Gil bitterly mused.
“I want to know if his change was based internally or externally,” Red said, looking at Gil, “If it’s the latter, then knocking him out is inadvisable.”
“Agreed,” the leader nodded.
“By the way, Red,” Shark made a soft pivot, “what did you find in his notes?”
“The notes?” Gil looked around and quickly spotted his briefcase. Not only was it open, but his research materials were completely out of order. He gasped when he saw that one of the autoinjectors was missing. Red had it right there in his left hand. “What are you doing? Why do you have that?” Surely they could understand the briefcase was better left closed. He wasn’t even surprised they had gotten the thing open in spite of the combination lock, though the doctor did suspect the lock was broken now.
“Never put all your eggs in one basket,” Red said casually. He slid the autoinjector into one of the many pouches on his vest.
Well, at least they weren’t intent on destroying everything. Still, this hardly seemed like the time or place to be rifling through his the doctor’s things. “What are you people trying to do exactly?”
“In a word?” the leader shrugged, “research. We couldn’t wait for you to wake up to find out what happened.”
“The doctor may not be dangerous,” Red explained, “but the compound he came up with is. The physical substance is working fine, but what it does to mana is mostly undocumented. I’m guessing he wasn’t accounting for the communicative properties. It’s a shame there isn’t much he can tell us.”
Gil flinched. That was most certainly not true. “I more than accounted for everything. The hive creatures my materials were taken from were processed correctly and thoroughly. They can’t attune the mana around them beyond the acceptable parameters.”
“That doesn’t fill me with confidence,” Shark said derisively.
“Don’t underestimate crimson psionics,” Red warned the doctor.
The leader of the blue ghosts knelt down over the briefcase and lined up the research pages inside. “I think that’s all Doctor Gil has for us.” He closed the case and stood back up with it. “Next time he does something like that, Shark knows what to do. We’ll figure out the rest once we’re back at base.”
“What happens to me, then?” Gil asked, though a part of him really didn’t want to know. The ghosts had been interested in the test subjects of the Crimson Tide Project before, but now there was strong evidence that something was terribly wrong with them, something terribly wrong with him. The doctor feared for his safety more than ever now, not just because Shark had an excuse to harm him, but because a new threat was lurking within. He didn’t quite understand the implications yet, but he was quickly putting together a grim picture in the back of his mind. Were his days numbered from the moment he began to test the 2XS stimulant on himself?
No one answered him this time. Shark shoved Gil forward as their leader and Red made for the exit.
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