YES! Someone Else Finally Says It!

A World Without Him

Chapter 22

His dream held nothing memorable. The black void had apparently lost its novelty after being dragged into its depths so many times before. Tang's expression held only annoyance as his body spinned and glided through the never-ending darkness.

He didn't want to deal with what he knew would come next. The hands, the voices, the damned buzzing that came in recently.

What he wanted right now was one of those phantom things to appear in front of him, actually consider him a person worth talking to, and answer his questions.

To tell him what this void was even for, how they had access to his head since he knows the reoccurring nightmares and chatter wasn't formed from his mind alone, no matter how those things try to gaslight him into convincing himself overwise.

However, he also knew nothing would come from screaming at the void or cursing these stupid voices out in every curse word he knew, dead languages included. Maybe some of them would understand; he saw the old style of clothing the two spirits had when they showed up at the infirmary.

But it's not like they would talk to him of their own accord (besides Cian, but that thing comes and goes as it pleases and only talks to him when it's amused or wants something. It's a wildcard he doesn't want to think of the implications of), those two he saw were freaking out when he just looked at them.

From the urgency in their voices, Tang doesn't think he has a good chance at a one on one like that again, especially not here.

So, he chose to do the only thing he could: wait, like almost every time before. He crossed his arms, folded his legs, and sat still, eyes closed as the void suddenly reacted to his choice.

It seemed to come alive as he relaxed into its atmosphere, accepting him into its domain. He swore he could feel tendrils of unseen energy suddenly coil and bend around him, letting themselves be seen for the first time. He could sense it slow and accelerate based on unknown variables, how it had potential, how it could be something more if someone just gave its power shape.

It was overwhelming, yet not unfamiliar, like an overenthusiastic relative hugging you a bit too tight. But when he opened his eyes again, everything suddenly stilled, only pitch black as far as he could see.

It was silent, empty, yet again. Tang didn't know what that could mean, or even what that rush before was, but he wanted to figure at least one thing about this place out.

And because of that, he closed his eyes, ignored the warning signs, and tried to coax the energy back out. He sat in silence for a good while, waiting for the familiar energy to return.

Nothing happened for a good while. No spikes in the atmosphere, no familiar feelings, and there weren't even the usual voices or hands crowding his space. It was just quiet. He didn't move to open his eyes, though, as he liked the peace and wanted to stay a bit longer, even with a small bit of paranoia in the back of his mind saying the nightmare would begin sooner or later.

So, he focussed on what he could feel. His hair swayed behind him in the low gravity, stray wisps tickling his neck as the strands went every-which-way. He could feel his clothes do the same, the soft fabric of his sleeves and the ends of his robe billowing away from him…

...My robe?

He slowly opened his eyes once again, looking down at his body. He was no longer in the drab uniform he was given at the sleeping quarters, but instead he was back in his old red, white, and gold outfit.

The fabric seemed brand new as he took a piece between his fingers, nothing like the worn threads of his actual outfit. His shoes, scarf, and gloves were absent, though, while he still had long white socks under his maroon pants.

He calmly unwound his legs, letting them dangle in front of him. Looking closely at the fabric, he could see a small, almost unnoticeable orange sheen over the clothing. Frowning, he lifted his hands to his face seeing the same sheen over his hands, sleeves, and… the bell.

It seems like this piece of shit followed me in here. He thought bitterly, scowling at the bracelet hanging off his wrist. He raised a hand to his hair, running his fingers through the strands.

He still wasn't exactly used to the length, having had short hair for a good decade before it started growing dramatically after LBD. His hand kept trailing through the strands, ending at the middle of his back. And even before then, he'd never had it this long.

He fidgeted with the ends of his hair, lost in thought. He noticed some pieces had become lighter than the others, similar to the highlights he'd seen in Mei's signature hairstyle. However, his were closer to ashy blond than neon green.

Tang wonders if the color was natural. It fits her family’s theme, the whole white, green, and gold palette, so maybe she did it as some self expression while also sticking to her family's rules. She’s also a descendant of the Dragon of the West, so he supposes it's possible to get it naturally from those mythical being genes.

If… when he goes back to Megatropolis, he'll have to ask her himself.

He let go of the strands he was fidgeting with, letting them float in place as he sighed into his palms. Taking his head out of his hands, he glanced around the void once more, trying to see if anything changed while he was stuck in his head. The scholar couldn't see anything different, so he sunk back into himself and crossed his arms with a huff.

He wonders if the voices are gone now, stuck somewhere, unable to interact with him anymore. He saw how panicked they were in the medical tent, and he hasn't been able to hear from any other voices like them afterwards. He wonders if Cian was the person they were talking about, how someone should have blocked the connections from them? The details were fuzzy.

Still, he remembered the clear fear on their faces, how they couldn't let him die just yet. He's supposed to stay away from Cian and the monastery apparently, and Tang is more than happy to avoid both if he could. He could feel it in his gut that interacting with either of those options would not result in something good.

It's not like he can do much else at this point. His bag had most likely been confiscated by those military officials while he was unconscious, so most of that supplies is stuff he's never getting back. He groaned at the thought. All of that work is just gone in the wind now.

He misses his journal the most. All the little notes and scribbles he makes help him to focus, and reading back on them helps keep the memories fresh. Most of the stuff he writes is just about the legends and Monkie Kid's adventures, though, as he likes to portray them on paper the most.

Speaking of the legends, he wonders what is exactly going on with these spirits. The scholar doesn't remember hearing of ghosts matching the descriptions of the spirits he'd seen in any of the myths he's read, and since he is a Certified Scholar Spectacular (name given to him from a 9 year old Mk with a paper badge to match. He kept it in his journal as a bookmark. He really wants that journal back now), he knows that they've never shown up in one.

He thinks they're somehow related to the Golden Cicada and the Great Monk, with the obvious gold and orange colors along with the multiple cicadas popping up in most of his dreams. He just doesn't know how that connects with the rest of the information he’s gotten.

Flickers of memories play in his head as he tries to think of anything tying these things together. Cian had called his visions flares, and that it had his powers before him. If Cian was anything like the other voices, did that mean those two spirits also had powers like his before, too?

How do his powers work in the first place, anyways? How can they be passed down from (most likely) the Great Monk if he had already ascended like in JTTW, and had no possibility of reincarnation?

He rubs the back of his neck, lost in thought. Maybe Cian had lied to him at some point, about anything really, but then how were those voices from the medical tent related?

The truth is, Tang doesn't know.

The declaration hurts his soul, but it's true. He can't link these things to anything he's seen before. Everything is too foreign, too unpredictable where he can't wrap his head around all the stuff piling over one another.

He hates the feeling: being in the dark, not knowing what he's really dealing with. He prides himself on his knowledge, his ingenuity, as it's the only thing that really sets him apart from his friends.

So when that gets taken away from him, he's left scrambling, making situations worse than they already were in an attempt to make them better.

His teeth grind together as his hands grow tight on his arms, the unpleasant thought wriggling under his skin. Maybe I shouldn't have stayed here for so long. Nothing good has come out of this place so far, anyways. He thinks, looking out into the unchanging darkness; it's still empty.

He didn't know what he was expecting.

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A World Without Him

Chapter 13

He's back yet again. You must already know what he's talking about. His void, his dreamscape, his personal hell hole. Call it what you want.

Although, it hasn't changed from the last time he remembered coming here. He can still feel the warmth that encompassed him when he was caught. How the tension the original place held seemed to melt into the new atmosphere.

It was kind of overwhelming; the drastic change probably overcompensates for something else he was worried to even think about.

So, he pushes those paranoid thoughts to the back of his mind, embracing the surroundings. He even feels nice enough to open his eyes, still wincing at the bold, solid color. However, it was dimmed compared to his first time here: manageable.

He lets his eyes adjust before looking around, only seeing a burnt orange as far as his eyes could show him.

He could move his limbs, too, almost like swimming through water, but he didn't really need to go anywhere at the moment. Everything stayed that simple color no matter where he looked.

So he waited, slowly spinning in the weightlessness that filled this place. Tang had almost become bored at the endless silence. Everything was just so quiet. He couldn't even hear himself… he didn't know if that was a good thing.

Something saved him the chance to ponder on it longer, though, as the sound of grating metal reached his ears. It made him jump, the sudden sound raging through the original silence.

He couldn't tell where it was coming from, the noise seemingly coming from all over. He couldn't even tell which way was up at this point; everything stayed the same exact color.

It grew more intense as he frantically looked around the endless space, finding nothing as the sound only grew closer.

Then the grating stopped abruptly, letting the dreamscape fall back into complete silence. Tang was sure if he could hear himself at the moment, his erratic breathing would have been enough to drown out the whole void.

The new bout of silence didn't last long.

‘Hello again.’

The smooth voice sounded from behind. Tang could suddenly hear himself again, his breaths heavy with grinding teeth and a fast heartbeat drowning out the sudden noise. Tang whipped his head around to the foreign sounds source.

It was a person. Or, well, something that looked like one. It had an average human-ish figure, along with the right amount of arms, heads, and legs to assume.

But that was where most similarities ended. It glowed a faint orange hue all over its body, highlighting its translucent, golden skin. The limbs he could see were covered in many undecipherable symbols, with what seemed like steel rings on its wrists and ankles.

It had light, loose clothing covering its body, baggy pants and half of a robe to name some, with multiple pieces of hanging jewelry all over. Its hair was short with bright highlights and a wavy texture, floating around its head as the hair seemingly went by its own rules. Its eyes were pure white, giving away little to what it was thinking.

It smiled, huffing out a laugh that echoed in the void. ‘My apologies. I didn't expect you to be this… jumpy. I even made all of this more digestible for you.” It sounded out, almost condescendingly.

Tang stared wide-eyed at the newcomer, staying strikingly still even as he floated. “Wh-who are you!?” He nervously shouted at the unknown threat.

The being lolled its head to one side, looking Tang up and down. After a second, it seemed satisfied with what it found, giving Tang a wolfish grin. ‘You may call me Cian.’

Tang seemed shocked at getting an answer. He hasn't had an actual conversation in his dreams for months, so he expected to be thrown away or woken up by now.

Okay. This is weird. It seems familiar… But this is fine. It's just a dream. Everything here is your head mashing together memories. Tang weakly thought as he curled in on himself. His stomach flipped uncomfortably as he tried to reason with what was happening.

The being- erm, Cian, frowned. ‘I expected better than those foolish excuses. Is this not enough for you?’

Tang quickly looked back at it, surprise clearly on his face. It only sighed at the reaction, seemingly annoyed with its predicament.

Its body then seemed to adhere to gravity, landing on a platform Tang couldn't see, and walking towards the scholar with a new tactic in mind.

‘I know how much you’ve struggled. Pain, suffering, loss: those are things you have wanted to avoid so badly, yet keep finding throughout your life.’

Tang tried to back away, but he couldn't seem to find a grip as he kept floating in place, the feeling around him changing from being underwater to something more like being stuck in space.

‘You are WEAK. You have been thrown around from birth, treated as less than based on what you have failed to provide. How you failed to do anything meaningful.’

Cian’s voice shook the area, making sure that Tang couldn't ignore it as it drew closer.

‘But it doesn't have to stay that way. I can help you, little cicada. I can gift your body the strength to give back what those demons have done to you and those you cared about.’

It's right in front of him now; its eyes seem to stare into his soul as it talks. Tang tries to look away, but it grabs his chin and roughly turns his head to face it.

‘Just let me in; I have what you need. Stop fighting what you know you’ve been searching for.’

Tang didn't know what it was talking about. It looked sharply into his eyes, and it looked for a long time, trying to see something Tang couldn't fathom.

Small hairline fractures appeared in the colorful void in Tang's peripheral vision, but Cian didn't seem to care at the moment. It frowned in the end, letting Tang's face go as it stepped back, wisps of hair floating into its face.

‘I suppose this isn't working. I'll give you a token for now.’ It grumbled, yanking off a string around its neck that held a small bell as its charm.

Tang froze at Cian's actions, feeling uneasy at the behavior as he was worried the figure would snap at any moment. He stayed that way even as it walked closer, reaching towards his wrist to tie the bell around it.

‘There.’ It said softly, stepping back in front of Tang after finishing the knot. Tang lifted the hand to his face, trying to inspect what he was just given.

A sudden shake interrupts the moment, causing larger cracks to form in the color surrounding them. Cian looked up at the fractures, glaring at them as its body seemed to flicker in and out of existence.

“What's happening?!” Tang gasped, seeing the cracks grow larger and Cian’s body starting to fade away.

‘Those damned snakes.’ It spat to itself, turning slowly to Tang's panicked form as its body kept fading more and more.

‘We will see each other again. Keep that bell on you at all times. Just wait for me…’ Its voice faded out, becoming background noise as its body finally disappeared and the cracks overcame the color.

Pieces of color began to crumble down, revealing a familiar black void underneath. Tang couldn't hear himself after Cian vanished, so he could only feel himself screaming as he was sucked downwards by a sudden pull, taking him away from the warmth and stability.

Now everything was cold. Pieces of the former void changed to blend into the new one, giving Tang only darkness as he slowly started to lose himself. He closed his eyes and he continued to fall. He flailed his limbs as he did so, screaming at the top of his lungs to no result except silence; nothing caught him this time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tang wakes up on the hardwood floor. His limbs felt numb to sensation, as he could only feel prickles as he came to realize he was awake. He couldn't remember much from his dream…

After staying in place for a good couple of minutes, he regained some feeling, but only the soreness in his arms and legs. It felt like the time he tried training with Sandy: like his muscles would fall off at any attempt to move them.

Still, he groans as he raises his head, trying to look at where he ended up this time. He was on his bedroom floor (again. Maybe that's why he felt so sore) near the open window, one arm hanging outside, almost as if he was trying to climb out in his sleep. The sky was dim, and he could feel the early breeze outside, causing a shiver to run up his spine.

He quickly pulled his arm out of the window, letting it fall to the floor when the prickly sensation became too much to continue. Staring at the ceiling was the only thing he could do at the moment when his body was out of commission, so he did just that.

Waiting for the exhaustion in his limbs to go away seemed to take forever. He could hear how more and more people began to go outside as it turned from dawn to morning. He saw how sunlight entered his bedroom, shining onto his torso as he laid still. The warmth was nice, he supposed.

He only tried to move after he saw his whole room lit up with the sun's rays, with a shadow suddenly blocking some of the light, most likely a cloud, then moving out of the way for light to come back with a vengeance on his face. He squinted, annoyed at the light now trying to blind his already crap eyes.

Moving forward, he pulled his arms in and pushed himself onto his elbows, then taking a knee as he pushed off from there. After grabbing the window ledge for stability, Tang was now fully standing!

That only helped so much as his limbs still felt like lead with everything else giving off prickling sensations, and his vision was blurry without his glasses. He sighed heavily, knowing he would have to get to his bedside table to have his sight back.

Slowly but surely, he wobbly stepped up to his bed, flopped on top of it, and rolled on his side, leading himself to the side table.

Mentally cringing that he had to do that, he quickly reached to where he put his glasses, and then put them on. He felt more secure when his vision returned.

Now with more stability, Tang slowly sat up, raising his hands to rub the drowsiness from his eyes. However, something snagged on his scarf as he did so, making him look down as his wrist confused.

It was a bell. A small, golden bell attached to a thin bracelet that was tied with a bow.

Wh-what… He thought, shocked at the piece of jewelry around his wrist. It was in my dream, how did it get here!? HOW IS IT REAL!?!?

In his panicked state, he tried everything to get rid of the thing. Pulling it off didn't work unless he wanted to dislocate his thumb. Ripping it off didn't work, as it only hurt his wrist in the process (it ripped off so easily earlier…).

Finally, cutting it off didn't work either, as Tang forced himself up to the kitchen, leaning on the counter, and then tried every sharp item he could grab to get it off. An assortment of knives: nope, but he did cut himself a few times, bleeding a bit onto the counter. Scissors: became crooked and useless after the attempt. Pizza cutter: couldn't even scratch the band.

Now tired and with a hurting wrist, he wobbled over to the living room, took off his glasses, now holding them in his hand, and flopped onto the couch face first. After a few seconds, he screamed into the cushions.

He wanted nothing to do with this. Whatever was messing with his dreams, and probably sanity, could go suck on a lemon for all he cared. He didn't want to put up with this anymore.

I want to leave. I'm going to leave. I'm going to go so far that whatever is affecting me can't chase me this time. So I can finally figure out what’s wrong with me. So I can get rid of it. So I can see my friends again…

He tilted his head to the side as he put on his glasses, seeing how his apartment looked like a hailstorm had run through it from his previous episode. All of his stuff was still thrown about; he could easily see everything that he had trashed around the room.

‘I can't ____ __em at ___.’

Tang quickly sat up, grabbing his head in frustration. Adrenaline rushed through his body as he stood up, grabbed the previously discarded backpack near his front door and started to rush around the apartment, grabbing anything useful. He's going to put this into action. He's not going to chicken out again.

A thermos left on the counter from his previous search along with a plastic water bottle and a small water filter get thrown in first. All of these items have signs of wear from continuous usage.

Then he walks towards a fallen pile, taking a pair of baggy black shorts and some t-shirt advertising a random acting troupe, extra socks and underwear, and a well worn sun hat from it and throwing most of the clothing into the front pocket, letting the sun hat hang from his neck.

‘Som___ing isn't _____ here, he ________ b_ ____.’

The voice was muffled, being drowned out by Tang's erratic movements, digging through the piles of junk looking for specific items.

He came up with one of his old journals, the leather binding making it seem older than it really was. He picked it up harshly, opening the strap and looking through the pages.

There was a big number 3 circled at the start of it. Tang used to number his journals when he just started writing, but he let up with it when he started to mainly doodle instead of write.

He looked further through the writing. It was his travel journal; it was something he kept as he went from place to place, writing about his days and interesting events that he saw or was involved in.

There were a good couple of pages left in the journal. He remembered he stopped writing in it when he came to Metrapolis in his 20's, getting an apartment and settling down in one place.

After a moment of thought, he took the journal and packed it into the main part of his backpack with the water bottle and thermos. He then grabbed a small umbrella on the floor near the pile, putting it into one of the water bottle pockets on the side.

He then walked briskly to the bathroom, ignoring the mirror and looking under the sink. He grabbed a small zipped up bag containing first aid equipment. Things like bandaids, antibacterial packets, tweezers, a small pack of sunscreen, bug bite patches, and other small aids were inside.

‘Why is __ __ing so ____ like th__?’

He ignored the voice again, harshly putting the first aid pouch in front of his backpack next to the clothes. He quickly goes back to the kitchen after leaving the bathroom, taking out as many non-perishables that he can fit into his bag. Things like chip bags, canned food, and some fruit strips plus granola bars.

After he finished, he seemed to just stare at the bag. Looking through its seams, almost like he was trying to reason something from the backpack. His breathing slowed as he did so, becoming deep and rhythmic as he continued to stare, letting his adrenaline drop.

He took the plastic water bottle out, then zipped up the bag. He quickly filled it up with water before putting it in the other pocket on the bag's side, matching the umbrella.

Taking some time to rest, he left the backpack on the counter and walked to his living room window, looking down at the people below.

Down on the street, he saw the grannies on their way to class together, walking past people in uniform serving the outside tables of a popular chain restaurant. Kids walked with their parents, and a hoverbike raced by above traffic causing some napkins to fly up and away in the daylight.

He felt the warmth of the sun through the window. This was all regular. This was all normal. No shocks, no loud noises, no orange. It helped him relax, letting the tension bleed from his limbs and shoulders.

Leaving the living room, he went back into his bedroom for his phone. Its screen was cracked like his glasses; he grabbed it off the bedside table (he tried to turn it on, but it was dead again) and put it into his pants back pocket.

He then opened the drawer under it, taking out a solar powered battery bank and his wallet. After wrapping the battery cord in his hands, he looked to the floor, seeing The Origins of JTTW open on the ground.

After a bit of hesitation, he crouched down and picked up the book. It was open to the page of the Great Monk, how he was involved in the original story and how he differed from the legends based on what remnants archeologists could find of him.

The Great Monk took up a few more pages after that, most of it being clear pictures of the scrolls and other items recovered proving his existence. Tang closed the book and tucked it under his arm, walking back to the kitchen and packing the book, letting the solar battery hang on a zipper like a keychain to charge as he walked.

He didn't really have anything else to do now. He leaned on the counter, glaring at the backpack, like it was the one who made him crazy. After a few moments, he bowed his head and sighed, walking back to the living room and looking at the mess.

There was nothing else he needed; nothing else jumped out at him to take it along with him. Well, that was until he saw something reflecting the sunlight from the window, buried under ripped paper and post-its.

Walking to the small pile, he brushed aside the pieces of paper, finding his old combat boots underneath. He didn't need to use them much when he first got them, as he mostly stayed in place as he read at his station.

They looked like they would still fit him; he deflated a bit as he noticed that he hasn't grown much since then. Slowly pulling them out of the scraps, he took them to the couch. As he changed from his new-ish flats to thin socks and his old combat boots, he thought how nice it was that he didn't have to shave his head to wear these again.

After tying up the laces and tucking the top of the boots under his embroidered pant cuffs, he stood to grab the bag from the counter and reached for his key ring near the door.

Leaving his apartment, he closed and locked the door softly, making sure he wouldn't be heard leaving. Putting his key ring in his other pants pocket, he went down the stairs towards the building entrance.

Standing in front of the double doors, Tang hesitated. Will this be alright? I'm not even sure that leaving will get rid of these voices… But what if I can find some answers? What if I can finally get better? I might as well try.

He steps out the doors determined. The white noise washes over him; discussions, multiple vehicles passing by, and nature blurred together in the community.

Tang starts to walk. He walks past familiar spots like Lazy Susan's, unfamiliar people that walk by just the same, and the new visuals popping up as all of this keeps changing with the times.

He walks, and walks, and walks. His ankles feel like you would give out, but he needed to keep walking to get away from the familiarity and sameness of Metrapolis. He won't find closure here: he needs to find answers elsewhere, and on his own.

Zoning back into his surroundings, he sees that his muscle memory has led him somewhere he recognized. He was right in front of Pigsy's Noodles, in all its glory.

He saw how the metal blinds were drawn and the sign signified it was closed. The entrance wasn't the same as the window, though, still open for anyone to waltz in if they like.

Sighing to himself, Tang checks inside the restaurant to make sure no one was looting the place, then reaches up and pulls down the metal entrance cover with a bit of effort, locking it at the bottom for Pigsy.

After shaking his arm at the slight effort (the bell on his wrist never rang out), he figured that he should probably let someone know where he was going so he wasn't plastered on a missing poster or something.

Remembering his dead phone, he grumbled as he reached into his bag, pulling out his journal and first aid kit, then ripping out a page and some medical tape. After putting the materials back in the bag, he took a small pen off of his key ring and wrote out a note for Pigsy.

Hey Pigsy, this is from Tang. I'm just letting you know that I'll be out of town for a bit. I probably won't have any cell service most of the time, so I'll message you when I can. Also, I closed the restaurant entrance for you, protecting it from any potential thieves! I think that my actions deserve a free bowl of noodles when I get back.

—Warm regards, Tang ♡

After finishing the note, he used the medical tape to secure it to the metal blinds over the window, mainly under its awning to protect the message from the elements.

Now someone knows I'm leaving. Maybe people will actually listen if he's the one to tell them. Tang thought as he walked away from the shop, not thinking about it too much longer for his remaining sanity.

He continued to walk, seeing the neon on the skyscrapers and tall buildings thin out to smaller houses next to small Mom and Pop shops. He sits on the edge of a cleaner sidewalk to take a small break, taking the solar battery off the zipper and plugging in his phone.

He checked the time on it when it was charged enough, seeing it was about 2:37 PM at the moment. That's probably why the sun is glaring down at him right now, making him put on the sun hat and take a drink from his water bottle.

After putting everything back into his bag, he rolled up his sleeves, put his phone into his pocket and continued his walk to the outskirts of Metrapolis.

The buildings seemed to dwindle as he went farther and farther out, only seeing a few houses spread across grassy fields as he came closer and closer to the exit.

After he walked for a few more minutes, he could see the exit sign (more like a billboard) in full. It said, “Now leaving Metrapolis, we hope to see you again soon!” In bright yellow, pink, and blue.

Tang huffed at the bright colors, looking past the sign at the road leading out of the city. No buildings filled the sides, no signs lit up the road, and no one seemed to be walking along its side like he was. Only a flat road led out of the city, showing how different the inside compared to the flat plains ahead.

This was it. He only needed to walk a bit further to be out of the Metrapolis. Away from his city and friends. He could finally start to figure out what was happening to him.

He took a deep breath, focussing on the path ahead, and stepped past the sign.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun had barely started to set when Tang arrived at his first destination. It was a small gas station, a piece of the city between the rolling hills and fields around them.

A car that looked like a taxi was parked near one of the pumps, with a person no older than 25 seeming to be having trouble with it as he kept kicking the pump near the taxi.

Ignoring the person, Tang walked inside the gas station to refill his water bottle. He exchanged pleasantries with the cashier before exiting again, seeing the presumed taxi driver still going ham on the pump, seemingly not letting up since Tang saw him last.

Sighing internally, Tang tried to walk past the unfortunate driver, but was stopped when the kid started to shout at him. “Hey! Hey you! Can you help me out here? This stulid pump ate my card, and I have a time limit to make it back!”

Tang looked back suspiciously, trying to see if he was about to get kidnapped or not. The person looked decent, short shaggy brown hair with a navy button down along with gray leggings and white tennis shoes with a panicked expression: not that suspicious. He also saw the cashier had a clear view of this specific pump, and some cameras were sprinkled around the gas station, so Tang was willing to risk it.

As he got closer, he saw the card was too far in the reader to get it out with your fingers. Tang nodded his head in sympathy. “Erm, sure. Just give me a second.” He pulled out his first aid kit and took the tweezers out, starting to try and pull the thing out of the reader.

The driver talked his ear off as he did so. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! I tried to do a long drive for someone down at the Golden South province all the way to Metrapolis, but I ran out of gas on my way back. I got a lot of tip money from it, but now I might not make it back in time to turn in the taxi. I don't want to have to pay the late fee again: my boss racks it up depending on how many times it's been turned in late, and I've already been late 6 official times-”

“Here you go.” Tang interrupts, shoving the now free card into the driver's face. The driver lit up at receiving his card back, pocketing it and unlocking the taxi, getting in after pulling the pump out. Tang goes to wipe the tweezers down before putting them back in his bag.

Then before Tang could leave, the driver rolled down the taxi window, poking his head out. “By the way, do you need to go anywhere? I'm just going back to Open Border, but I can drop you off anywhere along the way, free of charge! I can even take a shortcut for you if need be.”

Tang debated his options. He did need to get to Golden South as it had one of his old colleagues there that he could consult with, and getting there purely on foot would take a while. It was also that Tang didn't really want to waste any time in getting rid of his problem. The driver seemed nice enough, no big dents or scratches on the car and no oddities as far as Tang could see.

He decided to accept on a whim. It's not like there were any nearby hotels anyways, and he didn't want to sleep outside this time, especially with what's been going on. “Oh, sure. Just drop me when you stop in Golden South; I'll find my way from there.” Tang accepted, opening the door and getting into the back seat.

“That sounds good to me! I'll let you out before I turn in the taxi. By the way, my name is Zach.” Zach introduced after getting back into the driver's seat and rolling up the window.

“Nice to meet you. You can call me Tang” Tang replied from the back seat, quickly taking off his backpack and putting it on the car floor.

“Will do Tang!” Zach then put the car out of park and into drive, pulling out of the gas Station, and then driving down the smooth road away from Metrapolis.

Tang looked out the back window,seeing more and more of the city fading from view. He looked away after some moments, going to look out his side window, out at the grass and setting sun. He closes his eyes.

‘Are you done?’

Tang shoots his eyes open, trying not to freak out when someone else is currently in the car. He attempts to look around discreetly, but he already knows it won't result in anything meaningful.

Just ignore it. It's not like it'll talk to you again. Just let it babble along and fade away. He reasoned, going back to looking out the window.

‘Are we really doing this?’

Tang didn't react, ignoring the voice and letting himself disassociate.

‘You are making this difficult.’

Tang didn't reply. The hands on his lap held onto his pants with a death grip.

The voice sighed heavily, then let the car ride fall into silence yet again. Tang sighed in relief, sagging into his seat…

A huge flash of light suddenly came from the seat beside Tang, causing him to jump at the blast. “You okay back there?” Zach asked concerned, stopped at a traffic light.

Tang took a second to respond. “Oh! Oh, yeah, I'm completely fine. Don't worry about it!” Zach looked unconvinced, but returned his eyes to the road when the traffic light turned green.

Tang quickly looked to the empty seat beside him, jaw dropping at the figure now sitting there, jogging the foggy memory from his dreams. It was Cian.

‘Will you converse with me now?’ Cian asked, a bit smug.

Wh-what the hell?! How is this happening?! Tang thought, panicking internally.

Cian scoffed at the question. ‘Do I have to spell everything out for you? I’m projecting my body through the token I gave you. Only you can see and hear me as you're the one wearing it.’

Tang started to spiral. Token? Does it mean the stuped bell?! Have I finally snapped…

Cian seemed like it was about to snap itself, deeply frowning at Tang. Suddenly, it reached out to grab Tang's wrist, physically pulling on the bell he woke up with. Tang fell onto his side at the sudden pull, alerting Zach again. “Are you sure you're okay? You're completely fine if you have motion sickness! I can pull over if you want.”

Tang quickly refutes. “No, no, it's alright. I just dropped something.” He sat up slowly, rubbing the now sore wrist from the pull.

‘Will you acknowledge me now?’

Tang grimaced, staring at his feet as he scooted as far away from Cian as he could. You're real. How are you real? Were you the one messing with my dreams for some sort of sick amusement?

Cian sighed, getting closer and lifting Tang's wrist up by the bracelet. ‘To answer the last question, no. How I'm here is because I'm connected with you through our shared abilities. I was once able to harness the same power you used against the Lady Bone Demon.’

Cian then let his wrist go, letting it fall onto the car seat. ‘But now you have them. So I think it's only my duty to help you before those flares get out of control. They mainly affect your perception of reality, which is why you've been experiencing more and more visions as time went on.’

Tang took a deep breath, still staring at his feet. Then how can I get rid of them? The visions, voices, whatever's affecting me.

Cian leaned back and looked out the window. ‘They stop once you get control over your powers. However, you're too weak at the moment to even try overcoming anything by your own will.’

Tang laughed bitterly to himself as he ran a hand through his messy hair, dislodging his sunhat. That figures.

Cian grinned widely out of Tang's view at the scholars's response. ‘I do have a solution to help, though. I can offer my previous strength to help you overcome your weaknesses.’

Tang looked up to Cian, a condescending smile on his face. And why should I trust you? For all I know, you could be the one giving me these hellish visions in the first place, or I'm still hallucinating! It's not like I'm being coerced by a random voice that only I can see and speak to in my mind at the moment.

Cian didn't take the sarcasm lightly; loose dust and other debris floated up from the floor as it looked Tang in the eyes. ‘I can easily let you keep living your days alone and paranoid, plagued by visions. I am trying to give you an escape and some way to fight back. And you're judging me this quickly? What would those so-called friends of yours think when they find you huddled in your trashed apartment, trapped within the confines of your mind and reliving the worst moments of your life over and over? You would become useless to them. They wouldn't give you a second glance before leaving you in your filth.’

Tang didn't grace Cian with an answer, keeping a white-knuckled grip on his pants.

Before either could break the new silence, Zach spoke ahead. “I'm going to take a small back road if that's okay. Be warned, it's a little bumpy as it's mainly gravel and dirt.”

Tang just gave a hum of affirmation, looking back out his window at the dimming sky and the trees now blocking his view as the car detoured to the back road.

Cian didn't speak again after that, disappearing from view. The dust dropped abruptly as it did so, letting Tang continue his car ride with some semblance of peace.

Previous | Next | Start

Hello dear friends, 🌟

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Redo Poll

I did something to the poll which I don't know what happened, but it gave some of the answers random votes so ima redo the poll here.

Don't mention how I was so tired that I spelled monkey wrong about 5 times...

Have an Allan doodle!

Testing week sucks, especially since people keep assigning end-of-the-year assignments one on top of the other, adding on to the SOLs I already have to take. Because of this, I'll be working most of today and this weekend. I will try to update Monday because of this, and I already have the outline of Chapter 11 ready for fleshing out. Thank you for reading, and I hope you all have a great day!

Small Tang Ramble

Right now, I have started rewatching the entire Lego Monkie Kid series from the start while I wait to see the recent season 5 episodes (that I was suckerpunched with when scrolling through Tumblr and having some stuff spoiled whene I didnt even think a new season would come for at least a few more months).

Then, when I finally got to season 4, I noticed something interesting with how they handle Tang's powers.

At the start of the season, it's revealed that Tang's cheat sheet, given to him by Azure Lion, was something that supposedly should've been helpful to someone "mysticly powerful, comparable to the Great Monk, Tang Sanzang", then the sheet should be a piece of cake so to speak.

Then we see how Tang struggles and has a hard time finding where his friends are located, but then a Golden Cicada helps him to find Pigsy, which was the same one that flew around the Samadhi Fire ritual site when Mei had it reunited within her.

That's not my topic right now, though, so I'll just skip the "random destiny bugs" (name given to me by a friend), and keep going towards my main point.

Anyways, skipping a few episode to when the meet the Great Master (I forgot the guys name), we see how Tang got berated for his lack of courage and work ethic. Then Tang and the rest of the gang are put to train, and I'm not exactly sure on how long they were in training for, but I'm going to assume a few hours at the sky visibly got darker near the end of the montage.

(I'm pretty sure that something akin to a stop in time for them to train would have been stated in the show itself if that was an explanation for how long they have been training for, so I'm gonna rule out any sort of "checkpoint" or "rest stop" rules here, like when you can stay in a safe space for whatever amount of time and come out with little time passed afterwards.)

The reason why I'm talking about how long they've trained for, is because after (what I assume) is a few hours, Tang is able to teleport a WHOLE AIR BALLOON, RIGHT ON TOP OF WHERE THEY NEEDED TO BE, WITHOUT HIS STAFF NO LESS.

*ahem* We know Tang had struggled with the teleportation magic from the beginning, even with his staff along with only transporting 3 people, and the magic level required to do so is comparable to the Monk, who is very powerful considering what we've seen in how his training was revered by the great master for being extensive plus how the Monk focussed only on his studies, and in-show examples. (Ex. Releasing the heavenly seal put on monkey king singehandedly, sealing the Samadhi Fire along with three others, then also Sealing the Lady Bone Demon to where she can only escape through her self reflecting or a rare, mystical key, etc)

I'm just saying how it's very impressive how Tang could go from barely being able to teleport accurately with 3 people, the staff in hand, to figuring out how to teleport accurately, how to teleport something as big as an airship, and then gaining enough focus/mystic power to do the teleport without his staff for this first time shown in the show. And remember this: all of this growth was in, at most, half a day.

And we know how long the Great Monk had to study to get to where he was, "learning everything there was to learn" with him blocking out anything else to focus purely on his studies to get where he was, and yes, he probably studied more than just the teleportation magic in his time, but Azure said it himself, that someone "mysticly powerful, comparable to the Great Monk, Tang Sanzang" should be able to figure out the cheet sheet, or at least versed in the mystical topic.

I already showcased how much work is really needed through that comment, but then Azure showed it again in his comment of "if hes learned it in the mystical arts.." describing how this would have needed to be taught like how they gang were forced to with the Great Master. We already know how hard the training from the Great Master was to get even a fraction of Mk's power, and considering how heavily it's put on how the Monk only studied and studied when it was talked about, with the students in the flashback looking like the ones under the Great Master, I would assume learning the mystic arts takes a similar amount of time and effort.

And now that my points have been laid out, you guys get it when I was gobsmacked at how quickly Tang grew in the time with the Great Master, reiterating my point of how Tang was able to figure out HOW TO DO TELEPORT AND AIRSHIP WITHOUT THE CHEAT SHEET, WITH HIS BARE HANDS, IN A MATTER OF HOURS when it was heavily implied (from what interpreted) that doing something like this would take a considerable amount of time and training, even for the Monk as he was said to only focus on his studies to optimize his mystic abilities and to block any distractions.

And then to add to this, it was only ever shown in the show that Tang only read throughout the entire training session. Whenever we see him in the montage, it's him reading scrolls no matter what. We never see him practice, or even mimic any of the moves or exercise that I would assume would be on those scrolls for him to learn. Then, the first time he ever put those ideas he read about into practice after using the staff the entire time before and messing it up, he was able to make the transportation of the airship fast, accurate, and without the help of the staff entirely.

TLDR: Tang is either so good at cramming that he was able to shorten a good year of learning into a couple hours, or he's severely gifted in the mystic arts with the right training or examples. Either way, if you gave this man a week in the scroll library with some noodles and motivation from the Great Master, then I would assume he might actually become one of the most powerful characters LMK, given the time to do so. Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

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A World Without Him

Chapter 11

(TW some strong language and minor blood)

Tang could feel himself wake from unconsciousness. His body became solid as he was pulled from the void that made up his dreams.

His eyes and limbs felt heavy, as if he was buried beneath the ground. Still, he could barely feel a cold breeze flow over his forehead as he listened to the sounds around him.

The rustling of curtains, birds chirping outside, distant voices of people on the street, and his own breathing flow into his ears. The sounds distant, yet too loud as they rushed into his head.

Then he tried to focus on his surroundings instead of losing himself in the white noise, as that wouldn't help him move any time soon.

Now Tang felt the smooth and cold surface he was laying on. The grooves of age in what seemed to be hardwood flooring gave him an idea of where he'd been placed after he collapsed outside...

How did I even get back inside, in my bedroom, no less? My apartment's on the 5th floor...

The hard floor dug into his side as he felt his clothes and hair had layers of grime on them. It gave an uncomfortable weight to his clothes. Then he remembered this was what he had on while at the library.

Don't think about that.

The point being, he was covered from head to toe in dust and other debris. He must have looked crazy yesterday when he ran panicked through the streets.

I shouldn't have left.

With a sigh and with his eyes still heavy, he planned to start pushing himself off the floor to stop the stabbing pain in his side.

However, he could barely sit up straight before he felt two hands grab harshly onto his shoulders. His eyes flung open as he was pushed up into a standing position by the hands, stumbling forwards from the excess force like a rag doll.

He snapped his head around to look behind him, but he couldn't see anything because of his damaged vision. A blurry silhouette was all he could barely see before it seemed to dissipate back into thin air.

Tang froze in place, waiting for the thing to make another move. Yet, he didn't hear or feel anything else for the minutes he stood completely still.

A small chuckle broke out from his short, silent breaths. He then broke into manic laughter as tears ran down his face and onto the hardwood floor. He could barely breathe as the laughter kept getting louder and louder as he doubled over.

'...Geeze, has he already gone insane?'

'From our efforts in stopping the big guy, I don't really blame him.'

Tang's laughter abruptly stops, his vocal cords stinging from continuous use. He shoots up, grasps his glasses, and looks around his room frantically for the source of the voices. He finds nothing other than a breeze from the open window.

The laughter returns, now louder than before. "I'm going insane!" He runs a hand through his hair, ruffling strands into his face. "I just wanted everything to go back to normal! I JUST WANTED TO BE FREE OF THESE FUCKING VOICES! I never wanted any of this!"

Smoke started to rise from where Tang stood on the hardwood floor as tears started to run down his face once again. "But no! I have to almost die! I have to see someone I care about LOSE A FUCKING LEG! I have to be tortured every night through my nightmares and have them FOLLOW ME THROUGHOUT THE DAMN DAY!"

Everything was suddenly too quiet for Tang as his labored breathing echoed through the bedroom. Tear streaks ran rapidly down his cheeks and onto the steaming floor.

He stared as the drops fell and dispersed among the ground. He could hear more whispers enter his mind, but he couldn't care less at the moment.

A small chuckle was the only warning before he bolted out of the bedroom, through the complete mess of a living room, and into the bathroom.

He wanted to be free of the filth covering his body. The dust and debris that killed maimed Allan when those monsters attacked the library...

Monsters?

Don't go farther down that road.

Tang only sighed at his thoughts before stripping and seeing the scorched handprints on the back of his overcoat. He grimaced before dropping it onto the ground, putting his glasses onto the edge of the sink and throwing himself into the shower. The scalding hot water turned his skin red as the stinging replaced the grime that used to cover his body.

Still, he scrubbed and scrubbed at his skin and hair until he was sure there was no more filth stuck to his body. Afterward, he let the water flow over him as he stood unmoving. Closing his eyes, he relished over the burning feeling.

He only opened them again when the water started to turn cold: the heat no longer being supported from his overuse. He slowly turned the knob to stop the water before stepping out and grabbing a towel off of the door handle.

After ruffling his hair with the towel and wrapping it around his waist, he sat down onto the toilet seat to take a breather. The cold air from the door left ajar helped him to cool down and think.

Am I really going insane? He thought. This has happened too many times to write off by now. Why is this even happening to me?

Why can't everything just end?

He choked up quiet sobs, putting his head into his arms. The lights above him flickered, and yet he just couldn't care anymore. He looked up blankly at the light bulb before rubbing his eyes and standing up to walk to the mirror.

He took his glasses off of the sinks edge and leveled them onto his face. He noticed the left side was cracked as he looked into the fogged up mirror, seeing the left side in pieces.

Tang grumbled as he wiped the mirror to uncover his eyes so he could see the damage done.

The lights flickered. He gasped as he saw his eyes suddenly turn blinding orange with blood splatter caked over his face in the mirror-

*CRACK*

Pieces of the mirror fell to the floor. His knuckles barely stung from the force he put into the punch. The mirror was now cracked and scattered onto the tiled bathroom floor.

With his heartbeat steady, Tang slowly pulled his fist from the reflective remnants. A hole through and mirror and into the back wall was now shown, some blood speckled in from his cut hand.

Holding his curled up hand, he saw the small shards now embedded into his knuckles: small trails of blood running down his arm.

He stared blankly at the cuts before rummaging into his cabinets and taking out a nail kit. It took some effort, but he was able to wrangle out tweezers from the case eventually.

He washed the hand with warm, soapy water before taking the tweezers and slowly pulling out each shard. His face was blank the entire time as he took each chunk out of his skin, even when washing his hand again and wrapping it up in bandages.

The whole debacle was over in a few minutes, even though it felt like hours to him. He looked back at the mirror. I guess I have to put another thing onto the to-do list.

Brushing the shards off the ground and clothes he left on the bathroom tile, he threw them into the bin and walked back into the living room.

In the messy state that it was, he could see many random pieces of clothing all over the floor and broken furniture. He could see leather jackets, old headbands, and even a Pigsy's shirt from when he used to work there.

Yet the thing that caught his eye was his matching jacket and pants he used to wear for special occasions. The soft navy fabric of the jacket and gray fabric of the pants Tang remembered helping calm him in those high tension situations.

The overcoat was long and had silver floral designs at the bottom near the calves and on the cuffs of the sleeves. The pants were similar, having those same floral designs at the pant cuffs. They were both hung over what was left of the coffee table.

He barely had to think before putting them on with underwear, a tan turtle neck, black flats, and the maroon scarf he snagged from his old clothes pile. It had the least debris on it.

Now feeling snug against multiple layers, which made him feel less cold and empty, he could finally do, erm...

Why did he dress up anyway?

He really didn't know why he put in this much effort, but now he supposes he might as well go out and do something other than being cooped up in his apartment.

Walking into his bedroom, he noticed the window was still open from the night before. The breeze barely bothered him as he shut the window yet again.

Now, hopping onto his bed, Tang reaches for his cracked phone to see if anyone messaged him for something. The only things in his notifications were a text from Pigsy and some ads about manga sales and new releases.

He then suddenly remembered how he had promised to see Pigsy. Yesterday morning, where he basically had a mental breakdown the entire day...

I am going to get so much crap for this.

He sat up and out of bed before turning off his phone. Maybe if he got there quick enough today, Pigsy would be a bit more forgiving? Who is he kidding, but maybe it was better to get it over with and a good distraction from what happened yesterday.

With that plan set in his mind, Tang took quick strides out of his apartment after locking it, of course, and started to walk the regular path to Pigsy's noodles.

The day was cloudy, yet no rain was supposed to come down today. With the sun blocked out, everything seemed a bit less vibrant than usual, which he was glad for as it would be a bit overwhelming otherwise with all the neon to go with the sun's rays.

The walk was quiet up to Pigsy's, putting him on edge as he looked back, on top of roofs and into alleys to see if anyone was following more times than he could count. Yet when he got to the shop door, there was something wrong with it: it was closed. Pigsy's was closed, on a weekday, during rush hour.

Oh no, did something happen to him?!

Tang quickly took out his phone to text Pigsy and realized he still had a message from him he hadn't read yet. Sitting on one of the outside benches, he opened the text from Pigsy

Pigsy 🍜🩷

10:46 AM

Pigsy: Hey

Pigsy: Just letting you know Mk dragged us onto a trip to Flower Fruit Mountain to help wrangle some Monkeys for Monkey King or something, might be gone for a few days.

Pigsy: I couldn't tell you earlier because Mk just grabbed me and Sandy out of the shop and I could barely close it in time.

Pigsy: I tried to tell them what we had planned but Mk and Mei were too energetic to reason with

10:47 AM

Pigsy: I'm sorry for ditching you yesterday, but we're still having that talk when I get back. No excuses.

Tang just stared at the message, trying to reason with what it said.

Mk took Pigsy and Sandy without me? I know they haven't talked to me much lately, but they still would've dragged me along to whatever stunt they were going to pull. Even if not, they would have told me before doing anything! There wasn't even a text...

That left a gross feeling in Tang's chest.

And what if I had shown up yesterday? I wouldn't have even known if they were okay until this mornings text! Did they not even think about how worried I would've been? Did they even consider how I could have felt at all?

He only shook his head at the thoughts, trying to drive away the bad feelings that came with them. He knows he and Mk haven't talked much lately; the same goes for Sandy and Mei, but he still knows what's going on with them! He still talks and tells them what's happening through the group chat to show he's still there!

Yet why does it feel as though I've been forgotten about? Why do I feel a sense of doubt now? He thinks as he leans back onto the bench.

He thinks back to the library, an unwanted thought crossing his mind. Mk didn't even try to keep the damages to a minimum as he redirected the strikes to the roof instead of blocking them with his staff.

And he looked so carefree and happy after the incident! Did Mk even know Tang was there? Did he even think about the possible damages he had caused? And he just leaves afterward, posing with tea and smiling!

Do they ignore or filter everything he says?

...Does Mk even care about him anymore?

...

...

I should stop.

All this self-loathing is getting him nowhere. It's not as if he was hurt during the battle. He doesn't have a right to be angry about a lack of care when someone got it worse than him.

Now, his thoughts were back to Allan. He didn't deserve anything that happened to him that day. He had gotten it so much worse than him, so why is Tang complaining?

Suddenly, an idea crossed his mind. He could check all the hospitals near the library to see if Allan was registered anywhere! It's not a full proof plan, but it was something worthwhile he could do while he was already out of a slump.

So he started to walk to the library, or what was left of it, to see if he could start there. When he arrived, he could barely believe what he could see. The entire roof is gone, save the few glass panels still stuck on the back, the walls were seemingly about to crumble at a slight breeze, and different holes ranging from sizes were stuck throughout the building, making it dangerous if most of it weren't already crumbled onto the ground.

Yellow tape covering the premises swayed back and forth as Tang walked onto the parking lot sidewalk, not daring to get closer lest something were to fall again.

He already had a bad feeling when he arrived, and it almost got doubly worse when he stopped at the sidewalk. Nevertheless, he had wanted to see what the remains looked like, and now he knew. Taking a deep breath and looking away from the building, he checked his phone for the nearest hospitals.

Among the list was one that looked eerily familiar. MSH was listed near the top, and it seemed like a fever dream to be seeing it here.

Now, along with this feeling of familiarity, he felt compelled to follow this lead. Maybe to help the new bad feeling in his stomach from those letters, but he'll try anyways.

The walk isn't that far; it's about the same length it takes to get to the docks from his apartment. When he arrives in front of the hospital, he suddenly gets a sense of deja vu, like he's been here before.

Ignoring the feeling, he steps through the doors and heads up to the receptionist at the desk. "Hey there." Tang greeted a bit awkwardly. The receptionist just smiled. "Hello there, how can I help you today?"

Tang seemed to lose vigor as he continued to speak. "Erm, I was wondering if you had any teenage admitants named Allan? I-I was just wondering since I was his colleague at the library when it got attacked, and I know it's probably personal information but-"

The receptionist held her hand up halfway through his ramble. "I understand your concern, and if he is permitted here and allows friends to visit, you're welcome to see him. I'll just have to see if he's registered in our care, so please give me a moment."

Tang sheepishly sat down at one of the lobby seats as the receptionist went back to typing on her computer. After about 10 minutes, she called him back up to the desk. "We do have an Allan Bentley in room 1225. He's in for an injured leg, is allowing visitors, and he came from the library attack. Is he who you're looking for?"

He knew it was Allan from the leg injury; he saw him get wheeled away himself. He quickly affirmed the receptionist and thanked her before moving towards the elevator.

Following the signs on the walls with little difficulty, he was able to find room 1225. Yet, Tang hesitated in front of the door. Did Allan even want to see him? Did Allan blame him for what happened? He wouldn't put it past the kid if he did.

But he wanted to see if he was alright. Wanted to see Allan breathing and alive, even if that was a bit selfish of him since he's the one who slowed him down in the first place.

So before he can back out of it, he opens the door. The room is steril and white, with the acception of some window stickers from previous patients, most likely.

He walked slowly up the bed and gasped at what he saw. Allan seemed more thin and pale than he remembered. His brows were creased even in his sleep as he breathed slowly in a rhythm.

Tang thought Allan would be awake since visiting hours were still open, but he must be lucky to catch him right after he fell asleep.

Looking at the bedside table, he could see comics of some kind, with the first addition of Monkey Cop at the top. It seemed like Allan was able to keep it, even through the whole debacle.

This lifted a weight off of Tang's shoulders. Seeing how Allan kept the comic must mean he doesn't completely hate him now and is coherent enough to read already, as it seems to have more wear than when he first gave the comic to him.

He gives a small smile as he slowly puts his hand on Allan's head, comforting the kid to uncrease his brows just a bit and feel his chest rise and fall.

He left quickly after that. He couldn't stay in that room much longer when he knew how much pain Allan was in right now. He could see the void where his left leg used to be under the blanket.

The feeling of regret only got worse as the sky started to dim on his way back. Why did Allan have to suffer like that? Why couldn't I save him? Why wasn't he able to make it out okay like everyone else?

It was the fight.

Tang was now in front of his apartment door. He had stopped in front of it as the voice spoke from behind.

That child took to fight too recklessly. He directed the strikes to the ceiling, causing it to fall onto you and Allan.

No, no, it wasn't Mk's fault. There was a lot going on, and everything was just chaos-

Yet the child seemed to deny those stakes. You saw how he moved on so quickly, how he smiled and joked about it afterward, taking nothing about it seriously.

Tang looked to the ground, a gross feeling climbing up his throat.

But he did care! He even reached out to me after he found out I was there!

And that is the problem. He only cared about the companion he could have lost, not for the other lives he'd endangered. Heck, he only started to care when someone else showed him you were there.

The voice spoke with certainty, venom apparent in its tone.

Do you think he would have worried were it not for that reminder? Do you really think he would have looked twice if you were someone unrelated to him?

But Mk is a good kid! He didn't look only because he thought everyone had made it into the shelter.

He started to shake with rage as the voice kept going with its remarks.

Yet he knew you were there, and he didn't even stay to check if you were alright? Did he even know you were there? Did he not give you the simplest time of day that he completely forgot about your existence.

Stop.

Do you really think you matter to him anymore? It's not like he even bothered to tell you about the trip yesterday, where he left you completely alone with no contact. Do you think someone like that is worthy of having those powers?

Stop it.

Someone like that shouldn't be worthy of anything, nonetheless powers to destroy whole cities. You know what happened, and you couldn't save Allan that way. That boy doesn't deserve the abilities he has, and takes them for granted.

Why are you doing this?

Tears roll down Tang's face yet again.

Why should he get these powers? Why should he be the chosen one when you are much more deserving? Why does he get to take power for granted when you struggle every day to keep people safe and survive? Why does he get to feel happy and live without worry while you have to lie down and suffer from how many people you have had to watch die?

"JUST GO AWAY!" Tang's voice cracks as he yells into the open air. Silence is the only thing that greets him as he numbly stares at the door in front of him, still unopened.

His face is now blank. The tear streaks on his face have dried to the point they're stuck on his face. He slowly brings his key to the door and numbly walks inside, seeing the mess of his living room and bathroom of the doorway.

He only ignores the mess, stopping briefly where The Origins of JTTW had been left open before grabbing it and beelining to the bedroom, shutting the door behind him and walking towards the window. He lifts the window up and lets the breeze blow through the room, ruffling the sheets and blanket on the bed.

The cool breeze doesn't bother Tang, though, as he only turns towards the bed and bats the loose strands out of his face from the down hair he didn't bother to put up.

He doesn't lay down on the bed. He instead kicks off his shoes to the side, takes off his cracked glasses, and puts them on the side table with his matching phone.

Then he stares out the open window, looking towards the blurry figures of stars and planets as he lifts up the barely decipherable book showing Golden Cicada.

I can't keep going like this. I need to leave. Maybe that's what these horrible dreams have been trying to tell me. I just want to get away from it all.

He roughly shuts the book and throws it into the wall. Whatever he's dealing with, he's not gonna put up with it anymore starting tomorrow. He's going to leave, and he's going to get better.

That's what he thinks as he falls back into his bed and looks back to the blurry lights once again before blacking out, hopefully for the last time.

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