The Capitán sat alone in the empty hall of the depot. Pacing around with her cane, she had found a large bucket in a corner that only housed rainwater. Having let the rest of the water run free, she turned the bucket upside down and used it as a makeshift stool. She’d sent Major away minutes prior, tasking him with an errand back to Byzance. She felt a little bad, casting him aside after dragging him out of Universalis but she needed to be alone.
The Major was a presence the Capitán knew most people thought she relied on for her whole life, as a crutch to guide her way and as a monster to deter any opposition. She didn’t mind the theories, she had never declared in front of anyone what the crux of their relationship entailed and she didn’t plan on doing so.
But now he wasn’t there, the droplets of water falling from the hollow roof had stopped. It was likely all of what remained of the Torrents above ground had evaporated by now, returned to mist in the warm embrace of Volantis. The strong humidity permeating the air was uncomfortable but she liked the newfound silence. Her cane resting on her knees she kept thinking. The Major had told her what he’d seen down below. Rooms after rooms of death, unique, even artistic death, a sight so wicked it would haunt your dreams until the Sun takes you. He hadn’t been as verbose but the descriptions let her mind wander. Had he seemed shaken? He told her the carnage only stopped where he found a locked door. He had forced it open but nothing past this point hinted that anything had made an escape.
But what could’ve escaped from this? The Capitán knew what vile people could be capable of in their sheltered environment, some could get creative like Dove but nothing close to what had happened beneath her feet. What tools were used? She doubted the expedition had been banded together in an effort to mangle themselves in a ritual suicide but the possibility couldn’t be discarded. How much time had the procedure taken? Bonded suicide had happened before, she had encountered it and helped identify family members but these had always been done unceremoniously, almost out of shame. Who was responsible?
She looked nowhere, her glasses tipping on her nose. The pale veil covering her vision didn’t leave much to imagine from where she stood so she focused on the warm breeze. The smell of the underbelly still clogged the back of her throat but she found solace somewhere else, somewhere petty.
She heard steps heading inside, careful steps, but ones that had been thought over. The Capitán knew who it was, she had only needed to be alone for a while. The recruit specializing in camouflage and underhanded violence wouldn’t have shown his head with the Major around. It was a gamble, really, but she came to the conclusion that the reason Dove had avoided her this morning was that the coward had lost trace of his marks above ground and feared coming to her empty-handed. The Capitán could guess where his targets were now. If Dove knew what laid down below, he never would have come here again. She struck her cane down on the ground.
“Dove! Thought you’d never show up!” The Capitán’s voice carried far, echoing in the empty hall. She heard him freeze, her ears were not as sharp as she’d liked but she could imagine her words made his heart stop, “I’m not mad at you, come, come.”
“I’m not sure about that…”
“Come.”
He begrudgingly kept walking and the Capitán rose, turning towards him. The water carpeting the concrete floor had finished evacuating and what little remained had completely evaporated, making his steps loud enough she could gauge the distance between them and how uncomfortable his stride was.
“I’m sorry,” Dove mumbled while getting closer, “I took the night off since there were Torrents and I thought they’d all run directly to the Glassway once they were but when the Knightcall happened they weren’t anywhere to be found… I headed straight back to the depot I was just trying to…”
Dove was trying to minimize his own failures before having to confront her. He couldn’t have salvaged much, but Dove wasn’t stupid, waiting more would only make himself look worse. Now that the Major was away, it was the best opportunity for him to get his story straight to her. The Capitán wondered if he had always played his cards this way or if he had learned this from his time with the Cors. She smiled, putting a hand on his shoulder, she only had to probe the side of his body relative to her height to find it.
“I thought something might’ve happened to you, Dove, you told me you had someone on the inside but I figured you’d still be overlooking. You did great.”
Even if Dove didn’t outright exhale, she could sense him deflate. He should be feeling an overwhelming sense of relief, knowing the risk he took by talking to her now paid off. His personality wasn’t as translucent as his habits.
“Of course,” Dove said decidedly, “What happened then, are they all still down there?”
“Why don’t you come with? You can introduce me to this informant of yours!”
The Capitán rubbed his shoulder fiercely and waved her hand, letting him lead the way before picking the bucket she sat on and heading towards the stairs. She could hear him walk more confidently than before, as if the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulder.
“It’s almost anti-climactic you know? I saw the Major leave and thought they’d all left nothing behind…”
“You’ll just have to apologize to him for making him skip Uni classes.”
“I think I can survive that!” Dove chuckled.
The Capitán held onto the railing and dragged the bucket behind her, loudly banging it against the steps as they made their way down.
“What’s the bucket for anyway?” Dove asked.
“Souvenir.”
They reached the bottom and the alcove. Dove stopped in his tracks, likely waiting for her to lead the way in. The Capitán sat on the third to last step, the bucket solemnly laid on the floor next to her and waved at him to go on inside. The bottom of the stairs were now dry as well, only a low gurgling could still be heard from deep within the water conduits. The humid air was even thicker at the bottom of the stairs, making her skin sweat. She didn’t remember how long it had taken her to notice the smell the first time. Her nose was now focused on the dank odor that rose from the conduits. She didn’t count his steps, her mind wanted to catch the moment he would notice.
She heard the slip of a boot, then a crash. He must’ve fallen trying to turn around, she could hear him struggling to his feet and dashing towards her. She waved an index in front of her and pointed towards the bucket. Dove could’ve pushed her aside but even in this moment he must have realized he wouldn’t have made it far. The rustle of him panicking to remove his mask and his frantic panted breath made for an obnoxious cacophony. The Capitán found solace in it.
Dove managed to get his mask off and let it fall to the ground before any embarrassing accident and upended his stomach’s contents inside the bucket. The Capitán found the mask with her cane and slid it towards her to inspect it.
Light texture, narrow eye lenses, one rectangular and the other rhombus shaped. She could feel some decoration in the embroidery on the sides and the mouthpiece. The Major had told her Dove was always dressed head to toe with the intent to not be seen, she was surprised at the surplus of detail on the mask, was it as discreet as he’d claimed? Neither her nor the Major had any opinions on stealth, maybe her trust in the vigilante had been misplaced.
Dove was still panting and gasping for air, slowly dragging the bucket as far as he could away from the alcove and her, “What the fuck? What the fuck?” he muttered between breaths.
“Come on, you barely made it inside, your informant has to be in there somewhere,” The Capitán rose again and grabbed Dove by the back of his now exposed neck, “Why don’t we go say hi together? They must be thrilled to have completed a task for the Cors, and it’s all thanks to you! Can you imagine, how grateful they must look right now? Don’t you want to see it? I can’t ever appreciate such a sight, could you describe everything to me?”
Dove went limp in her grasp, hanging for dear life to the bucket, “Please no. I’m sorry.’
“Sorry for what, Dove?”
The Capitán clasped her hands on his face, tracing the lines of his traits, following the shape of his features with her fingers and nails. His skin was cold was pearling with sweat. No wrinkles from age but she expected that, a thin brow and a slightly crooked nose. Wide eyes and hollowed cheeks, flat and scarred ears revealed by short shaven hair. No facial hair, or at least clean shaven to the point where she couldn’t feel any. A prominent chin with a narrow jaw bone. She felt tears forming and rolling down his nose.
“I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t know…”
The Capitán didn’t need to be convinced. She let him go and he fell to his knees, repeatedly attempting to snort back his tears.
“I don’t know either, Dove. I’m going to find out what happened and you’re going to get up, put your mask back on and help me.”
He meekly caught his mask from her hands. The Capitán felt him shivering when he grasped the mask, she didn’t feel the need to say more now, the guilt would carry the rest. A whirlwind of smells still assaulted her but the interaction had revitalized her. It was time to put all the gears into action.
The Capitán sat back down on the stairs, leaving enough space for Dove to barely be able to squeeze by her, “Go find me a portable camera and fetch me Doctor Closer.”