The sounds of the night faintly reached her ears. The Capitán laid motionless on her bed, letting the fragments of noise reach her. Her own room in 131 was devoid of anything practical, even foregoing a bed-frame. There was nothing in the realm of furniture that would’ve been of any use to her, especially not know. The echo summoned by the emptiness was soothing. She’d drag a hand across the hardwood floor, collecting dust and feeling its cold touch. She was aware of how her sensory deprivation affected her, but it was not some puzzle for anyone to solve, not even herself. It was her reality, the way things had been, and always will be. There would’ve been an answer, a cure, if Jiù ēn had waited for her to be born. The thought had slithered through her mind when talking to Closer again. Would he know how to fix her? Had any of the Doctors retained that knowledge? She didn’t ask then, she wouldn’t ask now.
Sleep wasn’t finding her, the Capitán rose without a sound and crossed her room to leave. She ignored her glasses and boots, she would not be leaving the building tonight, by any means necessary she needed rest. Probabilities dancing in her head prevented her from relaxing but she could not make use of her readiness to act, she still needed to wait for the Sun to rise, like the rest of the city. The eventuality of there not being a tomorrow didn’t phase her as she made her way to the Major’s room. He would never leave his door closed and so she stepped in, making an unconscious effort to lighten her steps. No sense of comfort, no use for rest, the Major would’ve been fine never having to close his lenses. But she had instilled in him the rhythm of her own body. It had needed time but right now, the Major was sleeping. A dreamless state of dormancy, that provided nothing of value for him. The Capitán knew he was close, smelling the pleasant aroma perpetually surrounding him. He would not snore, he would not struggle in his torpor, yet as she kneeled close to his bed, she heard his core whistling gently. Almost a melody, its tune likely unique to the state he was in. The Capitán was likely to be the only one in the great expanse who will ever hear these lonely gasps. She still made an effort to be as silent as possible, the Major would still be on his feet and ready to sprint the second any loud enough noise reached him. She wouldn’t touch him either, her nightly visits only served to indulge her with his smell. She stood up slowly, making an effort to prevent her own joints from cracking.
The tip of her fingers silently brushed against the walls as the Capitán roamed the halls of 131. More of an habit than a crutch for her to get her bearings, and a reliable way to find open doors where ones should’ve been closed. Her hand fell in a depression, she found the door’s handle and closed it, still purposefully keeping quiet. The Capitán tried to press a hand on the opposite side of the hallway and found resistance. She would’ve been surprised to find both doors open, at least half of them had found sleep. She found herself struggling to name them as a purpose. She had never attempted to. Apostles. Little Doctors. Titles carried with prejudice, venom or insinuations that she would rather have not heard. Armageddon liked her sleep, she was not particularly well adjusted but at least the Capitán didn’t have to worry about her collapsing somewhere without anyone knowing. The open door on the other hand prompted the Capitán to head down.
Reaching the ground floor, the night’s symphony grew louder. Past the veil over her eyes, she could still feel shifting lights, breaking the dark that enveloped her. A subtle, even beckoning feeling, as if it was the concept of light stimulating the nerve endings behind her irises. Staring at the Sun long enough would provoke the same reaction, one the Capitán didn’t pay much attention to. The large main hall was still devoid of clutter, they had managed to stay focused for an entire day. She would need them to focus for a while longer still, and so the Capitán headed to the basement.
“Can you hear me?” The Capitán whispered.
To the Major, to herself. Her voice didn’t carry, nothing in the great building reacted, the stairs engulfed everything. As far down as she could go, her hand went back to brushing the wall in her wake. Beneath the earth, the walls and floors were as cold as ice, the Capitán felt her breath turn into mist under her nose. This time even raising her heels to not knock too hard against the hard tiles, she reached her destination. Another open door, a threshold where the harsh cold suddenly turned into sickly humidity. Drowning silence in the basement betrayed another breath, one that was not paying any attention to her, one that hadn’t noticed her. The Capitán snapped her fingers, close to the ground. The sudden noise startled the other presence, but the snap had conveyed to the Capitán how far she was from her mark. Without hesitation, she sent her arm forward, catching Willow’s shoulder, and brought a hand against her mouth, pining her on the ground where she had been sitting. Whereas her immediate reaction had been to lash out violently, the moment Willow realized whose hand was over her face, her body went limp in the Capitán’s arms.
“Shhh, you wouldn’t want the Major to drag you back to your room, hm?”
The Capitán kept her hand pressed over her face, she knew Willow could talk. She didn’t need to verify that.
“I’m sure despite how busy we all are, he still brought you both to bed, and you sneak away still? Want to get him in trouble? Want to get in trouble?” The Capitán continued, still whispering.
She didn’t really seek an answer. Clutching her body, the Capitán could feel her heartbeat, even past the usual surprise it was still beating to an impassioned rhythm. Willow’s body heat rising clashed with the humidity, sending chills over her skin that the Capitán felt, her other hand blocking her forearm. She let go of her mouth, the temperature condensed the mist of their breaths, soaking the air around them. Given freedom, Willow still remained silent, making an effort to breathe more and more steadily. The Capitán didn’t visit this room often, it was Willow’s personal playground. A thermal regulated backspace full of terrariums for her white worms colonies. Unlike Armageddon, this place was more of a safe space than her own room. Her personal study of the last living insect on Terra left her alone with any findings she would find, and she was fine with that. The Capitán had provided her with the opportunity, the material and the free time to indulge, but as adept as Willow was in biology, she needed to be chaperoned for everything else that kept humans alive. The Major was up to the task, but with the Capitán teaching him how to sleep, there were now ways for Willow to avoid him for hours at a time. She didn’t need them both to be perfect, the Capitán made no effort to beat the diligence into their bodies.
“I couldn’t sleep.” Willow replied, her whispering voice almost inaudible.
“Me neither, you see, but we have to try, there’s still much to do.”
Willow mumbled in agreement. She hadn’t moved an inch from when the Capitán had grabbed her, almost nestling beneath her shoulder. The Capitán accepted the embrace and held Willow’s head against her chest. Devoid of verbal and body strength, she likely could’ve fallen asleep right there. Sleeping in such a high humidity environment would’ve left her severely weakened and the Capitán couldn’t spare that time. She would lead Willow back to her room, but like this, so close they could be melting together, she wanted to pry a prize out of her.
“Are you having fun?”
“It’s difficult…”
“Closer told me as much, can you hold onto to anything?”
“I tried, it’s difficult, it’s all upside down, my worms refuse it.”
“They don’t try to eat away at the flesh?”
The Capitán felt Willow shake her head below her chin. A weak movement, yet her heart was still beating as fast as before. Four beats from her to one beat from the Capitán. She knew that white worms also felt their way through soil with echolocation, could they hear their duo of hearts right now? She had held one in a cup of her hands once. Disgusting, helpless and witless creatures, only still alive by the chance of a resilient constitution. It was a cynic mockery that the only living creatures left in the world aside from the last myrrh and humans were those faceless grubs. The Capitán would never understand Willow’s obsessive fixation with them, but she didn’t need to. At the time, an overtly aggressive and misanthropic Willow needed someone to hold her mind still. The Capitán would be that savior, so that noone else would try.
“Arma… she…” Willow’s voice wavered, “Her and the Doctor, they found a good track. She already started going through the data. Everything I tried, World-Eater pushed away. It looks and sound like everything I know but it’s like it’s all fake, like in a dream. My worms turn lethargic, bacteria avoids it, it’s like it’s not there but it’s still there…”
“And Arma only needs it to exist for it to matter.”
Willow let out a weak sob. She had begun clinging to the Capitán’s vest, her legs no longer supporting any part of her body.
“You need a reaction,” The Capitán continued, leaning closer to her ear, increasing the tempo of Willow’s heart even further, “We know World-Eater can burn, it is not immutable. This whole thing is just another puzzle for us to crack.”
Even if she had meant the words for Willow, they echoes back to her as shallow reassurance. Amidst the smell of moisture and dirt, deep in the back of her throat, the Capitán still remembered the underbelly’s mortuary fumes. Nothing about that place clung to her physical body, what remained was etched into her soul, leaving a mission, a purpose. The cogs were spinning, threads weaving, synapses firing. All around her, in her cradle, they were fighting her war. Willow, Armageddon, Closer, the Major and…
“The Doctor, don’t like him. Scoffed at my worms before I even brought them.”
The Capitán expected friction between them, as it brewed naturally between Armageddon and Willow already. All three of them could find enough to disagree on for them to never get bored, the past day proved it wouldn’t impede their work too much. She was used to the two of them but now was the best environment to discern everything she could from Closer without needing to ask anything.
“Tell me what you think about him.”
“Talks mean,” Willow replied without hesitation, “Walks stiff like MJ, he spent more times on the bones than anything else.”
The rascal hadn’t shared that piece in their previous conversation. Did he think she wouldn’t find out? Did he intend on her learning through Willow and Armageddon and thus refrained from sharing it directly to her? Hadn’t they reached common ground where they could express their intent freely?
“His left index is missing. I’m sure Arma noticed too.”
The Capitán brought her head backwards. She was sure that would be something she would have noticed, she had shaken hands with him on more than one occasion.
“He’s hiding it,” Willow continued, nestling herself deeper against her, “Probably a prosthetic under his gloves but I haven’t seen him without them yet.”
The Capitán couldn’t repress a twisted smile, the putrid cunt had taken the opportunity of leaving the laboratory to change gloves in front of her. Why hide such an innocuous detail? And there she thought they could find some common ground in looking incomplete at a glance. Less than frustrated, the Capitán was delighted that Closer was participating in those empty schisms of theirs even under the threat of World-Eater. Below the earth and the roar of nightlife, there was still time to indulge in petty machinations. Her own heartbeat had risen to match half of the tempo of Willow’s. No need for doubt, no need for hesitation. One foot after the other. Every piece would click into place as long as she moved forward. Such bliss should be fatal. Willow reacted to the rising rhythm and looked up to her. The Capitán took advantage of her leaning away for a second to rise to her feet, leading Willow to rise as well, grabbing her from under her shoulders. Willow didn’t struggle, pulling her own weight along the Capitán’s will. Both on their own two feet, the Capitán leaned down to press her forehead against Willow’s, still whispering.
“Even if World-Eater keeps evading you, keep your eyes on closer.”
She hadn’t meant this sentence as a request, and Willow didn’t say anything more. The Capitán knew, even surrounded by her life’s visceral fixation, that Willow was staring only at her. The Capitán had no pity to spare for the worms, they lived in a different dimension altogether. They were both mindless recipients and clueless victims of the whims of one of her Cors, endlessly digging through recycled soil between glass panes. They could live long enough for that realization to reach them but it never would. It was never their world to conquer.