Chapter 139: Reluctant

Within in the domes was a bit strange. As I briskly trotted back to the place from which we had only just come, I knocked chest and shoulders into many of the slew of leering strangers. The ones who fell victim to my clumsiness—either cursed me, pushed me, or flash an evil look at me. This, as one would expect, reminded me to keep my distance.

I was the only one going back. Back to the strange organization where there were strange women in white, all acting like robots. But I had to go back. I've lost something valuable to me there. 

I stopped at the entrance. It seemed to be locked. I was the last survivor of the invasion, and the last person to make it to this dome from the outside world. That was why the woman in white referred to me as a strange code with the number ten thousand at the end. 

After releasing me, Miguel and Hanso it would appear that they closed shop afterward. I stood in front of the entrance. A few meters away from me, a strange man stood. 

Without turning around to look at me; he started to talk. "You have something in there too, don't you?" his voice was a bit husky.

I shifted on my feet. "Y-yeah," I stuttered, "I do. I left something in there."

"Well too bad," he said, "it's like forever lost now."

I grimaced at him. "Why'd you say that?"

"Those people ... they're not gonna let you have what's lost. They don't give a shit about any of us. The Government was always like this, so no surprise there. I've been waiting hours for them to give me what's been lost. I need it. It's not an object, I can't just have it confiscated."

"I lost a metal bat that means the world to me," I said, "What'd you lost lost?"

"I lost everything," the man said. "But I intend to get it back."

I shifted on my feet. I had to get back to my friends before they got too far. I couldn't afford to waste time here. I cupped both my hands around my mouth, and shouted, "HEY, PEOPLE IN THERE! I LEFT SOMETHING INSIDE!"

"HEY, PEOPLE!"

"I KNOW THIS PLACE HAS CAMERAS! C'MON, OPEN UP!"

"It's fruitless," the man said, "I've tried that already."

I lowered my hands to my side.

"They're not gonna open it unless it's for one of those men in black. And you said you lost a metal bat?" 

"Yeah," I scratched my head, "I did. But it's not just some metal bat, it's—"

"Trashed," the man interjected, "they probably trashed that thing already. They tend to keep the phenomenons such as strange people or people with strange items or Abilities, but anything such as your insignificant belongings is deemed trivial and most likely trashed."

"They can't just do that. The bat's important to me."

He still hadn't turned around. "But they can. What are you, somebody who lived under a rock for all your life? The Government doesn't care."

I did, unfortunately, live under a rock. I was a coward all my life. And then rock was my shelter, my comfort zone. I never ever left my comfort zone. I feared people and changes. I lived under high expectations and autocracy for so long. All in all, I did live under a rock for all my life. 

I furrowed my brows. "I don't care about the Government. I lost something really valuable to only me in there. Something I've cherished. A gift. The only remnants of the world we had before. What's last of the people I love. The only thing I'm good at using. That metal bat, it's my most prized possession. So I have to get in there to retrieve it."

The man sighed. "Same story here for me. But like I said, I didn't lose an object. I lost someone. The last of the outside world. Someone I didn't care about until only recently. I neglected this someone. Loathed this someone. And I know I was wrong. But I've changed. And I've realized that the person in there means the world to me. So I'll do everything in my power to reclaim."

Slowly, he turned around to face me. He possesed brown hair, crimson eyes, and a birthmark on his neck. His physique was strikingly familiar, like I've seen it before. "I knew that girly voice of yours had to belong to a teenager. I reckon you're fifteen years old."

"I'm sixteen," I said, folding my arms. "Ash Woods is the name."

The man smiled. "Ah, sixteen, huh. I was close enough. Well, Ash, you seem like you are the real shit. I'm Xavier, just middle aged man who wishes not to disclose his age."

Xavier ... 

His name was familiar as well. 

"Have I," I asked, "met you somewhere before?"

"No. But I was a cop before getting fired. You know how the cops are. Sorry if we had a bad past or more so first meeting. I don't remember stuff like that, unfortunately."

"Ah, I see. But I doubt we've met before. Yet, I feel like we have met before."

"That doesn't matter," Xavier said, "Not right now it doesn't. The dire objective—which matters a whole lot—is getting back what's in that organization."

"How are we gonna do that?"

"Well," Xavier turned around, walking closer to the exit. "It's either we make a lot of noise and infuriate them or," he stopped, "we burn the whole place down."

I scratched behind my head. "The latter's a bit too much. What if the person you're looking for gets burned in there."

"I know what the consequences are," Xavier said, "but the people aren't gonna let a fire burn all their research and whatnot. So fire could work," he raised his hand, "what do you have at your disposal?"

Was he referring to an ability? 

"Let's try the former, which is making a lot of noise first," I said, walking up to the entrance gate. 

I felt Xavier's eyes on me.

I started knocking on the gate aggressively. "HEY YOU! PEOPLE IN THERE! I'M NOT GONE YET! I'M NOG STOPPING UNTIL YOU OPEN UP! OPEN THE DAMN GATES!" I knocked the gate a multitude of times. 

Then, I leaned on it, trying to push it open. I clenched my teeth. "COME ON, OPEN UP!!!"

Xavier cackled. "I don't think that's gonna wor—"

Suddenly, the gate opened. I was leaning on it, so I went crashing to my face. "I'm okay!" I shook my head, and slowly ascended to my knees.

Then, I slowly looked up at the man towering over me. It was an infuriated man in a black suit, breathing like a Buffalo while glaring dauntingly into my fragile, cowardly soul.