Descending multiple floors by dragging his foot with his blood-soaked boots, time passed in a feverish order. Only focusing on moving and holding his hand against his split stomach, the passage of seconds felt like minutes, and minutes like seconds.
He could only hope by some miracle that the nameless man would not return, having to pray on pure chance as he dragged his feet.
'Not much...further–keep going,'
he urged his body.
The front door of the apartment complex came in sight as he traversed the final flight of stairs. It took every part of him not to fall over as he brought his foot over the last step.
"A bit...more. C'mon...Finn," he told himself.
His eyelids became heavy while watching that door, dragging one foot at a time. The warmth in his gut radiated intensely, almost as if stirring up the closer he got to the door before—
"Ngh...!"
He winced, tripping over his own blood just a few strides from the entrance. Using his shoulder again, he opened the door, though not before falling down as soon as he made it past the threshold.
"Hhfk..."
He laid there on his own hand, trying to hold every price of him still inside. On the concrete steps outside of the complex, he looked at the street and the neighboring buildings, not finding a single soul.
"...Aaahh..."
A gasp left his lips, intending to call for help, intending to speak the names of those he could rely on, but nothing came out. Total weakness has overtaken his bled body, though it was already a miracle he had made it this far.
'I can't...I can't pick myself up anymore. I just...I just wish he was here,'
from the innermost depths of his mind, he hoped.
As everything began to fade, the personal memories brewing in his mind of who he wanted to see the most, who he knew he could rely on in situations like this were spoken through one word. While losing consciousness, he didn't know why exactly he said it, only that it's what his brain had opted for as it left his lips–
"
...Replication
..."
Given material from his flickering consciousness was a friend, one lost; the embodiment of reliable, strong-willed, and a helping hand in the young man's mind. He could hardly see a thing, only the silhouettes of what laid in front of him before he found himself being helped to his feet by the manifestation of his word.
Finn found his arm being slung over the sturdy shoulders of the doppelganger, being helped to walk as he kept his hand pressed against his stomach.
"Hhff...Hff..." He slowly breathed.
While he was being helped to walk, the strength and broad build of the one manifested to help him more so carried him, only in a more graceful, respectful fashion that lacked any disgrace.
Finn glanced over with his weary gaze, unable to even realize what his consciousness had brought to form for that life-or-death walk, "...Damian...? You're here...? Right...Of course, if I was in trouble...You'd lend me a hand. That's just...the kind of guy you are."
There was nothing said in response, or perhaps he was just simply too deprived of energy to listen to a single word.
Of course, nothing needed to be said. That was how friendship worked; an unspoken bond–he knew that, simply wearing a small smile as a sense of relief flooded over his mutilated body.
"Thank you," he expressed his gratitude with the last bit of strength before he found his consciousness finally losing its threads to hold onto.
"I...I..." Finn tried to speak what he knew.
Attempting to string together any information of what he witnessed brought a lump in his throat, a chill across his skin as though empty whispers pressed against his ear. His teeth chattered, unable to let him speak a single word.
'What...is this? I shouldn't be this scared—no, I wouldn't be. It's like...the fear has been etched into my body,'
he thought.
"Finn?" Charlotte worriedly called to him.
Just attempting to recall it made his body tremble, one that could not simply be managed by controlling his breathing.
"They're still out there...that man—he's still here," Finn muttered, forcing the words past his lips.
"That man? Who is it? If we can give Nikko a description—" Jasper asked.
There was no hiding the sort of fear he was feeling, though he couldn't stop his mind from thinking. The more he thought about it, the more he was nearing a mortifying realization.
'I was left alive...he wasn't there anymore—it can't be like that, can it?'
He thought.
Finn ignored everything else as he forced himself to sit up, tearing the IVs out of his arms, much to the dismay of his friends.
"Hey!—You shouldn't move around yet!" Charlotte protested.
He didn't listen as he hopped out of the bed, finding his strength returned. Looking around, the first thing he looked for was a change from his hospital garments.
All of his clothes were left folded neatly on a chair by his bed, seeming to have been thoroughly washed.
"Finn? What's up, mate?" Jasper asked.
The silence was broken as Finn spoke what was on his mind, tossing his shirt off as he slid his shirt and coat over his torso, "We have to get out of here and find Nikko–ASAP. The person who did this to me...He's going to strike again soon."
"What're you talking about? Slow down for a minute, mate–can you just tell us what happened?" Jasper genuinely requested.
Finn didn't waste a moment slipping into his clothes, sliding his pants up, adjusting his belt as he slipped his boots on, tightening his laces while speaking, "--It's another of the
Major Arcana
, like the
Moon
that Nikko showed us."
"What? Something like that–?" Charlotte reacted.
Sliding his gloves over his hands, Finn nodded, looking between his companions, "That's what my system showed me."
He neglected to bring up the fact he had met Crow, not wanting to withhold it entirely, but decided it wasn't urgent enough and that it'd only distract from the current issue at hand.
"What kind of freakish monster even was it, then?" Jasper wondered.
"It was a man–a human like us, well, not quite like us," Finn explained.