Undermining a tyrant isn’t easy, and it isn’t safe. Tif knew that before she donned the mask of Unit. Everyone does. Unit couldn’t hide the danger, even if it tried (and Tif’s heard that Julian indeed tried). The Chairman enjoys his examples and his displays. Officially, the bodies that dot the city courthouses are those of ‘undesirables’. People that can’t work and have been so kindly and peacefully put out of their misery.
Unofficially, the people know better.
There is nothing peaceful about how those bodies came to be resting in the grass, whether they were deemed undesirable or they objected to the Chairman.
Waleon’s body hadn’t joined those left to rot. Tif had checked every courthouse in the city for three weeks. If she were more naive, where more hopeful, she’d think he got away somehow. Maybe imagine that Waleon was hiding out, trying to lay low.
But Tif isn’t that naive. Not anymore. If Waleon is alive, he’s being tortured for information. Maybe tortured just for fun. Even then, Tif doubts it. More likely Waleon is dead, and his body is too bloodied and bruised to be displayed. All the city might know the deaths aren’t peaceful, but that doesn’t mean the Chairman wants to announce it.
Waleon is dead.
Tif doesn’t have time to mourn, not really. The war goes on, the loss of her best friend doesn't matter in the big picture of their freedom. Still… it matters to her. It matters endlessly to her. So she finds the time, every second she can, to remember him.
They had a hide away at the top of the Unit building, a blanket fort they made as kids. It’s different now, taken over by someone younger than them. Tif visits, late at night, and remembers.
Sometimes, when the moon was especially bright or especially dark and they couldn’t sleep, they’d watch old movies together. Banned movies, with characters that valued themselves over the production line. Waleon’s favourite was a comedy, now everytime Tif watches it she cries.
Tif didn’t think much about after the Chairman. She didn’t want to make plans that she might never get to do. Waleon made plans. Mostly about travel. All the places he’d go and all the books and movies he’d hunt down. Tif still isn’t sure they’ll win, she doesn’t have the strength to be sure, but she promises to travel for him.
It’s not easy remembering. It’s harder still to let go. But Tif manages, because it’s what Waleon would want.
Almost a year after his death, she joins a mission to destroy the central database. If they can delete enough records, they can watch the city and the Chairman crumble. It’s not going to be easy, but they have enough people-power that it’s possible.
And Tif is starting to believe that, racing down the halls towards the database. She’s starting to let herself hope.
Then she skids to a stop behind the other Unit members, frozen to the spot.
“What’s wrong?” She asks, moving to see past them.
“Don’t look.” Someone warns but it’s too late. Standing in front of the room to the database are three… creatures, experiments, Tif isn’t sure. They’re human, expect they have eight, spider-like legs sprouting from their backs. The legs have their bodies hovering in the air loosely, three sets of blank eyes staring at them. They’d be terrifying enough but what makes Tif truly freeze, what makes her blood run cold, is the creature in the middle.
Waleon.
There’s no doubt in her mind. His hair has grown out, he’s skinnier than she last saw, and, well… he has giant spider legs coming out of his back. But that’s Waleon, her Waleon.
She meets his eyes, his hollow eyes, and she hopes for something.
Facial expression unmoved, Waleon and the others charge towards them.
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