It seemed harmless at first.

Easily regarded by pretty much everyone as just fatigue or stress related sickness that caused him to stay in bed for most of the day and even miss on several shows, as opposed to days he'd go out to hang around town for a couple of hours.

But things became more of a concern when the loud and angry performer became much more docile and slowly unresponsive, until he began shutting himself in his room for days.

“Hey, Tris...” Divi leaned against the backrest of the couch the faceless man was sitting on. “Vince is going to be okay. Right?”

“Of course.” Tris replayed with the same monotonous tone Divi has come to learn to interpret, knowing that if he had a face he'd give him a reassuring smile. “It's probably just a virus. I'm sure that after a decent rest he'd be back to his strengths.”

“But it's been almost a week.”

“He has been straining himself to a limit.” Tris shrugged. “A good long rest will be good for him.”

“Yeah, you're probably right.” Divi cracked a smile and looked out the doors leading out to an unkempt garden, featuring a piece of the cloudy winter sky. Thunders rolled in the distance as another rain shower was approaching.

The kid mused at the thought of what fire-breathers do when it rains, and as he did he turned to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water.

He walked to Vince's room, trying with all his might to truly convince himself it was just some normal illness.

While he never saw either Vince or Tris sick before, Vince never slept for as long as he did this past week. He usually insisted on not sleeping to make more of his time and had to be put to rest.

Quietly, Divi opened the door and peeked inside. Vince was still laying on the bed, fully clothed and sound asleep. Not even the creak of the hinges made him budge when Divi walked in.

Taking a long look at him, Divi had to make sure he was still breathing to know he was still alive, and felt a mixture of relief and concern seeing that he was.

“I hope you'll be back soon.” the kid hummed with a sad sigh and put the water bottle next to his bed. “Gets too quiet around without you.” he spoke mostly to himself, and walked out of the room.

If only he knew this will be the last time he'll be seeing Vince as he is...

~~

As if he was taking a light nap, a flash of lightning made the seemingly dead man shoot up in his bed, now sitting up straight, fully alert.

But while clearly alive, a deathly facade still decorated his complexion; dull, gray skin, and an empty stare gazing from a pair of lackluster golden eyes.

It appeared as though something else has awoken within him.

In his stead.

He turned to put his feet on the floor, and a sound akin to shattering crystal filled the air. Something around him broke, another set lifted off the main stage at the end of a scene.

His pants grayed out, left with only a patch of red at the end of each sleeve, and two, partially mangled metallic feet slipped out of his shoes within two steps.

Reaching for his coat, every spot he grabbed turned gray as well with some red lining flaring through; putting his arms through the sleeves, both came out in a similar manner to his feet. He even took a moment to admire the finely crafted prosthesis that, while dented and sharpened out of their original form, still worked like a charm.

For the final touch, he pulled on the collar of his jacket, stretching it to form a hood over his head, washing away the charcoal-black and red color of his hair into a pale blue, almost metallic color.

From that moment on, Vince has ceased to exist.

~~

“Vince...?” Divi mumbled sleepily and sat up, after falling asleep on the couch, listening to the soothing pitter patter of raindrops outside. He was sure that he'd heard a faint sound coming from the sleeping man's room.

It was already dark outside and the room was dimly lit under the aging light fixture above them.

“Tris...Hey, Tris. I think he woke up!”

The faceless man seemed rather distracted, and the kid couldn't tell whether he was excited or not, and just looked over towards the door, slowly getting up as Divi sprung off the couch.

He felt both excitement and relief seeing the door was slightly ajar.

“Vince! Vince! I'm so glad you're feeling-” Divi's words were cut off abruptly upon swinging the door open. “-better...” his voice turned to almost a squeak.

In there stood someone he had never seen before, whose mere presence filled the boy with dread.

The man didn't seem to pay any attention to Divi, and was busy examining his own hand, gently stroking it with the other; they were both made of metal, bare under remnants of what he hoped was artificial skin, and the scraping sound the exposed skeleton made upon contact made Divi's chest tighten.

He could barely see the somewhat familiar yellowish eyes behind the strands of hair that fell on the sickly looking face, scanning the deformed metallic structure.

The man was almost entranced by his own appendages, as if seeing them for the first time. Slowly, he brought both hands to his face and gently ran them through it, clearly aware that the digits are capable of easily tearing through his scalp.

Divi noticed his eyes were now scanning the room, while his expression remained frozen, blank, and his head was almost completely still. Even his chest had close to no indication of breathing, like he was focusing his attention to all of his other senses.

“Vince?” he whimpered, hanging onto a tiny sliver of hope.

“Who are you?” the man turned at the frightened child, his voice gritty and rough, like there were gears grinding in his throat. He turned towards the kid and moved, in the blink of an eye. In a matter of a split second Divi found himself lifted up by his throat and slammed against a wall, feeling the deformed digits scraping against the delicate skin. “And who the hell is Vince?”

“Y-you know...w-who I am...” Divi struggled in his deathly grip, kicking his feet in the air and grabbing the man's arm, trying to loosen his hold but to no avail. “S-stop playing these weird games, V-Vince...Y-you're...scaring me...” he was soon struggling to breath.

“What games?” the harsh voice made Divi shudder, almost to the point of making him nauseous. The man's mouth stretched to a devious, horror-bearing smile, as he pulled the kid closer. “I don't know who's this Vince...My name is Cavalier!”

The voice got distorted as it got louder, rocking Divi to his core and coupled with oxygen deprivation almost made him pass out. Just as everything started to blur out, he managed to barely make out the shape of someone sneaking up behind Cavalier and hitting him at the back of the head, causing him to release his death hold.

Divi knew this could have only been one person, and as his consciousness was slipping away, barely recovering from the shock of being driven against a wall, he managed to feel Tris picking him up from the floor, carrying him – for the first time since they met – out of the house.

He was running away.

Away from Cavalier.

Away from home.

It didn't took long for Divi to stop feeling the rhythm of Tris' running steps, and he allowed his eyes to slowly close and let his mind fade away.

But even then, hardly handing on to reality, one small thought refused to die out.

He couldn't help but feel that he had heard that name before.

The only thing Divi knew upon waking up is that he wasn't home.

He didn't know where he was, exactly, but he was certain it wasn't the place where he first met Tris – the first place that was truly clear in his memories – even if where he is right now is pretty similar.

Divi found that he was laying on an old, dusty couch, in a worse shape than the one back home. It was a different color, either brighter or simply very faded. He looked around to see Tris sitting in an armchair next to him, that was facing a sliding door, similar to the one back home but filthier, to the point that it was impossible to see through it in what little light that sifted through.

Tris stared out, still and silent, perhaps even unaware that the child woke up, and he tried to wave his hands to grab his attention. The task proved more difficult than he thought, feeling his entire body, and his arms in particular, being unusually heavy.

Then it suddenly struck him, and Divi brought his hand to his throat, feeling the bruised and scraped skin, and his body started to tremble uncontrollably.

“You're up.” Tris spoke up without moving, and Divi immediately turned to him. Perfectly still, one might have mistaken he for a carefully dressed and masterfully placed statue.

“Wh...what are we doing here?” Divi stammered. But he knew there wasn't really a point in asking where are they at that moment. They weren't home, and that all that mattered.

“Don't you remember.” he asked, as he does, without really asking, moving his head towards Divi. Or so it appeared. Divi suddenly found it hard to read Tris' blank face.

The kid lowered his gaze, turning silent. He truly hoped this was all another one of his bad dreams that linger after he's awake. Every time he tried to remember something out of the hectic blur, only one, single name resonated back at him.

“Cavalier...” his voice was a trembling mumble, and he turned his head away.

“So yo do remember.” Tris let out a heavy sigh – the kind of sigh that suggested things aren't going to go as smoothly as he'd like.

“Was it really Vince?”

“Unfortunately it was.” as his voice was as inexpressive as ever, Divi had to trust Tris' verbal sentiment.

“What happened over there?”

Tris took a deep breath and held it, about to start a detailed telling, but ended up just releasing the air silently. He stood and walked up to the filthy glass door.

“What is it?” Divi straightened up, his concern growing fast. “You know something, don't you?!” the concern quickly grew into frustration and he stared at Tris' back, trying to pierce it with his gaze.

Bur Tris kept silent.

“Tell me! You know what happened to Vince, I know you do!” Divi protested against his silence and tried to stand on his feet, but soon was stricken with dizziness and had to sit back down.

“Better if you don't know.” Tris commented after another pause. “The only thing you need to know is that you better forget about Vince. He won't be back.”

“Wha-...?” he mumbled, wide-eyed. Divi felt his heart sink, like he was about to pass out from the shock, and by how casual Tris' naturally monotonous voice made it sound. “W-what do you mean?”

“It's really for the best that you wouldn't know.” he insisted. “You might just get hurt. Better if you simply accept it as fact and forget about him.”

Tris' words could sound quite harsh to an onlooking bystander, but Divi was able to now identify the unheard hint of worry in his voice.

After the past few months, Divi figured that if Tris is refusing to tell his something, maybe it really is in his favor.

Everything he did up until now was as such.

Divi sighed quietly and started check out their new location and looked around.

The more he looked, the more things around him appeared familiar, although in a terrible, neglected shape.

He noticed some dark green, almost furry substance decorating the sink and edges of the fridge in what he recognized to be the kitchen; a thick layer of dust covered the entirety of the dining room, as well as most of the rest of the place, as far as he could see from where he was seated.

Divi looked around the closer area, noticing it was a living room, almost identical to the previous one. Next to the couch he was sitting on, there was an old, framed photograph. The glass has been shattered and scattered around, and the photograph itself has lost most of it color, and was crumpled and scratched, as if someone stepped on it against the glass.

Turning around, he saw some doors – once more, like the other place – with one being slightly open, revealing an old bathroom, adorned with the same greenish substance as the one in the kitchen. In both cases, it gave off a clear sense of something to be avoided. The other doors, if he was to go by the similarities so far, were most likely bedrooms.

Somehow, the place felt familiar, even beyond the similarities he just spotted.

“Tris...” Divi spoke weakly, once again staring at the back of his statuesque savior. “Where are we?”