The sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the porcelain-covered bathroom that was dimly illuminated by a flickering lavender light.
Aaron and Ezra stood shoulder to shoulder, facing the cracked mirrors that reflected their cloaked appearances.
"What the hell are you doing, man? We gotta get moving to save my sis, right? Why are we in the loo?"
The black-haired boy's low growl bounced uselessly off the other boy's ears as he turned to face him.
Aaron's once calm demeanor was wrought with distress as he racked his brain thoroughly, studying every detail of Ezra's young face.
"You got any special marks that I should be aware of? Tattoos? Scars?"
Aaron's suddenly spouting random nonsense startled the blue and red-eyed boy, who furrowed his brow curiously.
"The hell? You interested in me or somethin'?"
In a quiet outburst, he grilled the blond boy on his unparalleled method of questioning; however, the latter simply sighed while covering his face with his hand.
Krk… Crnkk… Crunch…
His jaw cracked sideways, snapping in inhuman ways that aligned like a strange puzzle of bone and flesh.
Aaron's broad shoulders that once towered over Ezra hunched and stretched unnaturally, with skin ripping and tearing.
His once wheat-colored blond hair was now black, the same shade as his own, with the once turquoise eyes that shone like the sea being replaced with the same mismatch as his own.
Aaron's tall stature shrank with awful crunches and groans as his muscles and joints collapsed in on themselves, allowing his clothes to fall loose around his thinner figure as he stretched out wide.
"W-What the hell did you just do? Where the hell is Aaron!?"
Stumbling backwards in shock, the true black-haired boy screamed out in a panicked voice.
Outside of the bathroom, the sound of curious voices echoed off the tiles, causing Aaron to suddenly reach out his newly transformed hand to cover the boy's mouth.
As Aaron tried to speak, his words came out in two tones, one his own and the other Ezra's, before morphing into a perfect mirror of the black-haired boy's.
"Shhh! It's me. I can change my appearance to anyone I've seen and touched, and that would include somebody who ripped coins right out of my hands…"
His grotesque and grainy voice halted Ezra's muffled shouts and gave him a pause, as he stared up, stunned, at the shapeshifter.
As if remembering his original question, the black-haired boy breathed in heavily while closing his eyes.
With a slow movement, his right hand arched upward toward a thick black cloth that was tightly wound around his neck.
In a tone less than a whisper, the actually black-haired boy spoke while pulling away the garment.
"Some neat artifact you got yourself… If what you said is true, you're gonna need this if you're doing what I think you're gonna do…"
With a sad look in his eyes, he ripped away the scarf, revealing deep gashes engraved into his throat, grating around in all directions.
Aaron's breath hitched with his stomach turning in disgust as his gaze fell onto the boy's pale neck.
Horrific blackened veins twitched and pulsated after each breath Ezra took, mimicking the sight of a heartbeat.
Scars wrapped around his entire throat in various angles or shapes, with some having massive holes in the middle, reminding Aaron of a certain object.
Widening his eyes in horror in a twist of realization, a nauseating gasp at the reality of the boy's injuries reached into Aaron's heart.
"C-Chains…"
With that single word, Ezra's eyes glazed over as if in remembrance of times long passed, with the markings wrapping around him, not just wounds, but a living memory that would be forever ingrained into his flesh.
"Hurry up, will ya? And make sure you don't tell no one about this or I'll kill you…"
For a single moment, his voice was quiet with shame, fear, and fury bound in a tangled mess of emotions, yet it quickly faded as Ezra seemingly snapped the metaphorical mask back on.
Shutting his own desires from the very world itself, he plummeted into a never-ending spiral of shame and despair that the mirrored boy could only stare at.
With the obvious displeasure stricken across his face, Aaron hurried to complete the mental image of the wounds.
Another second later, the gut-wrenching sound of flesh tearing and healing reverberated through the silent bathroom as he rubbed his neck uncomfortably.
"I-I ain't gonna tell you nothin about it even if you ask…"
Ezra's voice echoed through the room without the usual hints of annoyance or disrespect.
The doppelganger didn't respond immediately; instead, he shook his head, acknowledging the line that Ezra drew.
"I don't need to know your past, Ezra. What I need to know is where the dungeons are and your sister's appearance."
Aaron paused, thinking carefully while awaiting a response from the black-haired boy ahead of him.
"Alright… I'll tell you all I know, but you gotta promise me somethin."
With a stern expression, he turned his eyes directly to his clone, facing him solemnly.
"You'll bring Abigail back alive no matter what."
His words mixed with the sound of a gunshot from outside the room, almost certainly another victim of a so-called game.
The formerly blond boy sighed heavily, relaxing his frown into a smile.
"Ah. Just that? Hell yeah, I promise, man. I'll get your sister back."
As he spoke, he placed his hand out happily, waiting for Ezra's response.
Opposite to him, a smile tugged at the corners of the black-haired boy's lips as he mirrored his clone, copying his hand gesture and clapping their hands together.
"Alright, here's the plan."
…
"Penelope. Can you mask my presence?"
Aaron's calm words were less than a whisper as he arrived at an unmarked door hidden from the public.
『Only for a few minutes, so be quick. I'm still drained of energy, so I'll need to rest, or backlash will envelop you once again.』
"Got it."
From what Ezra had said, there would always be at least three guards stationed at the entrance, with, occasionally, a hired group of mercenaries as well.
So as Aaron opened the door and surveyed the inside, he wasn't surprised as twenty-three armed guards faced each other, pacing back and forth slowly.
He wasn't kidding… Without Penelope's concealment, I would've been toast…
Silently thanking the girl inside the blade, he gently passed through the patrolling men, hurrying down a short flight of stairs.
『Can't hold anymore… You're on your own for at least half an hour…』
With her sudden speech, a cold presence vanished from within the boy's body, signaling her disconnection from the mortal plane.
Get in, get her, and get out. Simple.
As he finally reached the bottom of the stairs, an unusual calmness startled him.
Unlike what he was told, the massive floodlights were smashed to pieces like someone had already come before him.
It's pitch-black in here now...
Without any visibility, he could only squint and walk slowly through the endless darkness before him, leaving him lost and confused.
How the hell am I supposed to find her in here…
The air was thick with the smell of rot and rusted iron, suffocating the boy with a disgusting taste stuck to his tongue.
Each breath felt like thousands of daggers digging into his throat, ripping him apart from the inside out; however, he steadied himself as he walked through the corridor slowly.
Chains rattled in the distance, yet while some sounded distant, others felt like they could be right atop of him, leaving him stumbling in random directions.
With one hearty step forward, he slammed against a metallic object that made his head spin with nausea.
Murmurs of fright and confusion exploded throughout the darkness, leaving Aaron panicking inwardly.
"H-help us…"
"P-please…"
Each whisper came from a different direction, further diving him into confusion as he backed up from what he had walked into.
Rubbing his head with his hand, he felt a strange tingle burst to life on his right index finger where the sapphire ring began to glow faintly.
Its vibrations dug into his skin, making it itch wildly; however, the light it exuded allowed the room to brighten significantly.
His hand felt heavy under the light that filled the room, battling away at the darkness that threatened to smother out even the tiniest of sparks.
As Aaron's eyes adjusted to the fresh light, his eyes opened wide at what he saw, nearly sending him falling backwards in fright.
"W-What the hell…?
Ahead of him, he saw iron bars, and behind them, gathered in a heap, was a pile of lifeless bodies pressed together tightly.
Their faces were curled in expressions of pure agony as if it had been engraved into their corpses even in death.
Trying to look away from the scene, he whipped his head around; however, he was only met with more and more cages filled with even worse sights.
Children with shackles that dug into their skin, necks, and legs, surrounded by pools of blood and other fluids.
Men and women with crimson gashes streaking across their eyes, blinding them completely, even in the pitch-black chamber.
No matter the age or gender, hundreds of bodies were packed like sardines into the steel rooms with filth and grime baked into their skin.
With a quick estimate, Aaron could guess that the youngest were maybe five or six, while the oldest could've been in their eighties, for all he knew.
T-They are all slaves to be sold? H-How can anyone be so cruel to other humans…
Looking through the hordes of people, matching each face to the image Ezra had provided, he finally located his target.
In the far corner of the room was a large cage with corpses sprawled across the floor, with whip lashes covering each of their fronts.
Unlike the groups he had seen before, they were spread out carefully with their faces turned towards the shrouded ceiling.
Moving closer, Aaron froze as his heart dropped in horror at the sight before him.
T-They're all children…
Each corpse was gently laid to rest with their hands across their chests and eyes closed, seemingly asleep; however, Aaron knew it wasn't that simple.
His mind flashed with the frightening image of Alice's face replacing one of the young girls, bringing his thoughts to a breaking point.
Scanning the rest of the chamber with a solemn expression, expecting Ezra's sister to be among them, he noticed a figure in the farthest reaches of the cell.
It was a tiny girl, shorter than the rest, with her black-haired head shaking rapidly as she held her knees, rocking back and forth in absolute despair.
Her uniquely distinct eyes told Aaron all he needed to know of her identity, allowing him to breathe a sigh of relief.
Not a single other person was alive in the same room as her; she was a miracle, the only survivor of a massacre.
However, her suffering was ingrained deep inside her head.
Memories of her friends dying in agony haunted her, driving her to the brink of insanity only leaving her to dwell on the past.
She laid them to rest even in this hellhole…
Closing his eyes to breathe, Aaron heard a strange sound coming from multiple cages around him.
Opening his eyelids while furrowing his brow, he watched as a terrified expression dawned on their faces as they hurriedly pointed at the black-haired clone of Ezra.
Me? Why are they so scared of me—
"The boss'll be happy with this, right? What da ya think, Flock boy?"
Then, with one explosion of pain, Aaron collapsed to the floor as a strike sent him into the darkness of his own mind.