As I'm quietly sat in my seat, my back gradually turns cold. The men who were surrounding us on standby take one step closer, accelerating the growth of my anxiety. I was sent here even with this ongoing predicament? The colorful man flaunts his hands around, eventually slamming his fist onto the table, shaking the ground. All conclude their conversations, their attention immediately flipped onto the both of us.
"I've never liked you snakes, know that? Your little arrogant CEO who thinks he's better than everyone else... meanwhile he couldn't even hold a candle to our Solia!"
He heaves heavily, his breath lost after his vocal display of admiration— though I'd call it obsession. I'm getting bashed for the personality of my uncle, when in reality, I have the same issues with him. I lean further in my chair, ensuring that my words get through to him, to guarantee his safety and my own.
"Listen, alright? I only came to give you this. I'm not sure what it is, but you might know. I have no interest in the conflict between both our bosses. Now, excuse me."
With the most respect I'm able to muster up, I drag my chair backwards and stand up, signaling that I'm about to make my leave. Before I can even turn around to sigh in relief, my forehead collides with the chest of a two-meter man, knocking me reverse. It's clear what's going on: they won't allow me to leave this place. Not without a fight, at least.
"Fine, then. Bring it on, rainbow."
I challenge, sliding my index finger across the surface of my arm, thread following my fingertip in unison. In response, the man laughs heartily, jumping out of his seat and startling his women.
"Good, good! Don't bring shame to your company! Your opponent for today will be I, Arti Satic."
The men who were once surrounding me distance themselves, and the models on the runway draw knives that were hidden in their clothing. I try to map out the interior in my head, but there are far too many enemies disrupting my view.
"Can't fight by yourself? Figures..."
"Who in the world would fear you, pretty boy? Don't make me laugh." He looks quite offended as he discards the table to the side with impressive strength, the noise forcing me to wince.
Everyone here was prepared to fight me from the start. Without a moment's notice, the lackeys who had caged me in all charge at once, providing me with little time to think about my next move. I rip the threads off of my arm, the clear steel-like substance hugging against my fingerprints. Instinct takes over — a dodge, a counter, and the dry sound of a fist flashing into flesh. His body folds in reaction to the pain, the limited life behind those eyes wandering beyond me.
A silent cue is obtained, and I change positions. Three men are lined up in a column, flashing silver blades which partially reflect their faces. The threads wrapped around my fingers work in unison to form me a makeshift blade, about the size of a shortsword. My feet leap off the ground, and I twirl flamboyantly. I come to a stop as my blade glides across their throats, rejecting the blood that's spilled as a result. It splatters onto my face, the feeling not cold nor warm. The others distance themselves in fear, only Arti having the courage to look me in the eye.
"You think you're such a big shot, don't you?!" He bursts onto the table, instantly leaping off with incredible acceleration. He whips his arm toward me while midair, the fabric of his sleeve abnormally extending toward me. With no time to evade, I attempt to block the attack, but it instead wraps around my wrist. Arti lands on the ground, reeling me in with a single pull. I almost lose my balance, but the tug from his restraint forces me back on my feet.
"Huh, what's wrong? You were talking so big, but here you are: strung up like a mouse."
Snickering maliciously, Arti slams his fist against my face, holding me up with the other arm. His onslaught is relentless; My body suffers gravely from his strikes, but my mind takes a larger toll. Both he and I are exhaling heavily. Myself out of exhaustion, and himself, out of satisfaction.
There's no mirror to see myself through, but I know how battered my face currently is. For me to lose so easily to this guy... it's not something I was ever expecting. Even if he is an associate of REGALIA, what the hell does that matter? Who am I, really? I raise my head, our eyes locking. For just a split second, his expression changes into something resembling fright.
"I'm Threade of AEGIS, damn you...put some respect on that name!"
"Don't get all arrogant because you received a sudden boost of confidence. You're still at the receiving end of–"
Before he finishes his reply, I bash my head against his. The hit clearly affects him greatly, staggering him so that he falls onto his ass. The thick fabric that was latched onto my wrist releases as it's shaken off.
"You damn brat!" He spits, before getting back on his feet in quick time and pounding his heavy fist into my gut. I'm slightly blown back by the force, saliva forcing itself out of my body.
"You're weak. You're disappointing. You're not even close to my level, so just drop dead already!!"
Tendrils woven from his suit's fabric rise, looming above his head. Collectively, they all dart toward me, and everything fades into a blur. The last thing I feel is terror. A sharp sense of pain in my chest... and absolute weakness.
______________________________________________________________________
My soul whispers to me: "For what have I given you power: to lose? Connect with my reservoir."
My eyelids threaten to open as a soft groan escapes my lips. I can only make out a grand figure standing beside me, inching closer to my face.
"Threade? Oh, thank God you're awake! I was worried you wouldn't open your eyes ever again."
My daze eases along with my blurred vision. Before me stands a man well over two meters tall, his soft, ocean eyes keeping contact with mine intensely. His very presence leads me to recall what had happened prior to me being... here. Lying on a bed plastered with dark gray sheets, and bandages obscuring my sight.
"I was barely even hurt. There's no way I'd die to that bastard. How'd I get here anyway, Calden?"
He sighs in response, though not out of discontent. Running his unusually large hands through this mud-brown hair, Caldens takes a seat on my bed, ultimately completely crushing my feet — to which I say not a word. Even when sitting down, his frame towers over mine. Even being tailored, his enormous black suit barely fits his body. Calden's size is what grants him the reputation as the fifth associate of AEGIS, Calden The Gargantua. Despite what others might say, Calden truly isn't as terrifying as others make him out to be; He holds the stereotype of a gentle giant.
"You see, after Mr. Zillman had sent you out on that mission, he notified me to accompany you. Was worried about your safety after he found out about the alliance being severed. When I arrived at the building, as much as I didn't want to, I smashed through the security and eventually made it to the room where you were..."
"Yeah?" I reply, cutting him off. Sitting up eagerly and ignoring the intense pain, my eyes almost light up. This is the part I need to hear the most: what happened after I lost.
"Well," he continues, adjusting his position and practically crushing a few of my bones in the process. "I saw you passed out on the ground, and you looked really bad. I was going to intervene, but a strange guy ended up doing so before I did. I think he knew the man who beat you, 'cause they were all familiar and stuff. But they weren't friendly with each other at all, don't get me wrong! The guy stood in the way of your rival and let me take you without any more issues. He was kinda weird, I felt like even if I had fought against him with all of my power, I still would've lost."
My eyes widen at his statement. It's not common for Calden to lose to anyone, or even admit to having been beaten. To have strength of that caliber... it only means that I'm even farther away in power than I thought. I can't be slacking like this — otherwise, what's my purpose? I raise my hand, gazing deep into my palm. I can't stay as I am now. I'll have to break out of this mask and alter my persona if I want to prevail. Calden looks at me with admiration, in a way that suggests he understands my longing to do better.
"If you're going to do that, Threade, then you gotta let Mr. Zillman know first. Or else he might mistake you for an enemy and you two will end up destroyin' this entire building with your strength."
He stands up which releases the pressure on my feet. His demeanor is overwritten with solemnity as he walks toward the door, being careful as to not bump his head.
"I think something is gonna happen between AEGIS and REGALIA, Threade. We gotta be ready, as a team. Mr. Zillman won't be there to save us from everything. After all, if he's seen getting too powerful, then those people above will step in to conceal him. Anyway, I'll be going now, let me know if you need anything, alright?" I try to nod my head, but he turns to leave before I can do so. I lean back into my bed and take a deep breath.
Gradually, my pink strands of hair begin to fall out and land onto my lap. The bright pink hair that screamed attention is now overrun with a color darker than gray, though lighter than black. 'Notify Mr. Zillman,' he says. "Yeah, right." I mutter, my voice low even with the absence of anyone and everyone else. There's nothing Zillman needs or wants to know about me: he craves my power. My life isn't mine to live, but his. If that's the case, I'll please him to the very end so that when I die, he'll still have a portion of my life to live for me. I'll annihilate all of his enemies.