[hrhr] everything

[omniavincit]

WHO? William and Mams
WHAT? A critical success, apparently. With reception to follow.
WHEN? The nick of time (i.e. before the other HRHRs)
ANYTHING ELSE? I'll be sure to warn if William starts eating hearts.

When he'd pulled the mask off the guard, it came back to him—Big Shu standing in front of him, how tall he'd seemed in the moment. He'd squeezed his son's bony shoulders, mentally holding him at attention. He searched himself for an ounce of wisdom and remembered only being told to wrap his fingers as though holding a roll of coins.

Shu turned his hands over. They were scraped raw.

Under the mask the man's eyes were wide. Blue. Empty. William had closed them, surprised at the look of his own hands. What boy did they belong to?

Almost. We'll have to take it from here.

The corridors get tighter as they go, stripped first of ornamentation then of markings of any kind. The signal isn't gone—just the opposite, what had once been a faint streak of color is a swollen, frantically pulsing blot obscuring the overlay. William closes the tracking app, blinks the spots from his eyes. Resists the temptation to rip off the mask, wipe the sweat from his face.

He moves with barely contained haste, one hand hovering at his gun. Passes another unconscious man, this one pudgy, his shoes gleaming. Will we have to kill them on the way out? he thinks, then, Why the fuck am I worrying about the way out? Neither of them have said it, but it's between them—more than understanding, wire-taut awareness occasionally electrified with intention.

Whatever they're about to face, he'll have to warn Mamoru, buy him time. It might be the only thing he does.

Something's changing—the air feels not warm but thick, his thoughts mushy. He remembers Matron Awai's smile right before she snapped his finger off, how after it was the same, unperturbed. His walk alters mid-stride into a clipped military step; he remembers remembering throwing a cop into a window, the sight of the sky through a mechanical eye, thousands of bright swirling particles, and Logan touching his shoulder, avoiding his eyes and saying, You can wait here.

William glances back at Mamoru, something crawling under his skin. He blurts out, “Do you feel—” Then, realizing his mistake, falls silent.