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A World Without Him

Chapter 21

Tang only got a few seconds to process what exactly he was stuck with before he was hauled up by the back of his uniform shirt and onto his feet. He stumbled forward at the sudden force, broken glass crunching beneath his feet.

The scholar blinked indignantly at the rough handling, but he couldn't even get a huff of displeasure in before the soldier was already walking out of the curtained area and gunning for the front exit. Tang couldn't hide his annoyance as he groaned loudly into his hands and started to go after the guy, wiping his face with his sleeve while he tried to follow.

Every one of his steps crunched on the stone floor, somehow powering over all the other noises in the medical tent as he tried to pursue the guy, glass shards almost definitely embedded into the soles of his boots now.

It was uncomfortable, but the growing sense of exhaustion quickly drew more attention. He’d already been drained from that ghost intervention, but he didn't realize how badly he was affected until he couldn’t even take two steps without his lungs burning up. Tang knew that this was a losing battle.

He leaned on one of the empty beds when his head started pounding and looked ahead with bleary eyes. Squinting, he only saw a glimpse of how the soldier seamlessly passed by the staff and wandering patients, seemingly dead focussed on getting out as fast as possible with practiced ease.

The scholar could only grit his teeth as he pushed himself back onto his feet as the body's silhouette got smaller and smaller. As he tried to move forward, his body became more slow and lethargic; he felt disconnected to his limbs, almost numb.

I guess there just had to be side effects for anything giving me a boon here. He thought bitterly, pushing himself forward. He could barely keep the guy in focus as he was already so far ahead while he tried to dodge and swerve to get to the exit himself, noticing the feeling was achingly similar to the streets back in Megatropolis.

Pushing the small feeling to the back of his mind, Tang saw that the soldier was no longer in his line of sight, most likely frolicking outside in the grass while getting further and further away from his tag-along.

Tang clenched his fists at the thought and if you were to ask anyone in the vicinity, they would have said that smoke was billowing out of his ears. Tang silently prayed that he would make the trip to wherever he's being forced without his legs giving up and moving to the Bahamas because of unsafe working conditions.

He huffed a bit at the thought as his legs started to twinge even worse, almost as if they were dignifying his thoughts with a response. Tang just frowned, pushing himself past one more staff member before he was finally in front of the exit. He took no hesitation in pushing the tent flap open and stepping outside, the dirt cushioning the glass in his soles.

A breeze kicked up at his exit, blowing wisps of hair behind him as he quickly walked a few feet before plopping himself down onto the ground, relishing in the feeling of his legs not giving in their two weeks notice. This, along with the nostalgic feeling of grass swaying in the wind, helped him relax.

He squinted up at the darkening sky af6er a moment, seeing how rish blue started to fade into vibrant hues of magenta and navy. As the sun was no longer visible beyond the treeline, electric torches started being lit all across the clearing pathways, giving everything a soft yellow glow as the area began to darken.

Tang just sat still at the view, taking in the scenery as fragments of memories flooded into his mind. A glance at the willow tree showed its hanging branches swaying in the wind, a single torch laying under it for some light amongst the grass. He put his elbow onto his knee and leaned into his hand for a better position, even if he knew there was nothing stopping the pain he would feel from his hunched position.

Behind him, a surprisingly soft voice knocked him out of his trance. “It's almost beautiful by itself, isn't it? If you can ignore the lake filled with mush and the tents covering every inch of solid ground with patrolling officers.”

Tang sucked in a breath and snapped his head to the voice, half-expecting it to have come from his own head and for nothing to be behind him. Instead, he saw Harrison leaning against the monastery wall, a blank look in his eyes as he looked over the clearing.

Tang didn't know how to react, giving the guy a blank stare as he tried reasoning in his head. Did he wait for me here? I thought he really didn't like me. That’s surprisingly nice considering he looked seconds away from maiming someone a couple of minutes ago…

He didn't know what to respond with, only opening and closing his mouth as no words actually came out. He eventually decided not to say anything and looked back towards the clearing, his eyes trailing back to the willow tree. He heard footsteps approaching after a minute, stopping right next to him as Harrison spoke up yet again.

“We need to get moving. Make sure to keep up this time.” He mumbled, reaching a hand down for Tang to grab. The scholar hesitated for a moment before grabbing the offered hand and being hoisted up again, much more smooth and comfortable than the first time.

Harrison quickly let go as Tang got to his feet, brushing past him and heading towards the dirt stairs now illuminated with torch light. The scholar blew a piece of hair out of his face before following right behind, his hands unconsciously starting to fidget with the bell on his wrist.

He tried his best to keep close behind this time, never letting the guy more than 2 feet away from him lest he lose his next guide and get lost in the labyrinth of white fabric. He did trip more than once on the uneven ground trying to keep up, but if Harrison noticed it, he didn't care to mention it as he only kept his head forward.

As the walk went on, the talk with those voices(? Spirits? Ghosts? He didn't exactly know what they were still) pushed to the front of his mind as he got more used to the white noise of the camp, replaying the conversation over and over as he tried to find anything useful he didn't already know.

All he could remember in detail was not to go to the Monastery, avoid Cian as much as he could, and basically nothing else. He frowns at the memory, millions of questions flying through his mind at what was going on.

He did know they had some sort of master, though, maybe a higher up who also put them in charge of watching over him. But why did he need watching over in the first place? (The job itself seemed like a punishment, though, considering those voices were obviously displeased with the work.) What deities are they most likely working with, and who exactly is the master they were referring to?

He doesn't have much to go on. Maybe that's the point, though, as those beings seemed shocked that he could hear and see them while all the info they did reveal was mostly slipped out by the younger looking one in a panic.

The more he tries to think about those things, his powers, Cian’s whole deal, and the apparent upcoming demonic war going on at his hometown if the vague (and straight up) threats from human military with whole towns being blown up are anything to go by… he really just wants to go back to Megatropolis, sit down at Pigsy’s and talk that grumpy cook’s ear off with Sandy, Mei, and Mk while scarfing as many noodles as he can down his throat.

However, he knows he needed to go somewhere other than there; that staying any longer would either break him, or cause trouble to the people around him. He knows what's been going on is most likely highly dangerous with the burn marks, strange dreams, and magic voices floating around his head among other (terrible) things giving some indicators.

He really wishes that it could all go away, that one morning the voices, dreams, and stupid bell would all just disappear. But it can't, not really, unless Mk's mentor has been storing up some magical cure or curse that could cancel out the presumed magic in that cave somewhere.

He wishes that he could go straight to his friends, ask for help, get all the support he could ever want, and end up ok. But it's not like that would happen. They would definitely try to help, of course, they're his friends. However, what could they really do for this? What could they do for the voices? The outbursts? He doesn't even recognize what's happening himself, and he's the certified scholar of the group who's read every legend and story he could get his hands on!

Another problem is that he still doesn't know the extent of how bad his magical episodes can get, if he can even control them, if he could stop them from happening, if he could actually hurt his friends during one of them.

Mk would probably be alright, he's got a good amount of Monkey King's powers with decent durability and is on an all time high right now after LBD got put into the ground. But he can't exactly be that sure for the others, or the city, for that matter.

He remembered what happened during one of his episodes, the foggy memory bubbling to the surface; glass scattered all over the streets and sidewalks. The shards silently crashed onto the unforgiving floor. Did anyone get hurt from that? Did that actually happen?

Tang couldn't remember. No faces came to mind, no news report on the TV or gossip overheard on the street were talking about it. But he can't be too sure, as almost everything after the Megatropolis Library fell was shaky at best and he wasn't exactly focussing on his surroundings.

The Library still hangs heavy in his mind. The screams, the crumbling ceiling, Allan, the poor kid, Mk… he still doesn't know exactly how to feel about that, either. He's seen Mk be reckless before. Hell, he's seen entire buildings go up in smoke trying to destroy one villain, but he never batted an eye. Never really thought about the “collateral damage”.

Until he experienced it. The fear, not even from the fight itself, but from the careless swings that could send tons of rubble towards them at any moment. The fighting style solely focussed on the opponent, uncaring if the missed shots or flying bodies caused damage to the city as long as the enemy stayed down.

That was something so different from the fear he's experienced before. Something so different compared to facing a common foe. Those are straight up. You know what you're getting into, that these guys will try and take you down however they see fit. You know they're trying to stop you, that you have to stop them in turn. You can run, hide, fight, do whatever in combat, adrenaline keeping you standing until you can get away or win at least.

But that moment in the library was something so raw, from not knowing what could happen next, that powers beyond your control could send something crashing down at you at any second, and you couldn't do anything to stop it. That powerlessness, that feeling of dread growing bigger and bigger every time a piece of the ceiling or wall crashed to the ground, was eating him alive from the inside out.

Tang wouldn't want that to happen again, especially not because of him. That was a big factor in why he left, the faint feeling of hopelessness eating at his insides when he's alone with his thoughts for too long.

He frowns at the depressing thoughts, feeling his eyes start to burn again. He knows he should take more time to take these thoughts in, to take them seriously and pick them apart, but he's not exactly in the right environment to do so at the moment as he looks up and notices they’re nearing the edge of the clearing.

He rubs his eyes before focussing back into his surroundings. The glass in his soles still grate onto the floor uncomfortably, but it's lessened by the softer dirt path he's currently walking on. Looking past Harrison, Tang can make out a few vehicles lined up next to each other, most likely trucks based on the cargo beds full of people in each of them.

When they finally get close enough, Harrison leads him to a half empty truck and gestures half-heartedly for him to get in. He walks away quickly after and starts to talk with a different soldier in the driver's seat of the first truck, leaving Tang to awkwardly hoist himself up and onto the cargo bed.

He doesn't recognize anyone in the truck, and he’s silently grateful for that as he doesn't think he can take any social interaction at this point in time. He sits down a decent amount away from the other passengers as he sags in relief at finally getting a longer break.

He does jump slightly as the tailgate of his truck gets slammed shut almost immediately after he gets comfortable, but he quickly relaxes again from the utter exhaustion creeping back into his body.

As the trucks get started and slowly start moving forward, Tang can barely keep his eyes open any longer as he starts to succumb to his fatigue. His eyelids droop as he lazily watches the trees swish by and the torches from the clearing get duller and duller until they're fully covered by the foliage.

He wraps his arms around himself as the breeze comes by again, causing a chill to run up his spine. But that's not enough to stop his eyelids from closing completely and his mind to finally take a rest from the day's events, drawing him into a deep, deep slumber as more trees roll on by, branches and leaves shaking in the wind almost like a lullaby.

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A World Without Him

Chapter 22

His dream held nothing memorable. The black void had apparently lost its novelty after being dragged into its depths so many times before. Tang's expression held only annoyance as his body spinned and glided through the never-ending darkness.

He didn't want to deal with what he knew would come next. The hands, the voices, the damned buzzing that came in recently.

What he wanted right now was one of those phantom things to appear in front of him, actually consider him a person worth talking to, and answer his questions.

To tell him what this void was even for, how they had access to his head since he knows the reoccurring nightmares and chatter wasn't formed from his mind alone, no matter how those things try to gaslight him into convincing himself overwise.

However, he also knew nothing would come from screaming at the void or cursing these stupid voices out in every curse word he knew, dead languages included. Maybe some of them would understand; he saw the old style of clothing the two spirits had when they showed up at the infirmary.

But it's not like they would talk to him of their own accord (besides Cian, but that thing comes and goes as it pleases and only talks to him when it's amused or wants something. It's a wildcard he doesn't want to think of the implications of), those two he saw were freaking out when he just looked at them.

From the urgency in their voices, Tang doesn't think he has a good chance at a one on one like that again, especially not here.

So, he chose to do the only thing he could: wait, like almost every time before. He crossed his arms, folded his legs, and sat still, eyes closed as the void suddenly reacted to his choice.

It seemed to come alive as he relaxed into its atmosphere, accepting him into its domain. He swore he could feel tendrils of unseen energy suddenly coil and bend around him, letting themselves be seen for the first time. He could sense it slow and accelerate based on unknown variables, how it had potential, how it could be something more if someone just gave its power shape.

It was overwhelming, yet not unfamiliar, like an overenthusiastic relative hugging you a bit too tight. But when he opened his eyes again, everything suddenly stilled, only pitch black as far as he could see.

It was silent, empty, yet again. Tang didn't know what that could mean, or even what that rush before was, but he wanted to figure at least one thing about this place out.

And because of that, he closed his eyes, ignored the warning signs, and tried to coax the energy back out. He sat in silence for a good while, waiting for the familiar energy to return.

Nothing happened for a good while. No spikes in the atmosphere, no familiar feelings, and there weren't even the usual voices or hands crowding his space. It was just quiet. He didn't move to open his eyes, though, as he liked the peace and wanted to stay a bit longer, even with a small bit of paranoia in the back of his mind saying the nightmare would begin sooner or later.

So, he focussed on what he could feel. His hair swayed behind him in the low gravity, stray wisps tickling his neck as the strands went every-which-way. He could feel his clothes do the same, the soft fabric of his sleeves and the ends of his robe billowing away from him…

...My robe?

He slowly opened his eyes once again, looking down at his body. He was no longer in the drab uniform he was given at the sleeping quarters, but instead he was back in his old red, white, and gold outfit.

The fabric seemed brand new as he took a piece between his fingers, nothing like the worn threads of his actual outfit. His shoes, scarf, and gloves were absent, though, while he still had long white socks under his maroon pants.

He calmly unwound his legs, letting them dangle in front of him. Looking closely at the fabric, he could see a small, almost unnoticeable orange sheen over the clothing. Frowning, he lifted his hands to his face seeing the same sheen over his hands, sleeves, and… the bell.

It seems like this piece of shit followed me in here. He thought bitterly, scowling at the bracelet hanging off his wrist. He raised a hand to his hair, running his fingers through the strands.

He still wasn't exactly used to the length, having had short hair for a good decade before it started growing dramatically after LBD. His hand kept trailing through the strands, ending at the middle of his back. And even before then, he'd never had it this long.

He fidgeted with the ends of his hair, lost in thought. He noticed some pieces had become lighter than the others, similar to the highlights he'd seen in Mei's signature hairstyle. However, his were closer to ashy blond than neon green.

Tang wonders if the color was natural. It fits her family’s theme, the whole white, green, and gold palette, so maybe she did it as some self expression while also sticking to her family's rules. She’s also a descendant of the Dragon of the West, so he supposes it's possible to get it naturally from those mythical being genes.

If… when he goes back to Megatropolis, he'll have to ask her himself.

He let go of the strands he was fidgeting with, letting them float in place as he sighed into his palms. Taking his head out of his hands, he glanced around the void once more, trying to see if anything changed while he was stuck in his head. The scholar couldn't see anything different, so he sunk back into himself and crossed his arms with a huff.

He wonders if the voices are gone now, stuck somewhere, unable to interact with him anymore. He saw how panicked they were in the medical tent, and he hasn't been able to hear from any other voices like them afterwards. He wonders if Cian was the person they were talking about, how someone should have blocked the connections from them? The details were fuzzy.

Still, he remembered the clear fear on their faces, how they couldn't let him die just yet. He's supposed to stay away from Cian and the monastery apparently, and Tang is more than happy to avoid both if he could. He could feel it in his gut that interacting with either of those options would not result in something good.

It's not like he can do much else at this point. His bag had most likely been confiscated by those military officials while he was unconscious, so most of that supplies is stuff he's never getting back. He groaned at the thought. All of that work is just gone in the wind now.

He misses his journal the most. All the little notes and scribbles he makes help him to focus, and reading back on them helps keep the memories fresh. Most of the stuff he writes is just about the legends and Monkie Kid's adventures, though, as he likes to portray them on paper the most.

Speaking of the legends, he wonders what is exactly going on with these spirits. The scholar doesn't remember hearing of ghosts matching the descriptions of the spirits he'd seen in any of the myths he's read, and since he is a Certified Scholar Spectacular (name given to him from a 9 year old Mk with a paper badge to match. He kept it in his journal as a bookmark. He really wants that journal back now), he knows that they've never shown up in one.

He thinks they're somehow related to the Golden Cicada and the Great Monk, with the obvious gold and orange colors along with the multiple cicadas popping up in most of his dreams. He just doesn't know how that connects with the rest of the information he’s gotten.

Flickers of memories play in his head as he tries to think of anything tying these things together. Cian had called his visions flares, and that it had his powers before him. If Cian was anything like the other voices, did that mean those two spirits also had powers like his before, too?

How do his powers work in the first place, anyways? How can they be passed down from (most likely) the Great Monk if he had already ascended like in JTTW, and had no possibility of reincarnation?

He rubs the back of his neck, lost in thought. Maybe Cian had lied to him at some point, about anything really, but then how were those voices from the medical tent related?

The truth is, Tang doesn't know.

The declaration hurts his soul, but it's true. He can't link these things to anything he's seen before. Everything is too foreign, too unpredictable where he can't wrap his head around all the stuff piling over one another.

He hates the feeling: being in the dark, not knowing what he's really dealing with. He prides himself on his knowledge, his ingenuity, as it's the only thing that really sets him apart from his friends.

So when that gets taken away from him, he's left scrambling, making situations worse than they already were in an attempt to make them better.

His teeth grind together as his hands grow tight on his arms, the unpleasant thought wriggling under his skin. Maybe I shouldn't have stayed here for so long. Nothing good has come out of this place so far, anyways. He thinks, looking out into the unchanging darkness; it's still empty.

He didn't know what he was expecting.

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A World Without Him

Chapter 8

(TW minor violence against furniture and some self-loathing thoughts)

Tang could hear the voices through the piles of broken bookshelves and ceiling bits. He didn't think they were hallucinations, as they got more frantic near his safe area and how he heard big pieces being carefully dragged outside.

He didn't know what to do. It wasn't like he could move all the layers covering him himself. Maybe if he yelled out, someone could finally hear him.

"H-hello?! Is anyone out there?!" He shouted with a shakey voice. Almost right after, he could hear the talking stop and someone sprinting over the rubble towards his area.

"Hey there; I'm with the Metrapolis first responders! Where are you?!" A woman yelled out into the crash site.

Tang scrambles up to the edge of his collapsed prison. "I'm down here! There's lots of debris covering me, but I'm alright! Please try digging to my left first. My friend is down there, and please hurry!" He yelled with a bit of desperation.

"Ok, stay there and don't move sir! We'll have more people here soon to clear all this out!" She shouted in response, most likely sprinting towards where the ceiling fell...

Tang decided to stop that train of thought. He needed to wait for the backup to arrive; someone to haul him out of here. Like always, he supposes.

So he waits. The unusual silence gives way to the grating of stone, wood, and drywall as he knows they're digging out Allan. He'll be okay. Tang stopped him from running right underneath the collapsed ceiling, so he's still alive. He must be.

Tang also knew when reinforcements arrived. The harsher steps from heavy-duty boots along with the many steps he hears overlap basically gave them away.

He stayed silent, though, so as not to disturb the now very delicate shell of debris surrounding him.

He waited for a while before he could hear a big chunck getting thrown from his left and on top of his area. The added weight caused pieces to break off and his "ceiling" to give way, now with it barely crushing his skull.

He gasped, then coughed from the debris that was shaken loose, covering him in a layer of dust. Pieces of splintered wood and some jagged metal now stick out in the corners.

More yelling started after that. Tang mostly just focused on his breathing again.

When he got back to his senses yet again, he heard picks and gloved hands clawing at his barrier of debris.

He almost cried in relief as the moonlight stone through the new cracks in his dome. He slowly watched as the hole got bigger and bigger, with more and more hands helping to carefully dig him out.

Once the hole was big enough, someone reached their hand down for Tang to grab. He gripped it tightly as he was slowly risen out of his confines.

He blinked at the sudden change in light, still out of it from his time trapped in that place. He was suddenly coerced to an emergency vehicle in the library parking lot, seeing the many paramedics wheeling in people from the library storage area.

He looked at his surroundings as they walked; he could see the ceiling was in total shreds at this point, with the standing walls looking like swiss cheese.

All the people who made it to the storage unit gained only minor injuries, as they all seemed to be walking, talking, and didn't have any blood on them.

As he continued to move towards the emergency vehicle, the ground covered in rubble turned to concrete as they made it to the sidewalk. He could feel his shoulder throbbing with pain as he sat down for the medics on site.

They did everything routinely, giving him a shock blanket, testing his cognitive ability, and so what. "You're all right, sir. Your shoulder just needs padding, and no sudden movements for it to heal up properly. You're very lucky, and you can go back to your residence now."

Tang just nodded in response, seeing them walk back towards another shock patient. He slumped into himself and took off his glasses, rubbing his temple.

Why couldn't I ever do something right, he thought. His thoughts stirred to Allan. Is he really okay? I should've done better. What if he's dead?! He can't be. He'll be okay. He'll be fine. You'll be fine.

He grumbled to himself, stopping his train of thought. He put his glasses back on and stood up, looking out for any free paramedics to ask about Allan.

He had only taken a few steps before a group of paramedics came barreling into the parking lot, rushing past him with many of them hurrying a gurney to the closest ambulance.

Tang could only catch a glimpse of the patient, but he saw their hoodie. Tang almost threw up when he saw him. It was Allan. Allan, who now had a severed leg. The bloody end of his leg dripped red liquid down onto the ground, with the jagged bone jutting out the end.

"Allan!" Tang yelled out, running up to the gurney. He was held back by the other paramedics, their words becoming jumbled as he only focused on Allan.

The rest of him didn't look much better from what Tang could see. Many scrapes and bruises covered his arms and legs, with debris covering his entire body. His eyes were glassed over with his matted hair falling on top of them. But he still had a heartbeat, even if it was a faint one.

Tang could have sworn he saw those eyes look towards him, but then the ambulance doors were closed before he could do anything else, the vehicle speeding off after they backed Tang away from getting hit.

All Tang could do was watch as they drove away, with another paramedic guiding him to a place to sit down. He had asked where the ambulance would drop off Allan so he could see him, but he was denied as he wasn't a guardian or family member.

So he walked away, back through the now dark sidewalk, and on his way home. His steps were sluggish, moving slowly as his mind went blank.

His body moved on its own as he walked into the building, up the many flights of stairs, and took out his keys to unlock his apartment.

He locked the door immeadietly after he got inside, taking off his shoes and throwing them at the wall. His other things got lost in the rubble...

Yeah, go and worry about your precious sketch book and comics as Allan is in the hospital.

Tang grimaced and looked at his apartment, everything tidy and stacked together in organized piles from his morning spree.

You were a hassle yet again. Always being dragged along because of your own incompetence.

Everything in his apartment seemed wrong. Too clean, too tidy, too nice for someone like Tang.

If you weren't there, maybe Allan would have made it to the storage room.

He didn't like the look of the room.

He could have been safe instead of carrying your weak ass around that library.

He walked up his coffee table, a vase with a single flower, and two stacks of books and papers on top of the brittle table.

He might have made it out alive if you didn't have him die-

He violently grabbed the glass vase and threw it against an empty wall.

*CRASH*

Glass scatters everywhere, some of the pieces embedding into his flimsy walls. Some even nicked Tang, but he didn't notice yet. The water from it coated the wall in a dark color.

It's your fault.

His heartbeat pounded through his ears. He took the pile papers next, ripping his useless scribbles up repeatedly until they became only scraps. His shoulder throbs with pain.

He's injured, and it's your fault.

He runs to his books after, taking handfuls and throwing them in every which way. Some hit picture frames, scattering even more glass, while some hit his other piles, causing them to tip and fall over with books, clothes, and other trinkets.

He's dead because of YOU.

"SHUT, UP!" Tang yelled. He swung his hand down onto the coffee table with startling accuracy. A sickening crunch resounded through his apartment. He could feel his tears run hot against his face.

He gasped.

The coffee table was now split in two, the impact of his hand steaming from small embers on the splintered wood. His eyes widened as he looked to his balled up hand. It had a faint orange hue.

But as Tang blinked, it was gone. Yet, when he looked back at the table, it was still steaming, just now simmering down to a small smoke.

Now, only his labored breathing could be heard as he stood still in the middle of his apartment. He could only stare at the destruction he had caused.

Now this looks perfect.

He smacked his own forehead, dragging his hand down his face. He wiped his eyes as a small breeze blew through the apartment. Maybe one of the windows got dislodged from his episode.

Tang sighed heavily before stepping carefully around the mess he made, flopping onto the ragged couch that somehow survived. His phone jumped up from his added weight before hitting the glass covered floor.

Oh, yeah. I threw it there this morning when it died...

Tang sighed slightly before picking his phone off the floor, dusting off tiny glass shards, and pressing the power button. Nothing came up. He grumbled before trekking over to his bedroom and plugging it into the charger.

He threw his glasses on his bedside table before falling face first onto his bed. The blurred shapes of his room comforted him as he rolled onto his back.

His eyes felt droopy as the colors around blurred even more. They shifted and coerced into a soft sunset orange-

*BANG, BANG, BANG*

"Tang! You better open this door RIGHT NOW!"

Tang sat up quickly, breathing fast as the knocking continued. He scrambled up and out of his bed before running to the front door, careful not to step on anymore scraps on his messy floor.

He opened the door right before his guest could harshly knock yet again. He almost had to dodge the pink fist coming his way before it pulled back suddenly.

Pigsy on all his glory stood outside Tangs door with a very peeved look on his face. Tang doesn't know if he could handle being berated for whatever he had apparently done to Pigsy after everything today.

But to his surprise, Pigsy's expression quickly turned to one of deep concern as he looked Tang up and down. "What is it, Pigsy?" Tang asked in a scratchy voice.

Pigsy didn't respond for a good minute. But when he did, almost nothing could stop that man's wrath as he started to stomp into Tang's apartment. "What the hell happened to you, Tang?! Everyone has been texting and calling you, and you never picked up! And now you look like total shit with your outfit in complete shambles! We couldn't reach you through anything, and I had to come up her myself-"

Tang hurridly pulled Pigsy back from his apartment carpet, with Pigsy now fully aware of the new "decor" he had recently put in.

Pigsy was seemingly about to go on another rant after a brief glance at his apartment, but Tang quickly hushed him. "Please, Pigsy. I don't think I can handle anything else happening today. I feel like absolute shit, I got stuck under a building for hours, and all I want right now is some peace and quiet. I promise to talk to you about this tomorrow, but for now, just give me a day, please."

Pigsy seemed conflicted at this, looking at Tang, and then past him at his apartment a few times. He eventually sighs in defeat but quickly puts up some gusto. "Tomorrow. Come by tomorrow in the morning, and you'll tell me everything. If I don't see you by noon, I'll go here and drag you there myself."

Tang just smiles at Pigsy; it's a bit strained but still genuine. "Thank you." Tang says softly. Pigsy just nodded, looking sadly at Tang as he closed the door.

Tang leaned onto the door, making sure that Pigsy's footsteps were actually leaving before letting out a breath of relief.

When he finally made it back to his bed, Tang was convinced he could drop in a heartbeat if he fell onto his bed right now.

But of course, he never got the chanceas his phone came alight and buzzed like over and over after it finally powered back on. He startled a bit, sighed, and then picked up his phone before sitting at the edge of his bed.

His phone had been blowing up with messages, missed calls, and... ads about textbook sales? Tang quickly saved the ad for later before looking through his call list.

Through his cracked phone screen, he just huffed when he saw about 26 missed calls.

Most of them were from Pigsy, with 6 from Sandy, three from Mei, and one from Mk. He hesitated a second before opening his texts. He winced as he saw there were over 40 unread messages.

Some were from the group chat, most of the first ones being pictures of Mk after the library fight holding up cheese tea a block from the library...

Tang scrolled past the pictures and instead looked for his name in any of the unread texts. He found out he was only mentioned after Mk specified where he had his most recent fight.

🌟 The Gang 🌟

8:08 PM

Mk: Yeah! It wss a HUGE guy witha a weird lookin sword this time

Pigsy: you sure you're doing ok kid?

Mk: yes im fine

Mk: the ppace we fought is in way worse shape thogh

Mei: Mk's right. When I went to pick him up, the place had been rly totaled! With the ceiling completely destroyed 'nd the walls left in complete shambles!

Sandy: Was everyone involved okay???

Mei: don't worry sm Sandy

Mei: Mk saw everyone head to the DA shelter, and they all came out fine afterwards

Mk: yeah at least the guy I fought had some sense not to aim for the flor

Pigsy: they had an entire shelter ready? Where did you even fight, kid?

Mk: it was at the Metrapolis Library

Mk: im so sad too because I can't get anymore comics from that place for awhile

Pigsy: Wait, isn't that where Tang started working a day ago?

Mei: oh yeah! I didn't see him come out of the DA shelter tho

Sandy: has anyone contacted him since yesterday?

8:09 PM

Pigsy: everyone try calling him

8:11 PM

Sandy: Tang hasn't responded to my texts or calls

Mk: i ended up having to call after texting him so many times nd he didn't pick up

Mei: he hasn't responded to me either

Pigsy: I'll keep calling him to see if he'll pick up

8:17 PM

Pigsy: he hasn't responded even once

Mk: does anyone know where he is?

Sandy: maybe someone should go to his apartment?

Mei: he has his own apartment????

Pigsy: I'm going up there to see him. I'll tell you guys if he responds or if he's even there

Tang turned off his phone after reading the last text. He could only sigh at the messages before moving to turn off all his lights, sweep most of the scattered glass to the sides, and close the open window.

When he finally got to fall onto his bed again, all he could think about was Allan. If he was okay, if he was alive, and if he could find a way to find him again.

Well, he should try that tomorrow after Pigsy's. I could try to ask about his name in any of the nearby hospitals... maybe if I... try enough of them...

And then Tang succumbed to his exhaustion, falling into a deep sleep as his world went black.

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Hello !!🍉🍉

I am Ahmed from Gaza. I used to have a pharmacy in the north of the Strip, but unfortunately, I lost it due to the bombing. Under difficult circumstances, I had to move with my family from the north to the south, and we settled in Deir al-Balah.

Despite the challenges, I tried to rebuild my life, so I opened a simple pharmacy in a tent. This pharmacy contains some basic medicines, but it is far from meeting the needs of the people here.

I am now in dire need of support to secure my needs and the needs of my children. My first goal is to raise $1,000 to continue providing health services in these difficult circumstances.

I hope that everyone will donate and contribute to supporting this humanitarian project. Every support, no matter how small, will have a great impact in improving the lives of my family and providing health care to the community here.

You can donate through this link 🇵🇸🇵🇸: https://gofund.me/2a408c6f

Thank you very much🙏🏻❤️❤️

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Donate to Gaza Pharmacist Needs Help to Help Others, organized by Molly Sirois

This is Ahmed. He is a pharmacist. He used to have a pharmacy in a building in … Molly Sirois needs your support for Gaza Pharmacist Needs H

A World Without Him

Chapter 20

They stared. Stared and stared and stared and stared. They seemed frozen in shock, almost as if they had finally succumbed to the surrounding area's influence.

Tang didn't know what to do. Should he run? Shout? Try to blink this place away like it came to him in the first place? He didn't know. He couldn't figure out what to do. He should know what to do. But he didn't know anything.

What are they gonna do to me!? Oh my god oh my god oh mY GOD OH MY GOD- Can they touch me, take over me, KILL me?! AUUUUGH, I DON'T KNOW!

Cold sweat dripped down his neck, seemingly unaffected by the area as Tang took in short, raspy breaths. His throat felt as if it were on fire, and his eyelids begged him to shut, but he couldn't risk moving. He didn't want to trigger a response from whatever these things were. He didn't know what they could do.

This silent stand-off only continued. No one moved for what seemed like an eternity, the surroundings actually showing change from how long this had gone on for. The curtains parting behind the figures as a small syringe fell through a gap, slowly falling towards the hard, unforgiving floor.

Yet Tang stayed still, meeting the harsh gazes as if he was worried they would disappear out of view with the slightest coverage. His body started to shake as his hands gripped together so tight he would have been worried for blocked blood flow if not for this staring contest. The pain kept him focussed.

The syringe continued its descent as Tang started to waver. His jaw clenched as he tried to stay focussed, keeping him from changing the scene once again. His eyelids still started to fall, though, slowly encompassing more and more of his vision until he could no longer hold out. He was only human, after all.

As soon as he closed his eyes he shot them open once again, scared out of his mind now that the figures were out of his sight. The figures were gone, leaving empty air in their wake. His eyes immediately locked onto the syringe that kept its descent, still falling ever so slowly.

He wasn't out of the clear yet.

His breathing became more exasperated and frustrated as his eyes scoured the room, trying to find where those bastards hid now. He started standing up when his eyes failed him, his eyebrows pinching together in stressed concentration.

This finally brought them back out. Orange suddenly filled his vision as he tried to stand up, causing him to yelp and fall back into his chair. His limbs felt heavier than before, but he was too focussed on the blaring face of fear in front of him as the syringe continued to fall indoors the commotion.

“Oh fuck, he can definitely see us. Do you know what this means!? HE, CAN, SEE, US. That means our predictions all came to shit, and we wasted our time out here for all those years we could've been- UGHHHHH, we are so FUCKED when the Master hears of this!”

The face turned back and forth from focussing on Tang to focussing on the other figure, getting more hysterical as its mouth kept pouring out nonsense.

What are they going on about!? Masters, predictions, what even are these guys!?

However, through the sporadic jumble coming from the first one to the concerned expression on the other, they didn't seem hostile. They brought an odd sense of warmth now that they're closer to him. Tang was still weary, though, so he continued to stay put on his chair and tried to make out what this thing was saying. The syringe spun and flipped through the air, now only a foot above the ground as it seemed to fall faster.

“... and we thought the first time he was taken over that he had no aptitude! Master had to guide this doormat himself to even defeat that ice queen bitch, and even then it was just a combination circle! Is this why that bastard in the Between wanted this guy so badly!? What should we even do-”

“SHUT YOUR MOUTH. He isn't deaf, you know!” The older one shouted suddenly as he gestured to Tang, causing them both to look back at him while the poor scholar froze on the spot. “Now stop that running river of a mouth, and let's fix our mistakes. It clearly doesn't have a strong hold over him yet since he can see us now. You.” He suddenly addressed, looking at Tang with conviction as he pointed a finger straight to his face.

The scholar’s brows pinched together in worry. “Me???” He answered hysterically. The older figure moved quickly to crouch face to face with Tang. “We don't have much time here. I can't explain everything going on inside your head,” He started, quickly pointing at Tang’s forehead with a bony finger.

In the scholar’s peripheral vision, the blacks and whites started to fade, leaving small amounts of color. That can't be good. “But you must know that Thing that you're bound with cannot be trusted. It takes, it harms, it consumes everything it can get ahold of. We've had many like you before, trying to harness its power for mortal gain, but it never ends well.”

The tattered clothing of the older figure suddenly rammed into Tang's mind again, how this figure seemed to have almost been torn completely apart, similar to the cracks throughout the skin of the other figure.

“You must stay awake for all of our sakes. Don't let that menace back into your body, no matter what hellscape you might find yourself in.” It had a look of pure rage as it spat the warnings out, this emotion being the most prominent that Tang’s seen of it this entire time. The syringe is only a few inches off the ground, the blue liquid contained within it gaining back its hue.

“Don't let that thing manipulate you, control you, TALK TO YOU.” The other interjected, pushing the older one aside as the surroundings started to gain color rapidly.

“You need to make sure that it doesn't sink its teeth into you further.”

Indignation filled Tang as these warnings only gave more questions, more of the unknown that he couldn't predict. “THEN WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO NOW?! YOU SAID I'M STUCK WITH IT BUT WHAT DOES THAT MEAN!? HOW DO I GET IT TO GO AWAY!? IS IT THIS STUPID SCRAP OF METAL?!” He stands up harshly, waving the wrist with the bell in front of the figure's faces. The syringe falls and falls and falls as Tang’s legs refuse to cooperate, buckling underneath him.

“No, no, NO. We need more time-”

“Stay in the village and avoid the monastery at all costs! WE NEED YOU ALIVE-”

*CRASH*

The syringe connects with the floor as Tang hits the ground, pieces of glass quickly covering the ground. He looks up wildly, seeing all the eyes look towards his hunched figure. Red Hair is back in her seat, her clipboard nowhere in sight as Manex hovers over his form from behind.

His eyes water so much that streaks flow down his face in waves, his knees aching from the collapse as his ears ring from the sudden influx of sounds. Through blurry vision, Tang sees Zach asleep in the bed. A voice knocks him back into this reality.

“Why is the staff rushing outside?” The old man asks, slowly standing up and pushing the glass shards away with his cane without a care as he looks outside. Manex quickly walks up to join him, having to dodge another staff member when he barreled out of the tent with numbers of supplies in his arms.

Now that Tang is focussing again, he hears shouting all across the tent from medical staff, heavy footsteps drowning out most of the current patients groans or cries. Aggressive Guy shoots his head up with a concerned look, a hand hovering over his M17 pistol cautiously while Red Hair does the same.

One staff member slowed down in front of the tent after a few more ran out in a panic, focussing only on the old man. Fear was clearly painted on her face. “A second surprise attack was issued after the initial attack on the Waning District which took out most of the cleaners and remaining soldiers on site. We need all hands on deck as there may be even more casualties under the rubble that the cleaners hadn't gotten to yet.”

She gave a slight bow of her head before she rushed off with the others. Manex bit her lip as the old man sighed. “Why can't they just let us have this? What more can they take from me?” He leans on his cane and rubs his nose bridge in frustration.

Red Hair and Aggressive Guy both stand up quickly, their stature secure and ready for orders. “Harrison and Smith, you both go and survey the damage while protecting the medical staff and remaining cleaners from anymore attacks. Manex, you come with me to the HHC.”

The old man then looks down at Tang’s pitiful form, a cold and curious look crossing over his face as he narrows his eyes. “And you, lucky prisoner, will join the cleanup mission. They may need someone to look out for triggers, be an extra pair of hands, or scream when the next attack might come. Now go along with Harrison. I promise he doesn't bite. Much.”

The old man then exited the tent with Manex following close behind and Smith along with them. Now it was only Tang and Harrison still in the room, and this guy's face is the complete opposite of happy. A single tear ran down the scholar’s face. I’m so screwed.

Previous | Next | Start

YES! Someone else finally says it!

I’m tired of some people spitting shit about the Adam v. Alastor fight

Yes, Alastor got cocky and had his ass handed to him.

HOWEVER: WE REALIZE HE TOOK AN ANGELIC WEAPON TO THE CHEST AND SURVIVED????

Demons die to Vaggie’s SPEAR, simply because of the nature of the weapon. We see angels and demons dying throughout episode 8 to these badass weapons.

And Alastor TOOK it. He got nailed directly in the chest, and yeah, suffered at very least a punctured lung or something (he was bleeding a LOT), and while he couldn’t physically get up, he got away.

Like, I’m sorry he wasn’t perfect in that battle??? It was super satisfying at first to see him go to town on Adam, but after the fuck up, he LIVED. He got AWAY.

I don’t know a single demon else that was hit by the axe that episode that lived. Alastor is not infallible, yes, I know this, but Jesus Christ y’all, give him credit for probably being the first demon EVER to survive that.

Lovely supporter, I hope this message finds you and your family in good health and high spirits.

This is Eman Zaqout a Biotechnologist and PhD student from Gaza. I've started a fundraising campaign and urgently need your help to spread it to the world, after losing my house and my job in the genocide in Gaza and living in a life that you can't bear watch it behind screens.

I hope you can take a look at my campaign on the pinned post on my profile, and help us by donating or sharing our campaign to reach the largest number of supporters.

Thank you for your continuous help for the Palestinian cause until freedom is achieved.

Please know that our campaign is verified by @90-ghost, @aces-and-angels

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Donate to Help my family survive famine and have secure life, organized by Mazin Fakak

Dear friends, family, and compassionate supporters, My name is Eman Za… Mazin Fakak needs your support for Help my family survive famine an

I am Motaz Mohamed ❤ a palestinian youngman from Gaza🍉🇵🇸, seeking to find safety and peace ☝️for my family if twenty members. We have been ❤🇵🇸🍉passing through all forms of torture and pain for almost ten months because of the war on Gaza.

Life is very miserable and tragic❤🇵🇸 as we are now deprived ❤🇵🇸🍉of all means of living. Drink water, healthy food health care and medicine❤🇵🇸 have become things 🇵🇸🍉❤of the past. We are dying dear friends. That is why I am asking you to help us break through this tough situation.Life in hot tents is incredibly sad and miserable. We are now experiencing the worst circumstances we have ever had in our life. The war has stolen happiness and life from us.

Please don't leave us alone in such dire times. Your kind contribution either through donating whatever you can or sharing my posts will be highly appreciated and valued.❤🇵🇸🍉

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Donate to Help my family survive the war on Gaza by fleeing to safety, organized by MOTAZ MOHAMED

Hello my supporting friends ! ❤ I am Motaz Mohamed , 22 y… MOTAZ MOHAMED needs your support for Help my family survive the war on Gaza b

IM TRYING GUYS HELP

nevertheless neverteles LOOK ITS TANGYYY these are two "failed-ish" watercolors i made with the 2 out of 12 artstyles i have omg