In Eden's Shadow

by Amanda Churi

  Griffin still wasn’t sure what to do or say. Why was he being received this way? Like he was actually important when they didn’t know the first thing about him?

  And Griffin still knew that he was done for—the smile coloring Gannon’s pale lips made him sure of it—but something about Gannon’s speech and body language… It gave Griffin an odd sense of comfort that he didn’t want and certainly didn’t appreciate.

  “Well, I will be seeing you when everything is complete. Good luck.” On that reassuring note, Gannon turned to excuse himself, but he was stopped immediately, met head-on by Justus.

  Gannon’s smooth vocal pattern flared with rigid hostility. “I believe you’re in my way as always. Step aside. Please.”

  A tail and set of horns should have sprouted from Justus. He had always been a complicated person, but he had just been falling in an endless spiral lately. Each hurtful act beat out the last; now, he was just a body held up by broken bones and hardened bruises. So far gone, he flat-out denied Gannon’s request, instead taking a fuming step closer.

  “HEY!” Typo took a sharp step forward to defend his Lord; the gunners lining the interior balcony prepared to fire, but Gannon threw his arm across the demon’s chest, denying him of farther advancement.

  “No. Let’s hear him out.”

  “Him,” Justus echoed with hate. “HIM. Really? You can’t even use my name? For fuck’s sake, you used HIS. What, do you really deny me to that extent? I get not wanting to be your son, because trust me, you’re a pitiful excuse for a father, but to not even have the decency to use the name you gave me? Are you that pathetic?”

  The assault didn’t make Gannon bat an eye. “That I gave you? Why would I bother to name someone I just wanted dead? If you hate your name so much, blame your mother.”

  Justus’ muscles tensed to such extremes that every tendon and blood vessel poked through his skin. “You son of a bitch…”

  Gannon sighed. “Yes, clearly. We both are. Lovely reunion, but are we done here? I have things to do, and so do you if you wish to keep a pulse.”

  In spite of everything that Justus had done, Griffin truly felt sick when Gannon pushed past his son and went on his way. Griffin’s own injured heart shared some of the aches; he could never compare to Justus on the same level, but being abandoned… That hurt everyone, even the abandoner; they just never let it show because they were too focused on what they thought was more important.

  Typo took leave with his overlord, the scientists resuming their work as well.

  All gun barrels remained on the post named Justus. He kept his sheltered gaze to his feet, bunching his knuckles at his sides while his legs shook, telling him to turn around and keep after his father—but he couldn’t. He couldn’t do anything but slowly grab the shackle around his neck, releasing a seething breath of air. “Of course… Of fucking course.” He flashed Griffin an exasperated glare. “Aren’t parents great? So loving and supporting.”

  “You never told me who your father was,” Griffin cautiously replied.

  “You never asked.”

  …Fair point, but your father being the man who literally wants to destroy the world? He didn’t know how that was left out. “I’m sorry…”

  “Thanks, but no thanks.” Justus moved back behind the table; the Haxors slowly lowered their weapons when he resumed his work.

  Griffin waited a moment, watching, before his mind dared one more time. “My father went out to work one night and never came home…” Griffin softly admitted. His words immediately recaptured Justus’ attention. “Eero’s mother killed him, actually, along with all the other knights in the village. And my mother? She was as crazy as they come—had Kevin burned at the stake just because he hit me too hard with a piece of paper. I left as soon as I didn’t need her.”

  Justus put down his wrench. His hard expression suffered a microscopic crack. “You gave up on your mother…?”

  Griffin blinked, taken back. “What?”

  “A mother is a gift! Maybe yours was a loon, but she was still yours! Heck, you came to this future young and alone, didn’t you? She probably died wondering where she ever went wrong, never knowing what happened to her son!”

  “You don’t know the first thing about my life!” Griffin spat, so fueled with anger that he grabbed the drain holes, pulling himself over to the glass. “And where is your mother, huh? If she loves you so much, where is she?!”

  Justus scoffed, grabbing the wrench and digging into the heart of Griffin’s arm. “Ask Gannon if you’re on such good terms with him. I’m finished with you.”

  Hands on the tube, suctioned to the wall and staring down his distraught mentor, Griffin shook his head. “What the hell happened to you? Do you really hate me this much?”

  “Yes.” Justus pushed the arm aside, reaching below his work desk while looking his ex-apprentice in the eye. “I did everything that I could to try and connect with you… Make a real friend. But you didn’t care, and honestly, I don’t either. But even so, I’m such a nice person that I’m still going to give you what you’ve always wanted.

  “Goodbye, Griffin de Vaux.”

  The hiss of refrosting glass crept back over the chamber. The sound of rushing water hit Griffin full on, and when he looked up, a shower of green poured down, bashing him in the face and knocking him onto the metal floor back-first. Griffin didn’t even have the opportunity to scream; his face was being pounded in, and the levels were quickly rising—he knew it was only a matter of time, and with useless legs and one arm, he couldn’t even swim up to buy himself a few more precious seconds until the chamber was filled to capacity.

  The seconds ticked and tocked at a speed so sluggish no one besides the dying could fathom it. In place of Justus’ vanishing face, the world began to morph into a vast, physical abyss that Griffin could feel around him. His sense of hearing heightened with the death of vision, and laughter rose in a mocking chorus, pounding at his weighed head with hammers and nails forged by self-demeaning thoughts.

  The poison was different than before—the entire entrapment process was. The pressure increased, squishing him, pushing him to the bottom of his newly found hell. Blood vessels ruptured; cracking nerves broke with crumbling bone, and Griffin could see none of it, only feel a pain so excruciating that it had little feeling at all.

  He just lay there in the darkness of his fading mind, fully aware of his fleeting self, and yet, he laughed a laughter full of tears as his brain gave in. He bore witness to its fall, watching his memories crumble and disperse like dust. His brother embracing him in their departing hug vanished, and then he couldn’t even remember who that man was—or that he had even hugged him. Laelia’s ridiculing finger in his face was cast to the wind, and so was his little hideout in Phantome, which then became just a random hut in some forest; the lost boy that he shared a bonding loaf of bread there with became a stranger before his existence was forgotten as well.

  Collecting the remnants of Griffin’s life was a silhouetted figure, whose misty body flowed in such a hypnotic fashion that only the glistening white, churning edges gave away their presence. A spiraling hole swung back and forth as a pendulum at their heart, absorbing the fragments of Griffin’s existence and locking them away for all eternity.

  Griffin snorted and chortled irately. He was only able to see the being so long as focus never strayed, but the creature was not offended. It kept watch until all the sparkling stragglers of Griffin’s life entered its chest, making it slightly grow in size.

  A boom of thunder and a bolt of lightning from previously unseen eyes collided with Griffin’s befallen chest, burning him from the inside and bringing his life to an abrupt, unexpected close, making him laugh until he choked on his own blood.

  Seventeen

  Revolution

  Being your own boss is fun—but an employee? Not so much.

  Mainly because of the damn meetings—and why I was hired in the first place wasn’t because of my massive strength or kill-st
reak tendencies, but because Mabel ran her mouth about me still having that little wimp of a human somewhere in my head. Maybe she was right, but he wouldn’t recover.

  Still, Mabel obviously thought differently. She would have gutted me with her teeth to bring him back if that’s what it took.

  The soldiers of what I guess I was a part of were called Encryptors; the whole group was the Encryption. Creative. I had never seen crazier humans; they had a right to be on high alert after almost being blown off the face of the Earth, but even then, it was a bit excessive. They were kept tucked away beneath the surface like a herd of cattle for two days now, most always statues. If someone had to piss outside of appropriated times, they had to be escorted after Pinion herself approved the bathroom break; they slept in the trackers to make sure no false moves were made, and Satan forbid if someone complained that they were bored.

  I was thankfully one of the few lucky souls able to grace the surface because of my demonic origins; Korbu and (sadly) Sage were included in that bunch, along with a swathe of lerials and a sorceress who I personally nicknamed “Nose”—not only for her skills but because she was so damn nosey, always popping out of a tree or appearing behind my back, ranting and raving “sama” this, “sama” that, blah blah blah.

  Nose and her clan of demons were always on the surface keeping lookout. Korbu and I mostly stayed with the higher-ups; Pinion said it was because of our strengths, but I knew it was because there wasn’t a trusting bone in her body, especially for me.

  That lack of trust kept me sitting here in the tunnels away from the rest of the warriors, nearly nodding off to sleep. Even being soldiers for an extended period of time, the others filling the tunnel with me looked equally as interested in the meeting that Pinion called to order, but it wasn’t out of ignorance, rather exhaustion. They were running on empty, repeatedly failing to grasp their long sought-after goal that dangled just out of arm’s reach.

  It was the first downfall of any army.

  “So, what ended up being the final count, Peace?” Pinion began, sitting across from me with politely folded legs. She was the only person one hundred percent with us right now; I was definitely the least, allowing a long string of drool to seep out of my lip.

  A woman in a lengthy set of tattered robes with a gold cufflink replied. “Two hundred and fifty-four remaining in total… 79.9% casualty rate from the last battle: 70.4% confirmed dead, 9.5% MIA.”

  Pinion pinched the bridge of her nose, forcing out a constricted sigh. “Years… Years upon years, I’ve been building this force, and they obliterate us in under a month. Fucking ridiculous.” She raised her eyes and overlooked her small group of higher-ups. “This may seem like a stupid team-building exercise, but I think it’s important to ask before we continue: how are you all feeling?”

  “Dandy as always,” Flye snickered, flicking her purple vial. “Took down a few Elites back there—was a nice high.”

  “Yup,” Virgil confirmed with profound distaste. “She’s obviously fine if she’s still treating war like a game.”

  Flye humorously blew a raspberry. “Bruh, please, I’m the best. I’m like the slickest ninja you will find. My KD ratio is 305:0 and counting. Gimme a real challenge, would you?”

  Virgil snorted. “Yeah, it’s such an easy game that you nearly relied on your demon sword.”

  Pinion slammed her hands down, a seismic wave of green flying through the earth. “You almost did what, Flye?!”

  “…Uh…” Flye whipped her head from leader to commander, whimpering fearfully until she finally threw her finger accusingly at Virgil. “TATTLETALE!”

  “Rightfully so!” Pinion defended. “Life or death only, Flye!”

  “And what was that supposed to be? An episode of live and prosper? FYI, I didn’t use it, alright? Chill!”

  There was so much more that wanted to roll off Pinion’s tongue, but she resisted the urge, inhaling deeply and forcing her eyes to switch routes—and sadly, to me. “So, how do you like your natural form? Quite hideous, yes? Nothing compared to an angel’s.”

  I folded my arms behind my head and reclined against the wall. “You? Angel? Could have fooled me.”

  Her chilling blue eyes shifted to an irritated teal. “Still a smart little shit… I can’t catch a break.”

  “He’s a million times worse than before,” Mabel input. “Even I have trouble putting up with him.”

  Pinion’s eyes darkened. “Thank you for expressing your petty thoughts, but I’ve handled my fair share of assholes over eight hundredish years. What I’m really interested in is where the hell you both took a vacation to.”

  “Yeah, Pinion, me too.”

  The abnormally harsh voice brought all attention to the malnourished star huddled against the wall next to the queen. “Had I not known better, I would have proclaimed you dead.”

  Pinion leaned forward and loomed above Seek, the shadows that pulled on her skin so dark that she looked as though she had crawled straight out of the pits of Hell—believe me, I knew. “What are you getting at?”

  Seek proved to be unintimidated, taking her sweet time blinking while propping her face up with a hand. “Where did you head off to? You vanished after the raid and so graciously chose to show up when there was nearly no one left to save. What were you doing?”

  Pinion was taken back, scoffing in surprise. “How dare you—!”

  “I agree.”

  Pinion’s head nearly flew off with the speed she turned to Virgil at. He met her square on with unblinking, searching eyes. “Just where were you?”

  “Are you serious? You’re questioning me? It should be the other way around. I trusted you to step up if something ever happened to me. Based on what I’ve come back to, I see that you couldn’t handle the pressure.”

  The hardened veteran boldly stood, smoothly blending into the background to form a set of levitating, liquid red eyes. “Mistakes were made, yes, but they never would have happened had I not been appointed leader—and I shouldn’t have been, seeing as how nothing happened to you.” He thrust a gruff finger in my direction. “I’m not making excuses for them, but you’re not one to talk right now. At least they came back with new powers, allies, and weapons. What about you?”

  All color within her eyes vanished. “You really shouldn’t question my strategies, Prelude. I have my reasons, just as you have yours, and mutant group of demons or not, had I not showed up when I did, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation, now would we?”

  “Perhaps not, but you look me in the eye then and tell me just what strategy you were trying to fulfill! What did you figure out playing hooky, huh?!”

  She looked down, lips straight and eyes extinguished. “Nothing.”

  My senses heightened with surprise. Being the king of lies, it was so easy to see her own. There was something she discovered, but her lips were staying sealed. But why if this was really the end? Still, it wasn’t any of my business—any of my concern. I was only here to yank the crown away from both parties who were squabbling for control like two petty toddlers.

  Virgil openly defied Pinion with the snap of his teeth, growling like an animal. “Pinion, I swear, you’re walking a thin line…”

  “Oh, am I?” She rose to meet her tactician’s challenge, keeping a pulsing wing at the ready. “Trust me when I say yours is thinner.”

  “Ohhh!” Sage flew onto their feet, plucking their needle from their neck and gaily waving it around like a baton. “I say, how thin of a line are we talking?! Yarn thin? Silk thin?” They lifted their shirt above their tape-measure belt, revealing a hoarder’s dream pantry of spools. “Spider web thinnn?”

  We all just stared, dumbfounded; Sage and their brain-injured self was too stupid to get the hint.

  Pinion grunted, distancing herself from Virgil and retaking her seat. “Remind me who you are again.”

  Sage smiled in awe. They took their saber and proudly stabbed themself through the heart as a personalized salute to the queen.
“Sage, ma’aaam!”

  A true sense of surprise captured Pinion’s face. Her eyes robotically scanned our ally from head to toe several times before she took a good look at Sage’s pitiful excuse of a face. The puppet was all smiles, their excitement only piquing in spite of Pinion’s blah expression. After a few seconds, the queen looked away and went back to business, ignoring the doll who continued to remain at attention while oozing stuffing. “What are they, a demon?”

  “We have no clue,” Mabel answered.

  “Nope!” Sage giggled. “I am me!”

  “Same answer we got,” Korbu grumbled.

  “But whatever they are, they’re a very good fighter,” Mabel added. “Their regenerative abilities are unmatchable.”

  “Well, that’s one way to make choosing our front lines real easy,” Pinion mused.

  Sage gasped in bewilderment. “You mean I’m gonna be a leader?!”

  Pinion waved them away. “Sure, call it what you will. Now, if you all are done pointing fingers, I suggest you sit down and shut up.”

  It was anything but true to say that tensions weren’t running high, especially in such a claustrophobic space, but Sage smacked down onto their bottom via crisscross-applesauce, and Virgil tucked away his own grudges, retaking his seat as Pinion resumed. “My question is: ‘Where do we go from here?’ We obviously cannot wait around any longer, but aside from Pikë, there is no place that offers shelter on this side of the divide. We need to attack, but it is impossible to move what’s left of the army back into the empire without it being obvious.”

  “And what’s worse is that Justus is MIA,” Peace lamented. “Griffin and Embry too. We lost all of our skilled technicians in one go.”

  Flye snorted. “I wouldn’t exactly call Griffin ‘skilled.’”