A Work of Art

Low Point

Eager to put the almost failure behind them, the 6 resumed their trip once more to Casmont Station. Fiddling with the onboard map system (set to offline, of course), Eden began driving. The route was thankfully short and straight; a mere 30 minute drive. The air was thick with tension and uncertainty until Seraphim broke the silence. “So… what do we think of that guy?”

Alexandra scoffed. “It doesn't matter what we believe. What we KNOW is that we let a man escape who has been paid to kill us. And now he's running amok, telling people we're still alive, as is Duet.”

“I dunno,” Eden said. “He seemed… trustworthy. It's not like he was aggressive. I mean, they were four trained professionals against two actual fighters, one sorta doctor kinda, and…” They glanced at Reikas, who gave a weak smile and wave. “...Reikas. It seems like it would've been easy enough for him to help them take us out, but he didn't. I think he's genuine.”

Leaning back in his chair, Reikas sighed. “Look. I know it's stressful now. But what're we gonna do? Go on a fucking manhunt for one guy? All we can do is stay calm and keep low. I think.”

“That's… surprisingly level headed from you, Rei.”

“Hey, gimme some credit. I'm not some hack with no experience anymore. I killed a corp jockey, and in self defense! I'm legally fine, and it makes my eye scar that much cooler. Like, twice as cool.” At Reikas’ mention of his fake scar, Alexandra's head rose.

“Your… eye scar? I didn't know you had experience.”

“Oh, it's actually just a fmmmphmkm.” Eden's attempted explanation was quickly muffled with Reikas’ hand and clearing of his throat.

“I-it's actually just a light wound. Just had to, uh, survive in the projects as a kid. Got the wrong end of a knife. No big deal.”

“...I see,” the blind woman said. “Perhaps I misjudged you.” Reikas’ grin contrasted the judgemental looks he received from his other two cohorts. The six continued to discuss much of nothing, although it was hard to determine if it was a way to build camaraderie or ignore the air of unease.

At last, their destination appeared in front of them; Casmont Station. The area was still filled with flora, which made the pure white building stand out that much more. It was essentially just a white rectangle, with sets of train tracks leading into parts rendered invisible by the terrain and trees. The only splash of color on the outside was a large portrait of the main entrance, depicting an elderly black man, with the signature “Damian Casmont” underneath. Eden parked the car against the rather distant curb as all of them exited, Seraphim's gaze locked to the ground. She trailed behind the group with a deep sigh, catching Alexandra's attention.

“...come. We should not stall this part out. This is the easy section.”

“Easy for you t'say,” Seraphim groaned. “It could've been my portrait up there instead of Dad's. I could've had a good life. And I threw it away for some dumb dreams I had as a kid.” She took a deep breath. “Ugh, feels like he's still looking down on me from that stupid fucking painting.”

Alexandra paused. She approached Seraphim, putting a firm hand on her shoulder. “Of course, I cannot tell you what your life would be like should you have stayed in your position. But think on it like this: without you, we would not be even remotely close to this position in our lives. Truth be told, it feels… nice to have someone I can truly rely on. So for what it's worth… thank you, Seraphim Casmont.”

Seraphim paused for a moment, mulling over the athlete's words. “...don't call me Casmont. I ain't one of those assholes. I'm just Seraphim. I'm just me.”

“Then thank you, Seraphim. Your singing voice is also rather pleasant to listen to.” For the first time in who knows how long, Alexandra smiled a genuine smile. Seraphim stood, shocked. She quickly snapped herself out of it, her expression growing to match Alexandra's.

“...thanks, Alex.” The two caught up to the others, who were too busy discussing Reikas’ attempts of getting commission work done. They reached the main entrance as Duet held tight onto two tickets. Entrance was forbidden except for ticket holders, of course. A handshake was offered to each smuggler, and with each greeting, the money was transferred to their accounts. Duet stepped inside, holding her child tightly. As the large metallic doors shut, Duet nodded.

“We'll be in touch.”

Before any questions could be asked, the entrance shut and locked automatically. The group climbed back into the car, relief cutting through the once thick atmosphere. Reikas turned his head back to Alexandra. “So, where are we dropping you off?”

“Excuse me?”

“You know, your home. Your hideout. Whatever. Where are we dumping you?”

“I am offended you would simply toss me to the side as if I'm a common junkie,” she scoffed. “To be quite frank, I… did not plan this part out. I had assumed I would simply fly back to France, although I suppose now is not the best time to alert the governments to my whereabouts.”

Eden sighed. “Yeah… with that guy we let go running about, it's probably best we just lay low for a bit. If you have nowhere else to go, you could crash with us. It's a bit small though…”

“That would be very much appreciated.” Reikas threw his head back in annoyance. Silent, however, was Seraphim. Her gaze was focused on the scenery and how it sped by the car, much as her thoughts came and went. It felt… good. It felt good to finally have any idea of what to do. It felt good to have people in her corner, despite being reminded of all those who opposed her trying to live on her own merit. It felt good to have new support. She sighed, and she wasn't sure if it was from exhaustion or contentment.