#T3CHN0 DLC: CATALYST

[kentuckywrites]

T3CHN0 DLC: CATALYST

CATALYST (noun). A person or thing that precipitates an event.

Featuring Ruadha and Ophelia from @skell-pilot-sora .

"Race you for it THREETWOONEGO!" 

Ruadha’s twin Gemels were out in seconds, the grappling daggers deploying and sinking into the ground far off. He got a flying headstart, smiling all the way. Should he have asked for directions back to the city before initiating a race? Nah, he’d find his way. He always did, and even if he didn’t, the adventure was what truly mattered in the end! Even the victory that came with winning a race didn’t matter as much to them, not in that moment.

What mattered was that Fudge was alive. Fudge Carson, their best friend, their buddy through thick and thin, was alive and well and breathing. 

Ruadha remembered the pain. He remembered hearing the news about Carson Tech, a terrorist sneaking in and igniting a bomb that destroyed the entire building, caved it inwards like a house of cards. He remembered his Mamaj coming home, pale as a ghost, bandages covering up her more serious wounds and her arm in a cast. He remembered his mind on a constant loop, his energy faded and dull, upon hearing the news, seeing Fudge’s grave a few days later. 

Seeing Fudge alive was…it was a miracle. A blessing, a wish Ruadha had sent to the stars, but never once did he think it would come true. 

And that was why his smile was brighter than it had ever been, that was why Ruadha embraced the skies with more vigor than ever before. Their method of travel meant that there were constant points where they’d end up launching themselves higher, higher into the sky, and in those moments they could see Fudge blasting underneath them, feet plastered onto the back of his rocket hammer. He gained a decent lead, knowing the way back far better than Ruadha did, but it didn’t matter. He could see Fudge’s determined smirk, hear his laughter on the wind. Alive, alive and happy and as it should be. Ruadha felt a small ache in his heart; he’d missed this, he’d missed this so much. He never wanted this to end. 

The city walls appeared on the horizon, and Fudge looked upwards, keeping track of where Ruadha was. He said something about competing against a rocket hammer, his voice dull against the thrill of the moment, but he failed to notice how close he was to the gate. He smacked headfirst into the support beam, his rocket hammer flying further into the city. Ruadha promptly burst out laughing at the image. But in his laughing fit, he didn’t pay attention to his angle of descent. He ended up gliding through the air, nearly crash-landing, but he managed to get his shield angled upwards so he could avoid smacking into Fudge’s back. 

…Of course, that’s what he thought he did.

Was it the wind that angled him down again? No, there was something deeper, a new feeling that had crept up inside Ruadha’s heart to replace the nostalgia. His head pounded as he made contact with the beam, the shield sticking itself deep within the wall as he toppled backwards, skidding across the steel flooring. Groaning, Ruadha picked themselves up, their smile wavering as they observed the damage. Worst case scenario, they’d have to pay to repair the wall -

No. No, no no no no. No. NO. 

The shield was embedded in the wall. Fudge’s decapitated head was perched on top of it like a hunting prize while the rest of his lifeless body bled out on the floor, broken, irreparable. 

Ruadha stood up on shaky legs, unable to pull his gaze away from the scene. He couldn’t move past this spot, frozen, incapable of processing what he’d done. This couldn’t be real, this didn’t feel real. No, he wouldn’t accept this. 

When he finally found the will to move, Ruadha stepped forward, forward, bending down to grab his gemels. Why did he care about them? Fudge was dead. Dead again. By his hands, his stupid idiot hands, he was so dumb it hurt -

Why was he pointing a gemel at Fudge’s head? Wait, hold on, no, he shouldn’t have a finger on the trigger. He was dead, he was dead, what the fuck was he doing -

BANG.

The first shot rang out louder than Ruadha could process. It hit Fudge’s head square between the eyes. Black blood dripped from the wound. Ruadha tried to force their hand down, tried to remove their finger from the trigger, but it remained in its spot despite their mental resistance. Lightning shot up his spine, something embedded there that he hadn’t felt before, and when the lightning reached his mind he screamed, loud and clear and pained. The gemel fired again.

BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG -

“Ruadha.”

Finally, free will returned to him, and Ruadha looked over his shoulder. That voice…it was Mamaj. Ophelia. Her tone was colder than the blood beneath his skin, ice cold and stoic. It wasn’t like anything he’d heard before. 

“Mamaj?...” He whispered, afraid of the answer, afraid of what he would say next.

But she didn’t. She said nothing, nothing at all. She shook her head, turned her back to him, walking back into Primordia, into - no, no, that wasn’t Primordia. Primordia was not a spiral into darkness, a tunnel into a void unknown. It swallowed Ophelia whole before he could scream for her to come back, come back and help him, and eventually the void touched his feet and removed every waking scene from his vision. Everything disappeared with the shadow…

Save for Fudge’s body, sprawled out on the ground, and Fudge’s head, still perched on the shield above. 

Ruadha fell to their knees. They cried and screamed and begged the world to return life to them, they couldn’t stand it here, this void of loneliness with only their mistake to haunt them, they couldn’t fucking breathe -

~

Ruadha woke with a start, nearly falling out of his chair. The force pushed it back from the desk he’d been sleeping on top of, and it spun until it hit a wall. He panted, trying to regain his surroundings, convince himself that it was all a dream. Yes, he knew where he was. This was Fudge’s lab, the messy abode of creation. The freckled Outfitter wasn’t far, sitting in front of the monitors in the center of the room, eyes wide and watching. 

“...You good, Ru?” Fudge asked carefully, putting the screwdriver in his hand down. His face was smeared with motor oil - right, yes, they were trying to recalibrate the engine for Fudge’s new Skell. Ruadha nodded, though he knew every part of him betrayed this answer. Fudge continued to stare, expression blank for a moment. He opened his mouth to say more, but Ruadha spoke first.

“Bad dream. Very bad dream. This isn’t still a dream, is it? You’re here? You’re alive? You’re not dead and I’m not still dreaming?”

It came out in a rush, a rush that was characteristic of him at this point. He gripped the sides of the rolling chair, waiting for Fudge’s response. Finally, Fudge chuckled, grinning with a gentle warmth that most people weren’t lucky enough to see.

“Not a dream. I’m here. I’m alive. I’m not dead and you’re not still dreaming.”

“Good. Awesome. Perfect. Excellent.” Ruadha repeated synonyms, all for himself, all for consolation. He slid further down into his chair, breathing a sigh of relief. His eyes closed for a second, long enough that when he opened them again, Fudge had gotten up, was approaching him. He offered out a hand for Ruadha to take, and when he did, when he pulled himself up, their hands stayed like that for a second. The warmth was appreciated, and Ruadha ended up mirroring Fudge’s smile. When their hands finally separated, Fudge beckoned with his head over to the monitors, to the piece of engine he was working on, still on the table in front of them.

“Talk to me about it while we build. The distraction might help.” Fudge offered, “Unless you still need a minute, I mean.”

“Nope, we have so many minutes, I don’t wanna spend them sitting down,” Ruadha chirped, his energy slowly crawling back to him, “We build today. We build every day. It’s better like this.”

The last sentence was a slip, a confession from the heart. Fudge paused before responding. 

“It is. It really is.”