𝐢𝐝𝐲𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐜 | 𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐩𝐧

𝟑𝟕| 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚: 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬...

   𝐘/𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐤. Of course they would, there was another human right before them. But, they watched in horror as he displayed his terrible manners. He was drinking out of a shattered cup that seemed poorly fixed and unable to hold any tea. His clothes were all mismatched and what Gilda would describe as 'individualistic'. Everyone was disappointed at the sight in front of him. Everyone but Y/n, she wanted to give him at least a chance.

   "Are you Minerva?" She asked.

   "Nope. Too bad for you kids, I'm not William Minerva."

   Ray frowned, "then please call him. We came all the way here in order to meet Minerva."

   "He aint here, chum. What a shame, huh? No Minervas around here, at all."

   "So Minerva was really a dirty liar!?" Alicia yelled.

   "Calm down," Ray assured, " clearly you know of Minerva, too. We need more information. Where is he right now?"

   The estranged man tipped back in his seat and laughed, "no idea, man!"

   "Who are you? What are you doing here?"

   "Who am I?! I'm your senior," he held up a pen, one similar to the one they had.

   "It's the same pen..." Alicia whispered.

   "Senior?" Mark repeated.

   "Yup. Well, not from Grace Field, at any rate," he pulled up his shirt and revealed a set of letters on his torso, "I come from a plantation called Glory Bell. I escaped it thirteen years ago. With my colleagues. And thanks to this pen."

   "He's like us, the same as us."

   "That's right. I'm just the same as you. Ended up here while searching for Minerva. However, When I finally reached the place for real, Minerva wasn't around. I waited for him a hella long time, ended up living here, and no trace of the man. No way around it, man's a dirty liar."

   "See?!"

   "Though... I gotta say I'm grateful for this shelter, y'know? There's a stock of water and food, running electricity... plenty of living space, too. Eveythings provided for. And a lot of material about the world, and valuable information. Hurrah for my man Minerva!"

   Y/n spoke up, "say, where's the rest of your group then?"

   "Dead. All of 'em. I'm the only survivor," he noticed her frown, "ah- don't get so gloomy now! It all happened a long time ago. And I gave up looking for Minerva a long time ago, too. Now I'm just taking my time and having it easy."

   "Whaa... you gave up, Mister?" Dominic asked.

   "What's up with you guys, though? What sorta group are you?"

   "Ah- We're..."

   "Hold it. You're from Grace Field, and you're the fifteen that escaped it seven days ago. That much is clear enough. A glance at this and it was obvious," he pointed to his neck, referencing the numbers on their neck, "what I wanna know is... How come a bunch of total suckers like you chumps managed to survive this long without a single one biting the dust?"

   "Huh?" Don hummed in shock.

   "Look, it's just like I said. This is a shelter. Food, water, furnished rooms... it has everything. However... stocks are limited, you know? I'm not letting anyone take a single bite of my share. I'm serious. I'm older than you, I came here first. This is my home. And consequently. Yall gonna die. Sooner or later, you die. One hundred percent chance. 'Cause you're weak."

   "We're not-!"

   "Are too. Just look at you. It's obvious you all never even been on the grip of death. You've barely scratched the surface of the very basics... And yet you're all here. This is nagging me. The very image of naive chumps who know nothing... that's why I can guarantee it. You will die. No matter what you do, it's simply impossible to stay alive out in this world."

   Ray grunted, "that's what happened to your former colleagues?"

   "Exactly. Dead one after another, 'cause they were wimps. Until I was the only survivor. I was the only one able to survive. Thirteen years. Only I... only I figured out the trick to stay alive."

   "The trick?" Eugene asked.

   "Drop the dead weight. Comrades equal dead weight. Hope equals dead weight. Caring equals dead weight. All of that just weighs you down."

   His words inaugurated Y/n. She slammed her hands on the table and shouted, "you're wrong!"

   "Afraid im not. It does," as he talked, he shrugged off his jacket and reached behind him. Everyone gasped as he pulled Y/n close, his arm around her neck and the barrel of a gun pointed to her head.

   "Y/n!" The children shouted and Ray looked distraught.

   "Worst dead weight of all is a troupe of clowns passing as chums. Hand it over," he sighed when no one understood, "your pen, kids. Fork it already. I'll be keeping it so yall never step in here again. I don't want anyone weighing me down. Sorry, but you guys will have to leave. Well then, gimme your pen and get the hell away from my face. Otherwise, every single one of you is gonna die right here and now.

   Y/n struggled against the man and shook her head, telling Ray to not give away the pen. She watched her siblings' faces in fear. The girl didn't even care that her life was at risk, she was more worried that her siblings would have to watch her die, and then die themselves after.

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𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫

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