False Gods | The Prime Archives #3 ✓

twenty-one

Chase awoke to the smell of bacon sizzling on a grill in the kitchen. His mouth immediately started to salivate, and his stomach rumbled with the ferocity of a lion's roar.

He couldn't even remember the last time he had bacon—or a home-cooked meal. For the past few months, he had been on a strict diet of stale cereal, lumpy oatmeal, and water. Yawning, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and sat on the end of the soft mattress.

He didn't even remember falling asleep. After Pearce showed his group to their rooms, he knocked out as soon as his head hit one of the plush pillows on the queen-sized bed that had been assigned to him. It was as if he had fallen asleep on a cloud in heaven.

Anything was better than his pillowless cot back at The Haven.

As he sat on the edge of the bed, he frowned at the thought of their compromised base.

It had just started to feel like home to them. They had begun to settle into their routines, built schedules for everyone, and even started decorating the underground bunker. Right when things started to resemble any sense of normalcy, it had been ripped away from them.

Atlas ruined everything.

Orion ruined everything.

Chase's hands clenched around the metal bedframe until it snapped. The frame folded inward, causing the mattress to fall into the open space—taking him with it. He cried out in surprise as he was flung from the bed onto the floor. Groaning, he rubbed his elbow and picked himself up.

Victor—who he was sharing a room with—shook his head at him. The man was tugging on a black muscle shirt with his back facing the blond.

"You're a menace to furniture everywhere."

Chase laughed sarcastically while shooting him a pointed look. "Ha-ha, very funny." As he watched him, he scratched his scruffy beard. "You see your dad yet?"

"I saw him last night when we walked in."

"I know that. I meant did you talk to him yet?"

"Talk to him..." Victor chuckled. He turned around sporting a deadpan expression on his pale face. "No, I haven't talked to him. What am I supposed to say to him? 'Hey, dad, long time no see. Sorry for trying to murder you all those years ago'. Yeah, no thanks. I'll continue avoiding him until we leave."

"You can't do that. He's your father."

"Oh really? Just watch me."

Chase pursed his lips at him. "You gotta relax, Vic."

"Don't," Victor pointed a finger at him, "Don't call me that."

He held his hands up innocently. "Jeez, my bad." He dropped them back to his sides. "Look, all I'm saying is that you've gotta relax a little. I'm sure he's forgiven you for what you did."

"That's what you think." Shaking his head, Victor grabbed his katana and the sheath he kept wrapped around his hip. After tying the strap around his waist, he teleported to the door. "I'll see you in the kitchen."

"Yeah, alright."

Chase shook his head as he watched him teleport away.

He's got serious issues.

The blond wasn't sure if he'd ever fully work through them. For all their sakes, he hoped he did.

After changing out of his clothes and into some threads he found in the room's walk-in closet, he ventured into the bathroom across the hall. Isra was wheeling Archie out of it; the latter sported dried toothpaste on the corners of his mouth while the former laughed while he tried to rub it off.