Survival is Crucial

Digital Black

Skin hung off of Maxim's knuckles as he winced in pain, looking over to the destruction he had wrought before him -- Djembe, his throat having a massive dent in it as saliva dripped from his lower lip, almost completely limp while pressed up against a wall, various boxes and the like torn to shreds while some remnants of electricity could be seen pulsing throughout the warehouse. Everyone there watched in astonishment, some who had fallen onto the floor while others were still standing, including Nixon. Maxim sighed, "Y'know... I couldn't let him continue..." Maxim paused, turning to Nixon, "Too much, y'know?"

A few seconds before...

Maxim quickly slipped out from his binding before quickly sprinting over to Djembe and slamming his fist into Djembe's throat, making sure to lower his head preemptively for a punch that Djembe had prepped beforehand. Djembe keeled over, grasping at his throat as Maxim grabbed both of his legs, lifting him up in the air before running into a wall, slamming him against the wall, knocking Djembe out before slowly dying due to his damaged windpipe. Maxim jumped away, backing up into a safe distance before stopping, shaking his injured hand, wincing in pain. Everything that happened before, everything that happened then... needless to say, that no one could process it properly. Marshall was surprised at first but quickly regained his composure.

Marshall took a deep breath before letting out a long sigh, "So... Maxim. Do you know what the f**k that was?"

Maxim looked over to Marshall before shrugging, "I don't know. I'm not a part of the Escravos."

Marshall started rubbing the bridge of his nose, "We should've done a background check on Djembe."

Nixon fell to the ground, looking to the roof of the warehouse, "Hindsight is 20/20," Nixon put his hands on his face, curling up into a fetal position, "These f*****g guys have superpowers?"

"They're probably really elaborate with keeping that s**t a secret, so they'll probably up the ante," Maxim commented, looking back over to Djembe. "There are two more assholes that have been watching us outside the warehouse for a few minutes now."

"Le-" Marshall stopped himself, "Why tell us that?"

Maxim shrugged with a smug expression on his face, "You want me to handle them, or not?"

Marshall sighed, "We'll let them go for now, just keep an eye on them so they don't do anything to us."

Maxim smirked, doing a salute, "Alright, Boss!"

Marshall clicked his tongue as Maxim waltzed over to the warehouse doors in an almost exaggerated manner before throwing both doors open, wincing slightly. Marshall pressed his lips together, leaning out of the door to look for the both of them, seeming almost impressed.

"They sure know how to run." Maxim chuckled before peeking back into the warehouse, "I'm gonna kidnap them!"

Marshall sighed, "Do what you want with 'em."

Maxim gave Marshall a thumbs up before leaving. A wave of relief fell upon everyone else in the room before one of the guards put a bullet in Djembe's head, just in case. Nixon laid onto the floor, looking up at the ceiling. "My body hurts..." Nixon mumbled.

Marshall looked to Nixon, "Are you okay?"

"Not really... it's only been a day and it feels like a week," Nixon sighed, "I miss Yua."

"Once we get to the Escravos and figure everything out from there, everything will go back to normal."

"No, it won't... that's not how this s**t works."

Marshall made a sour expression.

"This s**t is awful... I'm really not handling this well."

"Think of this as a way to get stronger."

"Well... I'm already somewhat crippled due to all of the people who had shot me during the past few days."

"Doesn't mean you can't be stronger from this."

"f**k you..."

Marshall sighed, "Yeah... f**k me right?"

Nixon threw a piece of wood at Marshall before his arm limply fell back onto the ground, "Asshole."

Marshall chuckled, looking a bit more irritated than before, "Yeah..."

The smell of burnt flesh, the feeling of leftover static surging through the air, two corpses emitting the permeating scent of iron. The miasma that filled the room could be ignored, there are bigger issues, after all, but, Nixon couldn't help but take notes about the stench in his head, seeing if he could memorize it. Nixon didn't know why he wanted to do this but he felt it to be the best decision at the time before stifling some bile in his throat.

Outside, Maxim had already restrained both Turon and Alceu. "f**k!" Alceu yelled as Turon let out a somber sigh before giving Maxim a concerned expression.

"So... Maxim," Turon started, "I have a question."

"Hm?" Maxim raised an eyebrow, hands on his hips.

"Do you know what just happened in there?"

"I have no clue."

"So... no..." Turon shook his head, "None of this s**t makes sense."

Alceu's face became uncomfortable, staring down at the floor without looking anyone in the eye, almost as if he were humiliated.

"Why did he...?"

"Seeing superpowers is weird, isn't it?"

"You say it like it isn't your first time?"

"It isn't, but I still don't know how the hell your gang does it."

Turon became distressed, "Why didn't we know about this shit...?"

"Because you're lackeys. You aren't top dogs. Normally people within the Escravos are the top of the top but even the top isn't getting you anywhere when there are people even up higher than that."

"Why was Djembe given it then...?"

"Because they fully expected their plan to work. They planned on glassing the entire room but of course, I was there."

Turon shook their head.

"Question the integrity of the gang, huh?"

"What?"

"Well, it's a pretty shitty idea to send someone with one of your biggest secrets to go and kill one kid and everyone allied with him, right?"

Turon and Alceu had gone completely silent, trying their best to process what was going on. Maxim brought both of them to their feet and headed straight back into the warehouse.