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You grip the sceptre tightly, and a calming sense fills your mind and drowns out the raging storm of noise around you. You think it is a trick of your eyes, but the coding around you seems to slow down and settle into place. The angriness and hate of the place soothes out, leaving placid waters of solace. It is not the feeling that comes with the quiet of loneliness, but more the quiet that comes from a peaceful moment shared.

You enjoy the feeling, and almost don’t want to move forward. It fact, you know you don’t want to move forward. As you start to sink into the silky calmness, a jolt like and electric shock runs through the arm that is holding the shield. You open your eyes in a flash and see a brightly lit spot flaring like a roman candle in front of you.

What do you do?

They ran towards the sound of their friend’s distressed voice, stopping cold when they saw Achernar chained to the end of the intestine like tunnel, shackled by her ankles to the wall. She was swinging her sword around violently, as if there were a hoard of enemies attacking her, but nothing was in the room save for herself, Myos, Amaya, and Zeke.

Amaya tried to carefully walk toward her, but jumped back in surprise when the deadly blade came slicing her way. It was as if Achernar was lost in some delusion, unaware that her friends had come for her.

“It must be the memories, like what was happening to me,” Amaya said, looking between Myos and Zeke. “It must be the shackles; we have to get them off of her.”

“You just saw what happens when we get close,” Zeke retorted, turning his nose up in the air. “We can’t get close enough to unlock them, she’ll kill us.”

“Well, we can’t just leave her there,” Myos sighed, running fingers through his bangs as he thought. “What else can we do? Maybe talk to her?”

Zeke rolled his eyes at the idea but turned to the rage filled woman anyway. “Achernar, it’s us. Stop swinging that thing around and just let us help you,” he called, taking a step forward only to get the blade pointed at his throat.

“I don’t need your help. Stay away,” Achernar growled, voice deadly and serious. Her muscles were tensed like someone that has hardened to battle, no emotion showing across her face other than sheer hatred. “I don’t need anyone’s help.”

“We’re not saying you need our help,” Myos supplied, stepping beside Zeke. “But we want to help you. You’re our friend.”

“I don’t have any friends,” she spat venomously, narrowing her piercing ruby eyes.

“We’re all friends, remember?” Amaya jumped in, making it hard for Achernar to decide where she wanted to point her weapon. “Our stars prove that.”

“The stars have done nothing but let me down. They don’t grant wishes and they don’t grant peace, all they do is keep you up at night,” Achernar growled, wanting to lunge forward but the silver shackles thankfully kept her back. The only thing keeping her from slicing their heads off was the one thing that was making her insane.

“You’re right. Stars don’t do anything,” Zeke deadpanned, pulling off his iconic thumb ring much to the other two’s confusion. “That’s why you make a future for yourself.” He took a step forward, letting the sharp metal clash violently against his suit. He was safe, for now. The harder metal of the armor kept the weapon at bay, but with as much skill as she had developed with that thing it wouldn’t last long. “You carve out your own path. Isn’t that what you said?” Another step, the chainsaw buzzing to life this time as she swung and connected again, the ravenette wincing as he felt the air whooshing around the blade from inside his suit. It was a deep cut and he couldn’t handle another one. “So stop letting these things control you.” With one fell swoop, the dynamic rifle blade he conjured sliced clean through the imprisoning shackles and the sword clattered out of Achernar’s hand.

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