Chapter Three:

His hands were clasped in front of him with thick metal shackles, his fingers clenched together as he was led by his arms down the long corridor. His expression was hard, his lips set in a grim tight line. He passed well-dressed people, slaves hanging reluctantly off their masters in near delirious drugged-out states. They led him down the hall of the Presidential Estate, the top of the capital building. His cold blue gaze flickered to them as he passed, finding himself disgusted by them all, as they equally were disgusted by him.

Rowe was a mess in more ways than one. Dressed in a dingy gray prison uniform with a number screen printed on the back, he wasn’t entirely clean to say the least. Though, being imprisoned where the sun never shown, down below the city in caverns and holes led one to be a little dirty. His once long shoulder length black hair was cut, cropped short close to his head. It had been nearly shaved, but had grown a bit since he was placed in the Third Dimension prison. He was scruffy around the chin and jaw, and it would have been longer if he had not gotten inventive with a piece of sharp shrapnel. He held his head high, his skin a shade darker than normal from soot and dirt, which only brought out the vividness in his eyes.

The hall was pristine, annoyingly white and clean, and he stuck out like a sore thumb in comparison, but not that he honestly cared. His dirty boots left chunks of dirt behind in his tracks as they came to a stop at a wide stainless door, dirtying up their pristine floor as he went. He had to smirk at that, enjoying the little things, you know. The guard to his left tapped a glowing pale blue button. The door slid open, and a sudden rattling of music flowed out. The room was dark, and crowded with people, but they cleared a path for him.

It was circular in shape and the center was open. The floor glowed and changed colors with the beat of the music. It was clear for the most part, except for a single lone dancer. There were tables with half-circle benches wrapped around them, turned to face the dance floor and he was led towards a table directly across from the door.

They let him go when he reached the table where a large man sat at the center, one arm draped across the back of the booth, the other reaching forward to grasp the greasy leg of a turkey. He smiled at Rowe, the flashing black light causing his already annoyingly pearly white teeth to glow. “Well, good afternoon Rowe Blackwell,” he greeted cordially, shifting his hand to the wine glass and bringing it to his lips. “Please, sit.” Rowe was shoved into the booth and he rested his bound hands on the table top, his eyes glaring sternly at Roshaud. “You don’t seem very happy. Have you not enjoyed your stay in our penal system?”

Rowe’s eyes glanced to the crowd. “Oh, it was not so bad,” he replied sourly. “Is Ahriman ever coming to claim me, or have you even told him I’m here? How long has it been anyway? I’ve lost count of the days.”

“It’s been nearly two weeks, I believe. But, he is coming, so don’t worry, he’s arriving shortly.” Roshaud explained, tilting the glass to his lips once again. Roshaud’s eyes watched the dancer for a while, and then he tilted his head, motioning for one of his aides to come to him. He whispered something to them, and then the aid scurried off.

The room was filled with annoying music; at least it was annoying to Rowe. He’d much rather have the symphonic sounds of his home world than the strange electronic drumming of this one. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a slender figure draped in a cloak and hood being lead onto the stage as the dancer was tugged off by the collar around her neck. The figure was positioned in the center, the glowing floor’s color shifting to a dull red. Smoke was thick in the air from the cigarettes and cigars of the patrons to Roshaud’s hall. It misted around in the room like a living entity.

Rowe turned his attention from the figure to the empty plate in front of him. He looked to all the food that was spread out on the table, and to the fact that there were enough glasses for four people, and plates as well. He was expecting one more person, besides Ahriman.

“Isn’t she lovely?” Roshuad mused to himself, resting a greasy hand on his chest for the moment. “I do love the Second and all the glorious things it provides us with. For instance, beautiful entertainment.” He motioned towards the figure when Rowe did not turn his attention to her. One of her escorts reached up and drew back the hood. Curly stands of dark red hair spilled out from under it and over her shoulders. The cloak was taken from her, revealing the scantily clad garment beneath. Rowe’s jaw shifted into a tight clench at what his eyes found. She stood without-as much as a fearful glance. Her eyes were downcast, like a good little servant girl. She wore a costume, as did many of the dancers and servants that were paraded around the room.

She wore knee high shiny black leather boots that really didn’t have much of a heel to them, more like modified combat boots. Her skirt was considerably short, with a ruffled train down the back, trimmed in lace. It too was black, with hints of limb green tool woven into the ruffles. She wore a corset brazier-like top that was pulled taunt and came to the bottom of her ribcage. It was a mixture of that same shiny leather trimmed in green, with black sleeves that were short and ruffled around the edges.

She didn’t glance his way, not once. He felt a sudden rage consume him at her idiocy. To pose as a slave to get close to him, to even risk her life to come here and save him. How could she be so foolish, and it angered him that she had been so. He glanced to Roshaud suddenly; wondering if the president knew just who he had in his clutches. He wondered if this is why his attention had been directed to her.

The music started playing again. She simply stood there, looking as if she didn’t know what to do. “Dance,” the president of the Third ordered, yet Satine stood there, motionless.

“It seems the new slave needs some motivation,” he muttered, nodding to one of his aids.

Rowe stiffened, shifting in his seat slightly. He had seen what would happen to slaves who were disobedient, and he would blow her cover to keep that from happening. But, there was no need to motivate her; she took a safe step back from them, and slowly began to shift to the beat of the music when her eyes flickered to the movement of the aid. Roshaud lifted a hand to stop him, his beady black eyes watching the thin lithe form as she swayed to the steady slow rhythm of the music.

Rowe felt the burning rage growing in him, and he felt that it was probably a good thing that he had no powers on this world, because he might have done something rash at the moment. He turned his eyes downward as he thought of any possible way to get them out of the mess, more so now that Satine had decided to throw herself in it with him.

“She is quite lovely,” Roshaud repeated as he watched Satine dance, and it disgusted Rowe to no end. “I never met her mother, but I suspect she looks more like her, than her father. He wasn’t the most attractive man, now was he?”

Rowe’s eyes flickered to the President, so he did know who Satine was… And he was just playing along with her? He opened his mouth to say something to Satine, to warn her to run, but someone tapped him on the shoulder with the front of a pistol. “Ah,” Roshaud smirked. “Let’s not spoil this. Enjoy the show…”

Rowe ground his teeth together, his crystal gaze set hard. “I’ll kill you,” he hissed.

“I believe you’ll try,” Roshaud admitted.

An aid came to Roshaud again, but did not bother bending to address him privately. He announced it to where anyone listening would hear. “Lord Ahriman has arrived, he’ll be here shortly.”

Roshaud nodded with a grin, turning his lecherous gaze back to the woman.

With every movement of her hips the fabric train shifted with her. She seemed to be making her way closer to the edge of the dance floor, and it made Rowe unbelievably nervous, even more nervous now that Ahriman was on his way. She needed to leave. Escape. Run, something besides dance her way into Arhiman’s arms. Satine seemed to have heard what was said, for the moment Ahriman’s name was mentioned her movements faltered. Now she moved fluidly, quickly, pivoting and spinning around the dance floor. It was beautiful, Rowe had to admit this, but just as he was captivated with it, so were the others in the room, and in that he lost all love for it. He was mad at her for doing something stupid, like dancing for instance, when the one enemy of the world was coming to claim her and destroy it all.

The door in the back opened, and there was a flash of white as the hall light spilled in. Then, the light was gone, and a figure began to move through the crowd. They stepped out of his way, just as they would anywhere. Ahriman didn’t need to announce his presence, and even here where there was no magic or no feeling, Satine knew when he had entered the room just by how quite the crowd had gotten. She stumbled into the crowd where a muscled guard was standing, and she ripped the gun from his holster, before spinning beautifully back to the dance floor as a figure was emerging from the midst of people. She spun right into him, and he reached out a hand to keep her from bouncing off of him. He caught her by the waist, and felt something cold and metallic press against his forehead. He was holding her close to him, but she was leaning as far away as she could, the barrel of a gun pressed to his forehead. His eyes met Satine’s as he glanced away from the gun. He hadn’t expected that, and even more so, he hadn’t expected to bump into her. He was used to feeling her presence, but here he felt nothing. It was strange, and as much as he used to be unsure of whether he liked it or not, at the moment he missed it.

“You wouldn’t-”

Click.

Ahriman blinked. She would. She had actually pulled the trigger. However, she’d forgotten to check the safety on these futuristic weapons, and the energy had never built up to fire. The sudden realization that he had nearly died was lost in the knowledge that he had actually pissed her off that much. He smirked almost proud, as he reached up with one hand and grabbed the barrel of the gun, pulling it away from his forehead. He leaned in with a brilliant smile. “Apparently you would. Next time, dear, when you visit a world, make sure you know how to use their technology.” He snatched it from her fingers with one swift and painfully hard tug.

“Shall we sit?” he asked politely, not really giving her much of a choice as he angled the gun into her side and gripped her arm with his other hand. She didn’t believe he’d shoot her, but then again she wouldn’t put it past him to wound her, and she couldn’t afford to be wounded at the moment. So she allowed him to lead her to the booth, and he shoved her into the seat next to him. Now, sadly, she was seated between two equally bothersome people. Roshaud to her right, Ahriman to her left.

“Have you done as I asked?” Ahriman questioned, his dark eyes glancing to Roshaud. It was the first thing he said when he sat down. Not a hello or how have you been, nothing but a question.

Roshaud laughed blurrily. “In that much of hurry to get off my world, Ahriman?”

“I’m in no hurry, but the sooner off your world the better. No offense,” he muttered.

Roshaud simply smiled for what seemed like forever before replying in a breath, “They’ll be locked away within a few hours. It’s hard to get them rounded up you know.”

“A few hours is fine,” Ahriman told him.

Roshaud then turned his eyes to Satine, who sat stiffly next to Ahriman, but just to spite him she had slid further in Roshaud’s direction to put distance between them.

Satine made eye contact with Rowe for the first time, and there was so much she wanted to tell him. However, now was definitely not the time or place to do so.

Roshaud licked the food from his lips and reached out with a greasy hand to run it up the length of Satine’s exposed thigh. Her eyes widened to the size of quarters and she grabbed his hand, trying to shove it away. He laughed, amused, and was persistent until she spit in his face.

It wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but it gained the desired reaction at first, for his hand was immediately removed from where it had been attempting to go. He wiped the spit from his face and looked at his hand before rearing back to strike her. She saw this coming, and could only imagine what a hand that size would feel like. For, Satine, who had received her share of beatings in the past, knew well what hits she could take… and which ones she couldn’t.

She slid back in the seat, heading for the exit, and ended up sliding back against something warm, solid, and unmoving. Roshaud halted his hit when an arm wrapped in black fabric draped casually across her shoulder, pointing the barrel of a gun at him. She could feel Ahriman’s breath close to her face as he was peeking over her other shoulder at Roshaud, who was left to take in the scene. Rowe had risen to his feet in the course of the seconds that this had all taken place. He’d nearly come across the table, both his bound hands holding the sharp edge of a broken wine glass. But, he’d been caught by the shoulders and pulled back away from Roshaud.

However, no one dared to stop Ahriman… and to Satine that spoke volumes. Even here, on a world without magic, people revered him.

“You must be some lover to unite mortal enemies in the single cause of protecting you.”

“I assure you,” Rowe hissed as he was forced to sit. “It is for two very different reasons.”

Satine glanced at him and then down at Ahriman’s hand, which was wrapped around hers. Had he meant to run with her if need be? It was almost a reassuring gesture, but she knew him better than that. He had to be up to something.

Ahriman eased back, but did not lower his weapon. “I am not above killing you, Roshaud, if you so much as even flinch a movement in her direction again.”

“Really?” he asked. “And sacrifice what you need?”

Ahriman smiled brilliantly and sat the gun back down beside him. “Everything I need is right here. You are simply giving me the other piece of the puzzle, and are going to be rewarded handsomely. Just keep reminding yourself of that.”

Satine slowly slid away from Ahriman, but now sat closer to him than she’d really like to. She hadn’t even noticed how quite it had gotten until the music slowly started back and Roshaud transitioned back into his party mode.

So Ahriman had made a deal with an obvious enemy and that told Satine a number of things. One, he might not admit he was in a hurry, but he was clearly desperate.

“Why don’t we let these two catch up while we discuss the arrangement?” Ahriman asked him.

Roshaud smirked. “Alright.”

Ahriman slipped from the booth, pulling the gun with him in one hand, his hand slipping around her arm. She struggled at first, her hand sweeping across the table and knocking a couple of things over. Then, when her fingers had found what they sought, she slipped her hand down and under the table, hiding it away in her clothing.

Ahriman gave a swift tug and she was lifted to her feet like so much paper. “Come now, be a lady,” he told her with a smile. His face was the same expression it had always been, but a twinge of something else. Something a little more human than usual. Could it be, this world without magic was drowning out his more demonic side?

Nah.

Satine had to admit how frighteningly different it was not to be able to feel his presence, his very spirit floating around the room like something living, caressing her skin. The guards came and took hold of her. “See you both within the hour,” he told them as they were taken away.

Rowe remained cooperative and placid, and it bothered Satine. Usually he was jumping and tearing into things with anger. Seething, smoldering, something… Instead his eyes were cold and set in an even, almost bored gaze. There were many things that bothered her about that, it was almost frighteningly calm. And, then they were led away.

The people in the crowed sneered at them, laughed in their face as they passed. Rowe didn’t even glance behind him as he often did. Going down the hall was even worst when it came to the sneers, but they were mostly directed at Rowe, and she guessed it had something to do with what he was wearing.

It felt like it took them forever to reach the temporary holding ward for the newly captured or convicted inmates. The code was typed into the door frame, and she watched his every gesture carefully, repeating the numbers in her head. Rowe was shoved into the annoyingly cold room first after being un-cuffed, and then there was a moment’s hesitation where Satine thought maybe they’d be separated. However, she too was pushed into the four by five room. It was cramped and more than likely made for one person to wait a long period of time, but she didn’t want to be separated from him. The whole point of getting caught was to get close to him.

It was a hard shove, and she stumbled into Rowe, who wrapped his hands around her bare waist to steady her. Then, the door slid shut with a hiss, and they were finally alone.

Satine’s eyes flickered up to Rowe when his hands squeezed her waist as if making sure he wasn’t dreaming. When she looked back at him she saw blue eyes, which while bright and intense, did not hold their usual electric current. His hair was short, and if she did not know every angle of his face, she might not have been able to recognize him.

Her hand glided up from his dirty face to slide across the top and back of his head. She could have counted on her fingers the number of things she’d wanted to tell him a while ago and suddenly was at a loss for words.

“Rowe,” she said his name in a breathless whisper.

“Why?” he asked her suddenly before she could continue. She could tell he was angry and he was trying to hold it back. “Why are you so foolish? Have you any idea what you have done?!” his hand slip from her around her waist. “You walked right into his hands, Satine!”

“You don’t think I know that?” she asked him quickly. “I’d rather walk into his hands than leave you to rot on this world!”

“Satine!” he was raising his voice louder now. “I don’t matter that much. Our world is at stake here. Our universe! And, you are the only thing going to stop him!”

“Who says?” she asked him angrily. “The Prophetess? Some golden woman that only appears when people are in states of delirium? Rowe, by the prophecy I am not the Balancer. She said they would find you. You found me, Rowe. You found me.”

“It has to be you!” he bellowed.

“Why? Why does it have to be me?”

“Because… if it is not you, there is no future. Not for me. Not for any of us. If it is not you, then we have no other. No one to prepare in time. It has to be you.”

“Or you… couldn’t it be you? Metaphorically speaking, you found yourself in that dungeon. You found a new man.”

He scowled at her, turning his head away. “If we want to talk crazy, we could just call Ahriman the Balancer. He found me.”

“See, that’s the problem with prophecy. It is all crazy. Every bit of it. We are relying on a ghost to tell us how our future should go.”

“Even if you weren’t the Balancer, you should have never come here. You should have never let yourself get caught, especially by Roshaud, but even more so, by Ahriman. He’s not human. He believes you are the Balancer, and for that he has dark things planned. You are a threat to him, and he’ll illuminate that threat.”

“He would have a long time ago if he really saw me as that much of a threat. You are a threat to him also, and he doesn’t even try to kill you Rowe. He could have executed you for treason, yet he tried to force you to be a monster. If anyone should be worried about the way he treats them it should be you.” Satine told him fiercely.

There was silence now, Rowe turned to look over his shoulder at her, watching her shiver in the cold. “Then, if there was nothing to worry about, why did you do this? Why did you come for me? You risk too much for me!”

“Damn it, Rowe!” Satine’s hands clenched into fists at her sides. “Stop acting like you are the only one allowed too risk your life. Stop being so stubborn. Stop acting like no matter what you do you still deserve to be punished for the past! With all the good you’ve done you’ve paid off your debt. So please… stop wanting to die.” The last words were a faint whisper, and tears had welled in her eyes. Even to this day she didn’t know the depths of Rowe’s darkness. But, she knew one thing, he thought he deserved death for whatever he had done, and for as long as she had known him he’d down anything and everything death defying and dangerous that came close. Too close.

Rowe blinked at her words, cringing at the sight of her tears, and his mouth opened to speak, but words failed him.

“I do not want to die,” he finally managed.

She wouldn’t look at him, so he cupped her chin in his hand and tilted her face up to him. “Satine..”

He was calm again. His anger melded away at the sign of tears. Damn, his softening heart, but he did not want to see her cry. “You have every right to be a stubborn headstrong woman. But, all I ask is that you try to keep yourself alive more than any other. I can’t… won’t lose you. That would be the death of me.”

“I’ll be fine,” she reassured him. “He doesn’t want me dead.”

“What he could want with you might be worse than death,” Rowe replied, smoothing her hair behind one ear. “Why did you come here, this way?”

“Oh, believe me. I exhausted every possible resource. I connected ties with my adopted father’s enemies. I bargained with government scientists, saved a family in exchange for information, and dove out of a fourteen story window to try and get here. In the end I had two choices. This, or kneel before Ahriman. I’d rather be taken as a slave than kneel willingly before Ahriman to get you back.”

Rowe smiled softly. “Good to know. I’d rather you not do anything at all… but if you must do something, surrender better never be an option.”

“Agreed,” she muttered, leaning into the warmth of his body, chill bumps coursing over her as she finally began to realize just how cold the cell was. His arms circled around her, and he held her tight.

“When they come for us…”

“Rowe…”

“Listen to me.” He stopped her. “When they come for us, when I tell you too, close your eyes.”

“Why do you say that?” she asked him, the edge of fear in her voice.

“No matter what you hear. No matter what, if I tell you to close your eyes, you do it.” His face was very serious as he looked at her. So serious that it frightened her.

Satine nodded, tilting her head towards the door as it slid open. She had expected to see Ahriman behind it, but instead saw only guards, grinning a little too happy for her liking.

They ordered them out, and at first she was reluctant. “Go on,” Rowe urged her. He’d been through this routine already, and knew not to be difficult. She slowly stepped out, and they cuffed her quickly, holding her arms tightly. Rowe was next, and he didn’t struggle, quite unusual for him. Satine didn’t like this at all, and didn’t like it even more because of what he’d told her.

They were led for what seemed like forever, and the further they went the more corroded their surroundings got, until they were walking down a long narrow rusted hall, the grating beneath their feet groaning as they went. It wasn’t the most sterile looking environment, and it made Satine grow even more uneasy. She wanted, no… needed to know why Rowe had told her such a thing. Then, they came to their destination, and it was an open door way with slick clear thick plastic hanging in front of it. The guards pushed it aside and lead them into a dark room with a single light hanging over two metal chairs that were positioned facing each other. Satine was made to sit across from Rowe, their arms bound to the armrests, feet to the legs of the chair.

She swallowed hard as their eyes met. It was hard to see anything passed the light swinging above them, but Rowe gave her a reassuring nod… that didn’t reassure her at all. The sound of something squeaking closer and closer put her nerves on edge, and suddenly an older man dressed in shiny white plastic wheeled a metal cart between them. Satine and Rowe’s eyes found the table top, and the rubber band with a syringe filled with an almost luminescent green liquid all draped across a sheet of off-white gauze.

Now, she was really worried, fearful in fact. She couldn’t take her eyes off it, wondering exactly what it did.

“Satine,” Rowe called to her. “Hey, Satine… look at me.”

Torture. The word suddenly sprouted in her mind, and realization pulled the veil from her eyes. Of course Rowe was making it a point to keep her calm. He’d experienced torture himself, and had dealt it to his share of people under the influence of her father. He was trying to keep her calm before they started, trying not to let her panic so soon. However, would keeping her calm truly help her deal with whatever devious thing they had planned to do to them? Her eyes met his, and she stared at him, her jaw working out the words she wanted to say.

“You’ll have to forgive me,” a familiar voice called to them from the darkness. “But, this atmosphere suits my purpose best.” Ahriman stepped out of the light and it reflected in a blaze off of his stark white hair.

“A little over dramatic, don’t you think?” Rowe muttered, tilting his head towards the Dark Mage with a rather nasty glare.

“Maybe a little,” he admitted with a smile. “But, I like the rustic feel of this compared with the boring contrast of brushed steel and white paint. I guess it makes me feel more at home? Besides, we are closer to my next destination from here. You might recall it, Rowe. To my displeasure I was informed of your stay there. Trust me when I say it was never my intention to have you placed with those… maggots.”

“What do you want, Ahriman?” Satine asked him harshly.

His eyes, blood red, but hardly swirling with the intensity as usual, flickered back to her in an instant. “Oh,” he sighed out, as if he had been suddenly snatched back to some unimportant topic. “There is a matter of business that you and I need to conduct, Satine. You see, I need you to accompany me on a trip. It won’t take long, no more than forty-eight hours to reach it, but I need you to come willingly… and behave.”

“She’s not going anywhere with you,” Rowe told him quickly in a hiss.

Ahriman came to stand behind Satine, his hands draped across her shoulders. “You haven’t a choice in the matter. You see, there is a catch… and you are the catch, Rowe. This is strictly for Satine to decide.” His fingers glided over her shoulder, and Rowe’s anger flared. He pulled at his bindings harshly.

“Satine,” Rowe finally said. “Don’t agree to anything he says.”

She tilted her head to look over her shoulder, only to see the dark fabric of Ahriman’s clothing. Ahriman nodded and the man dressed in plastic came to stand next to Rowe. With all his jerking, it didn’t help Rowe one bit. The doctor, as she assumed he was, rolled the sleeve of Rowe’s shirt up until most of his forearm was exposed.

“What are you doing,” Satine asked quickly, moving to sit forward, but she could only go so far.

The doctor tied the rubber band around his arm, and Satine had been in the hospital enough to know you only did that when drawing blood. It would be counterproductive to tie it with an injection. It would only slow it down. The doctor wrinkled face tilted to the table as his gloved hand reached for the syringe. Her heart thudded in her chest, her eyes going wide. “Wait!”

He stopped, the needle having already angled towards the skin of Rowe’s arm. “Don’t hurt him.”

“Don’t, Satine!” Rowe quickly told her, but despite how strong he wanted to be, she could see the edge of fear in his eyes. Rowe didn’t understand much of Second dimension technology… He didn’t know what the syringe would do to him… The scary thing was, neither did Satine.

“Don’t hurt him,” She repeated.

“Satine,” Ahriman called her attention back to him, and he bent to where his head was level with hers. “Rowe is being injected with poison.” The doctor proceeded to jab the needle into Rowe’s arm a little harsher than was necessary. He didn’t flinch, then again… Rowe never did. His jaw was clenched tight, no doubt from anger. “It is slow acting, and takes nearly two days to run its course. That gives us enough time to go where we must… and retrieve what I need.” Satine watched numbly as the liquid disappeared, knowing now that it was running through Rowe’s veins. “I will give you the antidote if you promise that you will help me.”

“He’s lying,” Rowe hissed, his face looking pale already.

Satine glanced back to Rowe, frowning. “He’s never lied before,” she whispered.

“Very true,” Ahriman agreed, nodding his head. He stood up straight, stepping around Satine to stand on either side of them. “What he will experience is very painful, Satine. The sooner we get back, the sooner he’ll receive his antidote.”

“Satine,” Rowe whispered, shaking his head. “Please…”

“I’m going.” Satine’s jade green eyes flashed to him, and stared through him. There was no arguing. She had made up her mind.

Rowe’s jaw set tightly.

“Unlatch them. We’ll give you a moment alone together,” Ahriman told them, his face a mixture of amusement and what Rowe assumed was boredom. Rowe stayed very still and very calm as the rubber band was pulled from his arm, now allowing whatever was injected to run freely through him. When they were unlatched they both sat there for a moment, but Satine was the first to stand. She walked to Rowe, put her hands on his shoulders, but he shrugged them away, standing and shifting past her.

He stood with his back to her, rigid and unmoving. “Rowe…” Satine whispered, not quite sure what to make of his reaction.

He didn’t reply, he just stood there, and it broke her heart. “Rowe, please… Talk to me.” Then, with spider like agility he reached and grabbed up one of the metal chairs and through it into the wall. The sound was loud, and the sudden violence startled her. Even after that he didn’t budge to spare her a glance.

“What would you have me do?” she asked him angrily, tears welling in her eyes. “Watch you die a slow painful death? You cannot ask that of me!”

“I know,” he breathed.

“Then, what? What do you want me to do to save you?” she was almost pleading. He was silent again, and she was at a loss for what to tell him.

“Come on, Satine. You’ve had your moment and their ready for us.” Ahriman called from across the room.

She stood frozen, rigid, not wanting to leave Rowe with these last words. Not wanting to leave in this way.

“I’ll be back in time, Rowe. Don’t worry.” He didn’t seem keen on a good bye, so she just turned away from him. However, well before she had reached the doorway Rowe had grabbed her hand and pulled her back against him, his face buried in her hair.

“Be safe. Don’t be reckless… and I love you,” he whispered into her ear.

Ahriman tilted his head at them, a bit fascinated by their peculiar exchange of emotions. Satine turned in Rowe’s arms and framed his face with her hands, standing on the tips of her toes to kiss him. At that, Ahriman watched them only a moment longer before averting his gaze.

“If you hurt her,” Rowe growled menacingly at him, pointing a finger in the Dark Mage’s direction. He glanced to Rowe without the slightest hint of being intimidated and threw on that infamous brilliant smile.

“I assure you, there will be nothing of harm in my touch,” he admitted. “Well… at least I’ll try very hard.”

Satine slipped from the safety of Rowe’s arms, her fingers the last to leave his skin. She glanced back to him as the guards brushed past her into the room, and standing in the doorway she watched as they cuffed him. It took every bit of her to keep from running back to him, but she knew what she needed to do.

Ahriman was walking next to her as they made their way towards a light at the end of the dark rusted corridor. There was the sound of machinery in the distance, but it came in spurts of loud groans.

“Don’t I get a change of clothes?” Satine asked him as she tilted her head at his direction.

Ahriman glanced her way, as if he were observing the clothing in a new light. “I see nothing wrong with what you’re wearing,” he replied.

“Look, I agreed to go with you willingly, the least you could do is let me have some pants,” she hissed.

“I’ve seen you travel in a dress before,” he muttered, shrugging his shoulders.

She clenched her teeth. There was no arguing with him. He wouldn’t bend to her requests, so why bother?

The metallic groaning sound suddenly silenced, and the continuous buzzing of the red light against the back wall of whatever room they were about to enter was the only noise in the hall. It was a dim room, lit by four red lights centered on all four walls. The back wall had a chain-link fence that went to the ceiling separating one part of the room from a rusted rebar elevator. It was obviously for keeping something in rather than out. The elevator was rusted, decrepit; it looked barely functional… much like everything else in the room.

Roshaud was seated in a grandiose chair on wheels, and the thought of him being too large to walk hadn’t occurred to her until then. He smiled at them as they entered, motioning towards a table where there was a large pistol lying atop old steel.

“It’s perfectly charged for you,” he told Ahriman as the Dark Mage lifted it up and examined it. He then shifted to face them, moving the coat almost delicately out of the way, as if he had something to hide behind his back. He slipped the pistol away, and his eyes met the President of the Third. “They are put away… as you instructed.”

She didn’t like the smile on Roshaud’s face. It was too joyful, and she got the feeling that Ahriman liked it just about as much as she did. There was a control panel with many buttons, and one of Roshaud’s attendants leaned over, flipping a switch. The red lights turned a vibrant green, and the buzzing sound was gone. It had been coming from the fence all along, and it worried her to know that the thing was electrically charged. The attendants unlatched the gate and slid it open.

Ahriman placed his hand on her back, and she flinched away from his touch, but followed his motion towards the elevator. She stopped just outside of it, looking in with repulsion. It looked as if it would fall out from under them, and she’d already had her share of bad experiences with elevators the past couple of days.

Ahriman walked passed her and stepped into the elevator, a little too trusting for her nature, but then there was always honor among bad guys. At least, she hoped it went for more than just thieves. She stepped in with him, swallowing hard at all the bad thoughts that suddenly rushed through her head. Roshaud’s chair rolled over towards the elevator door. “Good luck,” he told them and his eyes fixated on Ahriman. “You’ll need it.”

Then, the elevator doors closed and there was a great groaning sound as they shuddered downward. Satine looked alarmed at first, but it wasn’t so bad after they got started. She looked down between the grated holes in the floor. It was pitch black bellow, and there was no telling how far they were going to go down.

Their was a dingy yellow light hanging above their heads, it swung back and forth as they went down slowly, passing lights built into the side of the wall every five feet. The silence was unnerving, and she glanced down again, knowing there was a long way to go. She saw Ahriman turn his head towards her, and she groaned on the inside as she figured he would try and start up a conversation. However, as his lips opened to let the words flow out, the elevator came to a sudden jerking and frighteningly loud stop.

Roshaud still sat poised at the edge of the elevator shaft, and at the sound of the elevator stopping, his chair sprouted anchors that curved downward and hooked into the thick grated floor’s openings. Then it wined as his large body was lifted and tilted him to where he could see down into the elevator shaft. By all means he should have been frightened, but he was very confident in his technology.

Not all were like Roshaud on the Third. While the level of people who were affected by the genetically altered food were high, Roshaud’s over consumption and indulgence had led to what he had become, and he was a poster boy for why Ahriman hated the Third so much.

The former Emperor and Empress of the First shared a glance before looking through the grated roofing. “You see, Ahriman,” Roshaud called down to them. “You should be nicer to the people you work with. You never know what situation you might find yourself in.”

Ahriman pulled the pistol from behind his back and pointed it straight up at the President of the Third. “Don’t even think about it. I’ll shoot you before you can drop us.”

Roshaud laughed. “With what?”

Ahriman’s face, so full of calm concentration and pure confidence fell in that instant, and Roshaud’s laughter only grew. “Do you honestly think I’d let you come near me again with a loaded weapon? You see Ahriman, I know what you are… and I know what you mean to do with whatever you find down there. But, I like my world the way it is. I like what we’ve become. I won’t let you destroy it. So I’m saving my world. Hell, I’m saving the universe. They can thank me later. So enjoy the trip down.”

Satine watched Ahriman’s face turn to an expression she had never seen, and she knew that if he were able to use magic, Roshaud would have been nothing but ash filtering down on their heads. Then, he was back to normal, dropping the useless weapon at his feet. He smiled, and it was a smile that despite how much she hated him, she found it very inviting. “You will not kill me so easily, Roshaud.” It was a warning, and one the President should heed.

“Oh, I already figured in your unexplainable ability to survive impossible situations. I didn’t lock the population up… so even if you survive the fall, they’ll induct you in a special way I’m sure. Either that, or the Remnants will eat you.”

And that was it. No other words of warning or gloating, the elevator dropped out from under them… and they were falling.

The wind blowing up caused their hair to beat around their heads, and she tried to hold it back with her hands. Ahriman seemed to care less. He cast a dark glare. “Don’t say a word,” he told her fiercely over the roar of wind and metal. Satine smirked. Even if she were about to die, it was nice to see Ahriman so befuddled and… beaten.

“Wasn’t going to,” she replied to him.

Then, he was turning, looking for something wildly. He found it, and when he had he climbed up the re-bar wall, he beat the side of his fist against the metal hatch until it popped open. Sparks were shooting all around as the wheels of the elevator grinded at impossible speeds. He climbed up, narrowly squeezing through the shaft and Satine caught the glimpse of something beneath his coat. “Get up here,” he yelled to her.

She glanced up before shifting to climb. “What good will getting up here do?” she hissed. “A sudden stop at the end is a sudden stop at the end, no matter where you are on the bullet.” Ahriman didn’t bother to hold down his hand like Rowe would have done, not that she would have accepted it anyway. No he seemed confident in the fact that she could do it on her own.

“Why did it have to be an elevator?” she asked herself, and Ahriman seemed to not have a clue as to what she was referring to. He was looking for something, frantic now. She had never seen the Dark Mage panic, and even though his calm persona was still there, she felt that this might be the closest to panic she’d ever see him. He found it, stooping to lift a chain with a hook and to his amazing luck, he didn’t have to unbolt it. It was lying lose and lonely on the top of the grating.

“I hope you have a plan,” she screamed, the sheer suspense of knowing there was a painful end coming, and not really able to tell when was excruciating.

He seemed to ignore her, the light that was speeding by flashing bright against his flapping hair. He was staring away from her, at the procession of rabid moving bars that she knew to be the ladder built into the shaft. He took the chain into his hand, holding the end in his grip as well as the hook.

“Ahriman?” she called to him again. “We don’t have time for this.”

“I’m counting!” he yelled back to her. His red eyes flickered back and forth as he watched the bars. He glanced down, noting the brighter light at the bottom. Then, his eyes returned to the bars. His brow furrowed with concentration. His lips moved as he muttered the numbers, “one, two, three” under his breath over and over.

“Come here,” he ordered, but Satine didn’t want to get close to him without knowing what he meant to do. “Now, or I’ll leave you to be part of the wreckage at the bottom!” He didn’t wait for her reply, or to budge. He didn’t have time for that. He reached out, tugging on the side of her waist until she spun off balance and fell against him. He wrapped an arm around her waist, and slung the hook off to the side. It caught on one of the ladder handles, and the chain snatched out of his hand. He gritted his teeth as it cut into his skin, but he held onto the end, careful to make sure that it didn’t get wrapped around his hand and cut it completely off.

The elevator kept falling, but they were jerked off the last ten feet before impact. They slammed into the wall with enough force that Ahriman almost let go of the chain. He felt his shoulder, and knew immediately that it wasn’t good. It felt like it wasn’t even in the socket anymore, but it was nothing for him to be concerned with. The elevator crumbled and shredded bellow into a heap of twisted and broken metal. Dangerous… the only thing intact was the roofing, and it laid spread across flat against metal spikes. The elevator door at the bottom leading into the prison was blown open partially, and pale light fell in a bright beam across the flat surface of the demolished elevator roof.

“Grab my wrist tight with both hands,” he told her, his voice oddly calm to her. “Now, would be an excellent time.” Satine grabbed his wrist with both her hands and he let his arm drop to his side, sending her down to the next few levels of handles. He shifted his body out of the way so she could grab them. “Grab a handle and put your feet down.” Satine grabbed a handle with one hand, and when she had her feet down she released her grip from Ahriman’s wrist.

That’s all it took, that split second where all her weight was pulling on that one faulty handle… Among a thousand other faulty handles. It broke, and she lost her footing in the shock of suddenly realizing she was falling.

Ahriman watched, his face a mixture of two emotions, both of which she didn’t understand as he reached out for her. Her fingers missed his, just brushing across the tips of them. She thought that maybe he was happy she was falling, but from the look he had when she missed is hand… it didn’t seem like he was happy at all.

Satine was fortunate not to feel the impact, the moment she hit the lights went out.