Something about the way Landel had said that had a chilling finality to it. And if he was picking them off... Lloyd thought back uneasily to just how few people he'd seen around the Institute today. They were running out of time. How much time did they have before there weren't enough people left to fight?
He didn't know. He didn't know, but he knew that their plans had to change. They couldn't afford to sit in the archive tonight digging for coordinates. With that thought in mind, Lloyd dove for his closet almost the instant the nurse closed the door. It hadn't escaped his attention that he'd been brought to a different room. Had they moved his things with him? Had they discovered his weapons? His supplies?
It was all there, though. Lloyd heaved a breath of relief. Ignoring his dinner (ugh, spaghetti), he quickly collected his things and changed. His clothes from home, his tool belt, his lamp, his sword, his...
Wait.
Lloyd stilled when he pushed aside some of his things and found a sword he recognized, a sword he shouldn't have. It was the sword he'd seen Kratos carry at night. With it was a little bottle of oil and a piece of paper, a note, that looked like it had been handled a lot. The teen's breath caught, his heart pounding. Kratos's sword. Why would it be here?
He couldn't keep from reaching for the note, no matter how much his gut was filling with dread. There had to be a good explanation. One that didn't- that wasn't- He unfolded the paper, not sure what to expect.
He wasn't expecting what he got. It wasn't from Kratos. It was from...
'We haven't forgotten about you - Nigel especially. He keeps bugging me about when you’re going to come home.'
'I miss you a lot too, Kurtis.'
'Sometimes, when I wake up, I still expect to look over and see you right next to me.'
He read the letter. He read it again. The pieces didn't want to fit. His mind didn't want to accept it. This was a letter... This was a letter from... His hand tightened on the paper. It was suddenly hard to breathe.
Mom? It was a lie. He knew it had to be. Another one of the lies Landel tried to convince him was real. He should ignore it. Wad it up. Shove it into the trash. He knew what he should do.
But he couldn't tear his eyes away. It was a lie, but... could it have been...? If things were different...?
Suddenly, in that moment, Lloyd realized that Kratos must have had his hands on this first. He must have known it wasn't real, had told Lloyd not to believe the lies, but the letter was still here, still obviously well read. He must have felt...
...the same. A lie he wished was real. A lie that hurt so much because they knew the truth. Lloyd swallowed.
I shouldn't have this.
More than just the fact that his mother was dead, that he couldn't ever get a letter like this, it was the fact that this was something Kratos wouldn't have shared with him. Kratos wouldn't share a lie like this, especially not one so personal. It shouldn't be in his closet. He shouldn't have Kratos's sword.
Cold, unreasoning fear suddenly gripped Lloyd's heart. As soon as the doors opened for the night, he was off like a shot with barely a word to Claude. Something was wrong. He had to find his dad!
M3
Something about the way Landel had said that had a chilling finality to it. And if he was picking them off... Lloyd thought back uneasily to just how few people he'd seen around the Institute today. They were running out of time. How much time did they have before there weren't enough people left to fight?
He didn't know. He didn't know, but he knew that their plans had to change. They couldn't afford to sit in the archive tonight digging for coordinates. With that thought in mind, Lloyd dove for his closet almost the instant the nurse closed the door. It hadn't escaped his attention that he'd been brought to a different room. Had they moved his things with him? Had they discovered his weapons? His supplies?
It was all there, though. Lloyd heaved a breath of relief. Ignoring his dinner (ugh, spaghetti), he quickly collected his things and changed. His clothes from home, his tool belt, his lamp, his sword, his...
Wait.
Lloyd stilled when he pushed aside some of his things and found a sword he recognized, a sword he shouldn't have. It was the sword he'd seen Kratos carry at night. With it was a little bottle of oil and a piece of paper, a note, that looked like it had been handled a lot. The teen's breath caught, his heart pounding. Kratos's sword. Why would it be here?
He couldn't keep from reaching for the note, no matter how much his gut was filling with dread. There had to be a good explanation. One that didn't- that wasn't- He unfolded the paper, not sure what to expect.
He wasn't expecting what he got. It wasn't from Kratos. It was from...
'We haven't forgotten about you - Nigel especially. He keeps bugging me about when you’re going to come home.'
'I miss you a lot too, Kurtis.'
'Sometimes, when I wake up, I still expect to look over and see you right next to me.'
He read the letter. He read it again. The pieces didn't want to fit. His mind didn't want to accept it. This was a letter... This was a letter from... His hand tightened on the paper. It was suddenly hard to breathe.
Mom? It was a lie. He knew it had to be. Another one of the lies Landel tried to convince him was real. He should ignore it. Wad it up. Shove it into the trash. He knew what he should do.
But he couldn't tear his eyes away. It was a lie, but... could it have been...? If things were different...?
Suddenly, in that moment, Lloyd realized that Kratos must have had his hands on this first. He must have known it wasn't real, had told Lloyd not to believe the lies, but the letter was still here, still obviously well read. He must have felt...
...the same. A lie he wished was real. A lie that hurt so much because they knew the truth. Lloyd swallowed.
I shouldn't have this.
More than just the fact that his mother was dead, that he couldn't ever get a letter like this, it was the fact that this was something Kratos wouldn't have shared with him. Kratos wouldn't share a lie like this, especially not one so personal. It shouldn't be in his closet. He shouldn't have Kratos's sword.
Cold, unreasoning fear suddenly gripped Lloyd's heart. As soon as the doors opened for the night, he was off like a shot with barely a word to Claude. Something was wrong. He had to find his dad!
[To here.]