damned_institute | Nighshift 23: Entry Room

Nothing jumped out at him as he stepped inside, nor did it feel like there was anything lurking in the shadows. Then again, the institute defied all logic, which meant that something could appear out of nowhere at any second.

It couldn't be this easy, could it? Something had to attack, in an attempt to keep them inside.

He cast a glance at the two files rooms. They could force the locks open and search for their folders, but he doubted there would be much of interest in them. At this point, he was eager to see what laid behind that door...

He crossed the room.

Riza was not at all eased by the quiet and emptiness of the room. The void merely suggested apprehension, a sensation she was not at all fond of. She didn't like to have to worry about what could not be predicted or planned for, but such was their situation.

And the colonel seemed to agree that there was no point in speculating about or even acknowledging the state of the room. If something was there, waiting for them to advance, then it was better to draw it out.

As he went ahead, she noted the doors in the room so that she might have some idea of where something or someone might come at them. Her attention never completely left him, however, and as he approached the door she remained several feet behind him and a little to the side. It was never a good idea to remain directly in front of a door of unknown purpose or consequence.

Though it was still turned off, her hand gripped the heavy flashlight that hung from her wrist.

And then the silence was pierced; by a single, resonating note, low and long and echoing - too deep and far too long to be held by any singer, but unmistakably a voice, distorted.

Softly, another voice joined - a tenor, singing an empty, hymnlike melody. The air charged, electric and sticky, as if the music itself carried a charge and current. More voices joined, sopranos and altos and baritones, burning their way through the song, mournful and timeless and worshipful to something meaningless, distorted and unnatural and strangely beautiful. The music was a long slow needle in the back of the mind, invading, anaesthetising, numbing and soothing and yet painful, and as it became louder and broader and hit its crescendo, it seemed as if the walls themselves were crying.

There was only one singer, but he had blotted over his own image in the minds of the two soldiers, and expected to receive no applause and no standing ovation. As long as the song continued, he needed none. Only their terror...

Just as Roy had been reaching for the keys, the noise cut in. It was enough to make him jump and spin around, eyes darting for any sign of danger. But there was nothing, just the noise, the song.

He paused, glancing at Hawkeye as if she would know the reason behind the strange music. He had never encountered anything like this at the institute before, and that made him even more concerned.

As the tune picked up, it almost started to hurt, causing his ears to ring. And yet there was something about it that disarmed him as well...

Body tense and anticipating just about anything, he continued to scan the room. "What's... going on?" He never liked asking that sort of question - it insinuated that he was in a state of confusion and a position of vulnerability.

She couldn't detect where the sound was coming from, if it could even be called a mere sound now. The steady increase in volume and the apparent absence of limit brought her within a few breaths of panicking. She'd already backed herself into a wall, hitting it before she even realized she was moving.

"I don't know, sir!" she answered, and though she thought she must have shouted it over the din, she could barely even hear the words.

She brought the heels of her hands to her ears, but it did no good, and searching the room with wide and almost frantic eyes once again returned no result, no clue.

But she hadn't lost it yet. "Open the door, sir!" she shouted again, but there was a good chance it wasn't even heard.

The angry, hot notes of the woman's cries fitted beautifully with the music. And it filled his own mind with the peace needed to violate himself so horribly, to become something as filthy as that beautiful wreched woman soldier, to take her over and dominate her and see through her eyes -

He eased his own consciousness into hers, hunting for a thread of memory. Of emotion. He felt the connection between her and Roy, all that past between them. She would give her life for him...would she?

There was one way to find out for sure.

He stripped away the layers of paint he had used to cover himself in their minds, and spread his arms wide, hovering at ease a metre above the floor.

"Such confusion!" he crowed. "Why? Do you expect things here to follow the pattern of everything you've seen before? This game is organic! Expect a lot of new blood to descend upon you soon. If all goes well, four people you will recognise will be among them." He paused. "Including the one who Erin begged for so dearly - that mad bomber. She's too madly in love with him to even think about rejecting that application, wouldn't you think?"

He paused, and turned his face towards Roy. "Court!" he addressed him, breath hissing through the mask, "You know me. You know my world and my powers! You begged publicly, making quite a fool of yourself, for something to arrive to torture him. You're just like every other human since the dawn of Time." He pointed a long, naked finger at Roy's single Homunculus eye. "You love seeing people suffer. You love to make them suffer. You feel a desire to...to toy with the idea of suffering. Isn't that why we have stories? To play with thoughts, filled with pain?!"

His fists clenched, and he turned to face Riza.

"Woman," he addressed her. "Another of your kind is torturing the other half of my mind as we speak. I have no idea who you really are, and for your sake - and your sake alone - I will introduce myself."

He spread his arms wide. "I am Psycho Mantis, the greatest and most skilled practitioner of psychokinesis and telepathy in this or any other world! And I have been sent here, to this very room, to feed you suffering. Make no mistake - no silly little port-switching cheat will save you from me this time."

It wasn't helping to see his most together subordinate losing it, but Roy wasn't in the best state of mind, either. He had been trained to anticipate all sorts of things, but this was not one of them.

He would not let a fear of the unknown get to him, though. While he could barely hear what Hawkeye was saying, he was at least able to read "door" on her lips. Just as he had once again been returning to the task at hand, the one that must have been behind the music showed himself.

Floating, and... he didn't seem human. Too thin, a body like that wouldn't even be able to support itself. And that mask...

As he (it?) started to speak, Roy focused, attempting to follow his words. He wasn't sure why he was even bothering - it was probably in his best interest to ignore the ramblings. But the fact that the stranger had brought to light that this wasn't normal for them bothered him. And while he had no idea who Erin was, the only mad bomber he would have recognized...

"Kimbley?" he barked, his previously confused expression becoming more of a frown now. When the figure turned to address him directly, he found that he was being called by yet another name. As if having two wasn't already enough...

None of it made any sense, and it seemed as if he wasn't even the one being spoken to, despite the fact that the being was facing him, couldn't be talking to anyone but him. "What are you...?"

But his attention was on Riza now, and Roy felt a surge of protectiveness rise up in him. He didn't like the way this enigma was speaking to her - there was so much obvious disgust there, and he could tell he wouldn't hesitate to hurt her. He might even enjoy it.

Telepathy? So he could read their minds? If possible, Roy become even more tense after hearing that. He didn't want anyone in his head, and especially not someone who was making him so uneasy. He considered attacking, but he couldn't waste his energy until he was absolutely sure that this... Psycho Mantis was going to hurt them.

He might just talk at them all night, after all. He seemed to enjoy hearing himself speak (as distorted and unreal as his voice was), which could be used to their advantage.

Though their situation was now becoming more perilous, Riza could not help but feel some physical relief from the cessation of the frightening cacophony. At least now, the danger was not driving itself directly to some primal center of the brain, where her reasoning and her discipline couldn't dilute it.

Even if their assailant wasn't standing on any support she could see, and even though his appearance suggested this to be more of a nightmare, at least he was no longer in her head.

But as he spoke, she found herself to be mistaken. She couldn't fully grasp just what this thing was, even after his confident introduction, but she understood that his abilities probably didn't lie in the physical realm at all. As for all he had said before that, the only response her mind could give was the same as the colonel's: Kimbley was coming here? How would this thing know?

She pushed herself from the wall to stand straight. She wasn't about to approach the thing, but she could at least take it like a soldier. But she made no answer, even after being addressed so enigmatically, conceding to the leadership of the colonel and making note of the distance between them.

Mantis let out a shrill, rasping laugh, coughing and barking through the gas mask.

"Do you honestly believe you might even begin to understand what I am?" he cackled, extending his arms smoothly towards the woman. "And to answer your unspoken question - " he turned his head towards Roy - "and your spoken question, yes."

He gasped a little, and spoke with almost an overtone of sorrow. "I can read many, many futures. Tomorrow is a quantum existence - only in observing it will it become anything. My futures have been uncertain in the past. I have failed to foresee many of the most unlikely events. Including my own death." His voice instantly returned to its usual tone. "But what does that matter?! I am almost sure of the shape our tomorrow will take. I see it now." He pointed his arm sternly at Roy. "Kimbley will arrive, and you will pick out his face from a number of others in the room. Your reunion will be short, and unhappy. Erin, of course, will continue babbling about it like the witless, empty being her kind always is. And that," he concluded, a little softer, "is all I can see."

He raised his shoulders, and his long, dangling legs lifted another few feet from the floor; his arms spread out at his sides in an almost benevolent way, like a statue of an emaciated angel.

He spoke no words; instead, crawled his consciousness inch by inch into the woman's mind. She'd heard his music, and she'd suffered at its sound. Her mind was prepared to be entered, warm and willing and disgustingly enticing. He let his own thoughts run over hers like waves breaking on a shore, soft and gentle and quiet.

He has saved you, woman. He has saved you in every possible way he could. You respect him. You are devoted to him. It's easy to show how devoted you are.

With the faintest gasp, he hid his own image from the pair again. He would need to concentrate if he were to take over this woman's mind.

It didn't make sense. This man (had to be male, bone structure and musculature, as deteriorated as it was, made it obvious) looked so weak, to the point that Mustang felt if he grabbed his wrist and squeezed hard enough, the bone would splinter. Yet there was something undeniably intimidating about him despite that. It must have been that mystery he was pointing out, the way he spoke as if he was above everyone as figuratively as he was literally.

Usually that high-and-mighty attitude didn't bother the colonel - he'd had to deal with it enough from his superiors, the people he had to play nice to if he hoped to get another promotion. But this was different...

He was looking down on them for being humans, for striving to win a game, as he said...

It was all far too unsettling. Roy didn't remember that last time someone's laughter had made him shudder.

Futures? Did that mean Psycho Mantis (what did that even mean?) knew how this ended? He could read minds as well as see the future? How could one being have that much power?

Too many questions. Maybe he really was more than human.

The minute he disappeared, Roy was spinning around, searching him out and preparing to snap if he found himself being surprise attacked.

Riza couldn't immediately notice that his image had disappeared, but by the time she did, she knew he wasn't gone. The pain in her head superseded all other thoughts. She gasped, though managed to silence the cry of surprised agony in her throat, her hand reaching back to the wall again to keep her balance.

"Sir," she forced out, "I think he's--"

But what? What was he doing? The words she had just heard, they were addressed to her, but they hadn't been spoken. And despite their tone, she could feel the menace in it. Easy to show . . .

She tried to find the colonel, to see if the same was happening to him, but she couldn't focus. Her vision was broken by flashing, pulsing pain that eclipsed the room around her.

But that wasn't all. Now and again, among the pulses were incongruous images of the room, of the two of them in it. The view was nearer to the ceiling than they were.

She didn't know what it meant, or if she were right, but all she could do was point, her other hand helplessly gripping the side of her head as she again leaned into the wall.

Mantis gazed at the world through Riza's eyes. Sight was a fine thing, and it was all too easy to miss. With colour, Riza's world was so much brighter. What did she do to deserve her own vision?

He continued whispering to her, meaningless nothings, as he rooted around in her mind to the keys to take her and steal her, make her a worthless automaton. And she would turn on Roy, and he would be powerless for fear of hurting her...

The statement wasn't finished, and Roy immediately could tell that his subordinate was in pain. As hard as Hawkeye tried, some missions did go wrong, and as a result he had seen her sustain injuries before.

But there was nothing present that could be hurting her, which could only mean that the pain was internal. What was that Psycho Mantis doing to her?

Fueled by rage and concern, he grit his teeth and balled his fists. "What is it? What's wrong?" If he didn't know what was going on, how could he help her? He hated feeling useless like this!

He was so tied up with Riza that he didn't even notice that another group had joined them.

Both hands how gripped the sides of her head as though trying to keep it in one piece, the pain and the pressure threatening to split it. She leaned heavily into the wall again, the movement jarring another tremor of agony from her, her sense of balance fleeing her with her dignity on its heels.

She heard the colonel's words only because their tone was so different from the slithering whispers she couldn't shut out. Why did she have to be the weakness? She was there to help him; it wasn't the other way around, it should never be the other way around.

The voice in her head . . . it all meant nothing, she could make no sense of it, but she couldn't help but listen to it, couldn't stop her desperate mind from flitting from one syllable to the next, leaving little room for rationality. But even as she finally squeezed her eyes shut, she could still see the room among the bursts of light. It was that thing's perspective.

She pointed again, gasping out a message and only hoping she was putting the words in the right order. "He's there, sir! Please stop him!"

"Please stop him!"

The effort Riza made to shout was the final burst which allowed Mantis to finally take control away from her, and he felt a triumph as the last of her defences had cracked away. It was the same triumph that Emmerich scientist once had when he broke into a computer system. The same triumph that despicable soldier once had the second he eluded the guard and slid in where no-one could see him, entering the complex.

She was a strong one, but he was prepared for resistance. After all, what woman could evade him? They had one purpose, and it required no intellectual strength. It was almost funny...to see all those women doctors and women soldiers and women scientists, when the sole reason evolution had birthed them was need to breed, breed, breed -

He decided to make Riza stand.

"" he said, moving her lips. "" He shook her beautiful horrible head. "" He relaxed her posture. ""

And a salute would be the lid on that little toy soldier performance, wouldn't it?

He stretched her arm out and snapped it to her forehead.

Before Roy could think about what he was doing, he was already going for the lighter. There was no space for hesitation anymore. The telepath was going to burn, if he had anything to say about it.

Just as he was preparing to snap in the direction Hawkeye had indicated, eying the array he had carved into the back of his hand and preparing for it to light up with alchemical energy, she stopped him.

He relaxed, but just slightly, and turned to face his subordinate. The pain seemed to have left her, but instead her expression was shockingly blank.

And while Riza had a very clipped tone, he could tell it was not her speaking. Something was undoubtedly off, even if an effort for authenticity was being made.

Psycho Mantis was still doing something to her, but this was even more chilling than the pain she had just been put through. "What are you doing to her?" he snarled under his breath, eyes narrowed.

The sudden absence of pain was startling, confusing, but such a deep relief that she worried it might take the strength out of her knees more effectively than the pain itself. But before she could stand herself straight again, she found she'd already done it, and before she could speak, she heard her own voice, delivered from her own mouth.

She wasn't in control. She couldn't speak for herself, nor silence the lies he was making her say. The violation was deep and terrifying, and she could only witness with muted panic that her commander was responding to her false words. He was relaxing; he thought it was over.

No, no, no!

The colonel's very trust in her was about to turn against him. She saw his face as he turned to look at her, dreading that she might be made to act against him, dreading that he might for one second think these actions were her own, and would not defend himself . . .

But, as a rare, small miracle, when he spoke it was not to her, not in confidence, but to the foe who was manipulating her.

The colonel knew. He knew, and while he was still in danger, at least he would see it coming. He could stop her. And for once, she was only too thankful not to have a gun in her hand.

You're a fighter, aren't you? he whispered to her, holding onto her with all his might.

He commanded her to smile at Roy.

"" he said, in her voice. ""

Despite the calmness of Riza's voice, he was nervous. If Roy realised what was happening, then he may have to resort to more desperate tactics.

That smile wasn't her smile. For one thing, she barely ever allowed herself to smile, and when she did, she really meant it. It was for something important, not simply a gesture to be accompanied with a status report.

He was not just trying to scare them. While Roy could not claim to understand what was going on by any means, he knew that much. There was no answer to his earlier question, so he doubted asking any more would help him.

Where had Mantis gotten to? Roy closed his eyes, wondering if he could sense... But no, there was nothing.

"Show yourself. If you're as powerful as you claim, then you should have no need to hide!" If nothing else, this sort of tactic might work...

You're a fighter, aren't you?

She was supposed to be. She was supposed to be strong and independent and steadfast. But this was the second time that she'd lost her own control in this place, though the first time had been more sinister, possibly more deadly. What was the weakness in her? Why couldn't she fend them off?

He was using her to speak again, to communicate with her commander, but she couldn't feel where he had a hold of her. She didn't know where to push to thrust him out of her. But the colonel still wouldn't fall for it.

You won't have him that easily.

She tried moving her own body, tried to force it to step back, anything to know she could resist him, but it was as though the connection between her mind and her body had been severed. She was helpless, and that was the worst feeling in the world for Riza.

Mantis cried with surprise in Riza's voice as he felt the muscles in her stomach clench. She was resisting, and yet she was suffering. It was always more fun when they resisted.

He crept his own smile up her lips.

"" he addressed him, spreading his arms wide. "" He crowed a little in satisfaction. ""

He moved in close to him, letting her hands run up Roy's chest, gently holding the end of his jaw, fingertips resting against his cheekbones.

"" he said. ""

He knew all the answers already; written out in his mind. It was just more fun making him say them.

"" he said, pressing her beautiful healthy disgusting body against his, ""

He laughed.

"" he advised. "."

It was a valid question. If she had been taken over without Psycho Mantis having introduced himself first, would he have even known something was wrong? And yet he wanted to believe that yes, he would have. He knew Hawkeye better than most, but at the same time...

Roy knew that people started to act strangely here. This place bore down on a person, caused them to change - if not physically, then mentally. Sometimes it was only something small, trivial - even so simple as being a little more high-strung than usual. But still, it was affecting them, and he hated that.

When Riza (except it wasn't really her) started toward him, he didn't like that he felt tempted to take a step back. She was not supposed to be a threat! He tensed when she came too close, putting him into a position that didn't make any sort of sense. She would never do this!

But he was more concerned with what she was saying - or rather, what Mantis was saying through her. It was hard enough to listen to without it being in her voice. Of course he felt emotion! He wasn't a monster...

"If you can read my mind, you should now how hard I'm working so that orders like that will never be given." He was avoiding the question, but that was because he didn't even what to consider how he would answer.

But he had to face this head-on. "I won't follow orders that don't make sense." He had done it once, and he would not repeat that mistake. "I'm not mindless," he hissed. "I don't just do what I'm told."

Riza's anger, a truly rare but potent force, flared to hear the words Psycho Mantis was making her say. How dare he speak to him like that; how dare he assume such callousness of the colonel of all people; how dare he force those implications on him.

But it wasn't only that. In all the years she'd known him she'd never faced him like this, never been so close that she could smell him, never had her hands on him. She had never even dreamt it, though any other woman would have by now, regardless of the necessary boundaries. And yet that was where Psycho Mantis had put her, forcing her to exhibit the female characteristics she ignored in her daily life.

And she could only see what Psycho Mantis was directing her to see, and at this nearness, she couldn't help but take full account of the eye she wouldn't ask about . . .

No. She built her resistance again. Even if it was hopeless, she couldn't remain an idle witness while this thing used her to degrade the colonel. She found she'd been hoping he would be the one to push her away, but she couldn't leave that burden to him.

Again she tightened her resolve, harder this time, like jamming a rod into the gears of a machine.

Get out, get out, get out!

For a second, Riza's body suddenly shot up like a puppet on a jerked string, swaying limply, teetering on the end of her feet, arms hanging by her sides - the faintest gasp escaped her lungs as her head rolled back.

She was resisting, and she was good.

No!! Mantis wailed, clawing back, trying to suppress Riza. Already his vision, through her eyes, was blurring - his mind was being forced out.

So he clung, and eventually Riza shifted back into natural movements, although he was still aware of the great gust of her anger threatening to blow him away.

He tried her voice again; a thin sound came from her throat.

Shaken, he ordered her to speak again.

"" he started, still choking over her words (he had to keep control no no no no). ""

As he stepped her back, she wobbled like a drunk, no longer standing straight.

"" he gasped, ""

A sudden surge of anger dropped her knees into a sway, and he corrected her stance.

"" he continued, almost sadly. "" He extended a long, trembling finger, but had no idea himself if it was trembling because of the lack of control or because of his own anger. ""

Her spine arched violently; he gasped a little, correcting her stance again.

"" he screamed at him. "" he spluttered, Riza fighting off his vocal control, ""

The lurching of her body made Roy feel slightly sick. He wasn't certain if he had ever seen someone move in quite that way, most likely because it wasn't actually physically possible. Mantis was controlling each limb, causing her to swing around like a puppet.

He wondered if she was aware of what was happening. He hoped she wasn't, that once this was over she would open her eyes and ask what had happened. Though when Mantis explained that she was fighting back, Roy had to accept that she hadn't been that lucky. He knew she was trying her hardest, and he could only hope that she would soon be able to fight him off completely.

But then Mantis was yelling at him, accusing him (in her voice) of the destruction he had caused. This man could see into his head, see just how much he had done (secrets he kept from everyone, the Rockbells, oh hell) --

Roy tensed at the mention of his homunculus eye. Hawkeye probably already knew, but to have someone come out and say it that bluntly... He grit his teeth, not knowing how to respond to words that he couldn't deny.

For so long, that screaming had kept him up at night.

This was just a strategy of Mantis', though, to set him off guard. He wished he could fight back somehow, but the only other physical body in the room now (he had heard others, but they had been smart enough to not linger) was Hawkeye, and attacking her certainly wasn't going to do any good.

Riza was under no delusions concerning the deeds of a soldier at war. She knew what her colonel had done there, and she knew how great his wrongs had been. The orders that had been given were not grounds for absolution, and the blame could not be shifted. This was what it meant to be a soldier: not just to dirty one's hands, but to stain them.

But Colonel Mustang shouldered that responsibility as few were willing to do. He sought to right something that could never be right, but his struggle was part of the ideal, it was part of the Amestris they both wanted. And she, knowing she amounted to little on her own, chose to support him in that struggle.

Psycho Mantis could deal the colonel no insult he didn't already know. There was no need for further punishment.

Riza's anger solidified in a deep will to protect him. She was on the edge of control: though it continued to slip from her grasp, she had at least felt it again as it escaped her. And now, knowing it was possible, she reached for it again with determination, trying to fill herself and her senses to capacity so that there would be no room for the unwelcome. The accusation of the homunculus eye still rang in her memory, but there was little that could change him for her.

He tugged and pulled at her, trying to stay in control, but there was a jerk and a twist and he lost his grip - his vision blanked and his head pulsed in pain. He let out a long rasping scream, too disorientated and weakened, the sudden shock causing his invisibility to melt away. He was revealed, blind, and vulnerable, for a fraction of a second -

There he was! Roy did not hesitate this time, his hand gripping around his lighter, flicking and sparking it.

His left hand started to glow with a light that filled a good portion of the room, and then a ribbon of fire was shooting toward Mantis.

Would it hit? Or would he dodge? And how about Hawkeye? Did that mean she had beaten him out of her?

Before he could even get the chance to see if his attack hit, night ended and the ground dropped out from under him.

(())

It didn't take long for Hisoka to reach the entrance of what must have been the entry room. It was easy to find, with it being directly across from the Sun Room. Yet regardless, Hisoka froze not even halfway inside, his hair on end. The other two occupants of the room were panicking, yelling despite there being no obvious trouble, but that's not what stopped the boy in his tracks...

It was the air, which was an odd thing to say, but even though his empathy was dulled and useless he still knew when something was happening.

And right then, the air reeked of Something.

Turning to the other two, Hisoka made a gesture with his free hand, wordlessly motioning for them to make as little noise as possible. If they could, the shinigami would have liked for them to be able to get by without mishap.

With a vicious burst of white noise, the something made itself known, drawing a vague outline of itself in the mind of this shinigami.

If you want to play, join the thread above! it hissed. You know the rules of the game, don't you? And take your little friends with you! The more the merrier, after all...

When the three entered the room, Tsuzuki's gaze was instantly drawn to the other two in the room. They looked...panicked, confused. Was something going on? He couldn't really tell, but Hisoka seemed to be motioning for them to keep moving. Except that just didn't sit right with Tsuzuki.

"Hisoka...Something's wrong," Tsuzuki whispered, setting his hand lightly on his partner's shoulder to make sure he had his attention. "We can't just leave them. We have to help them... Please, Hisoka?"

Dias didn't need Kurosaki to draw his attention to the fact that something was definitely not right up ahead of them; even bringing up the rear, his senses were already warning him that something was deeply wrong and that they were walking straight towards it.

Kurosaki and Tsuzuki seemed content to stand in the doorway while they debated what to do, providing perfect silhouettes for anything hostile within the room. Dias, however, moved quickly to the side of the doorway, grip tightening on the hilt of his sword.

He didn't like what his senses were telling him. Part of him agreed with Tsuzuki; there were people in trouble inside, and as an experienced and armed fighter he had very little excuse not to at least make an attempt to drive off their attacker. But his senses were on high alert, screaming at him; it was the kind of feeling he recognized from Expel, when a particularly vicious and powerful monster was moving through the area.

It was the feeling that taking on an opponent this dangerous, alone, bordered on the suicidal, and he'd be better off heading in the opposite direction as quietly and quickly as he could. Possibly, if there were someone else armed in the vicinity...but neither Kurosaki nor Tsuzuki had weapons that he could see, and the people being attacked didn't apparently have any weapons that were doing them any good.

"We should get away from here," he hissed to the other two. "I've got a bad feeling about this. I'm not sure we'd fare any better than them." He jerked his head in the direction of the room. "You can go ahead if you want, but I don't think the files are worth fighting this opponent."

This was true mercenary behavior, and Dias didn't exactly feel great about exhibiting it. But he wasn't going to walk into significant danger - already injured - simply because these two might choose to. Not for a battle he wasn't confident of his chances in; not when Ashton was out there somewhere, possibly in trouble because Dias had gone off on this wild goose chase (they never had found Edgeworth, the only real reason Dias had been interested in going to the file room at all) rather than going with him. The thought of Ashton and his insane plans for the night had been skulking in the back of his mind all night; he'd already resolved that if he hadn't found Edgeworth by the time they made it to the file room, he'd give it up as a bad job and go find his friend instead to make sure he was all right. With a highly risky but avoidable fight facing him, now seemed like a good time.

He'd prefer if he could talk Kurosaki and Tsuzuki out of doing anything stupid, but ultimately it was their decision. If they chose to take the risk, it wasn't his responsibility anymore.

Hisoka glanced from the two arguing to the room itself, anxious and uneasy with the atmosphere that permeated the room. They were so close, damn it! But Dias was right, Hisoka didn't expect they'd do any damage to whatever could cause this with only a metal bar, a sword and perhaps a few pens.

That didn't quench Hisoka's want of getting a hold of his file though, he wanted to know what was going on and the folder-- or whatever it was in-- would help. The boy was torn.

"And exactly what do you plan to do?!" Hisoka hissed at Tsuzuki, following Dias' example by moving out of the doorframe and dragging Tsuzuki with him to prevent them from being noticed. If possible.

Tsuzuki recoiled a bit from both the hissing and being dragged. "I don't know..." he admitted, but there was a bit of desperation in his voice. He wanted to help...He just didn't know how, and that was always a frustrating feeling.

He glanced over at the two strangers once again. Well, they seemed to be ok. Whatever had been wrong earlier, they looked like they were just talking now... Maybe they were ok?

"Sorry..." Tsuzuki knew Hisoka wanted to find those files. It was important for some reason, and here he was sidetracking already. He looked at the little rooms on either side of the room they were in. "Are those the file rooms?"

Dias noted the change of atmosphere in the room as well and relaxed somewhat; apparently whatever had been attacking the people within was gone, which absolved him of any responsibility he might have to step in. He didn't allow himself to get too comfortable, however; after all, whatever their attacker had been, they didn't know where he'd gone.

In all honesty, Dias didn't need much reason to give up on the file room. Between his being convinced that the files wouldn't do them much good and his increasingly-difficult-to-deny concern for Ashton, he was aware that he was practically looking for an excuse to disengage from this mess before it got any worse. He could only hope that wherever Edgeworth was, the man was all right and his inability to find him hadn't cost Edgeworth anything.

It was actually a little unsettling how concerned Dias was about Ashton; granted, Ashton was the only other person from Expel in the institute - his one link back to a past ~~and to his sanity~~ that he'd actually been beginning to question - and he'd known the man was walking into a potentially dangerous situation. But Ashton was a good enough fighter to defend himself, and people who knew the danger and went in anyway...he'd left such fighters to their own devices before without a second thought. And how quickly he'd become attached to, and concerned for, someone he'd barely known the name of a few days ago...

He wasn't sure whether it was because Ashton was almost as innocent and gentle as Rena - while simultaneously being as tough and determined as Claude - or because Ashton's being the only other Expellian elevated the empathy between them. Whatever the case, he was getting more and more uneasy worrying about him and, in his opinion, checking on him would be far more productive than staying here.

"I'm not interested in the files," he murmured to the other two men, keeping his voice low in case the enemy they'd heard was still lurking nearby. "And since the man I was supposed to meet isn't here, I'm going to get out of here. Be careful; whatever that thing was, it could still be around."

And with that, Dias pulled away from the wall and, after a cautious look around, loped off down the hallway back the way they'd came.

[Off to here (http://community.livejournal.com/landels_damned/105623.html?view=6300311#t6300311).]

Hisoka merely nodded in return to Dias' departure, letting the other man go without a word of protest in the least. It wasn't as if the other man had been obligated to join them... He had only joined them for the sake of protecting a man who didn't even show, so what reason would the other man have to stay?

The boy shook his head and shifted his attention back to the entry room, not blind to Tsuzuki's disposition. But what could he do? He only made things worse whenever he involved himself in the idiots business...

"I believe so."

Tsuzuki frowned a bit at Dias's departure, but called after him quietly nonetheless. "You be careful, too." This wasn't the only dangerous room in the building...Tsuzuki was quite sure of that.

Looking back to Hisoka, Tsuzuki pulled his focus back to the task at hand. The files that Hisoka wanted. He could tell that Hisoka wasn't going to stop, and the other two seemed a little better than 'fine' right now, so Tsuzuki was much less worried. Not that he would have deserted Hisoka, either way.

"So, which one is it?"

Hisoka narrowed his eyes, glancing from one room to the other as if he could decide from sight alone. Ultimately, Hisoka just shook his head, he had no idea which one to choose from... He hadn't even known there was more than one of them!

He held back a sigh and shrugged. "Pick one."

Was Hisoka telling him to pick? "Umm..." Tsuzuki paused, not quite sure which one he should go with. It wasn't as if he had any better idea than Hisoka would.

In the end, he shrugged as well and pointed to the one to his right. "That one, I guess."

The boy nodded, fixing his eyes on the room as he silently measured the distance it would take to get there. Regardless of the other two's sudden calm, Hisoka still felt the skin-prickling uneasiness that permeated the room as strong as ever and he didn't like it.

The quicker they were out of the line of fire-- regardless of whatever the hell was shooting-- the better.

Gathering his courage ~~and ignoring the idea of following Dias' advice and forgetting about the files. Not happening.~~ Hisoka tightened his grip on the metal bar and slipped inside the room before breaking into a steady run for his destination.

Something still seemed to have Hisoka on edge, but Tsuzuki wasn't sure what it was. He couldn't feel anything, but that didn't mean there wasn't something there that was bothering his partner.

When Hisoka took off, Tsuzuki was hot on his heels. His biggest fear was that his partner was going to get himself into some kind of trouble, so even if he had wanted to leave, he couldn't exactly do that.

He owed it to Hisoka, after all.

Hisoka reached the door to the file room with little trouble at all. Whatever was still in the room was distracted by the other two occupants which suited the shinigami just fine. With a small glance to make sure Tsuzuki was still there, the boy reached out to turn the door knob.

It didn't budge.

Hisoka scowled, glancing around in the vain hopes of finding a key. And perhaps a map to the Head Doctor's secret location while he was at it ~~ah, the sarcasm~~.

Apparently, the door seemed to be locked, or at least that's what Tsuzuki gathered from the scowl on his partner's face. That was usually a look that Hisoka reserved for when he'd done something stupid, but this time, the door was on the receiving end and not him.

"Here, let me," Tsuzuki whispered, trying to keep it down so they wouldn't be noticed. Not that the silence was going to last for long... It really couldn't be helped, though.

Taking the door handle from Hisoka and motioning for him to step away, Tsuzuki positioned himself in front of the door, grasping the knob tightly. Putting his shoulder to the surface, he turned the knob and rammed the door in an attempt to break the lock.

Tsuzuki winced a bit from the collision, the pain running down through his arm, but he'd felt the door budge just a bit. It wasn't as sturdy as it appeared. Pulling back, he rammed it once, twice again in quick succession. This time, the door gave way on the second shove, and he stumbled through into the room.

(())

Once outside the room, Hisoka pressed himself against the wall in effort to remain unnoticed. Whatever it was that lurked in this room had obviously decided to start committing havoc again, if the sickening uneasiness was anything to go by. Hisoka didn't want to have to deal with whatever it was on top of waiting for Tsuzuki to get his ass out of the room.

Which he would.

Tsuzuki emerged from the room a less than a minute later. Not exactly right behind Hisoka, but close enough. He seemed to be breathing a little heavier than normal and his legs were torn up badly, but otherwise he was ok.

It took only a moment to spot Hisoka, and Tsuzuki felt a bit better to know he had been ok out here, despite the scene that was apparently going on now. Every fiber in his body begged to go help the two people if he could, but Hisoka was injured, which counted more in his eyes than his own injuries. And he didn't want to put the boy in danger again.

"Where's your room?" he asked quietly. They would need a place to rest and look over the file.

Before Tsuzuki arrived Hisoka had been watching the scene unfold as he strained to hear the practically nonexistent sounds of struggle from within the file room. He wasn't foolish enough to think he could help them, not if he was useless against a giant cat, but he knew a bit of what was happening. The air was roiling.

What was Tsuzuki doing?

The boy pressed a hand to his chest to slow the already sluggish bleeding, realizing only too late that the makeshift bandages around his hand would absorb the blood. Shit.

Yet before Hisoka could decide on what to do with the stained bandages Tsuzuki finally arrived and the shinigami turned his attention to his partner. His room? Tsuzuki didn't look like he'd even make it halfway. Hisoka shook his head.

"It's too far, your room is closer."

Tsuzuki was tempted to argue, but Hisoka did have a point. Even though he didn't really know where Hisoka's room was, his own was pretty close. And the less they traveled, the better.

"Alright, but stick close." He was already feeling jumpy after the feline assault. The last thing he needed was for Hisoka to leave his line of vision.

Nighshift 23: Entry Room

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((I POSTED WITH THE WRONG JOURNAL AND AM THEREFORE A BAD PERSON PLEASE DON'T HATE ME))

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