infinity zone

His lungs burned. His eyes ached.

But he could still breathe. He could still see.

He shrank into the threadbare blanket that served as his bed, still shaking from the effects of his most recent bout of experimentation. A few months ago, he would have been huddled in a corner with his older cellmate, as he was quickly wracked by fever after coming back from the tanks.

But Dolph was gone now. So were Reese, Mary, and Terres. He was the last one in the cell. On the cell block.

He had peered up and down it uneasily for countless hours before being dragged off to the contaminant tanks. Had waited restlessly, miserably, for his turn to be shackled and led to the Legacy’s bridge—to his all but untimely demise.

Walter Delques had been living on borrowed time since he was captured by Cashel the Phantom.

His father was most certainly dead now; no Ferines could have survived the intense search of the Legacy following the awakening of the Nerifes Cannon. He himself should have died long ago.

But now he was the last. They had to be torturing him, leaving him alone in his cell while they dragged away the others and emptied the entire block around him. Over half of those that had been taken were unaware of their inevitable demise, weak and delirious from the combination of experiments and drugs.

He was awfully lucid at the moment. More than he had been in ... a long time. He had lost track of how long he had been imprisoned, but enough time had elapsed that he had grown taller than Mary and Terres.

His thoughts were dispersed by the faint sound of footsteps. He drowsily opened his eyes, pushing himself up onto one elbow as the footsteps steadily grew louder. He stared at the blurry form of a soldier standing in front of his cell, tensing at the clank and shriek as the door flew open.

Then he was being approached quickly, and knelt next to.

"Can you stand?" The soldier paused, noticing the young prisoner was noisily hyperventilating. "Calm down; I'm not going to hurt you. We need to get you out of here."

Barely more than skin and bones as he was, the teenager found himself being hauled to his feet and bodily carried out of the cell. He struggled weakly, his eyes wide even as he tried to gurgle out a protest. Instead, he coughed up blood, causing the tall soldier to slow.

Even through the gloves that were standard-issue for Crusand soldiers, the glowing fingertips were visible. The chant was quick and the effect even quicker; almost instantly, Walter found himself breathing a little better. He shakily wiped the blood from his chin, looking at the soldier in confusion.

“We need to move. Someone’s going to notice you’re gone.”

“Eren... W—who are—?”

The soldier shook his head, once again picking up the younger man and carrying him out of the prison. Walter choked on the dust that kicked into his face as they reached the surface, looking around in a panic. There had to be soldiers everywhere. Were the Terrors nearby? Was Vaclav nearby? But his unlikely savior pressed on, pushing himself into a dash through the dark field and up several flights of wooden stairs.

“Can you summon your teriques?” The sudden question made Walter look up again; the soldier, winded now, was urging him to try and stand on his own feet.

“I don’t—”

Walter snapped his mouth shut when he heard a shout and tried to look back the way they came. The soldier blocked his view, bringing his attention back to him. “Can you summon your teriques?”

"I can... I can." Walter gritted his teeth, biting back a cough as he pushed himself to his feet, unsteadily stumbling to the reinforced wooden fence that surrounded the perimeter. He could barely see over it and out to an ocean -- of trees.

"I'm going to throw you over the fence. You need to get out of here. Now." And to emphasize that point, the soldier again lifted the blond, shoving him up and almost completely over the barrier.

Realizing what the tall man intended to do, Walter clutched at the wood with his shaking hands. A second later, the Crusand soldier completely pushed him over, and Walter used his arms to try and increase his forward momentum.

All the same, he found himself immediately tumbling downward, plummeting to certain death a hundred feet below. The air rushing past him made his eyes water, and it took a great deal of strength to force his arms down in and below him.

His teriques had been dormant for far too long. He shook with the effort it took to summon his inner wings, the black film flowing from his arms to form a translucent sphere around him.

And then he smashed through the treetops.

He awoke to the sound of a tree branch falling nearby.

Walter groaned quietly, looking around without lifting his head. It was still dark out, and there were still leaving fluttering to the ground -- he had blacked out for only a minute or two. His entire body ached, and he hadn't been in good condition before, but he clambered to his feet and stumbled further into the forest. It was hard to draw air through his damaged lungs, to put one foot in front of the other when all he wanted to do was collapse on the forest floor.

But he couldn't get caught. Not now. He was the only survivor in a prison that had once held over 500 Ferines.

And not far behind him, he could hear the prison gates opening as dozens of guards poured out. They were fast, and they would be thorough, too. Walter grimaced in pain as he leaned against a tree further away from his crash site, again looking around.

He could hear water in the distance. Water.

His steps gained purpose. Desperate and anxious, he pushed himself towards the sound, relief filling him as he arrived before the rushing stream.

The current was strong. The river was deep. The soldiers wouldn't be able to scour it effectively, and even if they did, he would be swept away as soon as he dove in.

Walter didn't give it anymore thought. He jumped in, not even bothering to hold his breath as he went under. Before long, not even his glowing blue hair was visible.