Shouts. Screaming. Gurgling..and the feeling of blood against her bare skin. Esther slumped to the floor as the soldier let her go. She had no way of moving. She had always been bound tight, movements restricted. She lifted her head at the sound of the command.

Suppress and capture.

The wilted flower on her head expanded then released a large cloud of spores, a cloud of purple that would paralyse anyone who breathed it in for a short period of time. She would obey them. She would be good.

Wind pressed against her, blowing the spores back and away from her and the other person in the cell. Warm, almost hot, like a desert wind flowing across her skin. ”My Star, please. Please.” A voice. Distorted, inhuman.

She tilted her head to the side. Star? Only one person called her that, and it was an incorporeal voice inside her head. ’Ron?’ It was difficult, and nothing but static filled her head. It hurt so she stopped trying to call out to him. This couldn’t be that same entity.

There was a sound of cracking, a guttural groan of pain. The sound of ripping, tearing, snapping. Then the voice again - human this time, more human. “I’m here, my star. Esther.” The winds now, blowing against her, were cool, a drastic difference from the hot winds that had been there moments before. And - not in her head. The voice was not in her head, but in front of her.

If she could blink, or talk or do anything aside from shuffle her body she would have. The voice in her head, the thing that kept her sane for years… was real. He was real. Esther desperately wanted to reach out to the sound. To touch whatever it was. To see, to have physical confirmation that this was real and not some drug induced illusion. ’You are real...you are here....’ then a feeling of dread quickly replaced her elation. ’Go. Leave. You cannot be here!’

’My star. I will leave this place. With you. I - I’m so sorry, Esther. I’ve been here - and I never knew you were trapped here too. I didn’t care to leave because - because I didn’t care if I was in this hell.’ His voice - it was Ronnel’s voice, the static gone. The wind was blowing closer now - and was centered on her flower, keeping any more spores at bay. She felt hands, soft, tender, delicate touches, against her skin. She heard groaning metal - and the band on her right hand was free. The manacle itself was still there, but the chain was broken. She felt a hand pry away the metal sheet that covered her eyes.

She strained. There was a dim light in the room and even that was too much. As her eyes clenched shut - that hand slid down and she felt those fingers pull away the covering over her mouth. She winced against the light then slowly opened her eyes. They were puffy and the whites bloodshot. Thick dark circles told that she rarely slept. Two coloured eyes stared up at her savior, a brilliant blue and a soft red. She blinked once. Before her knelt a silver haired man, staring at her with obvious concern in red-hued eyes.

A cough fell from dry lips then a strained voice, a whisper barely audible as she reached out to him. Her shaking fingers danced over his face and wiped tears away from his crimson gaze. “R-Ronnel?” He was warm. He was real. Esther hung her head and hiccuped. Her hands fell away to the floor, barely capable of the strength to keep them up.

“Esther. I’m so sorry. I should have come for you sooner.” He reached down and she felt him take her hand in his. “I - I should have come sooner.” The sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway.

Esther winced. [i]’They are approaching. Many of them.’[i] She barely had the strength to speak again. So instead switched to the way they had always spoken. She much preferred to hear his voice from his own trembling lips but she? She just did not have the strength. She could barely lift her arms let alone stand.

Knowing he was real was enough for her.

“Well. Then we should be gone.” His voice turned a bit harder. Certain. She felt the air get colder - then the sound of metal shrieking reached her ears. The bindings on her fell away, the chains torn. “You - can’t stand on your own. Alright.” Ronnel turned around in front of her, and she felt him take her arms and loop them around his neck. He pulled her closer. This warmth...Esther latched to it. To him. She didn’t want him to ever leave her side.

’You are taking me with you? I cannot fight. This is a detriment to your primary objective.’

“Of course I am. I don’t care if you can fight or not - I’ll be your muscle. You’re my star.” He stood up, and she was hanging on his back, his left arm tucked beneath her, holding her up. He let out a deep breath. “I am not leaving you in this hell for one more day, Esther. I have a reason to live, and to leave, now.” He began walking, ignoring the blood and the bodies on the floor.

She pressed her head into his back, her flower still sending off the paralytic spores in the air. They were caught up in the swirling, cool wind, and danced almost hypnotically around the moving duo. Never close enough to affect Ronnel - but never more than a few feet away.

“Ok.” She whispered coarsely against his skin. She shut her eyes. Moments ago she had given up. She had only ever known this place, and it was scary and horrifying to know there was a world outside that she would see and experience. A part of her wanted him to leave her behind. To leave her with what she knew but his warmth and his voice. His physical voice, it made her want to push forward.

To leave this place and to be someone more than Experiment 25.