Gotta hand it to Erin though. That bitch had to have this last mission be the most fucked one without telling them. Everyone was blind as shit except him.
Looking down at his body, moving felt weird. Weird in the way that it was like watching his body move while pressing buttons. Basically a puppet at this point.
Slapping his own face, he saw his hand connect and his vision recoil, but he felt nothing. The only little bit of sensation was that he knew his head changed directions, and that he almost lost his balance from the recoil. He must've hit himself pretty hard. Balance and sensation were a check.
Other than that though, the luxury bullshit was about as fun as talking to a finance bro down at Bay Street. Rich assholes always had to make things complicated. Normal people would just make this defense hall a standard defense hall where shit tries to kill them. At least that way, he'd have some fun shooting up a whole lobby.
Time to check on others. Looking to his right, Ollie swayed on his feet. The man managed to get up compared to the others still stumbling. His head turned randomly, facing towards probably what he was hearing.
Kyle walked over. Not a feeling on his feet, just the sensation of movement as if he was floating as he got closer to Ollie. Waving his hands in front of Ollie's face, the man looked like he saw nothing even though his eyes were wide open.
Not even a flinch.
Time to get scientific about this clusterfuck. Kyle lifted his right leg and kicked Ollie square in the shin, hard enough that it should've doubled him over.
No reaction. Not a twitch.
Kyle snapped his fingers next to Ollie's ear. The reaction was instant as Ollie's head jerked towards the sound. Figures. His sense was hearing after all.
A poke to Ollie's chest, hard, then harder. No reaction at all. This time, Kyle planted both palms onto his chest and shoved.
Ollie fell backwards, hitting his back on the floor. He tried to get up, clumsily, but managed to do so. There was no expression on his face that signalled there was any sense of touch or pain at all.
Kyle grabbed Ollie's arm and lifted it up, then let go. The arm dropped limply. He tried again, this time positioning Ollie's arm out straight and placing it on his own shoulder. When he let go, Ollie's arm stayed there for a moment before sliding off.
Another test. Kyle took Ollie by the shoulders and physically rotated his entire body ninety degrees to the left. Ollie's head turned frantically as if confused by the unexpected movement. So he could feel his internal body position, just not external stimuli.
Fuck. This was gonna be harder than he thought. The others were most likely just as messed as Ollie and they basically got a hundred years to figure this out. Truth was, they ain't lasting in this shithole for more than 7 days. Awakened were a different breed of constant burning of calories.
Kyle looked around the room again. Three bells hung from the ceiling on iron chains. From where he originally stood from left to right, the order was brass, crystal, iron. The order probably meant something. This whole puzzle was about order. Another sick joke of the rich. Thematically, it was following rules and laws.
He turned back to Ollie, snapping his fingers. Three quick, three slow snaps, and then three quick snaps. Dah-dah-dah dit-dit-dit dah-dah-dah. In other words, S-O-S in Morse code.
Standard Aur training. Can't even begin a beginner rift run without being fluent in Morse code. dah-dah-dah dah-dit-dah. Morse for O-K, Ollie signed.
Guess this shit will work. Looking at Rachel, the only thing uncertain was her. She had taste. How the fuck was he supposed to communicate with taste on morse. Gotta try regardless.
Kyle went over to Rachel, who had eventually ended up licking the floor. Somehow, she had a crazy face going on, satisfied at learning how to learn what taste can offer her. That's probably what she thought anyways. He didn't want any part of that obsession she got going.
Where the fuck is this? Clyde thought.
That was Clyde's voice in their super duper secret twin telepathy highway. Crystal clear too. Fortunately, this innate ability of theirs was still working. Not sure how he was even going to Morse a nose.
We're in a fucking white room. I'm trying to establish a comms method with the rest of the team. I might've had to pick your nose and do Morse code if we didn't have twin telepathy. Kyle thought.
Fuck you, Kyle. You ain't touching my nose. Clyde thought.
You think I want to touch your nose? I saw you sniffing twinkies before. Kyle thought.
What's your point? I'd fucking sniff it again if you didn't stop me. Clyde thought.
Do it in front of the team. I dare you. Kyle thought.
You think I won't? I WOULD. Clyde thought.
No. You know what, shut the fuck up. We're in a life and death situation right now. Need to figure out this shit. Gotta communicate to Rachel somehow. Kyle thought.
Try fingering her mouth. Clyde thought.
Fuck dude, I think I might actually have to. Kyle thought.
Kyle watched Rachel for a moment. She was still on her hands and knees, licking parts of the gold and platinum inlays and the marble that was definitely not marble.
Everyone here was on the rankings for their own specific Ether class, and Rachel was in 3rd for Resonant. Now, she was reduced to looking like the bottom of the barrel. Only Lily had somehow maintained her composure, sitting cross legged and maintaining a rhythmic breathing. She had touch, so she probably had all the necessary functions to have actually good motor functions.
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Moving over to Rachel, he grabbed her shoulders, pulling her up from the floor. He flipped her over and saw her face twist in confusion at what the hell had just happened to her body.
Good that she actually knows that there's something happening. Problem was, she couldn't see, hear, or feel anything other than with her tongue.
Fuck. How was he supposed to communicate through taste alone? Sticking his fingers into her mouth would probably call for him to be suspended for a month if she ever complained to the Path. Or worse, Ann Family prison cell.
Word of mouth was, even Wang almost lost his mind at the food they served there. He never said what, but... he didn't want to find out.
If he tried sticking his fingers in her mouth, she'd probably bite them clean off too. Then he wouldn't be able to shoot his own pistol. That was the only thing he looked forward to at every case Jonathan put them up for.
But wait. Taste wasn't just about the tongue. People who ate for texture registered sensations through their teeth too. Maybe he could tap messages on her teeth without losing any digits in the process.
Kyle carefully moved his hand toward Rachel's face, trying to close her mouth first. She'd stopped licking, but her mouth hung slightly open, tongue occasionally darting out like she was trying to taste the air for information.
He gently pressed her jaw closed, then tried to part her lips with his fingers to access her teeth for some Morse code tapping.
Big fucking mistake.
Rachel's face contorted with rage. Before Kyle could process what was happening, he was already flying through the air like he'd been hit by a wrecking ball. He hit the floor and crumpled, a good five metres from where he'd started.
Meanwhile, Rachel had gone full on crazy. She launched herself in the direction she thought she launched the perpetrator. Her fist pounded on the floor, shaking the general area and causing Clyde and Ollie to stumble. Each impact sent spiderweb cracks through the fancy stone, bits of platinum inlay popping loose like shrapnel.
Holy shit, Kyle thought.
What the fuck did you do? Clyde thought.
Tried to Morse code her teeth. Bad idea.
No shit. She's going to bring the whole place down.
Kyle picked himself up, feeling no pain from the wrecking ball of a fist that he had just accepted. Rachel continued her rampage, crawling forward occasionally to pummel a new section of floor. Her face had twisted even more with anger from having something touch her mouth non-consensually.
This was definitely not going to work.
A new approach was needed. Her guard needed to be lowered first before she could accept something touching her mouth. And looking at Clyde's jacket pocket, that idiot had accidentally brought something useful into this mess. Hopefully, a sweet offering was enough to get her consent.
Issue now was that the idiot protected the twinkie more fiercely than most men protected their balls. The guy would sacrifice his left nut to protect his vault of Twinkies, and that's not a joke. Clyde had taken a live grenade that fell into the Twinkie section of a bad shootout and threw it back.
The fact was, the Twinkie was the golden ticket right now.
Hey Clyde, Kyle thought, already moving towards him. I'm taking one of your twinkies
Clyde's head snapped to Kyle's direction so fast that it looked like it only took 1 frame.
The fuck you are, Clyde's hands already hugging his own torso to protect the Twinkie in his pocket. Those are my emergency rations.
It IS an emergency, dumbass. I need to calm down the taste-only psycho before she brings down the ceiling on all of us.
Use your own shit. Clyde backed away, hunching slightly like a feral animal protecting its kill. None of you bothered to buy your own before the rescue the grinch operation.
FUCK IT. LET GO. Kyle rammed into Clyde's body, trying to take the twinkie from his jacket pocket.
They have a shelf life of forever. And they're MINE. Clyde's arms flailed around uselessly. Without the sensation of touch and all the other senses, he was basically a waddling seal.
The twins toppled onto the floor. Kyle almost had it. He couldn't feel the wrapper, but he could damn well see where it was, and it was almost in his hands. With one swipe of his hands, he snatched it and stood up.
YOU MOTHERFUCKER! Clyde thought.
Greater good, asshole. Mission critical.
THAT'S FROM MY 2053 LIMITED EDITION! THEY DISCONTINUED THAT RECIPE.
Kyle ignored the stupidity that he just heard. It was basically already 2070. This idiot had kept this twinkie for 17 years.
Looking back at Rachel, her rampage continued, methodically destroying sections of the floor with each punch and sending shockwaves that could only be felt with his stumbling balance. Each hit exposed more of the golden etchings beneath the surface of the marble that was not marble. Probably some kind of artificed circuitry that ran all over the sectors, except this one was etched in gold.
Kyle kept his distance. One of these days, she'll run out of rage, not stamina. She basically had infinite of that.
Three minutes passed.
Then five.
Finally, her movements slowed. Her shoulder relaxed as she lowered herself back to the floor. She moved her head to the broken parts of the floor and the golden etchings, tongue licking through the floor. Somehow, her expression shifted to more interest, clearly tasting the difference between the unbroken and broken surfaces.
Time to do this shit.
Kyle approached slowly and carefully as he unwrapped the Twinkie. The bright yellow sponge cake looked pristine. Vintage 2053 edition? This thing looked like it was just bought yesterday. One of these days, he'll expose Hostess for being a witch-owned enterprise and bring it to justice.
Flipping Rachel back to face upwards, her face contorted again in confusion. He slowly put the twinkie in front of her mouth, touching her lips with it.
Rachel froze. She opened her mouth and then put her tongue out, making contact with the twinkie. Her non-seeing eyes widened instantly.
The confusion on her face instantly disappeared, replaced by her opening her mouth wider to take a bite of the twinkie.
She looked like a kid, eating with her cheeks puffed out from the too big of a bite of the twinkie. One more bite, and the twinkie was gone. She smiled as some of the cake crumbs were still on her face, but she probably didn't know that.
She likes your Twinkies, Kyle thought.
I don't care. That was a collector's item. I'll never forget this betrayal, Kyle. Never.
It's a fucking cake, not your kidney.
I'd rather sell my kidneys than give away a 2053 vintage twinkie.
Kyle turned his attention back to Rachel, who was now sitting contentedly, perfectly calm. He slowly raised his hand toward her face, placing a single finger against her lips. She flinched initially, body tensing, but she didn't attack.
Good sign. That's progress.
He carefully parted her lips, taking note of the clenched teeth. Probably won't allow him to go further than just the teeth.
Kyle gently tapped his finger against her front teeth. Three quick taps. Three slow taps. Three quick taps.
S-O-S.
Rachel raised her hand in response. She opened and closed her palm in a pattern. Dah-dah-dah dah-dit-dah.
That was the O-K. She understood what was happening.
Kyle left Rachel sitting there and moved toward Lily. Unlike the others, she hadn't panicked or gone exploring. She sat cross-legged on the floor, composed and waiting, like she was just killing time at a boring briefing.
He tapped her shoulder lightly. She turned her head in his direction.
Kyle always did like Lily's no-bullshit efficiency. She had that grind mentality that all the other Yorkville rich assholes knew nothing about. He couldn't blame Rachel for defending her mouth, but damn she took long.
Had to waste time fetching a vintage twinkie from a twinkie nut. Lily presented no drama at all. In fact, she was probably the only normal person in the 6 man team in this rift run, including himself.
Without warning, Lily stood up. Both her hands raised which made Kyle flinch, expecting some witchcraft bullshittery. However, her hands moved. Sign language was also part of Aur standard training.
Kyle, you asshole. What the fuck are we doing? Lily signed.
Kyle tapped a response onto her shoulder in Morse code.
The cursing really necessary?
Lily's face remained impassive, but her hands flew into motion again.
Just get on with it.
White room. 4 platforms. Sequential puzzle. I direct. Communicate like this. Ready?
Lily nodded.