The Leather Jacket

Although it was still midday, the sky was cloudy, set the greyish tones upon everything. Chilling wind harshly blew from different directions, as Adam could see the plastic bags and fallen leaves on the ground yanked in one direction to another violently.

He looked around at the alley's opening, hoping that his suit could capture the name of that alley, to no avail. It was unnamed. How fitting, but also sad. He entered the alley, with deliberate steps that he hoped will not give away his anxiety. It was different from last night when he didn't yet know who was the victim. Now he felt like he was walking inside the length of Aster's Temple, to give some religious offerings towards the Goddess. Or simply, a walk towards the door of a funeral house, where his father figure laid.

The same thought he had when he was at the lab last night ran through his mind again: both of his 'fathers' died in the most violent way imaginable. He was grateful that he turned alright in his opinion, but he couldn't help but wonder that it looked terribly like a fate being set by another power outside of him. He trained himself not to believe in fates, that everything in the world happened by happy coincidences, with no inherent meanings attached to them. Could this be the moment he unlearned that?

He stood in front of the building with the round brass door, now shut. Police linings set in front of it softly blinked in and out of existence, he knew it would turn red and notify the officers who set it up that there was breaking and entering. He wouldn't have that problem, since his APD issued protective suit would automatically give the wearer authorization to pass the linings.

The building was not very impressive. The walls were darkened by several years of corrosive matter running down from its roof by rain or leakage. Even the glass windows were tainted by the rot, it was impossible to see through. The only thing that remained maintained was the brass door. It looked fairly new, now that he saw it in the light. He wondered could it be really new, made as a replacement for the older door. He walked towards its hinges, finding corrosive matter printed to the walls right beside them. His suit said it was steel.

'So, they changed the steel original door with a brass one,' he thought to himself. He couldn't tell whether or not it was changed by the original owner of the building or by the terrorist group last night. If the latter was the case, what was the motive? What was the significance of the brass?

Ogrario Blocks. They were wooden, not metal.

There were no reports from Hagar and Y-0 about the situation in APD. They left him to find out about Y-14's shooting. He browsed through his helmet interface to try to find some written reports, but there were none. He could only hope that they were okay. After all this, he couldn't imagine himself to lose other people closest to him, even if they were a machine and an ex who didn't think highly of him. He felt lonely all of a sudden.

His suit found a matched shoeprint, the same one they were following in DomArt. So, the perpetrator really ran back here, but immediately turned into another victim of the same gas he was released. Without warning, a series of memories flooded back. The way Marco was smiling when he first saw him, the way he walked towards him and put his black leather jacket around him. The same leather jacket found when he died.

"Hey, stop crying," he said, "I'm your father now," he said, "sorry…," he said, "I shouldn't say that. You can cry," he said, "you can't deny your sadness. Just know I will be here for you. You will be okay now."

"Liar," Adam muttered while struggling to open his helmet. The suit disagrees with a blinking red light on the upper part of his helmet interface, saying that the air was too toxic to breathe. He cried, and there was no way to wipe the tears away because of the bloody helmet.

He pushed the brass door, peered inside, and walked in. He gently pushed the door closed and wondered at the intricacies of its locking mechanism exposed at the back of the door. He could see easily which steer to turn first, then which lever. He touched softly on its surface before turned his back on it, looking at the darkened room that was lighted gold last night. It was now grey and dull, dim with only the grey light from the outside struggling to come through. He activated his helmet's built-in flashlight, and there it was, the redness from the splatter of Marco's head, in all its glory. His body was not there anymore, it was already taken away.

"Find the clue," he could hear Marco's voice suddenly. He was sure that it was in his head, but he listened anyway. When he was a teenager, Marco always played treasure hunt with him, putting clues around the house. Most of the time he couldn't find the supposed treasure, but he managed to find some: various photos of Marco when he was still in the military, his medal of honor, and his leather jacket.

The leather jacket that was once given to Adam, only for Adam to throw back at him in a fit of rage.

"You can keep this rotten thing, Marco!" he remembered saying, "I don't owe you nothing!" he said Goddess knows how many years ago when he stormed off Marco's house. He tried to remember Marco's expression when he said that. Was it anger? Was it sadness? He couldn't remember.

"He keeps the jacket…" Adam whispered to himself.

Then something happened with his heart. It sank more deeply that he couldn't imagine. The tears flooded his vision and he couldn't wipe them off. His heart kept falling deeper and deeper, it made his knees tremble. He propped himself against the huge metal desk and slumped into one of its chairs.

"Oh…" he said, "he kept the jacket…"

He somewhat realized now how Marco cared about him so much. He tried so hard to shelter him from the dark world he was living in right now. He wasn't perfect, he had BE addiction, but he tried to stop Adam to be like Marco. Marco was a man beaten by his life choices, and caring for Adam was his way to redeem himself. He prevented Adam from going to the academy.

"Being in an army and, by extension, the police force," Marco once said, "would only do two things for you: either you would be desensitized by the constant darkness around you, and you become darkened, or you will keep your light, but always be saddened by a world without any beauty whatsoever."

Adam ignored that. He went on to become a detective and found himself in the exact situation Marco warned him about. He thought he can manage it, but his childhood memories always tinted his view of humanity, every time he worked on a case. He viewed all humanity as inherently corrupt, and he dealt with that reality with drugs, just like Marco did, and just like Marco tried all his life to prevent him from.

Adam started to cry profusely. His body was shaken as he saw the area where Marco's body was laid last night. He stared at it, hoping that he would somehow materialize, telling him 'I told you so' or consoling him, telling him to stop crying, and put around his leather jacket on Adam. It didn't happen. The urge to open his helmet was overwhelming since he couldn't see anything with his tears flooding his view. He knocked on the sides of the helmet to brute force it, while the helmet insisted to stay in place.

"No! No! Open!" Adam yelled, "I don't care if the air is toxic!!! I don't care!!!" he cried while kept on banging on the sides of it. It finally showed signs of dysfunction.

He would open his helmet. This was terrible. He could poison himself.

I need to step in!