CHAPTER 7 – Day 2: To-gather

"Can't sleep?" Scelestha asks, approaching me from behind.

She had worn a shirt borrowed from Rustizen.

"Just… thinking," I reply.

"Same thing," Scelestha laughs. "God, I need proper clothes."

"Will it maybe be okay to bring your clothes from your houses?"

"I don't know about the others, but not the house me and Witch were in. That place will definitely be on the red list of the Saturn Organisation, by now."

"Well, the others were also in that video though. So I think it could be dangerous for them," I say, and a realisation strikes me. "And the only video of Psyand, is of today's thing, with her saving me. So it wouldn't be hard for them to find her house."

"Yes that. The one with the least screentime will have the hardest time. Really for the best, us sticking together."

"Don't you think we have to be careful then? It still is Rustizen's house… it may be dangerous if we don't watch out."

"It's pretty late," Scelestha says, and looks at my clueless face. "I think we need to get access of the cameras," she bops her head towards a camera.

On my way here, I had seen many cameras and was worried that if anyone sees me with Witch, it could be a problem.

I simply start moving, and she tags along. We go to the control room, and a guy is sleeping at the desk, as the cameras' feed is shown through the monitors ahead of him.

Scelestha signals to me, and we go inside. We try ways to connect the feed to my cellphone, and the screen suddenly freezes.

I try clicking the buttons, but nothing works. Suddenly my phone starts ringing, and I reflexively click the side button and mute it.

The person inside must be really beat, nothing seemed to budge him.

I look at my screen, at the unknown number, whose name which was saved online, was popping up below, 'Pick the phone' it said.

I show Scelestha, and she just nods to me, and I give her a perplexed look.

I still end up picking it.

"Leave," the voice-through-the-phone says.

I don't reply, and shrug to Scelestha, after seeing her questioning face.

"You are not the only powered-individuals here. We can't let you access cameras. Leave," the voice continues.

"Baseball codes… I have been trying to be a Baseman you know. It's not fair," I say.

"Do you want Kaushik there to get up? Leave before we ourselves make that happen."

I signal to Scelestha, and we head outside, and just as we do, the call cuts. I try to call-back to the number, but it says that the number can't be reached. I sigh out loud.

I feel Scelestha's confused gaze, still on me, and so I turn to her.

"Those TBC people. You know, the ones who helped Rustizen," I say. "They don't want us to get access."

***

"There is a reason why I simply brought you all here," Rustizen says to me and Lost-Bird. "We are not the only powered individuals here! It's a… safe place for us, just relax!"

It was right in the morning, and he was sitting across the table, to us. Everyone else were in the room too, just seeing the happenings.

"Well, those TBC people will simply just have the control of it all. What if they are the villians?" I ask.

"A moment with you?" Rustizen asks me, and before I can even answer – gets up and goes to the balcony.

I look at everyone, and then go to him, closing the door behind me.

"This is not the Primevel warriors!" Rustizen yells at me.

"A bit lower maybe? Don't they teach you dragons to have a little control?" I ask.

"Look. This is Earth. Matter is different here."

"You have ZERO idea what is happening on your planet. You think we are mercenaries just going about, finding jobs? We came here to help!"

"Yeah? Why are you alone then?"

"Don't you fucking dare," I say to him. "They killed the others!"

"They killed Primevel warriors? Please," Rustizen scoffs.

"You have no idea. Trust me," I say, and Rustizen's firm-form finally quivers. "They are not playing, they have been waiting for long, to strike. And now when they have, they will just be coming hard."

"Can't you… call more? Like, higher ones. With all due respect, you guys go easy at the first run to help."

"I can't. Long story…" I sigh. "Fara had asked us for help, with these Saturn Organisation people. But still the damned authorities took it lightly. We never found the real… main lead, the centre of chaos."

"But… if TBC WAS Saturn Organisation… I'd never be put here, in a safe location. They could just have ended me," Rustizen points.

"That is a good point. But we Primevel warriors have learned it the hard way: that we can't trust in others."

"No idea about your inside-demons-of-higher-power. But these are not so," Rustizen says. "Just please… they will let us know when we are in danger, and send help, okay?"

I just scoff and go away, into the room.

No wonder, when I had entered the building sneakily the first time, yesterday, Rustizen made it look so simple and normal.

This was one place they could just blow up and be done with, at a time.

Everyone seem to have not heard even the screaming, they even had moved away into a farther room, making me search for Lost-Bird.

Lost-Bird just looks at me and we say nothing, and things are understood.

This team was sure a weird one. A human, a kid with interesting powers, a guy with experience in having powers, another guy who was suspiciously just along with things with no possible interesting things on the list for him. And then there was Lost-Bird.

The day went by for a while, until everyone realised…

"We need clothes," Psyand's mother says, rather embarrassed to say it out loud.

"Not all can wear you clothes, Rustizen," Wrap scoffs.

"Clearly wasn't gonna say that," Rustizen sighs. "And I get your point… Psyand's mother."

"We CAN'T go to your old households. Not in a smaller group. And even if bigger, we may face bigger ones," I say, sipping the chai (tea) which Psyand's mother had made.

"Long names are weird," I hear Psyand mumbling, which not many seem to hear or care for.

"We get shopping then!" Wrap hurrahs, getting up.

"Stop. Do you even know the prices?" Rustizen asks.

I see Psyand's mother accepting it, with a flinch in her pose. And Lost-Bird seems to nod too.

"I have ways. Don't worry," Wrap says.

"Ways better not get us locked up," Rustizen says.

"As if… and I'll be fine. Just leave this to me," Wrap says, and waits. "But would like if anyone tags along?"

Lost-Bird gets a call, and moves away, to pick it.

"Anyone?" Rustizen asks, and I feel his gaze on me.

"I would… but," I say and look at him. "I… have, other stuff!"

"Wow. Perfect way of rejection," Wrap says and give me thumbs up.

Wrap looks towards Rustizen and scoffs.

"What was that?"

"I'd rather ask Psyand than you," Wrap says.

"I'm not that bad of company," Psyand says.

"And I am?" Rustizen looks at Psyand. "You know what, I wouldn't come either, so nevermind."

"And Psyand clearly is-" Psyand's mother says.

"-I'll come," Lost-Bird says, entering the room.

Everyone stares at Lost-Bird, as he is perplexed.

"I… have some work," Lost-Bird says.

"You ARE our villain right?" Wrap asks.

"You are not going to your home alone. Rather, worse is putting Wrap's life in danger alongside you too," I say.

"Wow… thanks," Wrap says.

"I'm not… I really have to just… go to work. It's important. Besides, Wrap is totally strong enough, but I wouldn't endanger him, no worries."

"Guys, stop," Wrap says, shyly.

"Work… at this time?" I ask.

"I can't give the head, all the… I'm struck with superheroes and my life depends on it," Lost-Bird says.

"Hmm," I say.

And so, the two head out after a while, and when they return…

"Did you rob?" Rustizen asks.

Wrap, happily, with a wide smile, and many bags in his hands, tires out his expression at that. He simply places all the bags on the ground, and stares at Rustizen.

"Oh come on, I clearly expected a lovely mood at this," Wrap says.

"Uhuh. So did you rob or not?"

"Definitely look like it," I say, as Lost-Bird brings too many bags with him too.

"I… know places," Wrap shrugs. "Just take it. Don't even say thank you!"

"Did any of you get hurt? Please tell, than hide. We promise to not ask more into it," Psyand's mother says.

"Again; we did not rob," Wrap says.

"There was chasing though," Lost-Bird says, and everyone looks at him and then at Wrap.

"There WAS NOT ANY chasing. Of any forms."

"Yes there was."

"No! Those were just… street dogs. Chasing us. Just dogs.."

"Yeah, because their owners couldn't keep up. They LITERALLY had straps on."

"Maybe they were hurt… and hungry. Hence chasing us," Wrap shrugs.

"Time out. Can't you just say you witnessed him stealing?" I ask to Lost-Bird.

"Well, I did not. I came back from work, and met him at the place he asked me to be at. And then we got chased," Lost-Bird explains.

"See? And still didn't steal OR get chased, improperly. Except it was injustice ON us. That's a different thing."

I, and even the others, look through the bags, all the clothes, and some were even groceries, after seeing which, I see and hear Rustizen visibly gasp, and make sure it's real.

"These are… nice," I say.

"That is for Rustizen actually," Wrap says.

Rustizen looks my way, at the t-shirt I'm holding, and after a pause, he nods.

"Then for me?" I ask.

"Here," Psyand's mother says to me, and I go closer to her.

"You sure you didn't steal?" I ask, and continue before Wrap says anything. "Thank you. However you did it… I for one, am thankful."

Wrap just stays his position, with his jaw shuddering.

"Agreed. Thank you," Rustizen says.

"Thank you Mr. Wrap," Psyand says.

Lost-Bird pats on Wrap's back and comes ahead to look through the covers full of clothes too.

"I will be sure to make delicious food for you. Let me know your favourite," Psyand's mother says.

Wrap almost tears up, and Lost-Bird calms him down, so does Rustizen, while seemingly close to bursting into laughter.

"Oh and," Psyand says. "We have a little name changes."

"Name changes?" I ask.

"Oh, you missed it…" Psyand says. "Rustizen is such a long and boring name so…"

"It's not boring," Rustizen says.

"We thought of calling his as…" Psyand drags, for suspension. "Rusk."

"Rus," Rustizen corrects.

"No, Rusk is better," Psyand implies.

"No-" and the two go on and on, quarrelling. Until a winner was formed.