AN: I'm sure this is complete crap, but I'm posting this thing because I'm getting sick of tinkering it. I've actually rewritten the next chapter three times already, and since I like the way the current version is going I'm going to post Chapter 1, finally. Even though I hate it. Oh well. The title for both story and chapter have nothing to do with anything. I just liked them.
Chapter 1. Remolding lives.
Miho was screaming.
Much later Amon could not recall the sound of the Factory as it collapsed around them, but for some reason Karasuma's screams still pierced his memory. Miho screamed and disappeared in the confusion of falling rubble but he couldn't afford to give her plight any thought. Robin was suddenly at his side, trying to tell him something, but he couldn't make out what she wanted over the roar of the building. Amon gritted his teeth against the burning pain in his shoulder and grabbed the girl's arm, searching desperately for a way out of the doomed building. The lights went out, plunging the world into darkness.
They were trapped. There was no way out, and no sign of Karasuma. Distantly Amon hoped that she had managed to escape, so that someone would know what had occurred down here. Dust so thick he could barely breath filled the air, filling his nose and lungs. He couldn't see her in the dark or hear her over the roar of the building, but in his grasp Robin jerked as cough after cough racked her slender frame. Hurriedly he pulled her in close and pressed the thin fabric of his shirt to both of their faces, trying to filter out the worst of the dust as he waited for their world to end. Amon felt debris hit his shoulders and knew that they had only a matter of seconds before they were crushed to death.
Sheets of flame filled the room. He couldn't see what was happening, the light was so bright he might as well have been still in darkness. The sound of the firestorm drowned out the roar of the collapsing building, a wall of sound that wasn't sound at all. The heat was incredible, all encompassing like being in the middle of the sun, but not searing. He found himself wondering what the Craft User intended to do, whether she meant to incinerate them, or save them, or if she was even thinking at all. He wondered how she could even see to use her Craft.
Overhead something broke loose, later he thought it might have been the huge cement block that had been suspended over the working part of the Factory finally crashing down to their level. All he knew at that moment was that Robin's flames had nearly been snuffed by the massive wall of something that fell on them. The sheets of flame darkened and shrank, nearly touching them. Robin cried out something in a strange language, and with a renewed roar her flames rushed upwards again, sheltering and protecting the pair. The acrid scent of burning concrete and plastic and steel, mixed with the unique spicy scent of Robin's flames, filled the air, but under it Amon thought he smelled something else. Some strange chemical that must have been used in the laboratory. His eyes watered, but whether it was from the smell, or the dust, or the heat he didn't know.
Robin continued to convulse in his grip, coughs exploding from her one after the other. He could hear her now, and even see her form dimly through the light of her flames, which seemed to pulse slightly in time with her coughs. He could feel her become almost feverishly hot in his grasp. Amon adjusted his hold, wrapping the arm of the hand that had been gripping her around her waist, trying to lend her some strength. If her flames failed or she lost control of them...
Well, he didn't want to think about that. No doubt they wouldn't live long enough to regret it.
Between coughs she was trembling violently, and he wondered just how much longer she could continue to pour out the massive display of power. He'd never seen anything quite like this out of Robin. Her past usage of the Craft had nearly always been short fire-fights with other Witches or Hunters, not one long rush of flame to divert a falling building.
As if on cue, her flame faded from its unnatural intensity and he felt her slump in his arms. The Hunter flinched, expecting at any second for the ceiling to finish its collapse and crush them both, but that didn't happen. Instead as the flames died down they revealed a cavern of steel and concrete, the surface of which had been melted by the heat of her fire. Amon was amazed at the control of her Craft that Robin displayed, they had not been burned despite the intense heat she had used to shield them. One small slip and they could have been incinerated.
He looked down at the girl in his arms. Her head lolled limply to one side and he could see that her open eyes held no awareness in them. She was completely unconscious. Amon laid her down carefully on the cavern floor. He took off his trench coat and tossed on the floor next to her, neither of them would need it in the oppressive heat. Amon paced the walls, searching for a way out of the room. The walls of the cavern were formed by massive blocks of concrete and steel that had been burned into the shape of a giant protective bubble. The air had a weird chemical smell to it that made him gag momentarily, it was, however, surprisingly free of the dust that had earlier choked him. Perhaps Robin had burned that up along with the falling debris. He searched the area, fingers probing the cracks and crevices between the blocks of rubble looking for a way out of the room, but found nothing. The air seemed fresh enough, if there hadn't have been sufficient circulation they would have suffocated as Robin's flames ate all the available oxygen.
Finally he found it, a section of cracks where the air seemed cleaner as it flowed into the room. He tried to correlate the floor plan of the Factory with the position of the cavern and thought it didn't match with the position of the main corridor. Perhaps it had been an escape tunnel for Zaizen and any scientists trapped down here when the self-destruct was triggered? If so, it was blocked by the debris, but surely it would be easier for Robin to burn through a collapsed tunnel then to burn through a solid wall of rubble. He hoped that she would be up to burning through anything when she awoke.
Robin awoke to near complete darkness. She was reminded of a story Sister Mary Francis told her, about the time the Sister took a tour at the Carlsbad Caverns as a child. The tour guide had them turn off all of their flashlights and sit in total darkness for five minuets. He then struck a match. Suddenly the entire cavern was illuminated by the light from that one match, because their eyes had fully adjusted to the dark.
This was like that.
"Amon?" she called, her voice sounding weak even to herself. Something stirred next to her and the next moment she felt a large hand touch her shoulder.
"Good," he said, "you're awake."
"Where are we?"
"In the Factory. Your flame protected us from the falling debris."
Robin shivered, she didn't remember any of that. The last thing she could recall was the Witches in the Orbo tanks begging her for death...
"The others? Karasuma-san?" she asked, fighting back tears.
"I don't know, it's possible she escaped."
"Oh," Robin decided she didn't want to think about it. There was nothing she could do if the others were hurt or dead.
Except, possibly, die herself. Hastily she pushed that thought away.
"We're trapped here," Amon said. "We need to get out before SOLOMON digs down to this level."
Her eyes widened. "You mean we aren't going to wait for rescue?"
"You trust SOLOMON? The organization that nearly killed you?"
"But Father Juliano promised that he'd call of the Hunt!"
"Do you really believe that, Robin?" She flinched at his disgusted tone of voice. "Do you really believe that the man who could order the death of his only granddaughter, whom he raised, is trust-worthy?"
"Oh," Robin rolled over to her side and curled into a ball, trying not to cry in front of Amon. The last thing she wanted was to appear weak in front of him. Everything that had happened in the last few months seemed to crash down on her head. Her Hunt, The tortured Witches. Amon. Father Juliano. She shuddered. Creation, she was a genetic construct. Clone. Artificial. Was she even human?
Maria had called her Hope.
"So what are we going to do?" she asked after a moment of silence.
"We're trapped in here." Amon replied, "but I think I found a place where an escape tunnel was. It might be easier for you burn through that than through a solid wall."
Robin's heart sank. She didn't think she was capable of using her Craft just yet. She had apparently exhausted herself already saving them from the falling building. The girl closed her eyes and wished that this was over. She was so tired...
"Robin?"
She reached out blindly and grabbed Amon's arm to pull herself up, then leaned against his right shoulder. It took more energy than it should have. Robin became aware the vast void that was her stomach. She must have used an incredible amount of energy so far that day, with more to come. "We don't have anything to eat, do we?" she asked hopefully.
"No," he said. "Why, do you need to eat?"
"It doesn't matter." She sighed.
"Jesus." He shifted around and Robin could hear his deep voice rumbling in his chest. "Do you want to rest longer?"
She shook her head. "I want to leave here," she said, groping around for her glasses.
He handed her glasses to her, then helped her to her feet, gasping once in pain. Startled, Robin turned to looked up at his face, and then remembered one of the events from earlier. "Amon? Zaizen shot you. Are you injured?"
"It's nothing."
Robin frowned in the face of his stoic disregard for his body. It seemed that they were both pushing themselves past their limits. She could only hope that they wouldn't kill themselves trying to escape.
"Here," he said, gesturing to the wall. "You can see how this section fell, it isn't a solid wall of concrete. That is why I think there was an escape tunnel for Zaizen and his scientists, one that wasn't in the main computer."
Robin nodded, and adjusted her glasses. The first tongue of flame was weak, and flickered oddly, but a moment later it steadied and thickened. It ate through the wall like a cutting torch, incinerating everything in its path. Robin could feel the strength run out of her like blood from a wound, but she held firm as her flame cut farther and farther into the tunnel. Once several meters had been burned clear Robin stepped into the tunnel, Amon a silent shadow behind her.
Robin's heels snagged repeatedly on the melted floor of the tunnel, causing her to stumble over and over despite Amon's best efforts. She shook off any attempt to slow down or stop, telling him only that they needed to keep moving. Amon didn't understand her growing obsession with trying to get out, but in a way he was relieved to see a return of her single-minded focus. He had been worried back there in the cavern when she seemed ready to give in to Solomon and Fate, rather than continue fighting. That weak girl hadn't been the Robin Sena he knew. Despite this, he was worried. She had already used her power to exhaustion once, what would happen if she did it two or three times that day? Witches could and did kill themselves by over-extending their Craft. He didn't want to see that happen to Robin.
He wasn't any better off. His shoulder burned from the bullet wound inflicted by Zaizen, and he thought he could feel the Orbo move through his veins. It weakened a Witch's power and knocked them out, and now it seemed that it drove ordinary humans insane. What, if any, effect it would have on a Seed like himself was anyone's guess. He pushed that thought aside, there wasn't anything he could do about it. Still, his shoulder burned and he had to hold to hope they would be out of this hell hole soon.
Robin stumbled yet again, and fell face first to the floor. Her flames were instantly doused. Amon reached blindly down in the darkness and yanked the girl to her feet. The heat radiating off the floor wasn't hot enough to burn through his shoes, but he hated to think what it could do to tender human skin.
"Robin," he told her. "Stop. You need to rest."
She shook her head no, but accepted his support. He could feel the girl trembling with exhaustion. "No," she said. "This place stinks of death. I don't want to be here."
"I know. I don't either." Awkwardly he brought his arms up around her slender frame. She leaned into him and Amon nearly winced to feel how thin she was. Had she always been this way? He seemed to recall Master complaining that she had lost weight last night.
"I'm tired," she murmured against his shirt.
"I know," he said softly.
"It's just that I never thought I was going to be a miner." She gave a weak laugh. "Cutting through all this rock, I mean."
He blinked at the change of subject, then decided to take advantage of it. The longer she talked, the longer she rested from using her Craft. "I don't think you would be much use in a coal mine."
"No, you're right. I would blow a coal mine sky-high."
"I don't think a coal mine would explode," he said. "You would start a fire, however. Coal mine fires can be very difficult to put out. There was one in China, I think, that burned for over four hundred years."
There was a moment of silence as pure and simple as the darkness that surrounded them. Amon could almost hear the gears turning in Robin's head.
"I'll light a fire that lasts four hundred years and more," she whispered to the darkness. "One that lasts forever." With that she pushed away from him and sent a lance of flame against the end of the tunnel, pouring her strength out like water.
After what seemed like an eternity they hit a metal wall. "Robin, stop."
The girl nodded and the flame flickered for a second before she lit a piece of wood Amon had picked up somewhere in the tunnel. Amon took the torch from her, noting with alarm the way she slumped to the ground. He placed a hand on her forehead. Her skin felt feverishly hot to him, but whether that was simply from exertion or some other cause he couldn't even begin to guess. He frowned, she'd been that way back in the cavern when she lost consciousness, perhaps the fever was natural for her when she had reached her limits.
There wasn't much he could do for her here, except to keep them both moving. The sooner they got out of this vestibule of Hell, the better.
He held the torch up to the door and examined it. The wall was exactly what his first impression of it was, solid metal, a steel alloy perhaps. It had a solid metal door that looked like it had been designed by a company that produced bank vaults or locks for a nuclear power plant. The only way to open it appeared to be a keypad. Amon wished Michael was there with them, the hacker probably would have known how to open the door without triggering an alarm or a self-destruct mechanism. Then again, Amon thought, there wasn't much Michael could do without his gadgets, he would probably be as helpless as Amon.
"Robin?" She had drawn her knees up to her chest and was resting her head on them, eyes closed. Propping the torch carefully against the wall Amon knelt next to her, wondering if she was even conscious. She slowly turned her head towards him, resting her right temple on her knee. Amon couldn't be sure in the flickering light of the torch, but it seemed to him that Robin's normally brilliant green eyes were flat and gray with exhaustion. All life seemed to have drained out of them. He cursed himself, how was it that all the women in his life ended up hurt or destroyed? First his mother and Kate, then Touko, and now Robin.
Perhaps he was cursed.
"Robin, I need you to burn through that door," he told her, hoping that she understood him. He really hoped that beyond that door was a clear tunnel. He did not think she could go on much longer. She nodded, but made no effort to get up.
"Robin."
She sighed, and closed her eyes briefly. "I'm so tired. I don't think I can stand. You'll have to carry me," she said plaintively.
Amon reached over and picked her up, cradling her like a child. She curled against his chest, trembling violently. For the first time since his mother died he sent a prayer to God, asking that He would send her enough strength to carry through. Perhaps Amon's prayer was answered, or perhaps Robin had some hidden reserve of energy. The wall went up in flames, the heat vaporizing the metal. Amon saw with relief that the hallway behind it was relatively clear, and even had emergency lighting on.
Robin made a strange animalistic noise in the back of her throat and went limp. Startled, Amon looked down to discover that she was completely still. He stared at her in shock for a few seconds, then his training took over. He stepped over the melted remnant of the wall and for the second time that day laid her on the floor. He pushed her turtleneck down, fingertips probing automatically for a pulse against her white throat. His heart froze for one long moment before he felt a faint flutter and her chest rose and fell. God, he let his head sink to the ground next to Robin's, what a day. He was shaking. Amon ground his teeth together. What the hell were they doing? He didn't know where they were going, didn't know what they were doing. Buried alive as they both were, he felt as dead as the past.
Under the glare of the emergency light of the emergency lighting Robin looked pale, a waxen effigy of a saint rather than a living, breathing person. He swallowed, she looked as bad as he felt. She was clothed from neck to toe in an outfit that was supposed to be skin tight, and wasn't. It hung unnaturally loose on her, the folds of the cloth sinking in towards her body in a way that made his gut twist with worry. Amon didn't remember her looking like that earlier. He thought back to the massive outpouring of power she had earlier displayed. Had she really lost that much weight? Anything was possible with the Craft.
He felt like hell, and she looked like shit. They needed to get out of there, and whatever they did next they needed to rest. It was clear that Robin was a powerful Witch, and it was equally clear that she had her limits. In a way he felt relieved, if she had limits then Eve of Witches or not, she was human. God forbid, he could kill her if he ever needed to. He shied away from that thought.
Robin breathed quietly, the silent movement of her chest up and down the only indication that she wasn't dead. Amon touched her skin and found that it cooled significantly. She was alive, and would continue living, at least for now. He gathered her up in his arms again, and she settled into his hold trustingly, her head resting on his uninjured shoulder. One of her odd pigtails was coming out of its ribbon, he noted.
The pools of light against the dark lulled him into a kind of trance-state. Robin, whom at first seemed so light as to be almost not there, had become a heavy weight, pulling him down. The tunnel was endless, and Amon had to fight against the notion that they had really died and where now in Hell. Thirst burned in his throat and his shoulder ached abominably. Robin hadn't moved move a muscle or made a sound since falling unconscious. Her light breath was sweet in his ear.
The passage took a sharp turn to the right, and he noted with relief that it seemed to be blocked with a door. With any luck it would lead to the outside.
The door, or rather the lock for the door, turned out to be a perfectly ordinary, if rather good lock. Amon set Robin down gratefully and took from his trench coat a lock pick kit. Lockguns were all well and good, but a real professional always kept a kit with them. Traditional picks never had dead batteries or were jammed. The lock was a tricky four-tumbler system with interesting variations that took about twenty minutes to pick.
The door swung open into a hidden one-car garage. The vehicle didn't look like much, its beat-up exterior was the perfect camouflage. He laid Robin down on the back seat, and draped his trench coat over her slender body. Amon started the engine with the keys he found in the glove compartment, and pushed the button of the garage door opener he found on the dash. Silently a door rolled up revealing early morning light. Coolly and calmly he drove out, hiding in plain sight.