In an unfamiliar place, Maxwell groaned as he slowly pushed himself upright, his entire body aching with a dull, throbbing pain. His blue hair fell messily over his eyes as he held his head, trying to make sense of his surroundings. His memories were hazy, like trying to grasp smoke.
"Ugh... where am I?" he muttered, his voice hoarse. Everything felt off, his limbs heavy, his thoughts sluggish.
Blinking against the dim lighting, he surveyed the room. It was small and unfamiliar, the walls bare except for a flickering light overhead. A metal table sat in the corner, and the air smelled faintly of smoke and something metallic.
"Hello? Anybody here?" Maxwell called out, his voice echoing in the silence. No response.
Then, like a floodgate opening, the events leading up to his blackout rushed back into his mind. The fight, the purple electricity, and...
"That traitor!" Maxwell snarled, his fists clenching. The realization hit him hard, he had barely dipped his toes into the dangerous world of the Brands, and now he was here, kidnapped by a man he had only just met.
Even though Richard had saved him, Maxwell couldn't shake his wariness. Why knock him out after going through all that trouble?
"If he wanted to take me out," Maxwell muttered, rubbing his sore muscles, "couldn't he have done it without all the pain?" His entire body still ached from the jolt of purple lightning.
He had never heard of someone taking down a Brand, of all things, with just a stun gun. The sheer absurdity of it gnawed at the back of his mind.
Before he could dwell on it further, a noise outside the room caught his attention. His pulse quickened. Eventually, he would have to leave and face whatever was waiting for him.
Instinctively, he checked his pockets. "Phone? Check..." He patted himself down. That was everything.
With his 'numerous' belongings secured, he exhaled sharply and pushed open the door.
Immediately, he was met with a staircase leading downward. Without much choice, he descended, each step careful and deliberate.
Unfortunately for him, the staircase led directly into a large living room, one that was very much occupied.
Scattered throughout the space were various people, chatting, playing games, and lounging around. The atmosphere was casual, almost normal, except for the unmistakable undercurrent of something more dangerous beneath the surface.
One of them, a man with sharp eyes, spotted Maxwell the moment he stepped into view. With a casual yet deliberate gesture, he pointed in Maxwell's direction.
That was all it took.
The entire room fell silent.
"Uh..." Maxwell froze mid-step on the third stair, his eyes darting across the room.
"The kid's awake," a gruff man muttered, cigar clenched between his teeth as he exhaled a cloud of smoke.
The woman beside him smacked the back of his head. "Yeah, no shit, Sherlock."
"Yo, Ricky! Get your ass out here!" a lanky man hanging upside down from a bar shouted, his voice echoing through the room.
Maxwell took a deep breath, steeling himself before finally stepping down the last few stairs.
As he reached the bottom, the woman who had smacked the smoking man stood and approached him with an easy confidence. "Name's Janet." She raised her fist for a fist bump.
Maxwell hesitated for a second too long.
Janet chuckled. "Relax, kid. We don't bite… much."
Laughter erupted around the room as several of them made exaggeratedly threatening gestures. One man started twirling a set of knives between his fingers with unsettling ease, the blades flashing under the dim light.
A door to the left swung open, and Richard stepped through. "What's up, guys?" he called casually. Then, spotting Maxwell, he paused. "Oh... hey, kid."
Maxwell immediately marched toward the only familiar face in the room. "You! Why the fu..." He caught himself, quickly scanning the room to see if anyone looked offended.
Silence.
Richard took slow, deliberate steps toward him, his previously relaxed demeanor shifting. Suddenly, he seemed taller, his presence looming over Maxwell like a shadow. The room held its breath, the air thick with tension.
'Oh shit.' Maxwell swallowed hard.
.
.
.
.
.
"Hahahaha! Hahahaha!!"
The silence shattered as the room exploded with laughter. Richard doubled over, clutching his stomach as he howled with amusement.
Maxwell stood frozen, his face burning red as the entire room roared with laughter at his expense.
"You should've seen your face!" Richard wheezed, still laughing from the floor.
"Dude looked like he was about to keel over!" the gruff man chuckled, cigar still clenched between his fingers.
"Alright, alright, let's give the kid some room," Janet said, waving a hand to settle the group.
The laughter gradually died down, though the lanky man hanging from the bar was still chuckling to himself.
Richard pushed himself up, still grinning, and gestured for Maxwell to follow. "Come on. Let's go meet the boss."
"Wait, what?" Maxwell blinked, caught off guard, but Richard was already heading through the door, leaving him no choice but to follow.
As he hurried after him, the room erupted into laughter once again, clearly enjoying his confusion.
Maxwell followed Richard through a large but dimly lit hallway, his mind racing. The air was thick with the scent of old wood and faint traces of cigarette smoke, and something else though he couldn't place it, the walls lined with a mix of faded posters and maps, some marked with pins and scribbles.
"Seriously, man. You knock me out, dump me in some random room, and now I'm meeting your boss? You got a habit of dragging people into shady situations or am I just lucky?" Maxwell asked, quickening his pace to keep up.
As they walked down the hallway, Maxwell noticed several doors lining the walls. Most were closed, but one stood slightly ajar.
Curious, he glanced inside as they passed.
The room looked like a laboratory, cluttered with equipment and strange devices. In the center, a pink-haired girl in a white lab coat stood over a table, carefully stirring something in a glass tube.
Their eyes met.
For a moment, neither moved. Then, in a blur, the girl darted to the door and slammed it shut without a word.
Maxwell blinked, stunned, before shaking his head and hurrying after Richard.
Richard chuckled. "Bit of both."
They reached a heavy wooden door at the end of the hall. Richard knocked twice, then stepped inside without waiting for a response. Maxwell hesitated for a split second before following.
The room was larger than he expected, with a broad desk in the center, stacks of papers scattered across its surface. A few monitors lined the far wall, displaying live security feeds from different angles of the building. The air hummed with a faint buzz of electricity.
Behind the desk sat a lanky man, older than Richard, with sharp, calculating eyes and a scar running down the side of his face. He leaned back in his chair, hands clasped together as he studied Maxwell with an unreadable expression.
"So," a deep voice rumbled from beside Maxwell, making him jump. He turned sharply to see a massive man seated on a couch, arms crossed, watching him with a scrutinizing gaze. "This is the kid?"
Richard chuckled. "Yep." Then, with a smirk, he gestured toward the man. "Meet the boss."