Revival

[Kenpachi Zaraki]

The gunslinger looked upon his handiwork, silently pleased with the new atmosphere he had willed into being. To the ignorant passerby, the place seemed to be different, though only on the surface. The torn crimson carpets had vanished, replaced instead by dingy linoleum tiling as one might find at any garden variety truck stop. Cracked fluorescent tubing above had been replaced with weak incandescent bulbs, most more prone to flickering than truly serving their purpose. The stage and the pole it had bore had also melted away, a few simple round tables popping into existence in their stead, balancing half-filled napkin dispensers and nearly empty condiment bottles. The pair of welded-shut doors had been replaced by an unremarkable wooden door, hinges rusty and loud. Broken alcohol bottles had found themselves mended, though the large variety, curiously, had shrunk to but a few odd dusty bottles of wine and low-quality liquor. The large picture window had ceased to be, the walls encroaching to fill the gap and leaving behind small cracked panes in its place. The air smelled of grease and dust in equal amounts.

No place like home. Vincent had never quite considered any one building to be his home, not at least since before his ‘second birth’. He largely considered himself a drifter, stopping at some odd inn here or there to pass the nights in solitude. It was the ambiance, rather, that spoke to his soul. Memories flickered back into his mind, nostalgia bringing back long-gone battles and restless nights. His sabatons clicked loudly upon the tiles as he crossed the room, extending a hand to tug at the pull-chain of the new neon sign the hung in the window.

7th Heaven

Satisfied with his creation, he turned to the dataverse terminal, its formerly dilapidated appearance now quite polished and usable. Though he could not manage to conjure up any mental image to rival that of the citizens on Tier-1, he figured it was more the intent that mattered when it came to creating in the Omniverse. Fitting with his relatively minimal technological expertise, the console seemed to be quite simple and user-friendly. A few taps on the touchscreen and quick keystrokes brought up the Uplink menu. All seemed to function as normal. For once, good news.

The ex-Turk could not say that he felt certain about any aspect of his half-baked plan, though all signs pointed in the direction of the Dataverse. Whatever individual who had taken it upon themselves to assault his mind had been conspicuously silent since he had awaken back at Fabre’s ‘lab’, though Vincent taking any advice from someone who had been stalking him since before even his arrival was dubious as best. As he pondered embarking, his heart skipped a beat. Nanaki.

The gunslinger pulled the communication device he had been gifted from his pocket, quickly flipping it open and finding Fabre’s contact information already entered. His gloved fingers rapidly tapped out an urgent memo to the doctor, hoping that the man checked his messages as often as he claimed. He dropped the device back into his pocket a moment later, brow furrowing as he paced the creaky floorboards. The raven-haired man had not seen or heard from the burgundy beast for over a year at this point, if the calendar on Jack’s dataverse device were to be believed. Though the ex-Turk had spent a good portion of this timespan effectively dead, he could not help but feel guilt and concern. He did not doubt the feline’s battle experience in the least; back on Gaia the one known by most as Red XIII had been among the strongest of Avalanche. This issue was this universe they had found themselves in: the smiling God seemed to quite enjoy turning things on their head.

Vincent exhaled slowly, taking one last glance at the luminous beacon before turning and making his way toward the staircase in the far corner. He would wait for word from Jack and, if necessary, search for his lost comrade with what little time he felt he could spare. Though he desperately needed to reach Shelke before harm befell her, he reasoned that whoever had taken her was likely using her as bait, as she had been kept alive for this long. He only hoped his assumption was correct.