Icarus stared at David after that statement. Savoring the intelligence that remained in the man for a second longer before the 30-minute mark arrived, and David would begin to devolve into the ramblings he always seemed to dive into.

  "…"

  "You hear it to right?"

  And so it was here, David was doing quite well at fighting the madness gripping his soul, actually, no other patient was able to hold any conversation at all, let alone for 30 minutes.

  But in the end, he was mad just the same. And that was why Icarus hated visiting David so much.

  'You see it too, right?"

  "Cmon Icarus, I know if anybody can, it's you, nobody understands but you will."

  He suddenly cut off, clawing at his ears in response to an unknown, unheard voice that came from nowhere.

  "Tell me, Icarus, you hear it too."

  He pleaded this time, looking at Icarus like he was his last lifeline.

  "Tell me you hear those maddening whispers. That you see the one above all, endlessly weaving threads that look far too familiar but far too abstract."

  Icarus couldn't take it anymore; he reached around, scrambling for the door.

  "Please."

  Icarus froze. It was always far too difficult to turn away once he said that, but it was more difficult to look the man in the eye, so he reached for the door handle and exited the room, slamming the door behind him.

  "Icarus…"

  He looked up at the voice, noticing a hunched woman with long, auburn hair looking down on him. Hold on, wasn't Jane shorter than him?

  How is she looking down at him?

  The thought disoriented him for a second, until his mind registered his knees, which were pressed into his stomach, hugged tight by his arms, which were draped in front of him.

  "You've been out here crying for an hour. How about you go home and get some rest?"

  Oh, right. He'd spoken with David.

  "…I will." His voice was hoarse, causing words to break in the pressure of the air. "But first, take me to the briefing room."

  Jane seemed to shudder at that, seemingly already aware of the meaning behind the statement.

  Before Icarus was a screen showing David’s room. He froze at the image of David kneeling before the door outside, hands bracing against it.

  "Rewind the tape to 30 minutes before I entered the room."

  The tapes distorted as the camera rewinded to an image of David standing in the middle of the room again, conversing with someone who wasn't yet there.

  "You reek of alcohol, man."

  He was talking to Icarus—Before Icarus had ever entered.

  Icarus watched the screen as it played back the entirety of the conversation they had just had, despite there only being one person before his eyes.

  "Now wind them to almost right after I left the room."

  The sharp sound of a door slamming echoed through the speakers, causing Icarus to flinch. On the screen, David returned to the center of the room, paused, then spoke again.

  "You reek of alcohol, man."

  There it was, the inevitability of each time Icarus went to visit David, which made visiting him far too difficult.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Because, unlike others, who only had to face the 30-minute timer of David's sanity. Any visit Icarus made would leave David experiencing it three times.

  It hurt to watch.

  And yet Icarus continued, all the way up until the image ended, and cut to a live-feed of David's form, frozen in the middle of the room.

  Icarus couldn't stomach it anymore; he stood up quickly, making way for the door.

  "You wanna know why this happens, Icarus?"

  "You wanna know why this happens, Icarus?"

  "You wanna know why this happens, Icarus?"

  Icarus heard David's voice layer over itself multiple times as he looked towards the screen. greeted with the sight of David's form layered on top of itself three times, causing his every action to leave multiple afterimages. Disorienting Icarus.

  "I've seen the weaves of fate, Icarus, and by some twisted chance ours have become inseparable. When your life ends, so will mine, and when my life ends, so will yours."

  He lifted his hand, demonstrating his point by drawing Icarus's attention to his charred arm.

  Sparks flew from his fingertips as electricity seemed to manifest itself around him, bouncing off the air and floor alike.

  "I shall save you from your fate, Icarus, believe me. And this shall be my first step in doing so."

  David's blackened arm disappeared in a cloud of electricity as he expended all the power stored in it at once.

  At the same time, Icarus shook, as he felt something inside him being drained from a spout connected to his arm.

  He looked down at it, only to find it was slowly regaining its color, returning from the blackened state David's had mirrored earlier. Looking back up at the monitor, Icarus found a sight somehow worse than the situation before.

  David's room was filled with electricity and the fire it caused, swirling around like the inside of a raging storm, until suddenly it compressed into one infinitely small string that burned brighter than the very sun itself, causing a black dot to be burned into the camera's lens. The string seemed to lengthen infinitely, stretching past the confines of the building and out past the stratosphere, tethering itself to David. And suddenly, the line snapped, disappearing like a figment of his imagination.

  "And with this, I have both repaid your debt for you and laid rest to the curse inflicted upon me. You don't need to worry anymore."

  Icarus stared at the screen, dumbfounded, as blood poured out from the spot where David's arm used to be.

  Smoke filled the room, obscuring the sight of the cameras, but not enough for Icarus to miss what happened next.

  David stumbled towards one of the flames. Sinking the bleeding stump that used to be his arm into it, primitively cauterizing the wound.

  The feed cut out.

  Icarus scrambled for a switch to turn it back on, only to freeze at the sight before him.

  His arm, which used to be blackened and charred, just like David's, was now whole and healthy. He reached forward, trying to summon the electricity he had stored inside it, only to find none came.

  Icarus scrambled away from the briefing room. Yanking the door open, breaking the handle as he did so.

  He needed to save David.

  The halls weaved endlessly as Icarus stumbled through them, looking for the familiar door of Davids Office.

  Once finally greeted by it, he skidded to a stop, almost falling over as he halted all his momentum in one go.

  The handle burned his hand as he turned it, making his skin stick to the metal as he left it behind as he ran for David's unconscious form.

  He kneeled over it, pushing with all his might, only to find his fragile frame couldn't lift or budge his body an inch.

  Thoughts seemed to race through his mind as the world slowed to a crawl around him.

  Was he going to die here?

  Was David going to die here?

  No chance.

  Icarus rummaged through his lab coat, fingers finding the cap to the emergency salts he kept on him for medical emergencies.

  He quickly unscrewed them, shoving them towards David's face, hoping they weren't expired yet.

  David's eyes shot open as he sat upright. Obviously disoriented by the smelling salts effect.

  But that wasn't fast enough; they need to be out of this room. Now.

  Icarus gripped the man's remaining hand quickly, forcing him to stand tall as he ran for the door, pulling David in his wake.

  "You fool, even if you could pay my debt, don't you know I could have done it myself by becoming a reaper?"

  David looked towards Icarus, a knowing look flashing in his eyes.

  "The universe is unkind to thieves. Had you stepped through that gate, you would have ended up in that godforsaken town where the hivemind lives."

  They both shuddered at the words, remembering the videos that had come across their desks late one night of a town of masked men, each acting normally until aggravated. Which caused their true secret to be revealed.

  "How long is that ambulance going to take anyway?"

  They both sat down outside the research facility, the fires in which long put out by the automatic sprinklers.

  David chuckled in response.

  "Knowing them i'll probably look young again by the time they get here."

  Icarus's face turned grave at the statement.

  "I wish."

  He started, noticing his mistake.

  "-I mean it'd be nice, not that you look bad-"

  He was cut off by the sound of David's laugh.

  "No, no, I get it. I look terrible, don't I?"

  "But really, you look worse."

  There's no way this guy could be serious?

  "No, really, you look terrible, I swear, with how deep your eye bags are, I could practically rest in them myself."

  He'd have continued arguing with him from there if it weren't for the fact that the topic overwhelmed him with drowsiness, causing his eyelids to fall uncontrollably.

  The ambulance could take care of David, right?

  The subject of his thoughts seemed to notice his fatigue as he said.

  "Just sleep, Icarus…" He scoffed as he added, "I can't stand to see those eyebags anyway."

  The words only lulled Icarus into sleep further, so much so that he only barely registered the stiff shoulder bracing the side of his head as his body went limp. Sending him into a deep slumber.