Crimson Red, Cerulean Blue

(Lucas)

There’s nothing like being invisible.

Standing there, knowing that you can see everyone, but no one can see you… It gives you a sense of power, the same feeling as you get when you know something someone else doesn’t.

But it wasn’t like that feeling was new to me. I knew a lot of things everyone else didn’t. I knew about the things Mask was capable of, the things Argot was capable of. I knew stuff that would terrify a normal person, seen some of that stuff happen. I’d seen way too much.

And that was why they wanted me dead.

Knowledge is a dangerous thing.

Those supporters of Mask, they don’t know. They don’t understand just what Mask wants, and how much he’s willing to do to get it. No one truly understands just how dangerous he is. What he’s capable of.

Except maybe me. But even I don’t really understand his motives. I don’t even think Argot knows the reason behind his plans. But then again, I don’t really understand Argot all that well either.

You can know someone’s plans, their thoughts and goals, and still not truly know who they truly are.

My eyes flicked warily around the area, still invisible. The landing dock in Viole Town was a busy place that day, which was why I had to stick close to the edge of the pier. People couldn’t see me, but they could still touch me, and I didn’t want someone colliding with what was seemingly empty space and busting my cover.

To be entirely honest, I really didn’t want to be in Viole at the current moment. But there was something I needed to find, somewhere I needed to go, if I ever wanted to see the person I wanted to see again, and this was the only place where I could get a ferry to Indigo Island. Where the person I needed to find was.

I closed my eyes, attempting to get a little rest before the ferry left. I wasn’t one to get all sentimental, so it surprised me when an image of the boy and girl I met on the plane surfaced. The boy had been extremely protective of his sister, shielding her from view, and he’d kept his head down, so I couldn’t get a good look at them. But they reminded me of something I usually kept buried deep, long ago…

My eyes flew open, forcefully ejecting the thought from my mind, but it was too late. Another image had appeared, a girl of only about seven years old, a smile on her face. There was mud on her cheek, her hair was tangled and uncombed, and her clothes were torn, but the apple she held in her hands was perfect, her smile as bright as the sun.

It’s for you!

I bit down hard on my lip. No need to go dragging up painful memories. That girl was gone, anyway. I’d never see her again, since even if she did survive, I probably wouldn’t even recognize her. And she wouldn’t be the girl I knew anymore.

“Ferry to Indigo Island, boarding now!”

I blinked my thoughts away, tugged my hood over my head (it was a comfort thing), checked to make sure I was still invisible, and boarded with the rest of the passengers. You wouldn’t know it just by looking at them, but one of those other passengers was probably one of Argot’s minions, which was why I preferred to stay invisible until the ferry reached its destination.

I slowly slipped downward into the engine room, the emptiest place, where no one would be likely to bump into me. I accidentally stepped on someone’s foot once and started a fight, but I hightailed it out of there before anyone could investigate further. The sunlight was replaced by artificial lights as I descended the steps, blatantly disobeying the sign that read, “Employees Only.”

The engine room was sealed off by a thick metal door that happened to for some reason be ajar. I instantly froze. An open door could only mean two things: there was someone in there, or it was a trap. Probably the former.

What if they’re waiting for me?

But that was impossible. I’d gotten rid of all the tracers on me, so there was no way they could’ve found me. Not with me being invisible. Just in case, though, I slid through the gap, being careful not to move the door even a single millimeter.

“About time.”

I froze yet again. Oh no. Not him.

I turned, hoping against hope that I was mistaken, and I’d just hallucinated that oh-so-familiar voice. But I was out of luck.

Commander Fallon sat regally in a chair, a tea table set for two in front of him, front of him, his expression perfectly calm. As I watched, my heart racing, he picked up the teacup in front of him and drank the entire contents down. I bit my lip as he refilled it like he was drinking alcohol. (Disgusting stuff, by the way.)

“Hello, Lucas,” my former commander said conversationally. “I believe we need to have a little talk.”