Before the one you serve.

Tic let out a gasp, gritting his teeth as the hand scorched painfully across his face. Larkin's infliction stung like a burning brand upon his cold cheeks; Tic was harmed, and Larkin had lied. Tic idly stared off into a corner, wide-eyed and numb with a momentary shock. He could hardly hear Miraye's dull screams of protest through his own regretful and pained thoughts.

Breathing softly, he continued to stare into the gloomy corner; his vision became blurry as the shock wore away, displaced by a null despair. Though the stinging in his face was most acute, he could still feel the dull prickly feeling in eyes, and couldn't ignore it. As he lowered his head to a sleeve to clear his eyes, a cold something reached the brim of his upper lip. It slipped inside his mouth, tasting like copper. He continued his wipe his eyes, rubbing his entire face against his shoulder. He raised his head and breathed quickly; dark red spots dotted the white folds of his tunic; his nose was bleeding.

A new wave of anxiety came over him; the last time he'd had a nosebleed, it didn't stop until he'd lain in bed for almost an entire week. It had occurred the same day he met with The Sink; he had been fleeing from the Uniformed, almost caught in their electric staves, but miraculously - somehow, he didn't even know - escaping. There he found the Sink; they nursed him, worried that he was dying, as the blood flow wouldn't stop. It was only until he felt drained of all blood, half-dead, that a strange, white, elevated feeling filled him, and the bleeding finally stopped. He never spoke to anyone about the strange feeling; perhaps he was hallucinating from lack his of blood.

He wiped his nose clean again and kept his glance away from the two, afraid to turn back. His mind was now crawling with parasitic thoughts, dulling the world behind his turned head. The strike, the blood, his fate.. the girl. The girl, Miraye, could she have really done it? She was such a frightened, innocent-looking girl; where would she get the supplies to create such a machine of mass destruction? Larkin was treating her harshly behind him; he felt slightly offended. Surely it was a mistake.. she didn't deserve this.. that poor girl must have been mistaken for someone else.

Then she too was taken into Larkin's gaze; he could sense it. Her energy was suddenly muffled, and yet somehow it spiked; an eerie sensation veered towards him. He continued to stare into the corner, and wiped his nose clean of a new, thin stream of blood. He barely listened to her as she began to spill her truths to Larkin, drowned and perturbed by his own thoughts.

But it was her! She had destroyed the eastern side, as her monotone voice had claimed. Tic raised his head slightly in mild astonishment. He felt a slight intimidation all of a sudden, sitting next to such a powerful renegade. But how did she.. so quickly? Larkin was as interested as he was. Tic's thoughts returned to himself, as he strained to clear his mind and listen. And then he heard it.

"I felt guilty when I left him," Miraye stated, clearly, and without emotion. "Tic tried to save me, but I left him." A familiar, but alien, thrill ran through Tic, clearing his mind of all other thoughts. She wasn't lying, was she? She was still in Larkin's gaze; her voice continued flatly. How could that be? She was telling the truth. Tic's already burning cheeks flushed with a new wave of strange heat; why would someone destroy half a city just for him? How did she do it? And why, why ...for him?

As he began to question himself, his doubts became suddenly certain; he felt a burning rage begin to stir. He could feel Larkin's indignation radiating toward the girl; and he was offended, his own emotions heightening progressively. Larkin was yelling at her, his deceptive eyes inefficient for extracting exactly what he wanted; Tic breathed harsher, clenching his fists tightly with a raging passion. His nose bled freely, but he didn't care. His eyes were stinging, angry tears threatening to escape. Everything before him seemed to be burning with an intense heat, his emotions increasing with every angry breath. At that, he jerked his head towards the two; a fresh wave of absolute vigor flushed him of all other feeling. The man was going to hurt Miraye.

"No!" Tic cried out, a tear escaping him as he spoke. Larkin's eyes flashed toward him; their gazes connected. For a moment, they stared impassively, but the fire in the man's eyes suddenly elevated Tic's vehemence. The burning anger suddenly rose out of him, as though a demon was leaving his soul, taking all his energy with it; Larkin instantaneously let go of Miraye's hair and lowered his fist. He reflexively placed both his white, gloved hands against his eyes, just barely reminiscent of the guard's incident from the previous night. He merely gasped, grimacing for a moment, while his orange flames glared through the white bars of his fingers. The pain subsided; his fingers slid slowly over his cheeks, and his impervious glare intensified. Tic sighed weakly through a daze of fatigue, his chest heaving, and his own violet gaze unwavering.