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One Character (3)
🕑 Added 2025-04-29 15:17:37 +0000 UTCChapter 3 - Collision Course
The old truck rattled to a stop before the main gate of Aethelgard City. Tall walls, reinforced with salvaged metal and marked by age, loomed over them. A uniformed guard approached, looking bored.
“State your purpose,” the guard droned.
Wes jerked a thumb towards the back without looking at him. “Delivering goods.” His tone implied the cargo should be obvious.
The guard’s bored expression hardened into annoyance. “Identification.”
Wes sighed dramatically and produced his battered Harmonic license. He handed it through the open window. As the guard turned to scan it on his handheld tablet, Wes casually flicked his cigarette. Ash tumbled down, landing squarely on the guard’s polished boot. The guard, distracted by the tablet, didn’t notice.
Maya, however, leaned forward from the back. “Wes! Behave yourself.”
Wes ignored her.
The guard scrutinized the information on his screen and glanced back at Wes, then at the license photo, then back at Wes. The tablet displayed:
[Name: Callahan, Wes.]
[Age: 22. ]
[Harmonic: D-Rank]
[Affiliation: Rackell Scavengers Guild (Rank: Provisional Harvester). ]
[License: Valid. ]
The guild name was unfamiliar, low-ranked, but the credentials checked out. With visible reluctance, the guard handed back the ID.
“Proceed.” He waved them through.
As the truck rolled into the bustling city streets, Dodo let out a breath. “Gods, Wes, why do you always have to provoke them? One day they won’t let us in.”
“We weren’t doing anything illegal,” Wes countered dismissively and navigated the crowded streets towards the Resonance Exchange district.
He parked the truck with a screech in the designated delivery bay of the massive, imposing Exchange building. They all climbed out and stretched stiff limbs.
“Alright,” Rackell announced and smoothed her worn jacket. “Wes, you wait here with the truck. Dodo, keep him company. Nala, Maya, with me.”
Wes immediately tensed. “Wait, I’m coming too. Need to make sure my cut is right this time.” He remembered the last delivery; his share felt suspiciously light.
Before Wes could take a step, Dodo’s thick arm clamped down on his shoulder like a vice. “Leader’s orders, Wes. Stay put.”
“I’m always fair, Wes,” Rackell said with a smirk that suggested otherwise. “Don’t worry your pretty little head.” She turned, and she and Maya strode confidently into the Exchange entrance.
Nala lingered for a moment, offering Wes a small, almost imperceptible smile as he struggled futilely against Dodo’s grip.
Wes caught the smile. “What are you smiling at?!” he snapped at her.
Nala’s smile vanished, and she created some distance.
“Hey! Never yell at a lady, understand?” Dodo tightened his grip momentarily, then released Wes’s shoulder with a warning glare.
Wes merely scowled and leaned against the truck, lighting another cigarette.
A few minutes later, a team of Exchange workers in sterile uniforms came out with an anti-gravity lifter. They inspected the Termite Queen, scanned it, then loaded it onto the lifter and carried it inside. Shortly after, Rackell and Maya emerged, looking pleased.
“Alright, payout time!” Rackell announced cheerfully.
Wes pushed himself off the truck immediately. “My credits. Now.”
Rackell tossed two thin credit chips – one landed in Wes’s outstretched hand, the other in Dodo’s. Maya walked over and placed Nala’s chip gently into her hand.
“Ah, much better.” Maya sighed, then she sniffed her armpit discreetly. “Gods, I stink. A long bath is definitely in order.”
“Agreed,” Rackell nodded. “Wes, you can drop us off at the lodgings on your way out. It’s bit far to walk to.”
Dodo glanced at his chip, then noticed Wes staring intently at his own. “What’s wrong, Wes? Short again?”
Wes held up his chip and spoke angrily. “Short? This is barely scraping minimum hazard pay!” He pointed accusingly at Dodo’s chip. “I bet he got double!”
Rackell crossed her arms as her earlier good mood began evaporating. “Your contribution was minimal, Wes. You sat on a hill, took a few shots after we were ambushed, then drove the truck. Dodo fought on the front line, Nala shielded us, Maya took down multiple targets, and I led the operation and finished the Queen. The shares reflect the work distribution.”
“Yeah, Wes,” Maya added. “You barely pulled your weight this time.”
“True, true.” Even Dodo nodded in agreement.
Hearing their united dismissal fueled Wes’s simmering resentment into outright fury. “Fine! Keep your karking credits!” He spun around, yanked open the truck door, and jumped into the driver's seat. He gunned the engine.
“My credits bought this junk heap anyway! You can all walk back!”
He slammed the truck into gear and peeled out of the bay, tires squealing. He stuck his head out the window as he sped towards the exit ramp, shouting back at his stunned teammates,
“Enjoy the hike, losers!”
Blinded by rage, he wasn’t looking ahead. As he rounded the corner of the exit ramp, another delivery truck was pulling in.
CRUNCH!
The collision wasn’t catastrophic, but metal screamed against metal. Wes’s truck lurched to a halt; the front end crumpled inwards like wet paper. Steam hissed from the damaged radiator.
“Son of a–!”
Wes slammed his fist on the dashboard, then threw open the door, cursing loudly. “Watch where you’re going, you blind idiot!” he yelled at the other truck, even though the fault was clearly his own.
His teammates hurried over. In the face of the accident their anger was momentarily forgotten.
Dodo whistled lowly as he assessed the damage. “Oof. That’s gonna cost you, Wes. Probably all the credits you just got, maybe more.”
“Seriously!?”
The realization hit Wes like a physical blow. He turned to the others as his anger deflated into desperation. “Hey, guys, uh… Spot me a loan? Just till the next run?”
Rackell scoffed. “A loan? You were just about to abandon us here! Fix your own mess, Callahan.”
Maya and Dodo nodded grimly.
“Stingy bastards,” Wes muttered.
Just then, the driver of the other truck climbed out. He was a portly, middle-aged man whose simple attire lacked any visible Resonance Socket. “My truck! What in the blazes happened? You came flying around that corner!”
Wes immediately went on the offensive, jabbing a finger at the man. “My truck? You pulled out without looking! You owe me compensation for these damages!”
The driver sputtered, flabbergasted by Wes’s audacity. “Me?! I was barely moving! You–”
“Is there a problem here?”
A new voice cut through the argument, calm and cool, yet carrying an undeniable authority. Both Wes and the portly driver turned. Emerging from the passenger side of the damaged truck was a group of Harmonics, but all eyes were drawn to their leader.
She was breathtakingly beautiful, with an aura of composed power that seemed to dim the surrounding cityscape. Sunlight caught the highlights in her immaculate hair, and her tailored, high-grade Harmonic gear spoke of wealth and success.
“Oh my God.”
Rackell gasped softly upon recognizing her instantly – Elizabeth Pellesh, leader of the 'Crimson Star' Guild, one of the fastest-rising and most prestigious outfits in the region. Rackell secretly idolized her power and influence. After all, they were almost the same age and Elizabeth had over a hundred subordinates in her guild.
“Huh!? She’s…”
Wes, however, felt a jolt like an electric shock. His blood ran cold. He knew that face, that posture, that aura. Elizabeth Pellesh. The name slammed into his mind like a hammer blow from the past. He instinctively ducked his head, trying to shrink behind Dodo’s bulk, hoping desperately she wouldn’t recognize him.
Another truck, clearly part of the same convoy, pulled up behind them. More Harmonics disembarked – core members of Crimson Star, their gear top-of-the-line, their expressions radiating quiet confidence.
One man, tall and classically handsome with long, flowing hair, stepped up beside Elizabeth.
“What’s the situation, Jorn?” the handsome man asked the portly driver.
Driver Jorn pointed an accusatory finger at Wes, who was still trying to hide. “This lunatic came speeding around the ramp, sir! Slammed right into us! Now he’s blaming me!”
Feeling exposed and cornered, Wes tried to edge away, hoping to slip back towards his wrecked truck unnoticed. He didn’t get two steps before Elizabeth Pellesh tapped the heel of her boot lightly on the ground.
CLACK!
A ripple of invisible force, pure resonance, slammed outwards. It hit Wes like a physical blow, knocking him off his feet and sending him sprawling onto the grimy pavement. Dodo, Rackell, Maya, and Nala stumbled back from the casual display of power.
“Bastards! Want a fight?!” Dodo’s protective instincts flared. Shadowy energy began to coalesce around his left arm.
“Dodo, no!” Rackell grabbed his arm urgently. She recognized the disparity in power.
The handsome man beside Elizabeth laughed softly and waved a dismissive hand at her. “No need to exert yourself over this trash, Eliza.”
He flicked a perfect strand of his long hair back over his shoulder. His right arm shimmered, then transformed violently. His skin morphed into thick, dark fur and his fingers elongated into massive, wickedly curved claws – a malevolent bear-like claw. He dragged the claws across the pavement, sending sparks flying, the sound was grating on everyone’s nerves.
He stalked towards the downed Wes. “You heard the man. You caused the damage. You will compensate.”
Wes scrambled backward with adrenaline surging through him despite the fear. “Try me,” he spat, defiance overriding common sense.
“Aroth!”
His Resonance Socket flared. The familiar, biological sniper rifle materialized in his grip, the eye in the scope began swiveling to fix on the approaching man. Wes aimed it, however his hands were trembling slightly.
“Wes, calm down.” Nala came to his side.
The man with the bear claw paused and narrowed his eyes as he took in the unique weapon. He was close now. He heard Nala, who had moved closer to Wes protectively, whisper his name, "Wes..."
The man's eyes widened slightly. He tilted his head. “Wait a minute… Did she just call you Wes?”
He stared intently at the figure aiming the strange rifle, at the familiar defiant posture despite the obvious fear. Recognition dawned, slow then sudden. A cruel, mocking grin spread across his handsome face.
He stopped and lowered his clawed hand slightly; the intimidation he displayed was replaced by sneering amusement.
“Well, well… Wes Callahan. Look at you. Still rocking that one Character, huh?” He spat the next words out like venom:
“One. Character. Idiot.”
The insult hit Wes harder than the resonance blast. He flinched as if struck again. He stared up at the handsome, mocking face, the long hair, the powerful bear claw Character… and the past crashed into the present. That arrogant tone, that smug superiority…
Duvalo.
Duvalo Brando.
The snot-nosed kid from the Academy who used to trail after him, simultaneously envious and resentful. Now standing over him, powerful and mocking. The world seemed to tilt once more.
