Chapter Text
Till blinked once. Blinked twice. His eyes struggling to adjust to the lights he was staring at on the ceiling. God. Everything hurt. He recalled being on that stage with Luka. It suddenly came back to him.
“-are we even sure if he’s alive?”
He lost. He really lost. It didn’t matter that he had felt slightly hopeful near the end of the performance. Those aliens still shot him. They didn’t feel pity for him after all. Alien Stage was pure entertainment for those revolting creatures.
“I hear they recovered th-“
How? How was he alive? His thoughts went back and forth. Where was Mizi? Was she okay? Till could only remember briefly seeing her—within the audience—during the last round. What was happening?
“-too valuable for the aliens-“
No. Ivan. Till’s mind was replaying the events of round six. He couldn’t understand why Ivan did what he did. He felt confused, terrified still. Ivan was gone. He was really gone.
“Till.”
Why? Why did he have to be gone? Till felt like their days in Anakt Garden were just yesterday. He could’ve sworn the two of them were telling a flower to cheer up not too long ago.
“Till.”
It didn’t make sense. It was too cruel to think about. Till thinks back on how Ivan smiled at him before falling to the ground. He tears up slightly. Why did Ivan smile at him? Him, of all people? Wasn’t he the same person who always got angry at him over nothing?
“Hey! Are you with us!?”
He sat up and suddenly saw people surrounding him. They all looked concerned and tired. He was hooked up to a bed for hospitalization. They all had similar colored hoodies on, some seemed slightly injured with crutches or burn marks. Where in the world was he? Till realized he wasn’t at the stage.
At least that was a plus, right?
As he opened his mouth to speak, nothing came out. It hurt to do so, despite that only air was released. He holds the side of his neck painfully. He noticed a man with a scar on his face leaning closer, and forcing his hand away from his neck.
“Easy. Don’t touch your wound,” said the stranger. “We don’t need to make it worse.”
Till stared at the guy on his right side, feeling how his heart was pounding. He was very lost right now, desperate for an explanation of some sort. He felt panic rise within him. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t speak at all! He moves away slightly in a panicked manner, causing at least one of the wires connected to him to fall off.
“Relax! Relax. You must be scared, right?“ The man sighed, while trying to empathize. “I understand. You’ve gone through a lot.”
Till swallows, feeling a jolt of pain just by doing so. He felt anxious and uneasy from his new surroundings and situation. He just wanted an answer.
“After you were shot, she-….” The stranger’s voice trailed off slightly, sounding almost reluctant.
Till’s heart skipped a beat. Mizi. That’s the only person he could be talking about, right? He faintly remembers seeing her alive just before getting shot. His eyes widen as he stares at him, eager for him to continue.
The man looked at Till, hesitant to speak, but he, nonetheless, proceeds. “Mizi lit the stage on fire, and realized you were alive.”
What? Till looks away for a moment. She lit the stage on fire? How? Why?! Was she okay!? He felt panicked again.
“So, she saved you. She told me your name was Till and she gave me a final wish.”
Till’s eyebrows furrowed slightly in curiousity. He had a million questions, but he couldn’t ask any of them. It was going to be a while to get used to not being able to speak.
“Mizi told me she wanted me to take you into the rebellion,“ he said to him slowly, before pausing. “And to give you a second chance at living.”
A second chance to live. Till’s heart clenched at the thought. Mizi thought of him. She saved him. He felt an overwhelming sense of emotion wash over him.
He opens his mouth to talk, only for nothing to come of it, and turn into a coughing fit, causing the people around him to immediately touch him and ask if he was alright, some getting medicines. Eventually, Till settles down.
“My name is Isaac. Once you recover, you’ll be one of us.”
~
The next month was hell. Every day, he was in the bed. At least he wasn’t hooked up to a machine anymore, or have wires connected to his skin everywhere. However, it was all still a nightmare. Not being able to speak.
Till’s hair grew out a bit, and Isaac’s bullet wound in the leg recovered quickly within that time. Till wasn’t doing quite as bad but it was still unfavorable.
“Should we tell him..?” Isaac murmured to a fellow rebel in the room, catching Till’s attention.
What were they talking about? He hated being left out in the dark, or treated as too weak to handle himself. He stared at the two uncomfortably, some hair strands getting in the way of his view. It’s been a while since it’s been styled or cut, not since Alien Stage.
Just as Till was going to try and speak, he felt a cold hand rest on the back of his neck. He shuddered slightly, and turned to see Ivan sitting on the edge of the bed, beside him. Every day was a nightmare too, because he had to see him.
Isaac walked over, distracting Till for a moment from the parasite beside him. “Hey. Is everything alright, buddy?”
He nodded his head. Till looked down, and heard Ivan chuckle a bit. What was so funny, anyway? It made him uneasy, but he never felt like he could fight against him. Why would he fight a hallucination?
“Alright. I just want to give you an update on your health,” he said, sitting on a chair near the bed. “It’s not that you’re incapable of speaking, since your vocal cords are recovering, aside from a few injuries there.”
Till knew why he couldn’t speak. He glanced at Ivan beside him, noticing how he just…smiled at him. It’s like he knew he was the reason, and was glad for it. Till understood all too well that Ivan prevented him from talking.
“We just suspect it’ll be a while before you can fully speak again.” Isaac looks at Till, seemingly expectant for a certain kind of reaction.
He wasn’t shocked. He knew an injury in the neck would cause some damages, for certain. But hearing that was discouraging. He felt almost embarrassed. How would he communicate with people? Dread filled within him.
Isaac sighs softly and looks at him with concern. “We have a few resources here in the base to help you learn sign language, if you want.”
Till didn’t want to have to do that, but he needed something to help him at least. He stares below, reluctantly, before nodding his head after contemplating.
“Great. Thank you. Take your time to rest now,” he said.
Till wanted to stop Isaac and desperately ask what he was muttering to another rebel before this conversation, but he couldn’t. He stares at him helplessly, as he leaves the room. Now he was alone with Ivan. He hated that.
He lies back down on the bed in silence. Ivan scoots closer and lies down next to him, turning on his side to stare at Till.
~
————————
“Su…a…”
The witch murmured weakly, clutching the desert’s sandy ground. It burned to touch it, but it certainly wasn’t as painful as the fire’s burns. She felt Sua’s ghost cling beside her, a vain attempt to comfort Mizi. She’d cry if she could, but nothing came out.
To hell with them all. Mizi was abandoned in the middle of nowhere, pained and alone. At least Sua was by her side, until the end. The aliens deserved what they got. She hopes she ruined their fun and burnt them all into ashes with the rocket.
Hyuna.
I know you’d be disappointed with me. I ruined your plan, I ruined the entire rebellion’s plan.
Mizi’s mind flashes back to being amidst the fire, the rebels beating her in anger after she inverted the rocket’s direction. Part of her doesn’t even blame them. They’d been working hard all this time, only for her to scrap it all into pieces.
But it had to be done. Calling for help wasn’t going to do anything. Instead, portraying the people’s spirit by burning the stage would do it. It would show that humans weren’t to give up. That they would fight back.
Mizi weakly stood back up, trembling. Her entire body hurt.
~
She made it into the main city. It was cold, and lonely. Nobody ever stopped to acknowledge the witch, because she simply looked like another lunatic human on the streets. Mizi wore a black wig. It reminded her of Sua, especially back when she had longer hair. It made her inconspicuous enough. Mizi still had her rebellion uniform on, but it was barely discernible. It was shredded and tattered, too worn out to be recognized as the rebellion’s uniform.
The city was where all the unwanted humans were. There were some guards roaming in the streets, a few aliens with their illegally bought humans, and other abandoned humans dying in alleyways and whatnot. It was miserable and dark.
Mizi looked down at her paper cutout in her hands as she sat down in the corner of an alleyway. She had found some paper in garbage cans, as well as the scissors.
Sua’s youthful voice was filled with such childish joy as she said, “Here’s how you make a paper cut out! We should make one of all four of us.”
The memory was sad now. It only made Mizi’s burnt hands clutch the paper cutout, causing part of it to crumble slightly. “I’m done,” she says, smiling as she unfolds it. Sua was on the right, connected to Mizi, who was joined with Till, and lastly Ivan. She laughs, a raspy and defeated one at that.
They were all gone. It was her fault. Mizi believed she manipulated them all, causing them to die. She was a horrible, selfish individual who only valued her own survival. Mizi never cared for Sua, Till, and Ivan. She never considered them once.
Mizi grasps the paper cutout more tightly, causing it to break. Similar to how she broke all of them, she destroyed everyone. She starts to cry, weakly. The wet tears caused a slight burning sensation over her scars on her face. Maybe this was a sense of comeuppance. Because she was such a horrible person, she only deserved to cry with pain, she thought.
A woman who was once considered so beautiful, so precious, was now scarred, crying in an alleyway over her past. She laughs out loud. It was comical, how fast she went from being everyone’s favorite person in Anakt Garden, everyone’s crush, to now the most hated person. Even humans hated her.
She drops the cutout. They were gone. And they were never going to come back.
Her family.
~
Three years have passed. And not much has changed for Mizi since the Alien Stage ‘tragedy’. She’s still in the city, alone. Nobody has figured out her identity. She walks in the streets, the bright lights of advertisements were blinding for her. It’s the third anniversary for the so-called tragedy. The one she caused.
Mizi glances on the road, seeing a familiar group of rebels pass by. She shudders as she remembers previous events from them. Mizi noticed how some of them had motorcyclist outfits. Seeing them grouped up, she couldn’t help but think about Till. It hurt just to be reminded of him.
She still had the same wig on, the one that made her look just like Sua. She turns away from them, feeling a mix of painful nostalgia of what happened, and shame. Though she didn’t regret burning the stage, she regrets the act of betraying the same rebellion that saved her from the fifth round.
Mizi didn’t pay attention as they were now lost in the crowded area. She looked on the right side at all the infrastructure, with all of the glowing news, advertisements, and entertainment reflecting onto the streets.
‘ANAKT MUSEUM IN PROGRESS’
She huffed. They were still trapping people, treating them as slaves. It wasn’t Alien Stage, but it was still enslavement. Mizi felt anguish within her, at the cruel reminder that the humans fight was still not over.
Mizi walked a bit further, until seeing a large red colored screen being reflected on her. She stops again, the bright light was obnoxious to-
‘SUA IS BACK.’
Mizi stared, her eyes slowly adjusting and fixating on the face of her loved one, smiling with her gorgeous black hair, and her white outfit from the first round three years ago. It wasn’t possible. She died three years ago! Mizi’s heart started to pound, full of anticipation, anxiety, and slight hope. Hope that maybe…somehow Sua was alive. She was actually okay.
She immediately breaks down in the middle of the sidewalk. Mizi couldn’t help it as her memories flooded back.
No.
Mizi quickly wiped her tears, her breathing fast and uneven as her mind was racing. That was it. No more of staying here. Whatever she had to do, she had to be with Sua. She needed to know if this was true. Mizi glanced down at the screen, seeing some text on the bottom.
‘Alien Stage’s favorite 50th anniversary contestants have been preserved not only due to the tragedy, but to reuse some of their favorable genes for future contestants! Say hello to another fantastic season of Alien Stage coming soon!’
Mizi’s heart sank, all of a sudden. They were using Sua just because of her genes. Of course they didn’t care about saving her. The 50th season made profits, and the aliens thrived during this period of entertainment. She brushes the thought. Mizi thought if they might’ve saved the other contestants too. Ivan and…Luka.
Sua was alive. That was what was significant. It was what Mizi had to focus on. She thinks back on the rebellion. Are they aware of this? Mizi couldn’t do this alone. She needs support. But how could she even gain the support of the organization she betrayed? She swallows while contemplating. Mizi had to see Sua again.
It was the only thing that would motivate her now to keep living.
~
End of Intro