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A pang of pain struck Acht’s head as they fell on their knees. They’d barely been able to walk out of the filthy hospital room before collapsing completely. Another wave of nausea swept through their weak body, making them double over in preparation of more vomit. Was the post-surgery pain supposed to be this intense? Nothing felt real at that point. Every bone in their body ached and screamed for rest, their intestines felt like they were on fire and they wanted to hurl again, yet nothing remained in their stomach. Acht closed their eyes as they lied down on the grotesque floor. They hadn’t felt pain like this in forever. Not since Callie was taken from them. “She was rescued.” Acht weakly thought to themself. That’s what the rotting newspapers in the metro had said on their covers. “Famous pop idol Callie Cuttlefish rescued from The Octarian Army!” had been printed in big black letters across the front, with a photo of an admittedly tired looking Callie next to them. Acht had scanned the newspaper from front to back several times, looking for anything, anything, Callie had said about them. But there was nothing. She didn’t remember them. She didn’t remember anything from her entire time under the Octarian’s hold. Acht didn’t even exist to her.
It left them with a sense of numbness inside. Not heartbreak - they’d learned their lesson about that from when Marina had left - but just empty numbness. They’d poured their heart into Callie. They’d told her everything about themselves. The feelings of being trapped and nauseous within themselves, the hole that Marina had left, and their longing for someone who felt like them. And Callie would listen. She’d listen to their troubles and reply in that sickeningly sweet voice, telling them that she knew what they meant and that she understood. It made it sting even more when she happily joined her cousin again after being freed from those glasses. Octavio said about how he “told them so” and that “all inklings are traitors who only use you for their own gain” but Acht didn’t believe him. They didn’t want to believe him. Callie was more than just someone who used people, she understood them and was kind, caring, she was so much more.
Acht hissed in pain as they stood up, their legs screaming at them to lie back down. They kept moving towards the exit of the hallway. They wanted to leave, to find Callie, to make her remember them so they could finally be with each other again. But the circumstances said otherwise. Their job was simple - Make music for the sanitised soldiers. Don’t ask questions. And so they would. They’d just make music and never ask questions, all the while silently hoping that Callie would remember them, and come and save them.