The White Hall

....Neptune's head lulled back without the weight of the helmet, blood was all over his side of the ship. Blood was running down his mouth, and he had pieces of the hatch all over and through his body. An arm was hanging on only by the bit of suit undamaged, a hand was still gripping his controls, but the arm it belonged was no where in sight. His eyes showed exactly how far gone he already was, but he looked to Pallas and swallowed his mouthful of blood, his voice barely more than air making sound akin to words. "Cecil... I ... I ... I love you..." And with his words, the light was completely gone from his eyes. The fighter's body slumped now that the muscles holding on had lost all the signal to remain tensed. His head dropped against his shoulder.

His eyes shot open, the pain was gone but a new pain took over when his eyes opened, a bright white flooded them. The fighter shielded his face with his left hand, the blazing intensity took several minutes to dismiss with heavy blinking. Once his eyes focused, he felt ... almost startled. Confused. He was standing in the hanger. It was quiet, and dark. And he couldn't make out the shape of any ships. .. almost certainly alone here in an empty room. Neptune pushed back his hair and started for the door. Odd, he remembered being blinded by the light, but the room he was in barely had the emergency lights. He paused, looking to the large hatch that normally led out to space, they would fly out of it for missions. He staggered over to it, unsure why his legs didn't quite want to follow his commands. It was almost as if he had been sleeping for ages and his legs were stiff. Or worse, like he over did leg day and he was lucky to be able to stand. Slowly, but surely, the fighter reached the door, opening a small portal hole window used often by the engineers to just check out what was outside. He was surprised, the stars were so bright, the collection of gases and nebulae that he could see, was the most beautiful he'd ever seen. He HAD to find Pallas to show him. As quickly as his weak legs would take him, he sprinted for the door, excited by the view. He managed to pry the door open. Perhaps they were flying silent on back up power. He couldn't remember why he was in there, especially all alone. Neptune didn't even know why he kept feeling like he was supposed to be choking, an occasional breath would feel like when he was sick and had fluid in his chest. Still, it was so inconsistent he'd almost forget it two breaths later. When he did enter the hall, he saw it was well lit. But unlike what he was used to, the ship was stark white. Almost medical. Their ship was normally various shades of gray and bluish gray, but now to see it so white, it startled him. Neptune stood stock still in the hall. Perhaps it was the lighting? Maybe they'd always been this color but he'd gotten so used to the light that they looked different? But even the floors were white, the guiding lights almost looked off they were so similar in brightness to the floor. He hesitated. Carefully, he reached for the wall with his right hand, intent to let it guide him as he inched along the wall. But his right hand just would not co-operate. He couldn't raise his arm at all. What the hell had happened? He turned, looking to his arm, it was still there. It looked fine. And yet, he was completely unable to get it to respond. His heart began to race, he thought. Fear creeping up his spine like an uncomfortable tickle working it's way to unsettle him.

As he walked the unfamiliar corridor he'd walked a thousand times, he started to settle a little more. Other than the color, nothing look different. It was the same old halls. And yet, it was so quiet. He couldn't hear people talking, engines roaring, the lights humming. All the familiar sounds that he never really gave much thought to, having spent several years around them and them being all but background noise now, their absence almost was louder. He could actually hear his own foot steps, always able without looking to know he was coming to a cross hall when the echoing would trail quieter and quieter until he passed. What the hell was going on. Why was the ship so empty? Where was everyone? ... Did the Colteron finally win and take everyone hostage? But why was he spared? Did they think he was dead? No. He had to shake those thoughts from his head. There was likely a completely logical reason for all of this, and letting his mind wander was not going to do him any good right now. Neptune had decided, he would go first to his room, maybe Pallas was there and could explain. And if not, then the mess hall. It was NEVER empty. Almost impossible for it to be. It had a lot of places to sit, so even when you couldn't eat there, he knew lots of the navigators would have what he called "Study Hall" there. And sometimes the fighters would gather there for more physical games, moving all the tables to be their "Stands". The memories actually being a much more comforting way for his stupid brain to wander, and he felt his body begin to relax. Once in the lift, out of habit he reached with his right hand to the controls. Just about the moment he thought to himself that his right hand was not going to respond, it had already come up and push the lift button to send him to the deck where his room was. Perhaps he just hadn't noticed it and had slept on it. After all, despite standing he was pretty sure he woke up in the hanger. Once on his deck, he stepped out. The familiar dull look of the halls was there, and yet it was still off. Everything was still white, and yet the lighting was still so minimal. Well, that did answer his one concern that perhaps it was just the lighting ... it was not. Neptune counted off the rooms, reading their numbers out loud as he walked to his room. Odd, his voice wasn't echoing much, and how much his steps did, he would have expected it. He stopped in front of his room and pressed the door open button.

Same old room. He stepped inside and about had a heart attack to now be standing in the medbay. Wasn't he ...? Hadn't he just walked into his room? How did he get here? What just happened? The sounds came flooding back, but dull. It was like he was hearing them through ... well the only thing he could think of was like when he got water in his ears swimming. Everything was kind of muffled. And yet, even so quiet it was so very, very loud. He'd never seen the full medical team all in the medbay at once before ... well he had ... but not since BattleRun. Why were they scurrying? He turned his head and seeing Necro sitting in the waiting room, he ran over to him," Necro thank god! Do you have any idea what's going on here!?" The fighter didn't reply. Didn't even look at him. "... Hey ... HEY ASSHOLE I'M TALKING TO YOU!!" Neptune growled, grabbing for the fighter. But he ... missed? He actually had to look at his own hands when he pulled them back. How did he miss? Necro was directly in front of him. He tired again, and Necro jumped. Neptune smirked, good. He was about to speak when he noticed, it wasn't him that made the fighter jump. His navigator had joined him. Saros was now holding his friend, and yet, it was like Necro didn't really notice. So he wasn't crazy, the poor guy was probably shell shocked. Neptune turned to Saros," Do you have any idea what's going on here?" Again, no reply. Perhaps things were too loud. All the same, he was about to give up, but Alonz breezed passed him. The doctor actually stopped, looking back at Neptune with this expression that said he hadn't seen him and just realized he almost ran into him. The fighter waited for the doctor to apologize, but was confused to see the doctor looked around. Like he didn't know where the person he almost ran into just went. And then he continued off toward the surgery theater. This was getting old fast. Did he do something to offend everyone or something? Neptune followed after Alonz, ready to give the doctor a piece of his mind when he saw Yurok and Quentin wheeling Pallas into a room. Pallas!? What had happened?!" He darted in after them, demanding answers. Neither doctor replied and both just exchanged medical jargon. "HEY!" Neptune growled," THAT'S MY NAVIGATOR, WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED!?" He went to grab for Quentin, intent to turn him around and make him reply. But again he missed. Only this time, he saw how he missed. His hand just would not make contact with the doctor. Like he wasn't there. Neptune turned to Pallas, panicked now. He felt his lip quivering as seeing his navigator on the medical bed, hearing the grave tones of the doctors, it was almost too much. He dropped to his knees beside the bed and grabbed at him. He knew it would be fruitless, just like it was to grab Necro, or Doctor Quentin. And yet, he felt Pallas's hand in his. This broke him, he began to sob, tightening his grip.

The next time he looked up, the doctors had left the room. He was still on his knees, and had no idea how long he'd been crying. But he could feel a pulse in the hand he was holding, he knew that Pallas was alright. He slowly got to his feet, looking over his navigator. He extended his hand and gently brushed the back of it against his cheek," ... Cecil ... I have no idea what's going on ... and ... I'm so scared ..." He leaned over and kissed his navigator," ... I just want you to be okay ... you're supposed to be okay. Always." The room flooded with light, the door behind him opened. As Pallas began to stir, Neptune felt the hand slipping from his grip. He sighed, turning toward the door, stepping out passed Commander Drake. But instead of returning to the hall that led to the waiting room, he found himself in the mess hall. Where he'd intended to go. Overwhelmed, he grabbed a table and flipped it over, screaming loudly in frustration. What the hell was going on? What the hell was messing with him. Was it a dream!? And if he was dreaming, why was everything so weird in the worst way. "Hey!" A voice said in surprise. It was almost familiar to the fighter. "We don't go throwing tables here!" It added. He looked around, and sitting on the table top nearby, was a white haired navigator. White blonde hair, bright blue eyes ... dark skin? " ... H...hyperion?" Neptune asked softly, using the ball of his left hand to dry his eyes. "Hey Neptune~" Hyperion replied, scooting over and tapping the tabletop beside him. "I... I don't understand ..." The defeated fighter replied, stalking over and sitting himself down on the table beside him. Hyperion rubbed his back," I think you do ... you just haven't admitted it to yourself yet... that's okay, it took me a long time too."

Neptune looked at the navigator. What an odd thing to say. He sighed and leaned against him, not sure really what else to do at this point. "... Don't you think it's weird that of all he people that can talk to you ... it's me?" Hyperion asked him, hoping to give him the hint he needed. "Not really... you always were a nice kid." Neptune replied. "I was ?" The navigator stressed. Neptune chuckled, and leaned up, looking at him," Yeah was... ya know before you di-" There it was. Hit him like a ton of bricks. Hyperion was dead. And then everything flooded back like the largest wave of the tsunami it crashed on him. He could see himself in the cabin, space all around. He could see through that cracked helmet, coughing and blood splattering the visor. He could barely breathe, that fluid in the chest feeling overwhelming him again. Blood was everywhere, he was basically an exploded soda. That's the thought he had in the moment. And then the bright light of the hanger when the hatch opened fully and they removed his helmet. It had stung his eyes and overwhelmed him. His head fell to one side and he told Cecil, for the first and last time that he loved him. And he had felt so tired. More tired than he'd ever been before and he closed his eyes and fell to sleep. And then he was here. The waves just wouldn't drop crashing and he felt himself crying again," ... Hyperion ... I ..." "You can call me Taylor, Arin ..." The navigator reassured him. Arin nodded and choked on his words and his pain," .... Taylor ... am I ...?" "Yes, you're dead Arin... we both are ..." Taylor said, looking away but hugging the fighter. "N..no I ... I can't be ..." Arin's words but a whisper," ... I'm ... I was supposed to ... I had to..." Taylor nodded, biting his lip, the emotion hit him too," I know ... I know so was I ... I was going to reunite my dad and my family, I was going to help all that pain go away and just have a family again ..." He looked at Arin," I was going to marry Tyrin ... Solaris ... and open a mechanic shop with my brother Troy ... err ... Raven." Arin looked at him, sniffling some," You say that like I know that name." "You call him Fang." Taylor replied. "Wait!? Necro was your bro- ... oh god and everyone's been so ... no wonder he was so destroyed by your deat-... oh my god." Arin held his chest, it was a lot to take.

" I wanted to marry Cecil. I wanted to give him the life he deserved ... I wanted to finally be free of my family ...so I could love whoever I wanted and live my life. I was actually going to take Cecil's name to help ... you know ..." Arin replied, once he'd finally calmed down he was able to talk with Taylor. Emotions still high but he could think more clearly. "Why did you want to escape so badly?" Taylor asked, rubbing his back. "My family ... is a part of the Korean Mafia ... Mob ..whatever you wanna call it ... they are the only branch of it on Mars. .. I wanted to get away from all of that ... I'm not a criminal, not a mobster, gangster or any of those other things." Arin replied," I actually planned on, if I had to, faking my death to get free of that life. And then I met Cecil ... and well ..." Arin dried his eyes on his hand again," ... It doesn't matter now." The navigator nodded, fully understanding that feeling that none of it mattered anymore. "... So ..." Arin said, looking around," Is it just us?" "I don't know..." Taylor replied," Over the year or so I've been here ... I've been pretty much alone. I see ... what I've stupidly called Fantoms ... with an F." He thought on how to word it, but he could tell the look the fighter was giving him, he understand completely why the navigator said that it was a stupid name. "Essentially ... you're the first person like myself I've seen. I see only glimpses of others. It's been that way since I got here... sometimes I hear voices, and sometimes I see people ... but always only briefly. I've been trying to see what I can manipulate outside of here. From time to time, but only when people are asleep, I've been able to touch them. From time to time I manage to knock something down, or make a computer go all fuzzy and haywire ... I've been trying to do that with the Revenge ... trying to alert my brother to the Colteron tech in his ship ... but ... I can't make it give messages. It just tells them there is a weird error, or the ship will stutter or shake." He sighed, sounding annoyed and defeated," ... but the more I practice the more I can do ..." He turned to Arin," and I'm going to teach you ... I saw you hold Cecil's hand ... I saw that Alonz almost ran into you, and then stopped and looked at you like he'd seen you. Without even trying, you were seen ... you were felt ... that tells me that maybe..." He looked away," maybe there is something of us left ... I've heard all the stories of what ghosts can do ... and if we're really ghosts ... I want ... I want us to still kind of be there for them. You know? The strongest ... the strongest thing I've ever done is I once laid down beside Fang. I was so frustrated and tired, but I could see him for the first time on purpose, not just happening upon him ... I laid beside him and I felt him. I know I felt him in my arms, and his nightmare seemed to instantly stop. And then he rested for the first time in a while. I had never felt more important than in that moment." He looked to the fighter and put a hand on his shoulder," I'm going to try to make sure you can always do the same for Cecil ... if nothing else just to let him know he's not alone." Arin smiled sadly at the navigator, nodding," Thank you..." He hugged him close and buried his face in that snow white hair. Adding softly," ... being dead still sucks though."