Deviation Actions
Literature Text
Prophet sat outside his tent, smiling as he watched the children play in the sun and dance around as Mystic and Mourner played their guitars. But despite the cheery morning he couldn’t help but feel sadness and anger in the pit of his stomach. Fallen should be there with them, safe and happy. But she wasn’t. She was still trapped inside the hell that was the state of F.E.A.R, being starved, tortured… maybe even dying. Anything could happen in there within a split second from the horror stories he heard from those he rescued. He knew it too well. He had once been captured by F.E.A.R himself. Without the help of his brothers, he would have still been there. He would have still been trapped, locked away and would never have created the legion. The thought of a world where they had never escaped made him feel sick, the kids he rescued could never have survived living within F.E.A.R’s walls.
He was about to go back inside to get out of the scorching sun when he noticed a figure running towards the camp. For a moment he thought it may have been a Zealot, a soldier of F.E.A.R, but he quickly realized who it was. He was hesitant to believe his own eyes, but when Mystic and Mourner stopped playing and ran towards the figure, leaving their guitars behind, he could feel relief and joy wash over him. He ran towards the figure too, his joy being replaced with anger as he saw Fallen was covered in injuries. He frowned and stopped before her. She looked up at him, a little confused, before he wrapped his arms around him, feeling a tear escape him and roll down his face onto her hair. “I thought I told you to wait for us” He said, not even angry or upset. Just disappointed that he couldn’t protect her.
“I’m sorry…” The girl spoke. Little did they know, it wasn’t Fallen. She wrapped her arms around him and hid her face in his shoulder, smirking to herself until she pulled away. “I saw a chance and I took it. I’m sorry”
“Don’t apologize.” Mourner smiled, giving her a hug himself. “We’re just glad you’re alive!”
“Fallen!” She looked up as Destroyer and Deviant came running, members of the legion gathering around, pulling her into a tight hug between them both.
“How did you escape?!” Deviant grinned down at her…
But it didn’t please Divine one bit. Inside she wanted to scream and burn down the oil rig they called a camp. Despite her burning hatred she smiled a little at them all as they lead her into the camp and sat around the camp fire pit, eagerly awaiting to hear her story.
“The Voice of F.E.A.R, Wretched, he came for me. He sent the Zealots to get me. One of them grabbed me and dragged me out. The other was slow in grabbing hold of me so I used my free arm to punch the one grabbing me. I smashed his mask and he fell to pieces and vanished in a puff of smoke. I ran as fast as I could, but they still had their powers. The hit me hard as they could with balls of energy and sent fire chasing me.” She told her story, the entire legion surrounding her as she spoke. “I fell, but I got back up. I heard others screaming but there was nothing I could do for them alone. I made it to the door and I was so weak I barely managed to brake it open, but I did. I was so scared I didn’t care how tired I was, I ran all the way here.”
“Wait, others? You mean they’ve got more people?” Deviant stood up quickly
“I thought we had stopped all this.” Destroyer looked around at the legion, devastated at the idea of more people captured by their worst enemy.
“We have to go back.” Prophet stated blankly. “I’m not letting them do this again. This time, The Voice of F.E.A.R is going down.” Although his voice was monotone, everyone could sense the danger in it. He was pissed. And this time, nothing was going to stop The Wild Ones from taking back the world’s freedom. Even if it meant killing Wretched.
