━━━━༻ ♠ ༺━━━━ terminate 01101111 ━━━━༻ ♠ ༺━━━━

Even though Conan and Leon looked so similar, they couldn't be any more different. Leon's unkempt hair and silver eyes gave him the look of both a watchful sentinel and a bloodthirsty killer, and while Conan possessed the same features, they looked angelic and pure on him. The younger Matthews' silver eyes were like that of an innocent puppy's. A sliver of the moon cut out of the sky. It was hard to believe the two were of the same bloodline, especially with the scars decorating Leon's skin. The one on his neck was the most eye-catching.

(Y/n) was able to catch a breather once the tall male left the room, presumably towards the pantry to get some snacks for the two. Conan was struggling to pick up a large cushion. He kept falling over with how big it was, so he resorted to sliding it towards the chairs they had set up for support. His eyebrows were furrowed cutely in concentration as he heaved the large cushion to a standing position and leaned it against one of the chairs. He placed his hands on his hips, a satisfied grin appearing on his face.

His head swiveled towards the (h/c)-haired girl who was working on the other side of the fort. "How's your side going," he said, putting back on his fake posh accent. "I e-expect this to be down by sundown or you're not getting paid!"

Never thought I'd enter the corporate world so early, (Y/n) stifled a laugh. She teasingly saluted him. "I'm on it, captain!" She began stacking up the larger pillows and cushions around and on the chairs as Conan nodded in approval. The boy had somehow found a hard hat that was too big for him and was wearing it with a self-important gleam in his eye.

"Chop, chop!" He clapped his hands sharply. "Time is um, monkey!"

"Time sure is monkey," (Y/n) bemusedly agreed while arranging the smaller pillows neatly on the interior of the fort. "Can you get me the blankets from the couch, captain?"

Conan huffed and puffed out his chest. "Bold of you to be ordering me around, but okay. I'll do it for the pillow fort!"

He padded over to the couch and returned with an armful of blankets that obscured his face. Not having enough limbs to carry the rest, he had also draped a blanket over his head. Now he was stumbling in circles blindly as he tried to direct himself back to the pillow fort in progress.

"Mayday, mayday!" The boy shrieked as he nearly tripped on a trailing blanket. "A fog is on us! I can't see anything!"

He screeches in fake terror as his limbs flailed about under the large quilt and he went down with a quiet "oof!" (Y/n) quirked an eyebrow at his antics and threw a pillow at him.

"Does this mean I'm the captain now?"

He sat up immediately and tugged the quilt off his head to reveal his pouting face. "No way. You can be the cleaner-upper though."

Leon chose that moment to reenter the room, his hands full with two small glass cups of what at first glance looked like ice cream, but on closer inspection, was actually vanilla pudding. Darn him, he got my hopes up, she thought bitterly.

The desserts, to his credit, were finely decorated to the point she could've mistaken them to be the work of a patisserie. It alternated between layers of white-gold pudding and snow-white whipped cream that could be seen through the pristine glass. The topmost layer of the pudding was decorated with a small swirl of whipped cream and sliced strawberries, finished with a cluster of blueberries and two chocolate wafer rolls stuck into it.

It still looked like ice cream.

He handed the first to his brother, followed by a spoon, both of which the little boy accepted happily with shining eyes. "Yay, pudding!" The boy cheered as he shrugged off the quilt that he had been pretending was a swamp monster. A satisfied smile spread across his face as he sank into a large cushion and began making quick work of the sweet treat.

Leon sighed and lightly cuffed his brother across the head. "You didn't wash your hands, buddy," he scolded as he handed the other pudding to (Y/n), who accepted it after some initial hesitation. He wasn't looking at her so he didn't notice it.

"Idiot, you got some on your face." He pulled out a pack of tissues from his pocket and used one to wipe the little boy's cheek.

Conan scowled at the interruption in his pudding-eating marathon. "Fineee, I'll go wash my hands." He set the glass of pudding down in an exaggerated fashion, wiping away one last tear from his eyes and casting a sorrowful look at the dessert before dashing towards the kitchen.

He stopped at the doorway to narrow his eyes at the two teens. "If you eat it, I'll bazooka you, okay?"

"I might eat it if you're not going to wash your hands," Leon said, making a show of sliding his eyes to the pudding and slowly reaching for it. "I only made two and I'm getting pretty hungry..."

"Gack! I'll be right back! Soldier, protect my loot from the evil dragon please!" Then the boy was off, running towards the sink to quickly wash his hands. Leon shook his head, his unkempt hair tumbling over his eyes. His expression hardened as he turned towards the (h/c)-haired female who was busying herself with smushing a pillow.

She refused to look at him, even when his intense gaze was pressuring her to. From the corner of her eyes, she could see the hesitation on his face as he clenched his jaw, debating about something.

Whatever it was, the inner conflict was quickly resolved because he chose to break the tense silence. "You..." he began slowly as if she was teetering at the edge of a cliff and his very words could push her off. He tried a different approach. "How is the f—uh, Fujikawa treating you?"

None of your bloody business. "Great!" She said with faux enthusiasm. "Though I think he's still with Tristan right now. Those two can sure go on and on when together, don't you think? Well, as long as they don't push each other off a building, it's fine."

Leon caught the hint of hatred laced into her tone and his eyes widened. Pain flickered to life in those stardust orbs, but one passive-aggressive smiley from the (h/c)-haired girl sent his way shut him up.

"Who am I kidding, they wouldn't do that." She continued on with the same smile plastered onto her face and an airy tone. "Kieran would probably dangle Tristan off the ledge for kicks, laugh his arse off, before cutting the rope. Sounds familiar, hmm?"

"I—That's..." Leon's eyes fell to the floor as he looked anywhere but at her. She watched this with a growing fury bubbling up in her stomach. "I...I didn't want you to find out this way. But (Y/n), my intentions were never to hurt you—"

"Hurt me?" (Y/n) interrupted with an Oscar-winning show: widening eyes, shocked gasp, and a small, disbelieving smile. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I was talking about Kieran and Tristan, remember? What are you going on about?"

His mouth opened and closed as he struggled for words; Leon Matthews was never one for words, precisely why he liked music so much. His hands curled into fists on his knees as he glared at the ground in front of him, guilt and his resolve clashing clearly across his face.

But (Y/n) didn't stay long to watch his guilt show. She finished off the walls of the pillow fort by draping the largest blankets across the top, completing the walls and roof in one go. She ignored the black-haired male and his searching look as she piled some of the smaller pillows into the fort and slipped inside.

Only once she was out of his field of vision did the taut muscles in her body come undone. She felt like a wound-up doll the whole time she was in his presence. Her tether could snap at any moment and then she would've lost all control over the hate welling up in her chest, forcing her to make another foolish decision out of anger. She also wasn't very keen on stabbing Leon in front of his brother.

She calmed her erratic heartbeat by leaning back into the pillows and closing her eyes. She willed herself to calm down by taking in slow inhales and exhales. Happy thoughts, (Y/n). Happy thoughts.

As much as (Y/n) tried to distract herself with mental images of a pillow fantasy and the newest high-tech computer parts her poor wallet could never afford, the only thoughts that appeared in her mind were dark ones. Bloody ones. Images of her gazing through a future (Y/n)'s eyes as she raced towards the shocked black-haired male to plunge a knife into his chest.

Not that it would ever happen. (Y/n) disliked messy things like that. She'd rather electrocute him to death or use some elaborate contraption like in Jigsaw than do the deed with a weapon.

She didn't want blood on her hands. She promised Reese.

But perhaps that was too late for her now.

Conan returned with his now cleaned hands. He didn't seem to notice the hostile atmosphere as he dove straight towards his pudding. "Good, none of you stole it!" Only after a spoonful of the delectable treat did he notice that the (h/c)-haired girl wasn't there. "Eh? Where did half—uh, (Y/n) go?"

"I'm here." She pushed the blanket door lightly aside and poked her head out, pointedly not looking in Leon's direction. "I finished the fort, captain. You ready to move into our new base?"

"Really?" Conan fist-pumped the air, nearly dropping his pudding in the process. "Oh, oops. Nearly dropped it." He joined her inside the fort and plopped down into one of the many pillows. He rested his legs on the fluffy blanket the structure was built on. And soon enough after a whole cup of pudding and some cuddling with the pillows, the little boy was sound asleep. The soft sounds of his quiet breaths filled the fort.

"Is he asleep?" Leon asked hesitantly from outside the protective blanket and pillow walls. She could see the silhouette of his form outside as he reached towards the fort as if to open it but changed his mind at the last second.

"Sound asleep." (Y/n) eyed the boy with jealousy. I want to be asleep right now too. But nooo, I have an overgrown murderous zebra to deal with. She crawled out of the pillow fort carefully lest she sent the whole thing crashing down. An image of her suffocating the black-haired male with a pillow popped into her mind but she shook it off before her homicidal tendencies got too much.

She started for her room but Leon stopped her, grabbing her wrist before she could run off. "Are you really with that bastard?" He questioned, his eyes searching her face. A trace of anger snuck into his voice. "I don't believe it. There's no f*cking way you'd willingly be with that a**hole."

(Y/n) had to take a second to wipe her darker thoughts from her face and put her smiling mask back on before she was safe to turn around. "Why is it so hard to believe? He's a good guy when you get to know him, which you obviously never bothered to do. All you do is jump to conclusions. Thanks for being worried, but no thanks."

He still refused to let her go. Anger flashed in his stormy eyes. "Are you asking me to stop worrying after you?" He growled. "Because there's no f*cking way that's happening. I can't sleep in peace knowing you're going to get in some sh*t again at any time. You keep f*cking saying you're fine and sh*t but that's obviously a lie because again and again—I come so f*cking close to losing you!"

"None of that would've happened in the first place if you people learned what 'consent' and 'free will' meant," she snapped while doing her best to try and free herself from his ever-tightening grip on her wrist. "I don't need your bloody worry when all it results in is one of my best friends' deaths! So let me go, you twit, or—"

"Or what?" He tugged her closer to him. She nearly fell over at the jolting motion, but his strong grip kept her upright. She was close enough to see his maelstrom of eyes that looked like they were cutting into her like knives. "Or you'll run off to Jay f*cking Kim and get your a** into deeper sh*t? 'Cause that sh*t's already happened, (Y/n), and I'd sooner snap his neck than let it happen again—"

"You're no better than Tristan with all your threats," she scoffed, cutting him off short. "I have no bloody idea why you're fine with listening to that prick and doing his dirty work but frankly, I don't care. I don't bloody care as long as you don't drag me and my friends into it, but you have. So you have no right to be pissed about me not wanting to go along with the crap you guys are pulling."

His expression tightened and he looked like he was close to snapping her wrist with how tight he was holding it. "And that crap you call it is keeping you safe, (Y/n)! Since you don't f*cking know what that means—"

"Obviously, since I'd never have to deal with this stuff if Tristan's psychopath of a dad didn't have a sacrifice fetish or have a thing for Satan! Or if you lot didn't decide to go ahead and kill my friends."

She knew she'd gone too far but her rage was simmering past the boiling point. She was too far gone to care anymore. "Ring a bell? No? Then I'll spell it out for you. Your patricidal sh*t is fine and all with me but you've crossed a line. Heck, why are you even going along with this? You're only putting your brother in danger—"

"I know what's best for my brother," Leon hissed, his eyes wild with anger. "Don't f*cking assume I don't, (Y/n). Don't f*cking test me either. I don't want to hurt you but if you keep this sh*t up, God help me but I will."

"God? Rich coming from you. You could be a part of that killing scheme for all I bloody know!"

"Even if I was, that's none of your concern—"

"None of my concern?" She laughed hollowly and shook her head. "You're expecting me to wait in a room quietly for God knows how long while my best friend rots away in the basement? Not to mention you've killed at least one of my friends, if not more. And you did that—for what? What is Tristan going to give you? Money? Security for your brother?"

"You don't understand a f*cking thing," Leon growled. "I'm not—"

"Oh yeah? Enlighten me then. What is so important that you're okay with letting a bunch of your classmates die—"

"Because I'm f*cking in love with you, (Y/n)!"

The answer came out of him like a roar. It burst out of his chest as if it had clawed its way up to the surface from the heart. It might as well have with the pained look on his face. The room was quiet save for their heavy, anger-ensued breathing. His grip on her wrist slacked and his eyes rose back up to her face.

"I realized I was in love with you when all my decisions began to center around you," he continued in a soft tone that was unlike him. "And I'd be damned if I let anything happen to you after that. This is the only way I can protect you. I—You have to realize Fortuna's more f*cked up than you think. The murders aren't just limited to the Game—you could've been killed in or outside of school at any time and I wouldn't even have a f*cking clue. But if you're here...in this dorm where I can keep an eye on you...I can actively make sure you're not in harm's way."

She didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Her free hand was starting to burn from her tight grip on the key. The metal pressed harshly into her skin and left angry red welts and little droplets of scarlet blood behind, yet she barely felt the pain.

Instead, (Y/n) shook her head and shrugged her hand free. This time, Leon let her go. "I-I can't do this anymore," she said, turning her back to him and raising her hands. "Now the story's changing. Whatever, I'm going to go—"

"Go where? Back to that sh*tshow?" The tenderness that had begun to melt into Leon's eyes was gone as soon as it came, and his world-ending anger was back. "To f*cking Fujikawa? No f*cking way."

He reached for her but she stepped back quickly, holding her hands in between them like a barrier. "Don't touch me," she spat. "And stay away from me. Your 'love' hurts."

But as she turned to leave, a glass cup smashed into the wall by her head, making her flinch back with a shout. She stumbled back around to see the black-haired male with his hand outstretched, his eyes like vicious flashes of lightning against a stormy sky. They were lit with a fuse, by gasoline she had poured with her own two hands. She felt her heart hammer and her survival instincts kick in as she made a tactical retreat.

"You're not going anywhere," he snarled, stalking towards her and slamming the door shut so hard the frame rattled, splinters of wood raining down around them. "I wasn't f*cking around when I said I'd have to force you if that's what it takes to make you f*cking behave."

(Y/n) swallowed her fear and glared at his chest in front of her, not brave enough to look into his gaze. "That's just proving my—"

She was cut off with a loud slam as his fist collided into the wall next to her. A soft crack that sounded far too loud to her ears followed. His fist stayed there, blood slowly oozing down from his torn knuckles and onto the wall. His breathing was just as torn and ragged as his wounded hand was, echoes of the war that raged within him.

Her intentions were anything but innocuous even as she kept herself perfectly still, her eyes trained on the fist right next to her head, narrowly missing her. What if he had been aiming at her all along? And if not...who knew when his fists would begin raining on her? (Y/n) was never athletic to begin with; she would never have been able to hold up under his strength.

"F*ck," she heard Leon swore under his breath with barely-restrained anger as his shadow over her suddenly disappeared. His back was turned to her as he moved away while running a hand through his hair in a frustrated manner. He didn't go far, though. Only a few steps away.

Whatever Leon was doing, (Y/n) wasn't about to stick around long enough to find out. She'd leave him to deal with his inner conflicts herself. She quietly slid against the wall and closer to the door. And with one sharp jerk, she yanked the door open and tried to escape through it. But a firm hand yanking her back into the living room put an end to that real quick.

"Let me go, you sick fudge!" She yelled, attempting to headbutt him. But he was way taller than she was so that didn't work out very well.

"You keep trying to f*cking escape," Leon growled, holding her in place against his body, his hands akin to iron handcuffs around her wrists. "You're always talking about it, thinking about, dreaming about it. Try all you f*cking want but there's no place for you to run to."

Rage twisted her features into one that looked like a twisted, darker version of herself. Her eyes flashed with hate. "I can name plenty of places that are better than here, you pig."

"If you f*cking say the f*ckboy's name"—his hand reached up to tip her chin back so their eyes were meeting, his thumb resting a cut on her cheek she didn't know she had—"I'm going to have to add another name to the kill count. Don't f*cking test me, (Y/n)."

She didn't plan on doing so. In the moments that followed her recapture, she had managed to subside her rage a little, allowing her to think clearly again. She swept aside her murderous thoughts to the dusty corners of her mind. The reasonable part of her told her to not act impulsively even as her foot was beginning to really look forward to cracking some kneecaps today.

The key sitting in her hand that had spurred on her anger also calmed her down. She slipped her hand into her pocket without the male noticing for safekeeping. The feeling of the metal—now warm from her hand holding it so tightly—grounded her. It kicked out her temper and welcomed back in the rational thoughts.

You've just managed to get the things you need, she told herself. Don't mess it up now.

As the red haze crept away from her vision, the angry numbness melted off her skin, and only then did she feel the pain. (Y/n) winced as a sharp ache speared through her cheek, presumably from the cut inflicted from the cup Leon had thrown. Her wrists were also throbbing with two freshly purpled bruises decorating the skin like malformed bracelets. Or handcuffs. Both works.

Something passed over the bright-eyed male's face as his gaze, once intense and glaring like lasers, swept over the planes of her face with a feather-light softness. (Y/n) looked away from him and towards the broken glass shards littering the floor like a terrible hedge of flowers. For once she wished Kieran was here instead of him. And how was Conan still asleep amid all this? Not to mention the fact that even though Tristan always seemed to show up at every brawl in this manor, he was nowhere to be found this time.

On second thought, that was a good thing. If she saw the blue-haired male's face again today, she wouldn't be held accountable for whatever rampage ensued.

He realized that he was still crushing her arms in his grip and guilt flickered across his face. But the sight of the stubbornness in her jaw and the fiery glint in her eyes, his rage rekindled and he didn't let go.

"F*ck this sh*t." He began walking towards a destination only he knew, tugging her along with him. "Come with me. We're going to pay that disgusting f*ck a visit."

He was definitely talking about Kieran, but (Y/n) had been hoping to sneak away and remain forgotten. This was not a part of the plan.

"I think not!" She scowled as she tried to free herself. She might as well have been pushing at a wall for all she tried. And she had to jog to keep up with his long strides. "Dammit, Leon, let go of me!"

He ignored her and continued walking. He basically dragged her up the steps and her knee collided painfully with the marble, causing a pained hiss to escape her lips. But he didn't notice and kept on wordlessly stalking towards the white-haired male's floor, leaving behind a trail of storms in his wake.

"Leon!" She tried again, digging her heels into the ground to no avail. "Ow—that hurts!"

Again, his ears were deaf to her pleas. They arrived on the third floor and he ripped the door at the end of the hallway open, revealing a stunned-looking Kieran and Tristan.

The white-haired male was on his feet in a flash. "Princess? What are you—" His eyes dropped to Leon's death grip on the (h/c)-haired girl, whose face was filled with pain. This time, real anger entered the flippant male's face, and his shock dissolved into a glare. "Leon, you son of a b*tch—let her go!"

Leon did let her go but he wasn't done just yet. Before Tristan could cut in a word, he was on Kieran at a lightning-fast speed. Kieran crashed into the bookshelf behind him, shaking the frame and causing the books to rain down around him. A deafening crack echoed through the room as Leon's fist collided with the side of Kieran's face, his other fisted around his collar.

"You're the only son of b*tch around here," the black-haired male seethed, pressing Kieran against the bookshelf. "Whatever you did to her, it sure as f*ck was dirty. I'll f*cking kill you!"

Kieran spat out the blood in his mouth and returned his glare, along with a fist to Leon's gut. "Not if I do it first, ばかやろう," he snarled, surprising everyone in the room, even Leon. He wasn't the angry type; he was always the last in the group to get furious. "You've bloody hurt her. If that doesn't deserve a death sentence, I don't know what does."

He turned his angry eyes to Tristan. "This is exactly why I've been saying this whole time. You sh*theads only know how to hurt her; I'm the one who can take the pain away."

"What you've been saying?" Tristan looked about ready to pull out a gun and shoot the guy. "You've only been saying nonsense—"

"That's what you think. None of you really care about her but you pretend to. That 'nonsense' was me trying to make you stop, Tristan. I was fine with all this until you went too far."

At Tristan's look of shock, a cruel sneer twisted Kieran's lips. "Oh, yes. I know exactly what the f*ck you did to her. And that's why I asked you to let her go. I can handle the pain of seeing her go, but I can't stand her being in pain."

Leon was recovered from the blow to his gut and he looked anything but amused. "You f*cking hypocrite. You were the one most excited about all this sh*t when he brought it up, and now you're trying to act like some saint? All you'll become is the blood on my fists when I beat the sh*t out of you!"

He started for the golden-eyed male again, his fist swinging towards him until a chilling voice stopped the two in their tracks.

"Take another step, Matthews," Tristan growled. (Y/n)'s eyes widened at what she saw in his hands. "I dare you."

The blue-haired male was perfectly poised with a haunting calm in his face, looking like a Romanesque war hero even with the gleaming silver gun in his hand. He leveled it evenly at the back of Leon's skull. And he didn't look like he was kidding around; the dull hardness in his cerulean-glass orbs proved that.

"Or what, you're going to shoot me?" Leon stared into the barrel, unfazed save for the anger radiating off him. "I'd like to see you try, you p*ssy."

Tristan's eyes narrowed as Leon took a step closer. "I'm warning you, Matthews. There are many places I can shoot you that will incapacitate you, but not kill you. And I know all of them."

"You're f*cking funny, Knight, you know that?"

But before (Y/n) could hear the impending gunshot or witness Leon's possible demise, a hand grabbed her arm out of nowhere and began tugging her away. "This way!" Her savior said, his golden hair bouncing wildly on his head as they ran.

This time, however, (Y/n) didn't put up a fight. She let him take her far away from the other three and towards somewhere she knew was definitely safer than back there.

Anywhere was.

TEMPUS:DORM ━━━━━༻ ❀ ༺━━━━━ ℓαtєя

"Bazinga!"

Night fell over the Tempus Dormitory when the little Conan finally woke up with a shout. He'd been dreaming about fighting a supervillain with his superhero friends when he was pulled out of his long nap. He looked around drowsily, taking in his surroundings with initial confusion. This wasn't his bed. Neither was it his brother's bedroom.

He crawled out of the pillow fort. "Big brother?" His voice bounced through the dark room with no one there to receive it. Leon wasn't there. He tilted his head in confusion before shrugging. His brother was probably just doing his big kid stuff again. He did that a lot.

Conan pulled on his sneakers before daring to dart into the dark hallways. He looked at the stairs and then at the elevator right next to it. His brother always told him to use the stairs and only use the elevator when he was around, but his brother wasn't here, was he? That meant Conan could do whatever he wanted!

Until bedtime came, of course.

The black-haired boy covered his mouth with his hands to muffle an excited giggle. Disobeying his brother and creating mischief was always an exciting prospect for him. Leon always kept a watchful eye on him and as much as Conan loved his brother, he was still a kid. And his instincts told him to roll around in the mud even when Leon tried to teach him what germs were.

Conan pressed the "up" button and waited for the elevator to arrive. He'd never been in the dormitory elevator before, but it looked really pretty and he's always wanted to try it. He also always had the urge to press every single button in the elevator in the mall when he was with his brother, but Leon never let him.

But he could now!

A soft ding rang in the darkness as the elevator doors slowly slid open, revealing an inviting chamber with warm lights. Conan hopped into it gleefully and turned his attention to the number pad. Maybe he could finally sneak into Kieran's room this time, or even Tristan's! He's met all three of them through his brother's reluctant introductions.

Conan found Tristan to be a little scary. The blue-haired male either ignored him or gave him that Tristan look. Conan swore the guy was actually Jack Frost in human form. Kieran was nice and funny, even if his brother didn't like him. Conan still liked playing with the white-haired male when Leon's back was turned.

And then there was Jaehyun. To be honest, the boy's never seen the blond around much. After their brief introductions, Conan's never seen him again. Which was a pity, since Jaehyun looked like he'd be a great friend...

Back to the elevator. Conan grinned mischievously as he raised his hand, ready to press all the buttons when one of them caught his eye. It was the basement. He frowned. Brother says Tristan lives on the fifth floor, he thought in confusion, and Jaehyun lives on the fourth. Kieran lives on the third floor and brother and I are on the second. The first floor is the common area, and no stairs are leading down. I didn't know we had a basement.

Then his face lit up. Maybe it's like a secret floor! Maybe it's where brother and his friends keep all their secret agent gear! Maybe I'll find a portal to Narnia there!

Excited, he pressed the button for the basement and for the elevator doors to close. As they did, the boy could barely contain his excitement at the prospect of finally becoming privy to his brother's strange secretiveness with his school. If the basement turned out to be some boring storage room, however, he was going to be really disappointed.

The elevator began to descend. Conan hummed as he stood in the middle of the elevator with his arms spread and pretending he was in space. He rocked back on his heels as the elevator slowly began dropping to the basement.

And then suddenly, the lights began to flicker on and off. The elevator began to rattle unnervingly as all sorts of sounds erupted around the startled boy; metal on metal, the grinding of gears, and the screeching of machinery.

"W-what is happening?" Conan trembled in fear and staggered back into one of the lift's cold glass and metal walls, pressing himself against it. His eyes darted around from side-to-side as the lights continued to flicker. The noises grew louder and the elevator began to jerk harder, knocking him to the ground. Something snapped and the elevator began to fall at groundbreaking speed.

Conan shrieked as he was thrown forward into the door and then sent tumbling back. The elevator buttons turned on and off erratically and then—

An explosion. And then everything went quiet.