Viktor had little idea what happened next.

The next second was a flurry of movement. Vok'Rul surged forward with an inhuman shriek of rage, grabbing Nhafka by the throat and pinning him against the wall as if he weighed nothing. Nhafka started pleading with him senselessly, whimpering his pitiful attempts at requesting mercy.

"Did you show Kohgrash mercy?" Vok'Rul growled, squeezing the alien's throat. Viktor swore he heard a crunch. He tried getting to his feet, an unwilling sound of pain leaving his lips. He crumpled back to the ground in a heap. Vok'Rul slammed Nhafka into the wall again, shouting, "Did he deserve this!?"

Nhafka, seemingly aware that he wasn't making it out alive, chuckled wryly and spat, "Yes. That stupid animal! He deserves every shred of pain he gets." His face was full of hatred. "He should be put down, just like Korrashkka wanted. There's no training that monster." The alien lifted his hand, which still clutched the collar remote, and activated Viktor's collar.

The pain in his chest increased as his body convulsed under the waves of electricity coursing down his spine. He couldn't get air into his lungs, but he still wheezed out meaningless words.

Make it stop, he begged silently, writhing on the cold floor. Yet, he felt unbearably hot. Sweat beaded across his forehead and dripped down to his neck, only making the pain worse.

Faintly, he heard Vok'Rul scream with rage, and a wet, crunching noise accompanied it. Nhafka started screaming, then, too. The pain in his neck quickly stopped. Viktor lay twitching on the floor, trying to catch his breath. He curled in on himself to help alleviate the pain. It didn't do a damn thing.

"My hand! My fucking hand!" Nhafka wailed. Viktor lifted his head. A broken, mutilated hand laid a foot from his face. It was still moving it's fingers. The remote was crushed, weak light blinking in and out before fading completely. He looked up, fighting nausea and lightheadedness that greeted him at the action.

Vok'Rul was bloodied, face twisted into a furious sneer. He looked horrifying. Viktor had never been so happy to see him.

"The Cords, Nhafka, is this the last of them?" he hissed. Nhafka looked pale, but at his name, he went a shade paler.

"H-How do you know my name?" he spluttered fearfully. His arm was dangling limply at his side, gushing blood onto the floor.

"I know everything about you, scum. If you don't want your daughter," he paused here, leaning in closely. His teeth were sharp and gleamed in the flashing lights of the alarm. Nhafka's eyes widened fearfully. "Torashfka, to meet the same fate as yourself, I suggest you start talking. Tell me. About. The Cords." He punctuated each syllable with a hiss as he slammed the alien into the wall over and over again.

"Okay, okay!" he blubbered. Viktor dropped his head back onto the ground with a silent groan. "Fho, she's the mastermind behind all this! I swear it."

"No," Viktor tried to say. No sounds came out of his mouth. He weakly thumped his hand on the floor. It drew Vok'Rul's attention just for a moment. Yellow eyes met his for the barest of seconds before they snapped back to Nhafka's.

"The Mirror will have you, Nhafka. You and Fho will face Its judgment." Vok'Rul said, ignoring the alien's fearful wails at the prospect. He dropped the alien onto the floor before lifting his foot into the air. He slammed his foot into Nhafka's upper leg, snapping it audibly. Nhafka howled, clutching it with his remaining hand. Viktor saw white bone protruding from one side. "You will not move."

Vok'Rul turned away from the sniveling alien. He tapped something on his waist, speaking in clipped tones, "Found him. Suspect apprehended. Seventh level."

Viktor wanted to tell him about Turrkn just down the hallway, but couldn't find the energy to move his mouth to form the words. All he felt was sick, nauseating relief at being found. His heart thumped erratically, painfully pushing against his chest. The klaxan had worn off by now, and Viktor felt every single wound on his body.

Vok'Rul knelt beside him, gentle hands caressing his hair. Viktor managed to give him a weak smile before the pain in his chest started to swell. He choked, gasping for air that wouldn't come. He tried speaking, desperately wanting to ask Vok'Rul for help. He didn't know what was happening.

"Hold on, Kohgrash, hold on," Vok'Rul whispered to him. His voice was tinged with fear; a complete turnaround from his interrogation of Nhafka. Viktor's vision got blurry, and he shut his eyes tightly.

He didn't know what a heart attack felt like, but he felt like he was definitely having one. He could feel his heart sputtering and struggling to keep up with his body's needs. After klaxan and delria, there was no doubt that his body was less than perfect, right now. The shocks, the kicks, everything that had hurt him; they were all catching up to him as his adrenaline faded.

He heard shouts and yells as more aliens burst through the stairwell, but he was too tired to open his eyes. Someone's arms scooped him up, and the pain that came with it quickly made him lose his battle with consciousness. The last thing he heard was Vok'Rul's reassuring murmur that it was going to be alright.

***

Growls and clacking teeth woke him, and he realized with a start that he was still in the hallway. Someone held him in their arms, but it wasn't Vok'Rul. Fearfully, he started thrashing to get loose, horribly afraid that he had imagined the whole thing up. He tried yelling his protests, but his throat seized painfully.

"Ne corfa, Kohgrash, tas tih," someone said. He only grew more confused. Why wasn't his translator working?

His fingers were still curled around the claw tightly, almost painfully so. He didn't have enough energy to run away - frankly, he didn't know how he had enough to even stay awake right now - but he was anything but a quitter. He flung his arm up toward their face with quick brutality. Viktor felt the claw dig into tough skin, and suddenly, he was falling.

He landed on the floor heavily, and he lost consciousness once more as his head cracked on the cold concrete.

***

A bright light shone in his eyes, and he turned his head away with a weak, whispered cry. Someone said something to him, sounding like they were muffled and far away. Their voice was panicked and fast. His own panic and fear clawed up his throat, but the thought of getting away flickered away as darkness overtook him.

***

Pain was all he knew.

***

He was stationary. He couldn't move a muscle. He tried twitching his fingers, but all that did was send tremors of pain up his arm. Opening his eyes proved fruitless. He was trapped.

What was this? Another awful drug they injected into him? Maybe the delria - if that was even what it was called - was still in his system. The thought of his rescue being made up was overwhelming.

Pressure to his right had him trying to stiffen but the muscles wouldn't cooperate. Something light was pulled over him, soft and warm. A blanket, maybe? It was comforting. Whatever this delirious fantasy was, Viktor thought privately, maybe it wasn't so bad. He has been devoid of anything nice, lately.

"Prosh jok, cho'k," someone unfamiliar said to him in a kind tone. Viktor was immediately suspicious. Who would be treating him kindly in a place like this? It certainly wasn't Lilac's voice. They said something else, and Viktor felt pressure on his fingers. His body contracted his muscles without his permission, holding onto whatever this alien wanted. The pressure on his fingers stopped.

Viktor felt nothing after that. The state of limbo he was in was silent, calming. Like a lucid dream, except he wasn't really dreaming.

"Hey," someone whispered to him. Pedro, that was Pedro. Viktor wanted to ask him where he was, but his body wouldn't let him. "You've gotta wake up, soon, okay? Your alien is on the warpath."

It took a moment for Viktor to realize and process what Pedro meant by that and by the time he was going to ask for clarification, Pedro stopped talking.

Someone started crying, and Viktor realized with horror that it was his dad. Why was his dad crying? He tried his hardest to open his eyes, but they just weren't responding. Damn this drug!

He must've made some sort of movement, though, because his dad let out a feeble, little, "Viktor?" before silence fell over him again.

"Neyk, Vokkra, Kohgrash ka to comf," someone spoke quietly. A loud crash accompanied by a frustrated growl startled Viktor, but all he could do was twitch slightly. "Keti, ta ktish vra."

A loud explosive sigh, defeated. "Flakmmn, Kohgrash'mrr'k." That was Vok'Rul's voice! Viktor wanted to open his mouth and ask him if this was real or if he was just dreaming under the influence of drugs. But by the time he was done formulating what he'd like to say, Vok'Rul had stopped speaking to him, and he heard nothing else.

Someone held him in their arms. It was an alien, and they were warm. Their heartbeat was familiar, and their scent trickled into his awareness soon after. Vok'Rul was just as warm in his dreams as he was in real life. This drug they had put him on, whatever it was, was really something. But, he knew, he was going to go crazy if he didn't move his fingers soon. They were starting to ache.

Vok'Rul hummed a familiar tune, and Viktor wanted to hum along. He couldn't make any noises, though. He couldn't do much of anything under this drug, could he? It kinda sucked. Oh, well. He had the fleeting thought that he should be a little more concerned about this.

Wherever they were, it was cold. He felt himself shiver, felt Vok'Rul's claws on him tighten, and heard a hopeful, "Kohgrash?" Viktor couldn't answer, even if he really, really wanted to.

Vok'Rul's footsteps echoed wherever they were, and Viktor had to wonder where they were going. Hopefully, it was nowhere bad. If these aliens thought they could break him by convincing him that Vok'Rul was going to harm him, then they were dead wrong. Vok'Rul would never do anything to him.

The footsteps stopped, and someone spoke, low and reverent.

"Miroh, Miroh," they chanted, saying a bunch of other words that Viktor couldn't comprehend. When they finished, a heavy presence filled the room. It was otherworldly, nothing he had experienced before. It suppressed and heightened his senses all at once. He could feel every atom in his body and yet nothing at all.

It frightened him. He felt his pulse begin to race as the attention shifted and landed on him.

WHAT IS THAT VOKKRA

"Kas Kohgrash, Miroh," Vok'Rul answered, voice unaffected by the thing in the room. Viktor wanted to run away and hide.

The attention shifted away before bearing onto him more intensely. Viktor felt helpless under Its gaze.

YOU ARE NOT FROM HERE

"Miroh," Vok'Rul sounded uneasy at addressing It like this, but he continued nonetheless. His claws held onto Viktor tightly. "Kohgrash ka comf -"

HE IS AWAKE VOKKRA AND HE IS LISTENING

IT WILL HELP

Buzzing filled his head, then, overwhelming and unending. Someone, something, was tearing into his brain, digging into it, shaping it, molding it. He knew he was going to die. If Viktor could scream, he would. Pressure swelled inside his brain, filling his muscles and heart, and it swelled and swelled and

it popped.

It fizzled away, leaving only regret and sorrow in Its wake. A soothing caress drifted over his head. Viktor felt dizzy.

IT COULD NOT HELP

It was regretful. The attention slid off him, and Viktor felt grateful that he was no longer under the spotlight.

KOHGRASH WILL AWAKEN WHEN HE IS READY

WHY ARE YOU HERE VOKKRA

Vok'Rul said something, cold anger seeping into his voice. There were more footsteps, scuffling and dragging behind them, and grunts and groans reached Viktor's ears. Four thumps echoed in the room as the aliens fell to the ground. Viktor heard the familiar growling and grumbling of Korrashkka, Nhafka, and Turrkn, and his fear increased.

Its attention shifted back onto him briefly, and Viktor felt something like realization brush over his mind.

THEY HAVE HURT THE INNOCENT ONE

It wasn't quite a question, but Vok'Rul answered in the affirmative. Turrkn immediately started growling gurgled protests, which were quickly stopped by a sharp thwack that echoed through the room. Viktor felt smugness seep into his bones.

IT WILL JUDGE THEM

"Krih, krih," Viktor heard Lilac plead, voice shaky. He felt his heart jump in shock, and he struggled to wake up. He needed to tell Vok'Rul she was innocent! It had all been blackmail!

Its attention shifted back onto him, oppressive and curious.

HE IS PROTESTING THIS ONE

Vok'Rul growled something, claws nearly crushing Viktor. He desperately wished he could talk to the Mirror - because it had to be the Mirror - and Vok'Rul, just to explain what had happened. Damn this drug! Whatever nightmare this was shaping up to be was unpleasant.

YOU ARE NOT DREAMING KOHGRASH THIS IS REALITY

Reality? Viktor's heart lurched into his throat. Wait. It could read his freaking thoughts!?

YES IT CAN HOW DO YOU THINK IT JUDGES THEM

Faint amusement that wasn't his curled around his neck. He felt embarrassed.

Mirror, he thought as loudly as he could. He felt Its attention focus on a point, right on his forehead. Lilac is good! Definitely not innocent, but she didn't want all this!

If he could hold his breath, he would. The attention wavered, sloshing against his brain for a moment before turning away from him.

IT WILL JUDGE THESE FOUR

IT WILL SEE THEIR SOULS

AND IT WILL ENACT JUSTICE

The energy in the room started to swell, then, and the air in the room became hotter and hotter, heavy and oppressive. Viktor felt sweat beading across his forehead, and he struggled to breathe in the wake of the Mirror's presence. Something shimmered above them, and Viktor heard snapping and popping. Bright lights flashed, and Viktor felt awe at the muted sight he saw beneath his lids. But the pressure was building up in his chest, in his head, and Viktor's conscious thoughts dipped away.

***

The next thing he heard was faint, rhythmic beeping. He felt something itching the side of his nose, and he jerked his head to the side to get away from the tickling feeling.

And his head actually followed his command.

A loud gasp and happy exclamation startled him, but he found that he didn't have the energy to do anything other than lie there. He had no idea where 'there' was, either. The last thing he remembered was the Mirror.

Someone shook his shoulders, eliciting a loud outcry of rage and distress from the others in the room. He didn't know who the others were, exactly, but they were familiar. The shaking stopped, much to Viktor's relief.

"Come on, kid, open your eyes," Pedro begged him. Viktor wanted to tell him to shut up so he could go back to sleep. He was tired.

"Ka vra mria?" Vok'Rul's voice entered his ears. He sounded cautious and wary.

"No," his dad said regretfully, voice tight. "No thanks to your kind."

Viktor wondered what sort of drugs they had pumping through him to make him imagine his dad and Vok'Rul talking to each other like this. Wouldn't it all be in a language he understood? He wasn't even sure if he had heard Vok'Rul use these words before; he had no idea what they meant.

Warm fingers brushed over his, and Viktor felt his grip tighten. The familiar feeling of Korrashkka's claw pressed against the skin of his hand.

"Let go of it, Viktor," Nikolas said in a whisper, patting his arm. "You are safe here."

"Teyk, Kohgrash'mrr'k, kas tih," Vok'Rul confirmed.

No, something wild and feral in his brain snarled. It was a trick. Dropping his only weapon was a bad, bad, bad idea! He wouldn't let go of it!

But it was Vok'Rul, and his friends, and his dad. They wouldn't hurt him. Why would they? They loved him, all of them. And he loved them back. He wanted to see them. He was sick and tired of being trapped in his own body.

When he opened his eyes, he was greeted with sullen darkness. Still, it seemed too bright for him. He squinted painfully. Every source of light seemed to shine directly into his eyes, piercing into the back of his skull. He moved his head to the side, opening his mouth to lick his dry lips. He came to two realizations, then.

One, he was really fucking thirsty.

And two, he still had the collar around his throat.

A weak, guttural growling noise left him, sounding like a blender with bones stuck in it. It sent fire racing up his throat. Air escaped his mouth like a whistle. He fought to get his limbs under his control, to reach up and take this thing off, but they wouldn't so much as twitch. His fingers tightened around the claw, spasming slightly.

Someone burst into the room in a flurry of fabric and claws. Viktor let out a startled grunt, pressing his head into the pillow under him. Vok'Rul loomed in the doorway, frozen in shock. Viktor fought to keep his breathing under control, and he was losing, badly.

"Kohgrash... Kohgrash!" Vok'Rul whispered in delighted, relieved surprise. He quickly shut the door behind him, the light winking out. Viktor felt exhaustion dogging at his bones.

"Off," he begged him in a wheezing, scratchy whisper. He could barely hear it. If the action hadn't sent pain down his throat, he would've believed he hadn't spoken at all. "Please!"

"Flakmmn, Kohgrash," Vok'Rul said, voice full of regret. He said something else, but Viktor knew that it had been a trick, and nothing he could say could convince him otherwise. Hot tears forced their way to his eyes, and he couldn't help the angry sobs that left him. Vok'Rul would never leave him with the collar on. He wouldn't.

Vok'Rul stepped closer, and Viktor screamed angrily, straining his throat. His arm flew upward, only bending at the elbow. Wires and tubes were attached to him there, and he wanted them out. They were giving him delria, making him believe Vok'Rul was here when he really wasn't.

Claws caught his arm and slowly pushed it back down to the bed. His fingers pressed against his own, trying to pry the claw out of his hands.

"Krih, Kohgrash'mrr'k, krih 'blh byr," Vok'Rul begged him in a whisper. "Tas tih, Kohgrash. 'blh byr."

"I wanna go home," was the last thing Viktor choked out before his head hit the pillow and the fight left him. His eyes fluttered shut, and for the first time in a while, he actually slept.

***

Vocabulary:

'blh: let, release

byr: go

flakmmn: sorry, informal

jok: morning

'k: little, usually added onto the end of a name or object

ka to comf: is too ill, or is too sick

krih: please

ktish: scared

mria: awake

'mrr: my/mine, usually added onto the end of someone's name (Kohgrash'mrr)

neyk: stop, no

ne corfa: be careful

prosh: good

tas: you're

teyk: yes

tih: okay, alright

vra: he, him