It hurt.

His entire body felt like he'd been trampled by an entire herd of rabid pigs. In fact, it felt like one was sitting on him right now. Its butt must be planted on his chest, while its front hooves dug gleefully into his throat. Or maybe he had it backwards, and its butt was squashing his airway and its hooves were kicking at his ribs.

Somewhere far away, a raven croaked. It sounded familiar, comforting even. Jett's fingers twitched. Why couldn't it have been a raven sitting on him instead of a pig? He liked ravens. Not pigs.

The raven coughed, a raspy hacking sound. If he didn't know better, Jett would have thought it was laughing at him. Wings burst into motion, whispering through the cool air before sharp talons dug into his forehead.

After a beat of silence, a higher pitched caw was blasted right up his nostrils. Jett jerked, eyes flying open. He threw one hand upwards to smack away the offending noisemaker, but the bird on his head deftly hopped forward with perfect timing. As it landed on his chest, Jett successfully managed to slap himself in the forehead.

"Gah!" Scowling, he started to rise. He had gotten himself up onto his elbows when he heard it.

A soft sound came from a few feet away. It was a gentle, barely audible noise, like a quiet exhale or a shift of movement. To Jett's ears, it may as well have been a gunshot.

He instantly grew still, as if he'd been turned into an icicle. Only his eyes moved, slowly shifting towards the source of the sound. He didn't want to look. He didn't want to see what was there. But he wasn't given a choice. His gaze moved without his will, as if dragging themselves deeper and deeper across a bottomless pit of mud.

The darkness of night surrounded him, so at first, he saw nothing. There was only the prickly grass beneath him and the cool breeze ruffling through his hair.

Then a single yellow glowstick burst into existence a few feet away, illuminating the surrounding area. Jett saw that he was in a open, grassy field. Various rocks dotted the ground, as if someone had dropped an entire mountain from somewhere high up and it had shattered into hundreds of pieces upon impact.

The glowstick was tossed towards Jett. He flinched as it arced towards him, but it merely fell by his feet. Its light made his suit glow bright. And Jett suddenly got the feeling that he was incredibly visible. It wasn't really the fact that he see himself very clearly despite it being so dark out.

No, it was more the fact that he felt like something was staring at him. Like he was the prey. A tiny, helpless rabbit beneath the hungry stare of a prowling wolf.

Jett's gaze shifted past the light of the glowstick. A dark shape crouched just beyond its reach. His heart fluttered. The shape stretched upwards in eerie silence. His breath caught. His arms were shaking, threatening to give way and let him crash to the ground once more.

The shape took a step forward. That was when Jett realized it was a man. And as it came even closer, he realized that he was wrong. It wasn't just a man. There were wingspikes along the arms, so it was a flyer.

Who -?

The flyer stepped beside the glowstick. His head tilted downwards, allowing the glowstick's light to reach his face.

Jett saw that face. His own black eyes were captured by an identical pair. Horror rose even as he managed to stammer, "Y-you!"

Thin lips curved into a cruel smile. "Hello, Jett."

Jett's body burst into motion without his permission, scurrying backwards as quickly as it could. The movement hurt, but he hardly noticed through the adrenaline rushing through his veins like ice. The only thing that mattered was getting as far away from that monster as fast as possible.

Unfortunately, his escape was cut short when he backpedaled into a huge rock behind him. His head struck first, followed by his shoulders and back. The shock to his brain dazed him for a second and he spent a dizzy second realizing that he had come to a stop. After that came a raging fire coursing though his entire ribcage. He could only groan and press an arm across his torso. His body instinctively curled in itself, trying to protect its injury.

No, no, no! Not this, not now!

"Ah?" A smooth baritone sounded nearby. It was far too close, yet Jett wasn't in any condition to make another move. Footsteps crunched the grass until they stopped right in front of him. "What's wrong?"

Every nerve in Jett's body cringed as the flyer crouched before him. There was a shuffle of movement, before Jett heard the familiar snap of a glowstick being activated. He flinched, then squeezed his eyes closed even as he felt its light fall upon his face.

He could hear his own ragged breaths in the silence that followed. The presence of the flyer loomed over him. It felt like he was being smothered. Jett grit his teeth. Each breath felt like sandpaper was being dragged around inside his chest, but he'd rather have that then this monster next to him!

A gloved hand suddenly gripped his jaw. Startled, Jett's eyes flew open, even as his head was jerked to the side. Black eyes met his own.

"You can't hide from me." Ra'Skevvor said. That horrific smile still played about his lips.

Jett trembled. Sweat had dampened his hair at this point, and although he wasn't even the slightest bit cold, he couldn't stop trembling from the icy chill that seeped within.

"Hmm." Ra'Skevvor's gaze left Jett's face, trailing downwards to where Jett was desperately trying to soothe the aggravated injury in his torso. "Are you injured?"

Jett stiffened. He tried to draw away from the Kairg leader's gaze, but frankly, he was stuck between a rock and an insane, crazy-powerful flyer. There was nowhere for him to go. "I - I'm fine," he forced out between clenched teeth.

Ra'Skevvor's smile widened. "Truly? You managed to escape Gray unscathed? Then I must commend you. His strength is quite extraordinary. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if he becomes the replacement Twelve."

Replacement Twelve? Jett's eyes widened. Gray? One of the Twelve? No way. There was no possible way that that lazy man would even agree to such a thing. The very idea was unbelievable.

"He wouldn't," Jett managed to say, even though Ra'Skevvor was still holding his face in an iron-strong grip. "You're lying."

"Am I? Then we shall have to see. Now," Ra'Skevvor reached towards Jett's chest with his free hand, "Let's take a look at this."

Jett saw that hand reaching for him. His mind instantly flashed towards that one horrifying moment on top of the Forbidden Wall. He remembered when Ra'Skevvor had stepped close to Raven, close enough to embrace him. And then the Kairg leader had stabbed Raven through the chest. Raven, who was his own flesh and blood son, who was the strongest flyer that Troit had, who was Jett's teacher and protector and brother all in one. Raven, who was the best thing this world had to offer. And Ra'Skevvor killed him.

Jett saw that hand reaching for him. And he recoiled violently, bucking against the other hand that gripped his jaw. "Don't touch me!"

Ra'Skevvor's eyes narrowed just a fraction, the only hint of a warning that Jett would ever get. Pain exploded throughout Jett's entire world, and he blacked out.

He came to a short while later. Only now he was laid flat out on his back. Both glowsticks had been placed on either side of him, providing light for Ra'Skevvor who now leaned over him.

Upon realising this, Jett's eyes grew wide. Before he could even do anything, Ra'Skevvor laid a heavy hand upon his ribcage and pressed. "Don't move," he commanded. There was a terrifying warning laced throughout each syllable.

If that wasn't enough to convince Jett that staying still was in his best interest, then the white sparks exploding throughout his vision was. His body would probably shrivel up like raisin and die if Ra'Skevvor kept applying pressure to his poor ribs.

It was somewhere around that time that Jett realized that his upper body was bare. Ra'Skevvor had stripped away the top half of his white flyer suit. Head flopping to the side, Jett caught sight of his chest armor laying a few feet away where it had been discarded. Right next to it were a few dark shapes. Jett recognized one of them the hilt of his sword.

Not just his armor, but Ra'Skevvor had taken away his weapons, too! His eyes burned. Never before in his life had he felt so helpless. Something cold and dark uncoiled, and slowly ate away the fear. Jett moved his head back so he could see what Ra'Skevvor was doing.

The flyer had removed his hands from Jett and was now sifting through a rectangular case that he had brought with him. He withdrew a small metallic tube and a featureless plastic box that small enough to sit inside the palm of his hand.

These, he set on the ground by Jett's thigh. Then he started removing his gauntlets. Jett watched this silently. Once the gauntlets were removed, Ra'Skevvor was able to pull off his gloves. Like the majority of his suit, they were an ugly mottled color. A mix of dull greens and browns and grays. The camouflage was more suited for a forested area rather than a city or the current dry desert-land that the Kairg's main camp was situated in. But Jett supposed it didn't matter -- he'd seen the Kairg turn invisible before.

Ra'Skevvor took the tube and squeezed some kind of ointment onto his fingertips. Then he leaned down and began rubbing it on Jett's ribcage. Most of the area was a giant ugly bruise, and it was puffy and swollen.

"The Talon was holding back," Ra'Skevvor spoke as he rubbed in the ointment. "If he had used his full strength, your entire chest would have been caved in and you would be dead." He gave a brief chuckle, as if the thought amused him.

Jett narrowed his eyes, even as he clenched his jaw. Ra'Skevvor's touch made his skin crawl. If it were possible, he was sure it would have crawled off his body, dug a hole, and jumped inside just to escape. Even so, he couldn't deny that whatever it was that the flyer was smearing on him, it felt good. It had a numbing effect, soothing away a lot of the pain and discomfort.

"Fortunately for you, you just have a cracked rib at the most. You'll heal." Ra'Skevvor finished with the ointment, and put it away. Then he picked up the small plastic box and opened it.

Jett couldn't see what was inside. It was probably for the best. Ra'Skevvor took something from the box, then grabbed Jett's chin once again. It didn't take much effort on his part to pry it open before he stuffed whatever he took from the box into Jett's mouth.

Forcing Jett's jaw shut, he held it in place firmly. "Swallow."

Jett stared up into those cold, expressionless eyes. He had no intention of obeying. He could feel the small, hard pellet resting on his tongue. It tasted bitter. Who knew what it was for? He wanted nothing from this man. If he thought that he was going to swallow whatever random poison he gave him, then he was insane.

Surprisingly, Ra'Skevvor chuckled at his stubbornness. "Very well. Take your time. I wanted to have a chat with you anyway."

Without taking his hand away from Jett's face, he moved, settling into a comfortable sitting position by Jett's side. Apparently, he had no intention of moving until the pill was swallowed.

"I was quite surprised, you know," Ra'Skevvor said, his tone friendly and conversational. It didn't fool Jett in the slightest. "I didn't think you would choose to leave Troit of your own accord. "

Saliva was building in Jett's mouth, stimulated into existence by the hard pellet pressing against his tongue. Jett refused to obey the urge to swallow the excess fluid. He'd rather let it dribble out of his mouth and get all over Ra'Skevvor's hand.

"You've done well, little son of mine." Ra'Skevvor glanced down at him and smiled. The praise made Jett feel nauseated. Sick. Angry. Because nothing on this world would ever make him that man's son. "I only regret that I did not know of you sooner. We could have done many things together, you and I. Still, you are here now."

What is this 'we'? Jett tried to glare, but felt the swish of saliva in his mouth. His throat worked, and he forcibly had to stop himself from swallowing. Gah, this is really uncomfortable.

"Ah, if only Raven was less of a coward." The flyer's tone grew soft. Almost menacing. "I should have put him down sooner. But I must be grateful, for he has brought you to me."

Jett shook, anger filling his dark eyes. He reached up with both hands, grabbing onto Ra'Skevvor's wrist. With all his strength, he shoved the offending hand away from his face. Sitting up, he leveled a hate-filled glare at the Kairg leader.

"Don't you dare," he seethed. "Don't you dare call him a coward! If anyone's a coward, it's you!"

Ra'Skevvor didn't seem bothered by his outburst. "You finally swallowed it."

"Huh?" Jett blinked, his anger temporarily forgotten. Oh.... The pill! This monster. He said those things to get me mad on purpose! He scowled, shaking from anger. He wanted nothing more than to stab this guy, but even if he had his weapon, he'd knew he had a zero percent chance of succeeding. Ra'Skevvor was not someone he could hope to match.

Yet.

"Jett," Ra'Skevvor said.

The use of his name made Jett feel wrong. Like someone dumped a bucket filled poop over his head. He shuddered.

"Join me."

Jett's answer was immediate. "No."

The Kairg flyer looked at him. Jett felt every single hair on his bare upper body rise to attention. Goosebumps prickled all over his flesh. Suddenly, he got the impression that he stood on a knife's edge, and if he even did something so foolish as daring to breathe, he'd be sliced in two.

"Are you sure?" Ra'Skevvor's voice had become low and purring, much like a panther. It was frighteningly similar to Raven's voice when he was trying to threaten Jett into doing something ridiculously dangerous. The similarity made Jett shudder.

The fear came roaring back, causing Jett to look away from the flyer. He didn't dare look at him. This was the guy who murdered his son in cold blood because he was disappointed in him. This was the guy who build horrific war machines and sent them to trample cities for fun. This was the guy who didn't care about the amount of blood he had on his hands.

This guy... was a monster. And the moment Jett forgot that, it would all be over.

"I'm not going with you," Jett whispered. He clenched his hands in the grass, grasping onto whatever shred of courage he could find. "I have my own thing to do."

"Hoo, do you now?" The voice had become even more sinister. Jett could almost feel the hot breath against his face, could almost smell the scent of blood emanating from the monster. "Do tell, little son. If you will not join me, then what will you do?"

A bead of sweat slid down the side of Jett's face. He kept his gaze fixed on a distant patch of grass. "I will bring down Troit," he softly said. "And then I will bring down you."

In the silence that followed, the scent of blood grew stronger. Jett got the feeling that something was right behind him, looming over him. His hands twitched as every instinct in his body told him to move, to get as far away as possible from whatever loomed behind him.

He didn't move. He didn't dare.

"Very good," a low voice breathed into his ear. "Then struggle, little son. Struggle as much as can. And when you understand the bitter truth of this wreck of a world, I will be waiting for you."

Silence fell. And even after the pressure disappeared and a cool wind blew through the grass, Jett didn't move. It wasn't until orange glowed on the eastern horizon that he finally dared to take a peek around.

The monster was gone.

For now.