Baido woke to his heart hammering in his head, flooding his ears and jumbling his thoughts. His throat was a desert and his tongue was sandpaper. The side of his neck flared and his back prickled with pain. His first sight was a serene and dark emptiness, a reflection of his own mind.

But what was lost to his pounding head-heart slowly returned to him in flashes of memory.

Defeaning music and vibrant lights spinning all around him. Adrenaline and sweat thick in the air. Bitter liquid sliding down his throat.

He threw up the food he couldn't recall having ate over the sofa he laid on.

Plunged in a sea of perfume and swinging hips. A confusion of barely-conscious bodies. Lingering touches. Lips crashing against lips, for the sole purpose of pleasure.

He wiped the vomit and what lingered of the women off his lips. Pulled himself off the sofa and made for the door.

Darkness, solitude and silence. The adrenaline drains away and the drinks work at their best, conjuring her face. Her smile. Her bright blue eyes. Her laugh and her voice. Like she was right here, before him.

"Wasted again?" She'd say. Her hands on her sculptured hips. Her moon-like eyes taking him in, all broken and torn, a snap of string away from chaos.

Baido closed his eyes, to let her linger in his head a little longer. But she faded all too quickly. Just like she had that night.

His watch vibrated and cried out. A quick glance informed him that it was his baby brother's birthday. Bleary-eyed and yawning he entered an elevator. Before he knew it, he'd travelled upstairs to Dhulka.

Baido, unlike many of his companions in the Vermillion didn't have the tattered upbringing to excuse his current career. He had normal parents and a normal childhood. He got good grades and played every sort of sport there was. But he was rotten, even when he was little. Shiny things always grabbed his attention, and half the words on his lips were lies. He was bound to end up in the Underbelly, but he never forgot what he left behind in Dhulka.

Baido passed down the hall and turned a corner when something strange and out of place stole his attention.

"Flame boy?" But when Baido peered closer he found that it wasn't the surface dweller he'd found in the Underbelly a month ago but another one altogether.

All sense bombarded him at once. He pressed himself into the wall, escaping the surface dweller's sight and slid to the nearest door, a storage room. He locked the door and paced the space that wasn't occupied by carts. Slowly his scattered thoughts fell into place.

Dhulka had been invaded. The line didn't seem to be working and he didn't know whether or not his parents and brother were safe.

Footsteps approached behind the door. He barely saw it. But when he did, he knew it was his only escape.

~~~

Baido's back was as stiff as stone. His thin clothing clung to his skin with sweat. His lungs dust-stuffed and heavy. The skin of his arms peeled and seered. His legs a dead weight, that had forgotten the feeling of walking. He reached another vent cover and peered down into a corridor of Dhulka's Western Quarter.

Surface dwellers had swiftly made themselves accustomed to Dhulka's architecture. But they only knew so much. Dhulka's vents were built for travel. Short distances of back aching, arm scraping travel, that is.

The people of Dhulka were herded around like programmed robots, feet moving strangely in sync, arms frozen against their sides, in perfect rows one after the other. But at night the people moved freely, a freedom restricted to their own bodies that is. At night, guns controlled them just the same. He'd watched them move people from room to room, and that was all he was able to do because his parents and brother were never among the herds.

He'd visited their home, only to find an aftermath of a struggle, pools of blood and no bodies. But even among the piles of bodies he'd found elsewhere he didn't find his family. Which made the search even harder, because they were either dead or alive but lost somewhere in Dhulka.

He made sure the corridor was empty before he crawled over. He turned over onto his back and gazed up at dust particles illuminated by rays of the setting sun, reflected around Dhulka by the millions of mirrors that directed sunlight into Dhulka's compartments. He'd crawl at night and rest during the day.

He was bloated full with dusty air. His travel had become sluggish with fatigue. And consciousness flickered like candle flame. It was more likely that he'd have been found then him ever seeing his family again. He drank in the despair, accepting his fate.

Day after day, agony-born screams found their way into the vents, absorbed by his skin and coursed through every tissue of his being. The worst of all, the cries of children flooding the vents from every direction. Too many at once, Baido couldn't tell if he'd heard his brother or not. But he wasn't sure if he wanted to hear his brother.

Then at night, dead silence. He moved as quietly as he possibly could, searching every compartment in the western quarter he managed to enter.

But every room looked the same as the next. Blood shed and broken bodies.
Survivors, which were mostly women and children, huddling together through what little sleep they'd been allowed by the surface dwellers. The remainder of the men were separated from the women and herded out of the western quarter.

Dhulka was dying. But Baido didn't want to believe it. He couldn't. He wouldn't. Then the king's execution was broadcasted across Dhulka. And nothing could convince him otherwise that Dhulka was dead.

He closed his eyes and emptied his mind. He was as good as dead, what would a bullet through his head change. But just as he'd let himself fall into despair's grip he heard it. A jingle of a bell. Eloi.

Baido clambered across to the vent cover. A group of women and children were being moved. But with every kid that wasn't Eloi, despair sunk its claws deeper and deeper into him. Then he saw him. The messy brown curls like his own, his god-awful red shoes and the bell hanging from his wrist.

Baido crawled forward, kicking off despair's hold on him. He followed the sound of the bell as best as he could, pushing himself further and further. Until he couldn't hear it anymore. He peered down a vent cover. They were placed in a room. A surface dweller placed outside to stand guard.

When he deemed it safe, Baido pried off the vent cover and hefted himself into the room. All eyes fell on him, including his brothers. Eloi rose to his feet, disbelief in his gaze. Then he was smiling, running. Baido crumpled to his knees and with what was left of his strength took Eloi into his arms. The brothers held each other long enough to make up for everything second they were apart.

"Baido," Eloi said easing out of the embrace. The boy's eyes glazed over and tears threatened to fall. "Baido, mom and dad are..."

Baido felt a piece of his heart crumble. "It's ok, Eloi. You got me. Your big bro is still here. And I promise I'll keep you safe."

"But you can't stay here. They'll take you away."

"Who says we're staying. I'm getting you the hell out of here." Baido stood, a sudden courage coursing through him. "We're going downstairs."

Gasps swept across the room. The women and children watched the two brothers wide-eyed. Eloi looked back at them. His feet froze. "Baido we can't just leave them here."

Baido met the dozens of dismay-ridden faces. He shook his head and tugged his brother forward. "We can't all go crawling through the ceiling either."

"Then I won't go." Eloi ripped his hands away from Baido's. "I'll stay here, with them."

"Eloi don't be stupid," Baido sneered.

"I'm not, you are!"

Eloi wasn't wrong. Baido knew just how stupid he was. Unlike Eloi he was weak and selfish and he'd never sacrifice himself for strangers. But Eloi gave him no other choice.

"Fine."

A smile broke across his brother's face, as he was tackled into a hug. "Thank you Baido!"

Baido scowled. "Alright. This is what's going to happen."

~~~

The lights flickered and faded and darkness took its place. A gunshot rippled through the corridors. Smoke alarms cried out. Two surface dwellers along the halls raced to its source. Baido crawled onwards, away from the sound. He found the next vent cover and pried it open. A surface dweller stood guard five feet away. Another down the hall, and a third round the corner.

Baido plunged his head under, grinning wickedly. "Hey."

Eyes connected. The gun rose and bullets filled the air. Baido ducked away and rolled forth a tiny marble bomb.

The deafening birth of dense smoke. And the wail of smoke alarms. The surface dweller stood about in disarray when Baido reached down and closed his hands around the gun's barrel. He thrust the gun back into it's weilder's shoulder freeing it from his grip.

In a span of seconds, Baido dropped two bombs down the gun's barrel, dropped the gun back into the corridor and took his leave. Following his trail through the vents ricocheted the blast of bullet and bomb and falling rocks.

That was his last bomb and they'd be leaving at any moment then. Baido moved as fast as his body allowed. But even after all his effort he didn't anticipate the arrival of another surface dweller so soon. A surface dweller who was headed in their direction, no less. Baido met him at a junction and followed closely from above.

If the surface dweller reached them before him, Baido didn't think he'd be merciful. He searched his pockets, for something, anything that might help his chances. He found a handkerchief. Perfect, that was all he needed.

Baido stalled a second. Then he dove through the lense light right onto the surface dweller's back. Glass shattered and a man went down. He pinned the surface dweller under him and swiped the handkerchief over his nostrils.

Footsteps approached. Baido looked up to find his brother and a pack of women and kids behind him. The body stilled under him. Baido took his gun and didn't waste a second. He rushed them forward and followed closely behind.

They reached the elevator, safe and sound. Baido stuffed the children and women in, one after the other, till his brother and the last group were left.

But before the brothers parted, Baido gave Eloi a silver medal that he had never once went without since stealing it from their father. "Tell them you're my brother and show them this medal. Tell them you're looking for Vaya of the Vermillion. Tell them I might not make it."

Eloi shook his head, indignant. "I'm not leaving you Baido. Promise me you'll come. Promise me you'll make it."

Baido pressed his forehead against his brother's. Eloi as a baby loved it when Baido did that. "I said might didn't I."

Eloi sniffled. Forced the tears away. "I'm sorry I said you were stupid. You're brave Baido. You're brave."

Baido hugged his brother one last time and hurried him into the safety of the elevator. When it halted in the Underbelly, Baido released a dozen bullets into the button board.

Soon they came for him. By then he'd thrown the gun away and surrendered peacefully. They didn't kill him, to his surprise. But brought him out of Western Quarter to a place where they had gathered all the remaining men. To keep them alive, the surface dwellers must've decided they'd be of use somehow.

A/n: I know you all wanna hear from present day Lua. And this chapter must feel like a repeat of Nairo's chapter but I have a very special part for Baido to play so bear with me. 😆