The Symbol of Death: Part 4
A single drop of blood fell from the jagged rocks above, descending with the weight of countless lives.
The clash between Mio's crew and the Gala organizers neared its conclusion.
The once bustling venue now lay in disarray. Bodies littered the floor. The air was thick with the acrid scent of smoke and the metallic tang of blood. Squads of Marshall replicas moved with ruthless efficiency as they subdued the remaining villains. With practiced ease, they restrained the struggling criminals, binding them with thick, unyielding restraints that left no room for escape.
Some villains had already met their end during the fierce battle, their lifeless forms lying amongst the wreckage. Others, however, still clung to life, captured. The fate of the latter was clear: they were going to be executed, to set an example.
Feral, once a fierce and untamed force, now lay restrained amidst a forest of harpoon-like metal spears that pierced her body, rendering her immobile and powerless. Her primal roars had been silenced, replaced by pained gasps and desperate struggles against her metal restraints. With cold efficiency, the Marshall replicas prepared to execute Feral, their weapons gleaming in the harsh light as they awaited the signal to deliver the fatal blow. Only death awaited those who dared to defy the order imposed by the Gala organizers.
Meanwhile, in the depths of the lab, Mio, De Jais, and Ookami stood surrounded by a squad of Marshall replicas. The reinforced gate that had once served as their last line of defense now lay breached.
Amatsu sneered at Mio with undisguised contempt, his voice dripping with malice.
"There's no escape for you now," he taunted. "You've failed, and there's no way you're getting out of here alive. Your little plan has crumbled to dust, just like you will soon."
Mio's breath came in ragged gasps, her body trembling with exhaustion as she stood defiantly before the encroaching threat. Blood trickled from her nose, staining her pale skin crimson, darkness clouding her vision as the hemorrage in one of her eyes prevented her from seeing.
A faint smile played at the corners of her lips, a glimmer of defiance in the face of overwhelming odds. "You idiot," she said, her voice barely above a whisper yet carrying a steely resolve. "I never intended to bring Dr. Kovak to him. I am a beacon. He's the one who whill be coming here."
Among the vials of quirk enhancing drugs that she had consumed, there was one that was different. It had been her last dose of Sandatsu's blood. With it, just like he had done in Kyoto, he could find her. There was no point in bringing him into the gala with his quirk not working. It was an unnecessary risk, so she had chosen to let him sort his stuff out, and then have him come to them.
But, that entire plan had been a gamble. It relied entirely on Sandatsu's tendency to evolve further when faced against impossible odds.
Amatsu's smirk faltered for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure, his expression hardening.
"It doesn't matter," he spat. "You're still going to die here, just like the rest of your pathetic crew. And there's nothing you can do to stop it."
The drop of blood landed on the damaged visor of the Marshall replica. It seeped through its cracks and made its way into the wound of the Marshall, a tiny intruder infiltrating the sanctity of his body.
As Mio's words hung heavy in the air, a palpable tension gripped the underground lab.
Suddenly, without warning, the Marshall replicas began to act, their movements swift and decisive as they turned their weapons on themselves or each other in a frenzy of violence.
One clone raised his gun to his temple and pulled the trigger, the deafening crack of gunfire echoing through the cavernous chamber as his lifeless body crumpled to the ground, turning into sludge. In another corner of the lab, two replicas locked in a deadly struggle, their hands clawing at each other's throats with desperate ferocity. With a sickening crunch, one of them succeeded in snapping the other's neck.
Across the Gal the Marshall replicas began to succumb to the same eerie compulsion that gripped their counterparts in the underground lab.
But it was not just in the Gala that the replicas met their end. From the bustling streets of Tokyo to the remote villages nestled in the countryside, millions of replicas across the globe succumbed to the same inexplicable compulsion.
In the heart of the city, a squad of replicas patrolling the neon-lit streets turned their weapons on each other.
Elsewhere, in the shadowy corners of abandoned buildings and forgotten alleyways, lone replicas took their own lives in a myriad of ways. Some hurled themselves from rooftops, their bodies crashing to the pavement below with sickening thuds. Others turned their weapons on themselves, their hands steady as they pulled the trigger, ending their existence with a final act of self-destruction.
The phenomenon spread like wildfire, engulfing the entire world.
In bustling urban centers and remote rural villages alike, Marshall replicas began to turn on themselves with startling ferocity. In the crowded streets of New York City, replicas patrolling Times Square dressed as civilians suddenly turned their weapons on each other, their bodies convulsing with violent spasms as they unleashed a barrage of gunfire that echoed through the night.
In the tranquil countryside of rural France, replicas stationed along winding country roads veered off course, hurtling themselves into the dense forests that lined the roadside. The sound of metal tearing through flesh mingled with the rustling of leaves as their bodies crashed through the underbrush,.
From the icy tundra of Siberia to the sun-baked deserts of the Middle East, the phenomenon spread like a virus, infecting replicas across every corner of the globe.
In the heart of Africa, as the replicas turned their weapons upon themselves, a few of themunleashed a final act of devastation upon the unsuspecting populace.
In the sprawling city of Nairobi, the streets were plunged into chaos as explosions ripped through the skyline, sending plumes of smoke billowing into the air. The once vibrant markets and bustling thoroughfares were transformed into scenes of carnage and destruction, as buildings crumbled and vehicles erupted into flames. Similar attacks took place on several cities, as the replicated weapons stockpiled by the self-cloning mercenary were unleashed.
errified civilians fled for their lives, their screams drowned out by the deafening roar of detonations echoing through the city streets. Mothers clutched their children close, their faces contorted with fear as they sought refuge from the relentless onslaught.
In the rural villages that dotted the countryside, the devastation was no less severe. Homes were reduced to rubble, and fields lay scorched and barren as fires raged unchecked across the landscape. The cries of the wounded mingled with the crackle of flames.
Deep within the confines of the villa, Ivan lay battered and broken. Bound tightly and surrounded by the sludge left behind by the fallen Marshall replicas, he wheezed and gasped for breath.
Despite the agony that wracked his every limb, Ivan's lips twisted into a cruel smirk, his eyes gleaming with a mad fervor. With a hoarse and rasping voice, he chuckled, the sound reverberating through the dimly lit chamber like the ominous tolling of a funeral bell.
"Fools... all of them," he muttered, his words punctuated by ragged coughs that sent droplets of blood spattering onto the floor. "In none of the futures that I foresaw... did that man... ever lose."
His laughter swelled into a maniacal crescendo.
"And now," he declared, his voice rising above the din of his own deranged mirth, "behold the awakening of the Symbol of Death!"
It is said that those with mutant type quirks, specially those that grant animal like traits, tend to have sharper instincts. At that moment, this theory seemed to hold true.
There was a moment of eerie stillness at the Underground Gala, as if the very air held its breath in anticipation of an impending storm. The attending mutant villains were the first ones to notice, they sensed something stirring in the distance.
Their movements were slow and deliberate, heads turning in unison as if guided by an unseen force. It was as if a primal instinct, buried deep within their subconscious, had been awakened by the faintest whisper of danger on the wind.
As the pillar of smoke rose from the mountains, it seemed to blot out the sun, casting a pall of darkness over the land below. The sky was now a swirling mass of ominous clouds tinged with the sickly hue of charcoal. Ash began to rain down upon the earth, coating everything in a layer of fine gray powder.
Then came the rain, mixing with the smoke and ash, turning into a dark, viscous sludge came tumbling down, staining the ground with its foul presence. The air grew heavy with the stench of decay.
As the rain continued to fall, the temperature began to rise, the air becoming thick, swelteringly hot and oppressive. Despite the heat, however, a bone-chilling cold settled over the land, sending shivers down the spines of all who stood beneath the darkened sky.
The birds, sensing the impending danger, took flight in a frenzied mass exodus, their wings beating against the air in a desperate attempt to escape. The animals in the forests below followed suit, their primal instincts driving them to flee from the approaching terror.
At the villa, the attendees gathered near the windows, their faces etched with concern as they watched the unfolding chaos outside. Some of the more daring guests ventured outside, their footsteps echoing against the damp ground as they strained to see through the haze. The air was thick with the acrid scent of burning wood and the metallic smell of ash, causing many to gag and cough as they struggled to breathe.
In the distance, a low rumble could be heard, growing louder and more ominous with each passing moment.
Ivan's voice, though weakened by pain and madness, resonated with an eerie conviction as he continued his twisted soliloquy after ge crawled next to a window. His gaze, feverish and unyielding, swept across the desolate landscape, as if seeking affirmation from the shadows creeping over the land.
"I am honored," he proclaimed, his words laced with a fervent zeal, "to serve as... the harbinger of the mightiest force this world has ever known! Cruel and noble in equal measure... shall herald... the dawn of a new era. An era where ignorance and injustice are but distant memories, swept away by the inexorable tide of death."
His hands, trembling with both agony and anticipation, gestured wildly as he spoke, each movement punctuating his fervid rhetoric.
"For too long," Ivan continued, "ignorant fools have sought to cast blame upon it for their demises, as if it were an enitity on their same level... But... they fail to comprehend its true nature. He will undo all of that! He will bring absolute order to all living things. When faced by death, there will be no injustice, no falsehood. Only absolute purity in the workings of the world, as all things are made equal before It."
A swirling vortex of energy erupted from the heart of the mountains.
The ground trembled violently beneath the feet of those unfortunate enough to witness the cataclysmic event unfolding before them.
The massive beam of grey energy tore through the landscape with unimaginable force, its sheer power obliterating everything in its path. Mountains crumbled like sandcastles beneath the relentless onslaught, their mighty peaks reduced to mere rubble in an instant. Trees were uprooted and consumed by the swirling vortex.
The devastation knew no bounds as the beam sliced through the earth, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake. It surged forward with unstoppable momentum, leveling everything in its path. The villa was torn asunder by the sheer force of the energy beam, its walls crumbling like paper in a tempest.
As the first beam of energy dissipated into the ether, more emerged from the same point, each one more devastating than the last.
From the same ominous source, pillars of fiery embers and ash erupted, casting a hellish glow upon the devastated landscape. The air crackled with intense heat as flames reached the charred remains of what once stood proud and tall.
The fiery embers rained down like a torrential storm of destruction, igniting anything they touched. Trees, buildings, and even the very earth itself became fuel for the inferno, consumed by the relentless flames.
The ground trembled, fissures opening up as if the earth itself was tearing apart at the seams.
Amidst the chaos, the desperate cries of the wounded and dying echoed through the air, drowned out by the roar of the flames. Villains ran in futile attempts to escape the inferno, their bodies engulfed in flames and energy beams as they succumbed to the merciless onslaught.
The chaos seemed to reach its zenith as the destruction unfolded, but just as suddenly as it had begun, it came to an abrupt halt. Silence descended upon the scorched earth, broken only by the crackling of flames.
From the wreckage of the fallen helicopter emerged D-78. Its greenish-blue skin seemed to glow with an otherworldly radiance as it let out a deafening roar that echoed across the desolate landscape.
With thunderous footsteps, D-78 charged forward, its massive form cutting through the smoke and ash like a force of nature unleashed. Its muscles rippled with raw power as it barreled towards the source of the destruction.
From the heart of the swirling smoke and ash, a gnarled hand emerged, its twisted fingers reaching out like claws hungry for prey. With a speed that belied its grotesque appearance, the hand shot forward, grabbing hold of D-78's face.
D-78 let out a guttural roar of defiance, its muscles straining against the force that held it captive. But despite its immense strength, it was powerless against the unseen force that now controlled its body.
With a sickening thud, the hulking brute crashed to the ground, its massive frame shaking the earth beneath it. Its mutated physiology twitched and convulsed, but no amount of struggle could help it move.
Mio remained eerily calm amidst the turmoil. With a steely resolve in her eyes, she watched as Amatsu, panicking, turned tail and fled in a desperate bid for survival. But Mio showed no signs of concern as she focused her attention on the next course of action.
"Ookami," she commanded, her voice carrying a tone of unwavering authority, "bring me to the villa above. Now."
Ookami, ever the obedient servant, nodded silently. She was still worried about her master. But there's no way she'd ever disobey her orders, not when Katsuragi-sama had that look in her eyes. She looked happy.
As they reached the entrance to the villa above, Ookami pushed open the heavy doors, revealing a scene of devastation beyond. The once grand estate now lay in ruins.
Mio and Ookami stood at the entrance of the villa, their eyes widening in disbelief as they surveyed the devastation before them. Half of the once-grand building lay in ruins, reduced to a crumbling mass of debris and twisted metal. The air was thick with dust and smoke, casting a pall of gloom over the scene.
But before either of them could speak, another explosion echoed in the distance, drawing their attention back to the mountains. Against the backdrop of smoke and ash, a figure soared through the sky with breathtaking speed. Each leap sent shockwaves rippling through the earth, shattering the ground below and tearing through the already ravaged landscape.
Mio's heart pounded in her chest as she watched the figure's relentless advance, each landing leaving a trail of destruction in its wake. There was an undeniable aura of power emanating from it.
The figure landed with earth-shattering force, crashing through what remained of the villa's roof. Debris and dust billowed around him as the impact sent shockwaves rippling through the already devastated structure. Suspended behind him were the figures of Drekus and D-78, held aloft by an unseen force.
As the smoke slowly cleared, revealing the figure standing amidst the wreckage, a sense of dread settled over the onlookers.
His clothes were tattered and torn, his expression serene yet tinged with an undeniable air of menace.
With a casual flick of his hand, he released his psychic hold on Drekus and D-78, allowing them to fall to the ground with a resounding thud. His gaze swept over the scene before him, taking in the destruction with a sense of detached amusement.
"I'm back," Sandatsu remarked nonchalantly. Mio, standing nearby amidst the rubble, couldn't help but smile.
It took you long enough, idiot," she said.
Dr. Kovak hovered over Drekus, his eyes alight with fascination and curiosity. His hands trembled slightly, betraying his excitement at the opportunity to examine the wounded villain before him.
"D-44, oh, how r-r-remarkable you are," Kovak exclaimed, his words spilling out in a rush, his stutter more pronounced in his eagerness. "To think I wo-w-would have the chance to st-st-study you up close... it's simply extraordinary."
Drekus shifted uncomfortably on the examination table, his muscles tense beneath the bandages that wrapped around his battered form. Kovak's proximity was suffocating, his breath warm against Drekus's skin as he leaned in closer, his eyes gleaming with scientific fervor.
"N-Now, now, let's n-not be shy, D-44," Kovak stammered, his hands reaching out to touch the wounds on Drekus's body. "I-I need to conduct a b-biopsy, you see. Just a small s-sample to understand your q-quirk factors better."
Drekus gritted his teeth, his discomfort growing with each invasive touch. He spoke in a measured tone, his voice tinged with irritation as he addressed Kovak.
"Drekus... not D-44," he muttered, his words clipped and cold. "And personal space... respect it."
But Kovak seemed undeterred by Drekus's protest, his focus solely on the task at hand. With trembling hands, he prepared his instruments, his excitement palpable in the air as he readied himself to delve into the mysteries of Drekus's quirk.
Then he stopped.
As Dr. Kovak flinched in pain, his finger twisted by an unseen force, a cold shiver ran down his spine. His eyes widened in terror as he beheld the imposing figure of Sandatsu Owari stepping into the lab, his presence commanding the attention of all within its confines.
"How many times..." Sandatsu's voice was low and menacing, carrying an undeniable aura of authority. "...have I told you to keep your derangements from interfering with the treatment?"
Kovak nodded frantically, beads of sweat glistening on his brow as he trembled under Sandatsu's piercing gaze. The memory of his previous punishment, the agony of three broken fingers, still haunted him.
"S-Sandatsu, please," Kovak stammered, his voice quivering with fear. "I-I'll ensure it doesn't happen again. I swear it."
Sandatsu's expression remained stoic, his eyes dark and unreadable as he surveyed the lab. His presence seemed to fill the room, suffusing the air with an oppressive weight that left those present feeling as though they were drowning in his gaze.
"See that you do," Sandatsu replied, his tone devoid of emotion. "Or you may find yourself lacking more than just fingers next time."
Dr. Kovak finished treating Drekus's wounds, his hands still trembling from the encounter with Sandatsu. They moved on to the next task as soon as Mio, Ookami, Feral, and Ivan entered.
Mio, her tone sharp and commanding, wasted no time in addressing Kovak. "Alright freak. Give me the rundown on his quirk's recovery," she demanded.
Feral approached Drekus, a hint of concern in her voice as she addressed him. "Hey, little bro, how you feeling?" she asked, her gaze softening as she looked at him. "I don't wanna bring you back to meet Karma all beaten up."
Drekus, still recovering from his injuries, managed a weak smile. "Drekus is alright, sis," he replied just as one of his horns fell off. "Drekus will glue that back on later."
Kovak swallowed nervously, glancing at the figures gathered before him. "W-well, he's... progressing as expected," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "He's stabilizing, recovering. But..."
"But?" said Mio.
Dr. Kovak cleared his throat, his hands trembling slightly as he addressed Mio. "Sandatsu Owari's quirk is... quite the unique case," he began, his voice shaky but resolute. "You see, his quirk factor—or lack thereof—is unlike anything I've ever encountered."
Mio's sharp gaze bore into Kovak, her impatience evident as she waited for him to continue.
Kovak swallowed hard, gathering his thoughts before pressing on. "The entirety of Sandatsu's being could be considered his quirk factor," he explained, his words careful and measured. "He and his quirk are one and the same. That's why the damage dealt when his quirks stopped working had been so devastating to him."
Kovak's voice wavered slightly as he continued, his eyes darting nervously between Mio and the others. "B-but don't worry," he stammered, his hands gesturing in an attempt to reassure them. "Sandatsu Owari will have made a full recovery soon enough."
Mio's expression softened slightly at Kovak's words, though her annoyance remained evident. She crossed her arms, another silent demand for further explanation.
Kovak's voice gained confidence as he delved into the finer details of quirk factors, his hands punctuating his words with sweeping gestures. His stutter basically gone.
"Quirk factors encompass not only the primary power itself but also all the intricate mechanisms necessary for its proper function," Kovak explained, his tone earnest. "Typically, this process is automatic, requiring minimal conscious effort from the user."
He paused, allowing his words to sink in before continuing. "Some researchers posit that quirks possess a level of consciousness—a separate element within an individual, rather than an entirely different entity may I add, tasked with managing and regulating the usage of their power."
"So, what about it? You're saying is I am my quirk?" Sandatsu mused.
Kovak nodded, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of relief and excitement. "Precisely. Your mental instability stemmed from the lack of separation between yourself and your quirks. Your brain bore the burden of managing not only your own quirk but also those you've absorbed."
"I haven't needed my antipsychotics since I returned," Sandatsu said. "And yet... my mind feels clearer than it has in years."
"That's because, as your quirk factor heals, so too does your mind," Kovak continued, his voice laced with a quiet confidence. "Just as strained muscles grow stronger with time, so too do strained quirks. As your quirk factor recovers, it refines itself, alleviating the mental strain that once plagued you."
Feral's hand landed on Sandatsu's back with a comforting pat. "Feels good to have that brain of yours finally cooperating, huh?" she teased.
Sandatsu's smile widened, but before he could respond, Kovak interjected once more.
"Quirks are not just powers; they are an integral part of who we are," Kovak explained, his brow furrowed in thought. "They influence our personalities and are in turn influenced by our emotions. And in your case, Sandatsu, this connection is amplified. For example, have you felt any weird impulses since your quirk manifested itself?"
"%#69748c%Weird impulses, huh?%" he mused. "%#69748c%I suppose there have been moments...%"
"What do you mean with 'moments'?" Mio scoffed, her eyes narrowing at Sandatsu. "Your entire life is a string of fucked up impulses. You're a damn cannibal for fuck's sake."
"It's not... it's not like that," he protested weakly, not really caring about defending himself.. "%#69748c%I mean, technically, yes, but being a cannibal means eating those of your kind, and for me it doesn't feel like...%"
"I don't want to hear your schizo logic," she snapped.
Mio's gaze bore into Kovak. "What do you mean by 'impulses'? Can't you be a bit more specific?" she demanded, her voice sharp and commanding.
Kovak shifted uncomfortably under Mio's scrutiny, adjusting his lab coat nervously as he prepared to explain. "Well, you see," he began, his voice tinged with hesitation, "Sandatsu's quirk is quite unique in that it revolves around the absorption of other quirks. As a result, it's highly likely that he'll develop a... a hunger, if you will, for more quirks."
"Wait, is that it?" Sandatsu's nonchalant response left the doctor stunned.
Kovak blinked in surprise, his earlier apprehension giving way to a sense of awkwardness as he struggled to process Sandatsu's casual demeanor. "Is that it? What do you mean with 'Is that it?'" he echoed, his voice tinged with incredulity.
Sandatsu cut him off with a dismissive wave of his hand "I've been feeling that ever since I stole my first quirk," he remarked. "The mental breakdowns actually got in the way, so it feels kind of good to feel like that again."
Kovak's expression faltered, his confusion evident as he searched for a response. "Well, uh... in that case, I suppose there's nothing else to watch out for," he stammered, his words trailing off uncertainly.
Feral and Drekus exchanged amused glances, a shared smirk passing between them as they found humor in the anticlimactic turn of events. "Well, that was... underwhelming," Feral quipped.
Sandatsu chuckled in agreement, a sense of satisfaction evident in his demeanor as he leaned back in his chair. "Feels good to have things work out for me for a change..."
As they walked through the rubble-strewn remains of the villa, the group's footsteps echoed hollowly against the shattered walls and fallen debris.
Feral glanced at Sandatsu. "So, what's the plan, boss?" she asked
Sandatsu paused for a moment, his gaze scanning the desolate landscape around them.
"First things first, we need to regroup and assess our resources," Mio said, her tone decisive.
Ivan nodded in agreement, his expression solemn as he surveyed the wreckage. "Indeed, we can't just sit around here waiting for something else to happen. This entire ordeal is bound to be noticed by someone, and soon we might be swarmed by heroes."
Drekus chimed in, his voice echoing against the ruins of the villa. "But we still need name for our group? It is a priority." he asked, his curiosity piqued.
Feral glanced at Sandatsu expectantly, waiting for his response. "Yeah, we're gonna stick together for a while, might as well call ourselves something," she added.
Sandatsu considered her words for a moment, his mind turning over the possibilities.
"Hey, what was the name of that group in Kyoto?" Sandatsu asked, his voice cutting through the somber silence.
Mio glanced at him, her expression thoughtful as she recalled the name. "Oh, that group freaks was called the Night Parade," she replied.
"A procession of otherworldly beings that travel in a grand and eerie parade. A most appropriate name for a villain group, must I add" said Ivan.
Sandatsu nodded in agreement, his mind already whirring with ideas. "I like it," he declared. "For our group... since it was formed in Europe..."
Sandatsu considered her words for a moment. "The Wild Hunt."
"Ugh, only you could come up with a name like that."
Sandatsu chuckled, unfazed by her comment. "Thanks, Mio. I'll take that as a compliment," he replied.
"So, what do we do while the Boss finishes his recovery?" Feral asked.
"Is there a town or something nearby?" he inquired.
Feral and Mio exchanged a glance before both nodding in unison, confirming the existence of a nearby town where they had spent time together in the past. Sandatsu's smile widened ever so slightly as he considered their response. His gaze drifting towards the horizon.
"Then,"he declared, his voice calm and measured,"go hogwild."
Bonus
She had noticed the subtle shift in Sandatsu's demeanor since his return, a newfound assertiveness that left her feeling uneasy. She knew that she could no longer afford to underestimate Sandatsu, no matter how infatuated he may be with her. If anything, his newfound confidence only served to reinforce the need for her to maintain control over him, to ensure that he remained firmly within her grasp.
Sandatsu and Mio crossed paths in thallways of the ski resort. She, of course, wanted to ignore him, but just when they passed each other he spoke.
"Hey, Mio,"
Mio's brow furrowed in irritation as she turned to face him. "What do you want?" she snapped.
"Just wondering when you're going to give me those Valentine's chocolates," he teased, his words filled with mock innocence.
Mio's eyes narrowed in response, a scowl forming on her lips as she bristled at his audacity. "As if," she retorted.
With a dismissive wave of her hand, Mio turned on her heel and stormed off down the hallway, her footsteps echoing loudly against the floorboards as she disappeared around the corner.
Alone in the hallway, Sandatsu watched her retreating figure with a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. He knew he had struck a nerve, and the thought brought a sense of satisfaction that warmed him from within.
Meanwhile, back in her room, Mio seethed with frustration as she paced back and forth, her mind racing with thoughts of Sandatsu's infuriating antics. With a frustrated sigh, she reached for a hidden magazine tucked away in a drawer, its glossy cover adorned with images of heart-shaped chocolates and sugary confections.
With a frustrated groan, Mio hurled the magazine against the wall, the sound of its impact echoing in the empty room.
"How does he know?! AAUUGH!" she screamed into her pillow.