Chapter Text
The ancient tunnels of Millbank Prison echoed softly with the sound of steady, easy footsteps. Jonah Magnus was taking his sweet time, savoring the victory that was now imminent. It was certain that Jon would return from The Lonely with his final mark and the rest was nothing but a matter of time. He wasn’t in a hurry, not now. It would be weeks at most and after two-hundred years of waiting, that hardly felt like hours. As it was, no one could touch him in these tunnels. Not with the Leitner Peter had so kindly left him. He would simply remain until the commotion above had finished, then wait for his coming victory in the comfort of his office. Everything had finally come together.
Rounding a corner, Jonah paused at the sight of a dense fog rolling through what should have been enclosed corridors. The haze was familiar to him and for the briefest moment he considered with a start that perhaps Peter had somehow managed to overcome Jon. He pushed that thought aside, dismissing it as irrational. Jon was much too strong for Peter now, Jonah had been sure of that when he allowed Jon to follow them. He fixed his gray eyes on the dancing mist in search of clues for what he was experiencing; guard only slightly raised in the glow of his victory. The fog rolled into a thick blanket, howling and swirling into a vortex in a sudden burst of wind. As Jonah drew his arm up to his face to ensure he could continue to see, a black shape started to form at the base of that whirlwind. The sound of the wind began to blend with the painful, hollow moans of the forming mass balled on the ground. The sound was as familiar as the murky fog. It was the sound of Peter’s projected voice through The Lonely realm he had loved so much. A sound Jonah had never expected to hear again.
As suddenly as it came, the wind was gone and the fog had settled along the edges of the tunnel walls. The writhing shape pushed waves of mist away from itself with its chaotic motions while it seemed to shudder into its own very existence. Groans seemed to roll from that shadow-being as it managed to begin what seemed to be an agonizing attempt at raising from the ground. It was very tall, the edges of its swaying form resembling the Captain’s jacket Peter had been wearing when he had gone into The Lonely. It stumbled and leaned on the tunnel wall, the groaning dying out as it steadied itself. It briefly seemed to flicker in and out of existence for a moment before a pair of pure, bright white eyes filled with static settled on Jonah. That echoing sound came again, this time clearly Peter’s distant voice, a similarly white-static mouth moving against the stark, black form.
”Elias?”
Jonah had dropped his arm as the wind had died away, those same gray eyes now fixed on the salt-and-pepper ones watching him. He raised an eyebrow, unsure exactly what he was looking at. It certainly looked like Peter, to a degree. Like a memory of Peter plucked from an unclear dream and in that moment Jonah couldn’t be sure if this was some kind of trick by another Entity, or something much stranger.
“Peter?” He simply replied.
The thing tried to push itself off of the wall, stumbling again as its eyes reflected a confusion only clear by their widening. "Peter. Peter? No… No. NO!” Its hands shot to the sides of its head as it lost its footing and fell to what seemed to be its knees. “I’m NOT Peter! I’m... Not. Am I?” Those eyes moved back to Jonah “Am I?”
Jonah considered the creature in front of him, eying it carefully and with cutting scrutiny. He did not approach, but he did not move away either; curiosity for what had become of his pawn overtaking him. There was distress clear across the expression of the shadow-creature, intriguing him further. Whatever this was, it was not something Jonah had encountered in his two centuries. Information was needed to understand exactly what was happening and he felt the burning need to know claw at his immediate thoughts. “Perhaps. What do you remember?”
“I don’t…” It flickered out of view for a moment before it reappeared in the same position “That… Archivist- compelled me- compelled him. We told him so many things… It hurt.”
“Did you tell him everything?” Jonah asked with some concern, a flash of disapproval on his features.
“No.” It groaned, hands steading itself on the ground as it seemed to try to get itself together. “No… We kept your secret. Your plan.” Those narrowed, static-filled eyes were fixed intently on Jonah “He tried to pull it from him… Scattered me when we refused.”
“Ahh.” Jonah mused, a sudden look of realization on his features. “So you’re what’s left of Peter Lukas.”
“Yes… NO!” the creature snarled and flickered “I don’t KNOW!”
“Calm down.” Jonah instructed clearly and firmly. “You need to think. If you were scattered after your encounter with Jon, how are you here now?”
“I- I was… pulled back together…” The echoes said with some brief clarity. “Pieces… stitched together by… By ‘I Am Alone.’”
Jonah nodded and hummed, folding his arms over his chest as he watched the figure manage to get back on its feet. “Congratulations, Peter. It seems you have ascended. Your dedication to your patron certainly seems to have paid off. You’re part of The Lonely now, aren’t you?”
For a moment, the figure seemed to consider Jonah’s words. It seemed to take stock of itself, looking its body over. Its face twisted into one of confusion before the expression ebbed to slight understanding, turning its attention back to Jonah. “No…” It said at last, a frown etched into its mouth “I AM Forsaken. A part of it, a branch… snapped off.”
“Fascinating. Tell me, what does it feel like?” Jonah took a curious step toward the being, noting that its edges had started to bleed into the fog still swirling about the tunnels. It hardly seemed separated from the fog itself and Jonah supposed that made sense. That misty swirl often followed The Lonely.
It didn’t answer straight away. Instead it narrowed its eyes at Jonah’s approach and its mouth did not open again until Jonah had stopped moving. “I don’t know.” it said with a slight growl at the realization “I don’t remember how to tell you.”
“Yes, I suppose that would be the case. You never were much for conversation. Explaining yourself may not be the easiest.” Jonah’s hand moved to his chin in consideration as he watched the figure’s hostility. “Are you angry, Peter?”
“I’m not Peter!” It almost snarled “Peter Lukus is dead.”
“Quite.” Jonah said shortly “Then would you prefer I simply call you ‘Forsaken’?”
“Fine” It said after a moment of indignant consideration. “Yes. I am angry. And… something else.”
“Disappointed? Uncertain? Displaced?”
“Yes.”
“You never took loss well, not even in humanity.” Jonah mused aloud “And to lose twice in one day? I can’t imagine your ego was entirely intact even before The Archivist destroyed you. No wonder you’re so unstable.”
“Shut up!” The echo in its voice resonated with white noise as its narrowed eyes seemed to burrow into Jonah “You don’t know anything!”
“Come now. You know that simply isn’t true. If you want my help in understanding, I suggest you calm yourself and refrain from insulting me. I understand this must be painful for you, but I have no obligation to help.”
It moaned in rage and clawed its hands down its face, fog stirring with obvious agitation. “Fine!” It snapped again and balled its hands at its sides. “What do I do?” Distress began to lace its tone.
“I don’t know!” Jonah said with some amusement as he stepped around the edge of the tunnel, looking the now less hostile figure up and down with a precision most would find uncomfortable. “You are fascinating, though. Tell me, Pe- Hmm. Forsaken, can you feel what your domain, what you want?”
Its eyes fell on the stone floor below it as it tried its best to reflect inward. It tried to reach for the information asked, to know what The Lonely Entity was asking of it. “I don’t know what it wants… But I know what we wanted. At the end.”
“Do you? And what might that be?”
“Revenge.”
“On whom?”
There was a moment of tension between the two figures as Forsaken seemed to consider Jonah as a whole. It took a moment for it to reply, as though the answer was more complicated than a simple list. “Martin… and that Archivist.” It hissed out its reference to Jon.
“Oh I see.” Jonah’s voice became low as he grinned in a malicious amusement “Well now, we simply *can’t have that, can we? Martin is… inconsequential now. That is to say you can do what you like to him- but Jon? No. He is to be left alone.”
“You can’t stop me, Elias.”
“I can, and I will.” Jonah replied curly without the slightest loss of joy “I may not be able to destroy you. I think if that were possible Jon would have managed the first time. But I can remind you of the pain of being reformed unendingly, if it is your desire to chase after Jon.”
“Can you?” Came the almost overconfident reply.
“Shall we find out?” Jonah asked in that same sinister way as a flash of a green spark danced behind his eyes.
There was a guttural groan of frustration from the thing that had once been Peter. With fists still balled it sucked a frustrated breath through its ‘teeth’, narrow eyes fixed like poised daggers on what felt like Jonah’s very being. “STOP THAT!” it howled at the mental impact of the still-so recent memory of its near destruction “Enough!”
“As long as we understand each other, I’m happy to. I don’t take any extra pleasure in harming you after all these years.”
“Yes! Fine! I will leave your precious Archivist alone!”
“Very good.”
The being relaxed itself slightly as whatever Jonah had been showing it seemed to fade from the front of its mind. Its heavy breathing took a moment to settle to something more acceptable as it straightened to a more neutral posture, seeming suddenly more aware and focused. “Martin played us. Made a fool of him. I want to destroy him.”
“Oh, Forsaken. I never said a word about your quest against Martin. I mean only to tell you that if you hurt Jon before his job is complete, I will ensure you suffer in ways you can’t imagine.”
“Very well, Elias.” What sounded much more like Peter’s voice said clearly from the place his shadow stood “I will try to ensure no harm comes to your pet.”
“Will you?” Jonah asked as he moved even closer to examine any changes that might have happened, but all that could be observed was the clearing of some of the noise within its eyes. “Can you ensure that in your current state?”
It hummed a familiar chuckle as its first unsettling smile formed as nothing but a white line and a tipping at the edges of its mouth as it spoke “In my current state of mind? Of course. I can’t speak for later. I haven’t been long enough to know.”
“Hmm.” Jonah made it clear the answer was not what he was looking for. “I cannot let you leave here without your assurance. I suspect something like you could do a fair amount of damage in a short time. You lost our bet. Just because the Lonely spared you doesn’t mean that has changed.”
“Yes, fine. I will seek Martin out when he is alone. I won't even involve The Archivist.”
“Ohh trust me. Where Martin is involved, so too will Jon be. And if you can be destroyed, I’m sure he will find a way. Perhaps you would be better off simply waiting. The world will belong to Fear soon enough.”
“No.” Came its firm reply “This can’t wait. I won't stop you. I agreed I wouldn’t. If I can’t kill or physically hurt your Archivist… I’ll destroy him emotionally.”
“Yes, yes. If you must.” Jonah waved his hand dismissively “Just as long as he is able to read.”
“Where are they?”
“I don’t think I’ll be telling you that.”
“Elias-”
“Pet- Forsaken.”
“Tell me.” The noise began to dance behind those white eyes again, tone shifting only slightly into its hazy projection.
“No.”
“ELIAS!”
“Find them on your own.” Jonah stated firmly, though the smile still lingered “You don’t need me for that, and it was never part of our arrangement.”
“Fine! Fine.” It huffed. From beneath its coat billowed that same creeping sea-smoke, instantly rushing to fill the space around it “Then you’re no use to me right now.”
“If you say so.”
The cloud grew until it was dense enough to make vision even an inch from Jonah’s eyes impossible. As if by instinct he moved to press his back against the wall of the tunnel, casting a glance around himself in the vain hope of seeing what might come toward him. He knew this would be fruitless and opted to raise both of his arms in front of his face, eyes protected and ever-watching. It wasn’t until the fog became thin enough for him to see the other wall that he felt safe to move. Forsaken seemed to have gone, vanished into the Realm from which it was born.
Regarding the spot it had been, Jonah could see no trace of the thing that had been Peter. He felt only a moment of pause, a moment of something akin to regret as he considered the creature’s existence in the place of someone he had come to know so well. Though he had long set affection aside for ambition, the pang of concern for its being was enough to give him pause. He did not allow it to fester, however, and moved from the section of the tunnel they had met in with haste.
He had a plan to wait for, after all.