Chapter Text
For the first time in days, Alhaitham could finally breathe a sigh of relief. The Sages who conspired against their god and betrayed the people were being overthrown, and with it came Lesser Lord Kusanali’s freedom. Now, she has successfully ventured underneath the Akademiya, Traveler in tow, to confront the false god being born beneath their feet. When his Akasha Terminal had lit up, Kusanali sharing the data collection and requesting everyone’s wisdom, he happily obliged. As for whatever the Traveler and Sumeru’s Archon were doing now, he was confident they’d come out victorious.
He, more than anyone, was far too aware of every twist and turn in which the plan could have gone wrong before this point. Yet, it brought him unexplainable relief to know that it was going without a hitch. Well…besides the fact he had to let himself get a decent bash to the back of his head during his act. It was humiliating to let himself purposely be so…undisciplined, but it had worked wonders just as he hoped.
With a sigh, Alhaitham began to continue his trek to Aaru Village and check in with Candace. He had no further concerns from this point onward other than the messy aftermath that was bound to occur. After all, despite the numerous good things all of this did for Sumeru, there was no doubt everything would be a bit chaotic. Especially when it came to the Akademiya. In no way would the Sages, who were in on it all, would be allowed to keep their positions. For all he knew, every Darshan, or nearly every Darshan, would soon be lacking their Sage, and it was without question that there would be no Grand Sage after all this. And that was only the surface of what awaits in the aftermath.
He could only wonder to himself how many documents, files, and drafts would be awaiting him once he’s back in office. He also could only wonder how many incompetent people he’ll have to deal with in the process-
Alhaitham’s steps came to a halt, hair standing on end as he instinctively tensed, physically and mentally readying for an altercation. It didn’t take long to figure out what – more like who – was bringing him such alarm. A rather telling mask and fur coat decorated in Fatui insignias told him all he needed to know.
“What is he doing here?” Alhaitham internally cursed, his grip tightening around the handle of his undrawn blade. “The reconnaissance confirmed that he had left by boat in Port Ormos…” Was there some sort of mistake? No, impossible. Deyha, the Traveler, and Paimon were all witnesses to The Doctor’s departure. They definitely saw the Harbinger leave for sure. They also confirmed the signs of a hurry to leave as well. Had The Doctor circled back around and truly had no intention to leave until a bit later than they all thought?
The Harbinger carried an air of calm, and though Alhaitham could not see the man’s eyes, he could tell they were focused on him. And it was not at all reassuring.
Continuing on as if Alhaitham was not waiting for the first excuse to cut the man to pieces, he spoke up as if meeting a mere business partner. “The Grand Scribe, Alhaitham… I believe this is the first time we have officially met. I have certainly heard much about you.”
“What do you want?”
“Straight to the point I see. Good. That certainly saves me time. In return, I’ll show you the same courtesy.” Dottore’s lips curled upward into, what Alhaitham could only assume was, a smug expression. “You see, I have had my eyes set on you for a little while now… And you are certainly catching my interest more than my colleague’s new godhood.”
“You know, I do not appreciate being spoken to as if I am merely a new “lab rat” of yours.” Alhaitham’s gaze sharpened coldly, mentally trying to piece together what he could have possibly done to catch The Doctor’s intrigue. Yet, he couldn’t think of a single thing worthy of such a high-ranking Harbinger’s attention.
“Ah, don’t take it too personally. Merely a habit of mine.” Dottore shamelessly apologized while not meaning a single word. “However, I am being generous enough to give you a choice to come with me willingly.”
“Hearing someone like you say that I have a “choice” in the matter, oddly enough, makes me feel as if I actually have no choice.” Alhaitham faintly huffed from his nose. “If you are going to lie to my face, at least make it believable.”
“Am I to take this as a “no” then?”
“What do you think?”
“I think I’ll take it as a “yes”, actually.”
Before Alhaitham could make a retort to the odd reply, he suddenly flinched hard. His hand quickly darted to the back of his neck where he had felt a painful prick, fingers brushing against something sticking out before a wave of fatigue seemed to wash over him. Realizing what must have happened, and cursing himself for his lack of spatial awareness, Alhaitham made a last-ditch effort to fight back. He grabbed his sword as tightly as he could, stepping forth as his Vision glows brightly in response to his will.
Yet, he had lost control sooner than he wanted, his only weapon slipping out of his slacking grip and his balance skewed. Alhaitham gasped out in discomfort as his body fell forth and crashed to the unforgiving ground. “Y-You…!” Vines of Dendro sprouted and vibrant flowers bloomed with the intent to harm. But in a swift motion, The Doctor had literally cut his attempt down as if they were weeds to be picked. Alhaitham could only stubbornly try and keep his eyes open, observing the boots of the Harbinger as the man made his way closer to him. However, it was a losing battle and Alhaitham could no longer stay awake, quickly falling deep asleep.
Dottore observed the now unconscious Scribe, the Fatui soldiers he had brought with him now carrying Alhaitham off to be transported. By the time they had all left, there was no signs of what had occurred. Even the imprints within the patches of sand were shifted to hide whatever traces there could have been.
The world was darker than night with not a sound to be heard. There was a dull ache he could feel within his body, bringing him minor discomfort. Slowly, Alhaitham grew aware of the grogginess he felt and he struggled to wake himself up. While he busied himself with that, another part of his mind was automatically trying to recollect what had occurred and where he was.
From what he could sense, the air was cold, frigidly so. He couldn’t detect any real sources of warmth nearby. Underneath him was something soft. It was fabric on a relatively flat surface. Not entirely solid, but not entirely cushioned either. It must be a bed, he concluded. Clinging to his body, he could tell he still had his clothes, though his coat appeared to be gone and he assumed his Vision was gone too. From what he could see, there didn't appear to be too many lights around, but it was enough to make the room visible. Was it nighttime or was he simply in a location that didn’t permit sunlight? Regardless, he was lying down on a semi-comfortable bed in a small room that gave him the impression of a cell.
He groaned softly, shifting his head as he turned it to try and look around. It was then that he felt a sinking pit in his stomach, coming to a worrisome realization.
Yet, at the same time as he was carefully sitting himself up and lightly bringing a hand to the side of his head, he saw the door open. Walking in as if he owned the place – which he likely did – Dottore was there to greet him. However, all Alhaitham could do was struggle to read The Doctor’s lips with his muddled mind, not hearing a single word said. It must have gone noticed since the Harbinger had paused, staring at the Scribe with an unseen expression. The Doctor then began to make his way closer to Alhaitham and Alhaitham naturally tried to move out of reach.
The Scribe winced as he suddenly registered the feeling of metal cuffs secured around his wrists, ankles, and neck, restricting his movements to a certain degree. The material’s edge uncomfortably pressed against his skin. He was unable to hear the rattling and he was too slow to process his chained state. Unable to really go anywhere like this, he could only frown deeply as Dottore forcefully moved his head as if he were a doll whose pose could be manipulated without care. “Let go of me…!”
Something familiar in shape and weight settled over the sides of his head and over his ears. With an unheard click, Alhaitham couldn’t hide the soft gasp he made as sound eventually flooded his senses again. It was almost overwhelming as he could hear the small clinks of steel, the distant and faint drip of water, and the location’s general white noise. He didn’t get too long to revel in the return of his hearing before he was met with the quiet chuckle of the room’s other occupant.
“Well now, I assume that this is much better? Those hearing aids of yours are rather advanced. Though, I didn’t expect the Grand Scribe to be completely hard of hearing to such an extent. I bet less than a handful actually know about it.”
Alhaitham decided to merely get into the meat of the matter. “You said you had an interest in me. Why? And what are you hoping to gain out of this?”
“Tell me… How familiar are you with the tales of King Deshret, otherwise known as the Scarlet King?”
Alhaitham faintly frowned, trying to piece together why King Deshret was being brought up. “I know no more than any other scholar who has been given a course on Sumeru’s history.”
“Is that so…”
Before Alhaitham knew it, some Fatui soldiers had made their way into the room, unclasping the chains to the cuffs and collar, only to manhandle him elsewhere. Alhaitham glanced around, trying to memorize every turn and corner, every pattern on the wall, and any sign of an opportunity to escape. One thing was for certain, he thinks he may still be within the borders of Sumeru, but there was a chance he was elsewhere. That…would make this a bit harder.
However, it was clear that whatever Dottore was doing was being taken seriously judging by the lack of formalities, and the swiftness in getting things prepared. Unfortunately, for Alhaitham, it gave him no windows of opportunity to analyze before he was tightly secured to a long table. His nose twitched as he picked up a stronger whiff of antiseptic. Meanwhile, he found himself barely able to wiggle his body while trapped by the table’s built-in restraints.
Alhaitham glanced over as best as he could with his eyes, unable to turn his head by much, as he heard the sound of a cart’s wheels. All he spotted was a group of very familiar items pulsing in an eerie red light. They were knowledge capsules. More specifically, divine knowledge capsules. Alhaitham began to recall the information Lesser Lord Kusanali had shared regarding the “newborn god”. It made him wonder if these were some of the divine capsules that were intended to be given to Harbinger Scaramouche.
“...Those are the knowledge capsules that were originally supposed to go into the new human-made “god”, are they not?”
“So, you already know that much of what was going on with the…little project I was collaborating with the Sages on.” Dottore faintly smiled and Alhaitham began to feel uneasy. Even more so when the Scribe noticed himself being hooked up to something. He couldn’t quite tell.
“We can do this the easy way or the hard way, Alhaitham... At least,” Dottore hummed thoughtfully. “That’s what I would have said had I not been reminded of how…uncontrollable people can become once they tap into a divine knowledge capsule. In that case, it would be best to input the information like this. We wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself after all.”
Alhaitham frowned deeply, eyes narrowed in anger. “I don’t see how me being forced into a state of insanity will help you, Doctor .” He spoke with venom on his tongue, spitting out the Harbinger’s title like a curse.
“It would, indeed, be a waste if you lost your mind. However, I have my suspicions.” Dottore stepped closer. “And I would like to search for the answer myself in a way I know best – experimentation.”
“You’re-”
“Make it easier on yourself and relax as much as you can. It would make it no different than if you had simply signed up for this. In some ways, it’s better to be more willing. So far, your defiance and refusals have only made it much harder for yourself.”
“Lord Harbinger, everything is prepared and await further instruction.”
Dottore’s lip curved up into a smirk, carrying an aura of morbid curiosity. “Proceed with phase one. Start it off slowly to allow the subject to adjust. We only have one shot with this one and we don’t want to break it too soon.”
“Understood.”
The next thing Alhaitham knew, his sight turned red, pain pulsing in droves within his head, and light seemingly flashing behind his eyes.
After that, Alhaitham quickly loses track of time. He’s certain his sense of time has probably left him a long time ago as well. He had tried to estimate how long it’s been, or at least have an idea if it was day or night out. And yet, it was nigh impossible to think of anything but the painful pulsing and aching within his head. Often than not, even opening his eyes to look around was far too much strain. In a way, it was like a migraine, but likely a lot worse considering migraines didn’t shove foreign information and voices into your head. He still isn’t entirely sure what the point of the divine knowledge capsules is anymore. But he can hear bits and pieces about himself, King Deshret, and things about resonation and compatibility. Whatever it is, it’s most certainly not good. Especially for him.
Either way… Something was speaking within his head and he was barely able to decipher it. Sometimes, they were hushed whispers, and other times a loud cacophony that rang out like a horrifying choir. Every word though seemed to be said in an ancient tongue, one of the many languages he had learned. Part of Alhaitham wondered if it was a blessing or curse that he could somewhat understand what was being said in such an old language. In the scenario that he couldn’t understand, at least then, he could just accept it all as irritating and unintelligible noises.
Another part of him still in denial, refused to acknowledge the possibility that the words were trying to speak to him . Or, even worse, were starting to delusion him into thinking they were his own words . He would like to pride himself on his mental fortitude, thank you very much. It would be sorely disappointing if he crumbled as easily as one of Kaveh’s old drafts.
“Kaveh…” Alhaitham paused, the lone thought managing to grant him another one of his moments of clarity. At least…as clear as one can be when they spend most of their time being drugged. And subjected to whatever they were doing to his head.
How long has it been now? Surely, everything must have been resolved, right? He’d imagine that the false “god” was put to a stop and Lesser Lord Kusanali has been spending plenty of time free. Sumeru was probably busy pulling itself back together now. But…where did that leave him? He was the Grand Scribe and the one who organized the operation, so surely someone has to have noticed that he’s vanished. Was anyone looking for him? Were there any resources to be spent on searching for him? What if things were so politically unstable within Sumeru, they couldn’t dedicate enough time for a search party for a single man?
But that’s fine. He can endure. The state of Sumeru is what mattered most after all, and that is what everyone fought to correct. Sumeru should sort itself out first. It would be a waste if its progress got halted because people focused too much on his whereabouts.
Besides… As infuriating and agonizing as this entire “stay” has been, he’s been given enough time to gradually think of some ideas of what he can do. His possible insanity be damned, he was the “Akademiya lunatic” and he was going to get himself out of here come hell or high water.
“Well, that could have gone worse.”
Alhaitham sharply hissed as he felt the sudden drop in temperature as he froze parts of his chains, which he had wetted with water, with the assistance of a stolen Cryo-Gunner’s gun. It took some tinkering and fumbling with the chains before they became brittle enough to slowly break with his own strength. Alhaitham tried to get it done as quickly as he could, not wanting to risk being found out. He was fortunate enough to get this chance.
Yes, the opportunity he had been waiting for had soon come in the form of a change in the schedule. Basically, once they stopped forcefully feeding his head with divine knowledge capsules. Whatever they were trying to do and whatever results they got, it was apparently enough to start changing things up in the form of heavy interrogations. Every day, he’d be questioned about things regardless of the state he was in. Some of the time, he’d be close to normal as he could be. Those moments were the closest he could get to earning himself some entertainment, observing how his words would so quickly offend. It would get him a little roughed up as consequence, but it was worth it. Other times, they’d try and still pry answers for him while in a state of “insanity”, those voices and calls ringing out and his head metaphorically splitting apart. He isn’t always entirely aware of what he may or may not have said during those times. But if he manages to calm his mind soon enough, he would either catch signs of one of his interrogators’ frustration or semi-satisfaction. He didn’t want to consider what he could have said that was possibly benefiting the Fatui. Whatever it was, he was certain it was King Deshret related since everything else done to him seems to point to that.
But less experimentation meant fewer drugs and more chances to make plans. And he had a feeling he should think of something soon before they find something else to do to him. It was the closest he’s gotten, so far, to being able to consider escaping while his mind is somewhat intact. He couldn’t waste it.
Alhaitham then proceeded to try and keep track of the schedules. The times food was delivered to him, the times he heard footsteps nearby, the times he's visited, and whatever else he could pick up from passing conversations. He may or may not have also been tinkering around with his chains.
Regardless, he did his best to compile what little he had to work with. Though, the worst part was that he was too aware of how much of a disadvantage he was at. The chances of his escape working out at all were slim to none, not when he had so little to go off of. He wasn’t even entirely certain of where he was located. Hell, knowing how fancy the Harbingers’ budget could be, especially for one like Il Dottore, there was a chance Alhaitham could find himself stumbling around a grand facility as if it were a labyrinth. And he certainly had no map nor has he seen any. But he was going to try if it was the last thing he did. And so, he waited for the opportunity he had in mind which was in the form of a Fatui member delivering him his lunch as usual.
He had caught onto the pattern and likelihood of a Fatui member with Cryo capabilities showing up, so it wasn’t too hard to put on an act. All it took was riling that Cryo-Gunner up by intentionally stirring trouble, and once he lured the man well into his reach, Alhaitham had swiftly aimed a rough punch that knocked the Fatuus unconscious. From there, all Alhaitham had to do was use the glass of water that came with his meal and take advantage of his unconscious “friend’s” equipment.
Alhaitham slowly exhaled, relaxing as the last chain gave in. He faintly frowned at the sight of the cuffs still secured on him and the slight noise the remaining, broken chains made. It wasn’t perfect, but it was all he had.
“Alright. Step one is done. Now, let’s see…” Alhaitham carefully got up, wincing faintly as a wave of lightheadedness followed. He certainly wasn’t being entirely deprived when it came to his basic needs, but it was clearly just the bare minimum to make sure he was kept alive but not too frail that it would ruin whatever Dottore wants him for. With a sigh, Alhaitham quickly searched for anything else that was useful on the Cryo-Gunner’s person. There wasn’t much to take that he could use except for the keys that let the man into this cell in the first place. Regardless, Alhaitham had used it to lock the Fatuus inside the room. It should buy some time in the chance the other wakes up.
And with that, Alhaitham took his first steps to potential freedom, barely having a clue of where to go. If he was lucky enough, maybe there will be a floorplan somewhere. Other than that… Well…
“I guess I’ll just have to get lucky…”
“Now, what, exactly, were you hoping to achieve?”
Pinned to the floor, Alhaitham used every ounce of strength he had to try and free himself. Fatui soldiers firmly held him down as he continued to squirm and writhe on the floor fruitlessly. Even without needing to lift his head, the chill of the floor biting into his cheek, he could feel the Harbinger’s smugness. It was infuriating.
“You really thought you could just…walk out of here so easily?” Il Dottore slowly came to kneel on one knee, reaching a hand out to uncomfortably grip Alhaitham’s chin. He lifted the Scribe’s head up so they met face to face. “Then again, this was actually entirely expected. Though, I assumed you may have attempted an escape a bit sooner than this. I suppose you are more patient than I assumed. Fortunately for myself, I can be a patient man when I need to be.”
Normally, Alhaitham wouldn’t even consider pulling off such a thing, but he deems this situation special enough. And so, with as much spite as he could muster, he silently gathered his saliva in his mouth before spitting at Dottore’s face. All the Fatui in the hall had gone tense as a quiet splat resounded.
The Doctor’s expression remained unreadable, unnervingly so, as his gloved hand slowly wiped off the spit that had struck his cheek. “Ah, I see how it is… You know, I was being very, very generous with you despite knowing you’d put up a fight. But, I see that I need to do a little more to keep you in place.” Calmly standing up, he looked at the nervous soldiers with a small nod. “Bring him to the table. Make sure to secure him tightly as a precautionary measure.”
“More capsules to torment me with?” Alhaitham idly wondered before tensing up as something was injected into his body. All he managed to spot was the fur of Dottore’s coat before the Scribe found it difficult to move his limbs. With Alhaitham unable to hold himself up in such a state, it left him to be picked up and dragged off to where The Doctor wanted him.
Working efficiently, perhaps partly due to fear of punishment as well, Alhaitham found himself strapped to that familiar table again. Antiseptic and the scent of other chemicals once again flooded his nose. He attempted to move his body again, only to find that he had lost even more control. At the moment, the best he could do was turn his head around, but it wasn’t much. Part of him wondered if it was some sort of anesthetic, however… he could still feel . There was no numbness. Just a lack of control. Though he has never experienced such a thing before, he wondered if this was what it was like to be paralyzed.
“Tell me, do you know what’s so interesting about clipping the wings of birds?”
Alhaitham’s gaze glanced over as the Harbinger entered the room, already preparing things that he couldn’t entirely make out from this angle. Regardless, he felt a pit form in his stomach, a strong sense of foreboding filling him. He managed to provide a reply, not losing his calm demeanor. “Not my area of expertise I’m afraid.”
“Well, firstly, and most importantly, it prevents the bird from flying away without completely ruining its beauty.” Dottore made his way over, the unforgiving rolling of the cart’s wheels joining him. Alhaitham’s eyes were sharply trained on the scissors held expertly in The Doctor’s hand. Alhaitham’s head was too low to get a peek at what else was on that cart’s tray. “But, I think a physical demonstration would benefit you the most.”
“What is he even talking abou-” Alhaitham paused as he observed the Harbinger cut the fabric of his pants up to his knee, disposing of the now useless fabric without care. It wasn’t until Dottore set aside the scissors for a scalpel that more and more connections were forming in Alhaitham’s mind.
For once, since this entire thing started, a genuine and startling spark of pure panic filled his chest. A part of his mind was desperately searching for signs that the other was intending to use some sort of anesthetic to numb the area before cutting away. “I-...Is he not going to-?!”
Initially, the first cut into his ankle was nothing more than a normal sting one would get from accidentally cutting themselves. Perhaps, the knife slipped a little while cooking. Maybe you accidentally ran your skin against a sharper-than-expected surface. But then, it cut deeper and deeper . If Alhaitham was capable of it, his entire body would have jolted, his legs kicking as the merciless steel of the scalpel hungered for more. But he could do none of that, his body remaining limp and pliant under the effects of whatever drug he was given while still feeling every second of the torment.
Alhaitham was unable to attempt to silence himself in time. The room, consisting of him and Il Dottore, echoed with his agonized screams.
The “kindness” that came after that incident was ironic, painfully so. It also felt like nothing more than a way to mock him. As mad as Dottore is, the man knew what he was doing. And all Alhaitham could do was reluctantly accept the other’s care and help.
Alhaitham now only had a collar to keep him in place, not that he could really go anywhere anymore. Not unless he crawled. How degrading it was to think that would be the only way he’ll be able to go anywhere on his own again…
He despised every moment of his treatment – treatment for the damage Dottore himself caused. He was provided meals and given ambiguous medicine to help with healing, and the Harbinger would personally check up on him and change his bandages when needed. If Alhaitham could, he’d strangle The Doctor with his bare hands until the madman’s face changed into an unsightly color. The worst part is that Alhaitham knows that he’s been behaving slightly more…docile. What Dottore had done was enough of a threat – a threat Dottore had gone through with complete ease in the most fucked up way possible.
As Alhaitham sourly glared at the bloody, bandaged stumps at the end of his legs, he knew he had lost his ability to get out of here by himself.
He’ll gladly curse Il Dottore for as long as either of them lives.
As soon as his wounds healed just enough to ensure he’d be fine from that point forward, the tests started again and so did the interrogations. Alhaitham wasn’t stupid enough to not notice the courtesy he used to be given was now gone, every action now much colder and uncaring. That was fine by him. None of it was ever genuine anyway. They always had intended to break him down.
How long has it been now? He doesn’t know and he doesn’t even care. Everything blurs together until the concept of time itself never mattered. Not when he’s constantly carried to those testing rooms or made to pathetically crawl along the floor to get somewhere. Not when the humiliation and shame gnaw at him alongside the pain he faces every single day. Not when he can barely tell apart his own thoughts, near-constantly filled with emotions and ancient tongue that speaks and speaks, and speaks .
Alhaitham wonders if he’s insane yet. He wonders if he’s been insane since that very first divine knowledge capsule.
Whether he’s awake or asleep, he can recall flashes of things he shouldn’t be able to see. The images turn fuzzy, sometimes they remain somewhat clear. Yet, what persistently remains steady and strong were the emotions attached to the scenes he is forced to see. If Alhaitham didn’t end up getting killed by the Fatui, then the overwhelming grief and madness of a dead god are going to be what does him in. It infuriated him as he gradually came to realize how many of his mental barriers had crumbled or turned fragile as a result of these recollections.
On more than one occasion, he wondered if he should just give into it and let it whisk him somewhere far, far away. Yet, his natural stubbornness would always serve as some semblance of a roadblock.
At what point was Alhaitham himself his greatest threat and enemy rather than the one who kidnapped and experimented on him? He wasn’t quite sure as he numbly lay on the familiarly uncomfortable bed in his cell.
Suddenly, the door to his room opened, but he could not hear it. How could he when his hearing aids were robbed from him just like every other time? It was only by seeing hints of motion from the corner of his eye that he acknowledged that someone else was in the room with him. It didn’t take him long to recognize the man as Dottore. Alhaitham could only sigh softly as he let the Harbinger secure his hearing aids back on, sound soon returning to him.
“Can you hear me?”
“Mmn.” Alhaitham slowly blinked as he made a noncommittal hum in response. Idly, he wondered what his body must look like. For a while, the testing seemed to mostly come to a stop, but that also came with more neglect. Last he bothered to check, he thinks he was able to feel his ribs. He wonders how thin he has gotten. Has his skin changed tone from the lack of sunlight? Would he end up looking more like an ashen grey? He doesn’t know. But his hair certainly had gotten longer which was the closest to a clock he could get. For certain, it’s at least been some months since he was taken here.
“Well, I have some rather good news for you. It looks like you finally get to go home. We are certainly done here and I have managed to strike a good deal with the Dendro Archon. It would be rude of me to not keep my end of the bargain after all.”
More footsteps entered the room and he felt himself being unchained and picked up. He didn’t bother to waste energy fighting it even as his head spun with dizziness and a constant, dull ache.
“But, we do have to get you ready for when they retrieve you. We might as well make you presentable.”
Strapping him to that surgical table had long since stopped being needed to restrain him from leaving. Now, it was a simple measure to keep his body still as Il Dottore worked on him.
Alhaitham felt his bangs being brushed aside and held back with a clip. His breath subtly hitched as his body went taut. He tried to figure out what was happening now. Especially once special restraints were placed on him, caging his head from his neck and up. What was happening this time?
As a familiar drug was injected into his body, causing his to go slack, Alhaitham watched as Dottore approached him with something that appeared to be…some sort of clamp? Where was that going-
Alhaitham’s eyes widened with shock as the tool moved aside his eyelid and was forcing his left eye to remain open. He couldn’t close it and was forced to watch as The Doctor brought more surgical tools over. Alhaitham could easily see the man’s peaceful smile as if nothing about this was wrong, but something completely normal. Alhaitham felt ill in his stomach as something sharp was brought to his eye with precision behind it.
“Now, let’s see what they think of this little…”gift”.”
Alhaitham felt the desire to cry.
Slowly, he had to experience the moment half his world was blinded with darkness, his hearing aids letting him hear every little squelch. His throat stung as he screamed, desperately waiting for it to end. He wanted to go home.
But it felt so, so far away…
When all was said and done, Alhaitham thought that’d be the end of it and he would finally be handed back. But, he saw the contemplation in The Doctor’s body language. He saw it in the faint frown on the man’s lips. Alhaitham hoped and hoped it was nothing.
He was foolish to hope.
“I already got everything I could from you… So, you don’t really need this anymore either, right?” Alhaitham made a sound of protest as gloved fingers pried themselves into his mouth and gripped his tongue. “Besides, those sharp words of yours were always getting on people’s nerves. It’s probably best if you kept quiet entirely. Who knows…”
Tears fell from one eye while blood soaked the temporary bandages of the other. His tongue was tugged at, the unforgiving scalpel returning with a vengeance.
“Maybe me doing this for you will help make you a “more likable person” once you are back home.”
His screeches and unintelligible babbling went ignored. He choked and sputtered, unable to tell what was blood and what was saliva flooding his mouth. His voice broke as he felt the unholy burning as the bleeding wound was cauterized to help keep him alive.
By the end of it, he wasn’t even sure what was happening. But his hearing aids were removed and he was blindfolded. He could barely hear himself within his own mind and he could not tell anything that was going on. But he felt the familiar hand of Dottore pet his head gently as if it were to praise Alhaitham for making it through yet another procedure. Alhaitham felt so, so sick.
“He’s all set to be brought home. Make sure to handle him with care, as well as the note and gift.”
“Yes, Lord Harbinger.”