ares after the war / ace {✾}

They lock him in a room with a clear view of the open streets.

That first, panic filled night, he passes his time by watching the chaos unfold. And it's funny, in it's own sad and ironic way, that on the most calamitous day of his young life — he feels more grounded than he's felt in a very long time. A boy is a bomb; so many times already in his short years, he's found countless reasons to detonate. Hell, the only reason he followed Esra here in the first place was because the explosives competition sounded so exciting.

They denied him entry to compete after the first round of applications. Guess answering "something so bright and big it'll burn the whole crowd's retinas or some shit" to the project description line wasn't the right call. He'd chuckle if his heart wasn't racing, his normal hunger for mayhem settling into a quiet growl from the pit of his stomach. He misses Simone's pancakes a lot for an ungrateful brother who never once told her thank you.

For everything.

He wonders about Esra alone with her woes, and he wonders about the disease that nobody knows shit about, and most of all he wonders why he of all people had been worthy of this sudden good luck streak. So many people are hurting, and here he is. Cramped and bored out of his head, but absolutely fine. Not a single scratch on him, not even a prank to apologize for. The day comes and goes without anyone reason for him to feel like the menace he's convinced himself that he is. Proven.

And dawn arrives prettily, kindly, hopefully.