The doors had not even unlocked and Landel had already began granting them more examples of his cryptic rambles. Hnn. Perhaps Scar was growing paranoid after all this time, but it almost sounded as though as if he had yet another surprise in store for them, be it tonight or tomorrowThe doors finally unlocked, and the former lion moved into the
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Meanwhile, Javert's faintly snarky reaction only angered Sechs further, as it only deepened his festering suspicions about him. He growled at Javert, curling his lips up to reveal sharpened teeth. "SCREW your STUPID cravat!" he roared in the other man's face, giving him a little shake for good measure. Yet despite his outburst, Sechs released Javert with a not-so-gentle shove.
"It's kinda too late for those notes to get destroyed anyways!" he snarled, taking a step back from Javert, "I don't know if you got the news yet, but somehow Landel found out about Jill! And now she's probably dead or something!"
Now all the guilt and humiliation Sechs suffered was converging into a dangerous chemical reaction, forcing the infuriated Replica to loudly pour out his accusations at his side-burned suspect.
"I'm sure as HELL know I've talked about the notes to the right people. Well, almost everyone!" Narrowing his eyes, Sechs raised his machete, keeping its glinting tip pointed towards Javert's precious cravat. "You just run off with those papers without asking last night, and then I hear about Jill being tortured by Landel over the intercom!"
Sechs then made a threatening jab in the air with his blade, "How 'bout explaining to me how that happened, huh?!"
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But the infuriated tirade pouring from Sechs helped to clarify matters somewhat. Regardless of his outward bearing, Javert had been surprised by Sechs's sudden anger; it helped to know the cause of that anger at least had its basis in something resembling rationality. He had been able to talk his way out of it before; there was no reason to think he couldn't do it again.
"By the time I got here, your room was in a total state of disarray. The notes in question were scattered all over the floor. By whom? Let us say the people who took you last night. It stands to reason that Landel prefers not to have complete idiots in his employ; I think you can draw your own conclusions there. If anything, the orderlies saw the notes long before I arrived.
"As for me," he continued, and most of the amusement in his voice had disappeared by now, "I copied the notes, returned to my room, and placed the notes under my bed before I fell asleep. They were still there and clearly undisturbed this morning."
He reciprocated the jab of Sechs's machete with his own finger, straight at the taller man's chest, and felt a little stupid for doing so. Perhaps Edgeworth had rubbed off on him somewhat. "I am not the one who left the documents out for all to see to begin with. Anyone could have stopped by your room and gone through the papers on the floor before I arrived, and I would have been none the wiser considering the state of your room. Quite possibly someone did, considering how time works in this place. If your notes were indeed the means by which Landel discovered Jill's identity and location, then you have no-one but yourself to blame."
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Instead, Javert's verbal counterattack impacted Sechs like the backfire of a foolishly handled gun. The older man laid out his own explanation, a calm and logical answer that packed a far stronger punch than Sechs' own explosive accusations. The words rapidly invaded the Replica's system like a good dose of sedatives, smothering his rage and sending his head spinning with a fresh new wave of panic. The black drug immediately feasted on Sechs' inflamed guilt, sadistically echoing Javert's incriminating reply with no relent.
As Javert spoke, the beastly fury on the android's face vanished with a gasp that came out more as a pained growl than anything. Suddenly overwhelmed, Sechs lowered the machete and took another step back, his eyes wide and darting about in frenzied thought.
"Wha-... But-!" he stammered, avoiding eye contact with Javert as he gripped into his scalp with his free hand, "I didn't know the staff were coming in and-- I didn't even get to--"
No way! It couldn't have been Sechs' fault! He couldn't help that he was captured that night! He may have spread the note's information as a way to boost his ego, but he was sure he had been careful, and in the end he had good intentions! He wasn't the one to blame!
But Javert's retort stacked up against him, and before Sechs knew it, that terrible burden of guilt fell on his heart with the same crushing force as a ton of garbage falling upon the Scrapyard from Tiphares. To think that the Radioman and Second World's efforts to help everyone trapped in the institute may have been ruined by one stupid patient! That mishap could have lead to whatever fate befell Jill as well! Was everyone's chance at escape squandered now? Such responsibility was too much for Sechs to bear, not when he so desperately wanted to help end the institute's nefarious workings and return home!
Now Sechs was shouting as he almost doubled over from the strain, "No! NO! It CAN'T be my fault! I...!"
With little warning to his visitor, Sechs' rage suddenly flared up over his distress. He took a threatening step towards Javert, raising his machete once more and snarling at the man through a curtain of wild hair. "DAMNIT! Just-- Just give me back those notes already and get outta my face NOW!"
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He was tempted to hold onto the notes--what was the use of giving them to someone so easily affected by his own emotions, so quick to act without thinking? Still, he had given his word, and besides, the damage had likely already been done. With a faintly skeptical look on his face, he handed the papers over.
"Bear in mind the same thing could have happened before any of you happened upon the note upstairs," he said flatly. "If anything, Landel could have beaten all of you to the papers and left them there to reduce suspicion."
It was as much of an attempt at diffusing the overwhelming guilt as Sechs was going to get. Javert turned to leave; there was little point in staying longer. Still, he couldn't resist a parting shot just before the door slammed shut behind him.
"Have a care, next time you should think to accuse someone so rashly. I imagine there are patients here even less forgiving than I."
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Slamming the drawer shut with a loud slam, Sechs turned back to face Javert with a growl; he may have been right about Landel finding the notes first, and there was still the possibility that one of the four patients who were with Sechs that night may have betrayed the papers, but Sechs didn't care, his fuse had already been shortened, if not blasted by now!
"I said SHUT UP and get your side-burned ass outta here!" he roared at Javert's retreating back.
The door slammed shut, leaving Sechs alone with the drug in his body and Javert's stinging words. Glaring at the empty spot where Javert once stood, all Sechs could do was wearily slouch and mutter his unheard reply, "Yeah, I'm gonna deal with one of those patients tonight actually..."
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The radio man made no mentioning of Jill, no disasters against him or the Second World group. Just another question to add to the already huge pile of questions Sechs and everyone else already had. Eagle? Landel did mention that name once at one point didn't he? It was tough for Sechs to remember, what with all the sedatives that had been pumped into his arms throughout the day...
It didn't matter now. Sechs had finished expelling the worst of his rage and guilt over his visit with Javert. He was still heaving and panting from his fit, but his head felt clearer now, like a cloud of pollution had been cleared from his brain. It didn't change the fact that he may have been the one who failed to protect the information of the notes, but he couldn't do anything about it now. He had Recluse to deal with.
Ready for the night, Sechs rose to his feet and kicked the scattered parts of the chair out of his way. He quietly put on the remaining pieces of his armor, his emotions were far too deep inside to show on his blank face. He gathered his things; the axe, machete, one of the metal pipes from his first roommate and the teleportation ring. Sechs decided against bringing the radio, it seemed its announcer wasn't planning to broadcast anymore messages for the night. Lastly, Sechs picked up the flashlight and tested its power; it flickered slightly in his hand, but managed to keep up a steady beam of light, he would have to find new batteries for it soon.
Finally, Sechs put on the finishing touches to his battle gear: the single bold "6" on his temple. Remembering Michelangelo's words from the last night they spent together, Sechs was sure to correctly draw the number on his skin this time.
Ready at last, Sechs approached the door and slowly opened it. He was greeted by both the darkness of the hallway, and the sinister kind festering in his mind.
"Why won't you let me take over for ya?" the shadow hissed, its liquid form slithering just out of the corner of Sechs' eye. "You won't have to deal with all this pain or responsibility anymore. You're not fit for this, you weren't designed for it!"
Sechs winced and clamped his hand against the back of his cold neck. Not now! Leave me alone! He focused on that same light that helped him before, but its luminosity was hampered by the dread and guilt that shadowed his heart; it was barely enough to push the dark voice just out of ear shot.
"Alright then, but remember that once Recluse beats ya, I'll be there to finish ya off!" the drug whispered as Sechs stepped out into the hallway.
[To here.]
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