Chapter 128: The Statue

Chapter 128: Chapter 128: The Statue

POV Switch: Lyra

Lyra ran, her legs pumping against the cobblestone.

Her legs were burning, the muscles screaming. Her lungs were screaming, the air sharp. Her heart was pounding, the beat loud. She was exhausted, her strength fading. She was terrified, her fear palpable. She was furious, her anger burning.

Behind her, the mob was still chasing, their footsteps echoing. Their shouts echoed through the streets, the sound loud. Their footsteps thundered against the cobblestones, the noise heavy. Their weapons glinted in the sunlight, the metal bright.

Beside her, Brick Head was running, his form moving. His arms were pumping, the motion rhythmic. His legs were flying, the pace quick. His face was red, the color flushed. He was panting, his breath ragged. He was sweating, the liquid dripping. He was grinning, his expression joyful.

"This way!" he shouted, his voice loud.

He turned a corner, his body spinning. Lyra followed, her form moving. They ran down an alley, the walls closing in. They jumped over a fence, their bodies soaring. They climbed a wall, their hands gripping. They dropped into a courtyard, their feet landing.

The mob ran past, their footsteps fading. Their shouts faded, the sound diminishing. Their footsteps disappeared, the noise gone.

Lyra collapsed against a wall, her body slumping. She was gasping for air, her breath ragged. Her body was trembling, the shakes running through her. Her hands were shaking, the tremors visible.

Brick Head collapsed beside her, his form dropping. He was gasping too, his breath heavy. But he was still grinning, his expression joyful.

"We lost them!" he said, his voice triumphant. "We actually lost them!"

Lyra glared at him, her eyes burning.

"This is your fault," she spat, her voice venomous.

Brick Head blinked, his expression confused. "My fault?"

"Yes! Your fault! You insulted a statue! You started a riot! You dragged me into this!"

Brick Head scratched his head, his fingers moving. "I didn’t drag you into this. You just happened to be there."

"I was getting food! I was minding my own business! And then you ran at me screaming!"

"I was running for my life!"

"You could have run the other way!"

"I didn’t see the other way!"

Lyra groaned, a long, frustrated sound. She buried her face in her hands, her palms pressing. She was exhausted, her strength depleted. She was frustrated, her patience wearing thin. She was done, her will breaking.

"We need disguises," Brick Head said, his voice calm.

Lyra looked at him, her eyes meeting his. "What?"

"Disguises. So they don’t recognize us."

Lyra stared at him, her expression surprised. "That’s... actually a good idea."

Brick Head grinned, his expression proud. "I have my moments."

He reached into his pocket, his hand emerging. He pulled out two masks, the objects simple. They were simple, the design basic. Wooden, the material rough. Painted with smiling faces, the expressions cheerful.

Lyra stared at them, her eyes fixed. "Where did you get those?"

"I borrowed them."

"Borrowed?"

"Yeah. From a shop."

"You stole them."

"I borrowed them. I’ll give them back. Eventually."

Lyra sighed, a long, resigned sound. She took one of the masks, her hand closing. She put it on, the wood pressing against her face. It was uncomfortable, the fit tight. It was itchy, the surface rough. It smelled like old wood, the scent musty.

Brick Head put on the other mask, his form shifting. He looked ridiculous, his appearance comical. The smiling face was too big for his head, the proportion off. It was tilted to the side, the angle awkward.

"How do I look?" he asked, his voice muffled.

"Like an idiot."

"Thanks!"

---

They walked through the streets, their footsteps steady.

The masks helped, their purpose clear. People didn’t stare, their eyes averted. People didn’t point, their fingers still. People didn’t chase, their pursuit ceasing.

They were just two people in masks, their identities hidden. Two people in a crowd, their presence unnoticed. Two people who didn’t matter, their existence ignored.

Lyra kept her head down, her gaze lowered. Her hand was near her gun, her fingers ready. She was ready for anything, her body tense.

Brick Head kept his head up, his gaze forward. His hands were in his pockets, his posture relaxed. He was humming a tune, the melody off-key. He was completely oblivious, his mind elsewhere.

"So," he said, his voice casual. "Where are we going?"

"The statue," Lyra said, her voice flat.

Brick Head blinked, his expression confused. "The statue?"

"Yes. The one you insulted."

"Oh. Why are we going there?"

"Because you said it was controlling the people. We need to destroy it."

Brick Head nodded, his head bobbing. "Right. The statue. The dick statue."

Lyra’s eye twitched, her expression darkening. "Don’t call it that."

"Why not? It looks like a dick."

"It doesn’t look like a dick."

"It does. I saw it. It’s a dick."

"It’s a statue of the Lord of Peace."

"The Lord of Peace has a dick head."

Lyra groaned, a long, frustrated sound. She kept walking, her footsteps steady. Brick Head followed, his steps matching.

They walked for a few minutes, the time passing slowly. The streets were quieter now, the noise diminished. The crowds were thinner, the people fewer. The buildings were taller, the structures imposing.

"So," Brick Head said, his voice curious. "What’s your deal?"

Lyra looked at him, her eyes meeting his. "My deal?"

"Yeah. Your deal. What’s your story?"

Lyra didn’t answer, her silence speaking.

"Come on," Brick Head said, his voice encouraging. "We’re partners now. Partners share things."

"We’re not partners."

"We’re not?"

"No."

"Then what are we?"

Lyra thought about it, her brow furrowing. "We’re... acquaintances."

"Acquaintances who run from mobs together?"

"Yes."

"That sounds like partners to me."

Lyra sighed, a long, resigned sound. "Fine. We’re partners."

Brick Head grinned, his expression pleased. "Great! So what’s your deal?"

Lyra was silent, her expression thoughtful. She was thinking, her mind working. She was remembering, her memories surfacing.

"I was blind," she said, her voice quiet.

Brick Head blinked, his expression surprised. "What?"

"I was blind. My whole life. I couldn’t see anything."

"But you can see now."

"Yes."

"How?"

Lyra hesitated, her expression uncertain. "Daniel."

Brick Head tilted his head, his expression curious. "Daniel?"

"He’s... he’s the one who saved me. He’s the one who gave me my sight. He’s the one who gave me a purpose."

Brick Head nodded slowly, his head bobbing. "He sounds like a good guy."

"He is."

"You like him."

Lyra’s face went red, the color flooding. "What?"

"You like him. I can tell."

"I don’t—"

"You do. Your face is red."

"It’s not."

"It is."

Lyra looked away, her gaze dropping. Her face was burning, the heat intense.

"I don’t know," she said quietly, her voice barely audible. "I don’t know what I feel."

Brick Head nodded, his expression understanding. "That’s okay. Feelings are complicated."

Lyra looked at him, her eyes meeting his. "You understand?"

"I understand a lot of things. I just don’t talk about them."

"You talk about panties."

"That’s different."

"How is it different?"

"Panties are simple. Feelings are complicated."

Lyra shook her head, her expression amused. She was smiling, a small, tired smile.

"You’re weird," she said, her voice soft.

"I know."

---

They kept walking, their footsteps steady.

The streets were getting narrower, the paths shrinking. The buildings were getting taller, the structures rising. The shadows were getting deeper, the darkness growing.

"So," Brick Head said, his voice casual. "What’s the plan?"

Lyra looked at him, her eyes meeting his. "The plan?"

"Yeah. The plan. To destroy the statue."

"I don’t have a plan."

Brick Head blinked, his expression surprised. "You don’t have a plan?"

"No."

"But you’re the smart one."

"I’m not the smart one."

"You’re smarter than me."

"That’s not saying much."

Brick Head laughed, a genuine laugh. "True."

Lyra sighed, a long, resigned sound. "We’ll figure it out when we get there."

"That’s not a plan."

"It’s the best I can do."

Brick Head nodded, his head bobbing. "Okay."

---

They reached the plaza, their footsteps ceasing.

It was large, the space open. It was open, the area wide. It was empty, the space deserted.

In the center, there was a fountain, the structure rising. Water sprayed from the top, the liquid arcing. It sparkled in the sunlight, the droplets glistening.

And in the middle of the fountain, there was a statue, the figure standing.

It was tall, the height impressive. It was robed, the fabric flowing. It had a kind face, the features gentle. Its arms were outstretched, the gesture welcoming.

Lyra looked at it, her eyes fixed. Her head tilted, the angle shifting. Her eyes narrowed, the gaze sharp.

She was silent for a long moment, the time passing.

Then she spoke, her voice flat.

"You know what?" she said, her voice calm. "You’re right."

Brick Head looked at her, his expression curious. "About what?"

"The statue. It does look like a dick."

Brick Head grinned, his expression triumphant. "I told you!"