29/06/30 The Atomic Ball: Part III

Iron did not know it yet, but prison was the safest place he could be.

Well, let’s say it’s about time for him to know.

Three days had passed since Iron had been put behind bars. Being an atom, he did not require further sustenance, what a silly premise! He slept his full, never having a stomach to feed or guts to empty, contenting himself with his lot. One fateful morning, Iron woke to a violent commotion at the police station - which connected to the jail - which itself contained four cells - - creating heavy tremors. Iron took shelter in one of the corners of the circular room, protecting his nucleus from a potentially collapsing ceiling made in solid, though stuff.

A key became engaged in the door of his cell, and unlocked it; Iron had no visual out of his cell, the walls being - obviously - electronproof.

It was Ruthenium.

“The Osmegilium is no longer safe! We are going mobile!” he spoke, active.

“And here I was expecting the murders would continue, and you would have no choice but to rehabilitate the best detective in the force!”

“You are still primary suspect! And for the murders, well... you will see soon enough for yourself.”

Iron brushed it off and followed his captor. Where else would he go anyway?

From the corridor, they entered a transition room with more doors and more locks. Specifically two.

The room led them to open air, in a large, square, interior court. The court had a single exit point through another security point, and then finally they would arrive in yet another interior court which connected to the other interior court that connected with the police station, which connected to the outside world.

“Wait. There’s a fire at the police station!” exclaimed Iron.

Black clouds emanated in the distance, with only one possible source.

“Stay quiet. They are still here.”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t you understand? This facility is under attack. By atoms.”

“Isn’t there a single exit? How will we escape a jail you don’t control?”

“By turning into a liquid state, and slowly crawling our way across the walls.”

This was not a new idea. They had trained for it.

“My melting point is lower. I should go first, so as to not arouse suspicion.”

“I am ahead of you. In all ways! Just follow quietly!”

They eventually reached the outer walls of the police station. Ruthenium pressed a button, causing great flames to dart out of the smoking ruins; soon enough, this place would be ashes and dust.

Not losing any more time, the two detectives liquified themselves, stuck to what remained of the walls, and slowly made their way across the place they had used for work for countless eons.

Iron was not prepared for the carnage. Pools of free neutrons. Electron holes across the walls - he had to circumnavigate them not to reveal himself; and through the gaping hole left by a large explosion, he witnessed gangs of atoms attacking each other with siege equipment and weapons that had come straight out of their armory. The antimatter canon was clearly shooting at the Hydrogilium.

But that wasn’t the worst.

He was about halfway through the main visitor room when he witnessed 76 dead neutrons on the floor. The dead neutrons of Osmium. He had been so full of life! His inert remains were like any other; yet they were his, and it made all the difference. The corpse of a friend radiates the grief of what has been lost.

Iron almost lost his discipline over himself, as a looter, Uranium, went right by him, unsuspecting of his presence.

He was suspecting something, of course, flames don’t appear for any reason.

He carried off old landmines, which were some of the worst material there was to be taken from the armory, indicating its exhaustion.

Once outside, they accelerated their pace, and made it to the relative safety of an empty field. There they made themselves solid again.

“We must proceed to the Hydrogilium.” declared Iron.

“We just escaped with our lives!”

“Don’t you understand? This is an actual war out there! We must join with whatever official structure remains!”

“You are my prisoner. I have responsibilities, and I intend to perform what law enforcement I may reasonably achieve!”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes!”

Being held for a crime for which one is innocent! What a chore!

“I didn’t do it!”

Just as Iron said it, an electron burst passed right by his head. In the moment, he made the call to escape. He passed from solid to gas, scorching much of what stood around him.

In gas form, atoms could travel at dizzying speeds across the air; it was not an option until now because Ruthenium was holding equipment, which would not follow him, and Iron did not expect to care.

But now he did.

Ruthenium gave pursuit; still Iron was the lighter one, and possessed a speed advantage. He reached the Hydogilium not without dodging a few antimatter ordinances.

To his dismay, there was no atom present on the premises. He went room by room, under gaseous form, now much closer to being reached by his jailor, as he had to track back on each broken door, create some distance, and check some new room. All the while, this particular building was actively bombarded.

Alas! Ruthenium achieved grabbing him; Iron tried shaking him off by ricocheting off the ground, with tiles flying off in every direction.

This is when they accidentally revealed a trap door, hidden in the floor. Iron bashed it wide open, entering in a single, powerful motion.

There he was.

Hydrogen.

The small yet luxurious chamber blasted them with cold rays, forcing them back into a solid state. By that point both detectives were attempting to rematerialize apart from each other, yet failed; and so, their bodies were useless to them, confusingly intertwined.

“Iron. Ruthenium. You were not supposed to be here.” spoke Hydrogen.

“What is this? What are you doing?” asked Iron.

“Isn’t obvious? Waiting for everything to kill everything else.”

Everything? Dead? What was actually going on?

“Yes, I see your confusion,” continued Hydrogen, “For you, this must still be a simple murder. But I assure you, before the end, metal shall murder fellow metal; lanthanide shall murder fellow lanthanide; they will sooner run out of strangers than run out of their problem: only one of us can win the figurine-fiction novellas.”

“And you intend this to be you.”

Hydrogen’s proton flipped, a tell-tale sign of stress.

“You made it about color. Not because you kept the best for yourself, but because that way, by that criterion, some atoms would be forced to face scarcity. They would be forced towards more extreme forms of thinking. Then you killed Oxygen, not because he was your adversary, but precisely because you were not; thus setting in motion a sequence of violent, genocidal events that would leave you alone, the choiceless option for victory by virtue of mere existence.”

“That’s about it, yes.”

“You forgot something very important.”

“Oh? And what is it?”

Iron laughed out loud, delirious from the insanity of his world.

“There are two of us. And you only have one bullet.”