IONIR YGDRASSIL was in danger of completion. It was vexing.
It regrew its left arm --
"No."
-- and it was immediately torn off, flinging itself away into the jungle of simpletons, propelled by an unseen force. IONIR YGDRASSIL did not bother regrowing it again: it already understood well that the action was fruitless. This was the third time the arm had been lost.
The shape of a traitor came with far too many vulnerabilities, but IONIR YGDRASSIL had long since promised that it would assume that as its default. It had sworn that it would only assume its more monstrous forms when it was utterly alone, and only for the purpose of training. It was vexing.
Right now, after all, it was not alone.
The young woman called Nin was floating in the sky above it, looking down through the round lenses of her gas mask. It did not see her, for IONIR YGDRASSIL was not desperate enough to need eyes, but it perceived her clearly -- the shape of her, intruding upon space. She was different from the hologram, but still easily identifiable.
The black straitjacket she'd been wearing before had exploded outwards into countless white ribbons, orbiting and concealing her pale form. The gas mask she wore had turned a sterile white as well -- save for the lenses themselves, which had become a vivid red. Cylinders of simpleton wood dangled from her earlobes, swaying in the air like chimes.
None of this was a concern. It was only camouflage.
All around her, and now all around this place, were nearly invisible wires, writhing in the air like IONIR YGDRASSIL's own tendrils. It had not yet felt their bite, but just from observing them it was clear that they were incredibly sharp. A traitor body would be cut to pieces upon contact, but IONIR YGDRASSIL couldn't quite tell if its own wood would fare better.
It would experiment.
Green Wisdom crackled through the stump of his arm, accelerating its growth -- and a mass of green vines shot forth, twisting through the air as they made their way towards Nin from several different directions.
Above, below, left, right, before, behind. What Nin did in response to this would be illuminating. IONIR YGDRASSIL kept careful observation over everything around it. If it completed her, then that would be fine, but if not it would have enough information to adjust its strategy.
Nin swayed her head through the air, blonde hair caressed almost peacefully by the wind…
…and the vines closing in on her were immediately sliced to pieces.
The wires, then, were indeed sharp enough to pose a threat. The reason Nin had not moved so far was because even small adjustments of her position were enough to send the wires slashing through everything nearby. Just that shake of her head had been enough to annihilate part of IONIR YGDRASSIL's body, chunks of green raining down.
Even more concerning was the manner in which she'd sliced them… nine centimeters by nine centimeters. The killer cut, as it had been called during the awakening. A fragment of flesh too small to maintain consciousness.
IONIR YGDRASSIL growled, adjusting its stance. This woman knew how to kill it.
This was a bad situation -- and it was only getting worse, as alarm bells were going off in IONIR YGDRASSIL's mind, reminding it of its transgression.
It had promised NIGEN RUSH it would obey BaltayKojirough.
It had promised BaltayKojirough it would obey AtoyMuzazi.
And it had promised AtoyMuzazi that it would follow close behind.
It was breaking that promise, even if inadvertently.
White-hot pain blared in the back of IONIR YGDRASSIL's mind, like some rabid parasite was trying to tunnel its way out. This was not a matter of psychology. IONIR YGDRASSIL was bound by promises down to its very soul. For it to defy a promise would be the same as a traitor choosing not to breathe.
It could not waste time fighting here. A united front would be more effective, either way. It swung around on its heel, charging for the door and --
"Stop."
-- was prevented.
It was as if IONIR YGDRASSIL had suddenly found itself at the bottom of the ocean. Some kind of force was pressing upon its body from every direction, holding it in place. It could move still, but shakily and slowly -- not nearly quick enough to escape the enemy's grasp. In that moment, IONIR YGDRASSIL understood the nature of the one who wished to complete it.
The wires that surrounded them were just weapons, stretched out to fill the area -- not Nin's ability. No, the ability she'd been using was the power to make things repel each other. She'd had IONIR YGDRASSIL's body repel its arm, causing it to fly off -- and now she was having the very space around it repel it, pushing it inwards from every angle.
Vexing.
The information they'd had on Nin did not indicate she was this powerful. Its attention focused on the cylindrical earrings she was wearing. She did not have those in prior footage, and they served no obvious tactical purpose. Were they perhaps the source of this newfound strength?
IONIR YGDRASSIL tensed its body, creating small seeds just underneath the surface of his first layer, and prepared to fire. If it was able to destroy the earrings, that could return Nin to a lower state of power. From there, eliminating her would become much simpler.
It adjusted its stance as much as the pressure would allow, angling its torso in her direction, and…
"No."
…and…
"No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No."
…and IONIR YGDRASSIL found itself trumpeting in alarm as piece after piece of its body went flying off. Nine centimeters by nine centimeters broke away from its form, as if they'd been snapped free by invisible fingers, and sailed off into the air. It fired the seeds it had created in a state of alarm -- and with the slightest raise of her finger, Nin had the wires parry them out of the air.
She wagged the finger. "No," she said sweetly, and half of IONIR YGDRASSIL's head split off and fell to the ground.
At this rate, IONIR YGDRASSIL was going to be completed.
"No. No. No. No. No. No."
If it used a more monstrous shape, one of the forms designed for war, it could eliminate her with ease. It would be a simple matter. It knew this instinctively, but IONIR YGDRASSIL had already promised NIGEN RUSH that it would take the shape of a traitor so that none would have cause to fear it.
"No. No. No. No. No. No."
Of course, it understood that the purpose of that promise had not been to limit it in battle. Against an enemy such as this, who was slowly disassembling it without it being able to so much as move, NIGEN RUSH would have advised IONIR YGDRASSIL to take on any shape that was required. But the wording of the promise had been that IONIR YGDRASSIL should only take the shape of a traitor in front of others, the only exception being the sleep-shape.
"No. No. No. No. No. No."
This enemy counted as 'another', and so IONIR YGDRASSIL could not transform in front of her. It was bound by promises, chains binding it. In the face of careless words, all it could do was allow them to complete it.
"No. No. No. No!"
IONIR YGDRASSIL was afraid.
----------------------------------------
Muzazi understood that he was fighting a maelstrom of fury, each swing of the metal man's fists sending gusts of air pressure through the room.
Muzazi understood that a single solid blow would be enough to crush his muscles and demolish his bones.
Muzazi understood that the strength of his opponent's Aether was massively -- unnaturally -- above his own.
More than anything, though, he understood that his opponent… was an idiot.
Victor Yun's punches were clumsy and frantic, easily dodged regardless of their speed, and he seemed unable to divide his attention equally between Muzazi and Morgan. He'd focus on one of them entirely until the other moved in to strike, then switch his target to them with a flurry of panicked attacks. Animalistic snarls poured out of his throat as he stomped down on the floor, forming a noticeable crater, the impact sending monitors and scripts collapsing down to the ground -- but even so, the effort was fruitless.
Muzazi backed away, avoiding a swipe that would have snatched his head off. As he regained his footing, he felt his silver Aether buzz around him defensively once more. Despite everything, he couldn't help but allow a rueful smile to cross his lips.
The fool had tried it again.
For the last minute or so, Victor Yun had been trying to use the ability he'd employed against Blair Trace and Dule McMaloit -- the one that caused metal shards to appear within the bodies of his targets. But it seemed Mr. Yun didn't have a firm understanding of how Aether worked. You could only manifest objects directly into an individual's body if they weren't an Aether-user, or they were caught by severe surprise. Otherwise, their Aether would automatically defend against it, repelling the attempt.
This was the third time Yun had tried it against Muzazi now, and the frustration was clearly getting to him. A steel vein was twitching on his forehead as he ground his bloodstained teeth together.
"Fuck you!" he was screaming, the excitement making him slur his words, drunk on fruitless combat. "Go fuck yourself, asshole!"
Morgan's throwing needle struck him in the ear -- and as Victor pulled it out, slick with blood, he roared in pain and fury.
It wouldn't take long now.
This thug clearly didn't know what he was doing with his Aether, but the power he was displaying was one that would have required years of training. This strength was clearly something imposed on him, not something he'd nurtured naturally. Presumably, it had something to do with the bizarre form he'd assumed: perhaps an ability that in itself boosted his Aether capacity? Was such a thing even possible?
He didn't have time for detailed analysis. Victor Yun was a fool, to be sure, but he was not brain-dead. It seemed he'd accepted that his sure-hit ability wasn't as powerful as he'd expected. Now, instead, he threw his hands up towards the ceiling -- and as grey Aether coursed around his limbs, countless tiny shards of metal appeared just below that ceiling…
…and began to fall.
A rainstorm of blades, each sufficient to slice through skin and veins. Muzazi and Morgan dodged through the deluge as best they could, but as more and more shards fell it became obvious that they would be overwhelmed. Their war-robes were shredded by the metal, and the skin beneath began to open red. Closing the distance to Yun became difficult as well, as the bladestorm immediately around him was even more intense.
Still… there was nothing else for it.
Muzazi would have to throw caution to the wind and rush in, driving Luminescence into a vulnerable spot. It was either that or surrender to the slow defeat that was surrounding them.
He weaved through the metal blades, positioning himself to make his charge, and --
Noise.
A trumpeting sound from outside, so loud and hard that Muzazi could feel his bones shake. There was no human will behind that noise, but Muzazi could understand it all the same, like it was something he'd learnt long ago. A sound like that could only be one thing.
A cry for help.
Muzazi caught Morgan's eye as he dodged another clumsy punch, and the younger man nodded fractionally. Go, he seemed to be saying. For warriors like them in a battle like this, words were not necessary.
Perhaps his judgment of character had been off.
Thrusters exploded across Muzazi's body, immediately propelling him out of the room and through the door he'd been thrown into originally. The darkness of the building was immediately replaced by the harsh sunlight of the jungle outside -- but Muzazi didn't allow that transition to throw him off. His eyes flicked around in every direction, taking in the details of the situation he'd hurled himself into.
Not good.
Ionir Yggdrasil was in a bad state, large chunks missing from his torso, his limbs absent as his body lay on the floor. Above, the assassin named Nin hung in the air, surrounded by countless flowing white ribbons. And, nearly invisible, a mass of wires surrounding all of them, like a spider web.
If he wanted to end this cleanly, he'd have to move before Nin could realize what was going on. Hesitation was defeat.
Muzazi transitioned into a flip, landing atop Ionir, kicking off and launching himself directly at Nin with blazing thrusters. He could see shimmers of light all around him, the sun being reflected off the wires, and he used his thrusters to maneuver through the barrier like a starship in a dogfight. His body creaked from the stress of the unnatural movement, but he ignored it, as he did the slices of the wires around him.
In a second, he was upon Nin -- no, above her, Luminescence raised high above his head.
Muzazi brought the blade down, but Nin caught it in her pale hand with ease, white Aether giving her the strength she needed to hold it in place without being cut. That wouldn't be enough to deter him, though: Muzazi kept hold of Luminescence, swinging around it and slamming his leg directly into Nin's throat.
Nin choked, releasing the sword as she recoiled, gasping for air. Unlike Victor Yun, the transformation she'd undergone seemed to have affected her equipment more than her own body -- despite the significant increase in power, she herself was still flesh and blood.
As she flailed back, she jabbed a finger in his direction and screamed: "Stop!"
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She was better at this than Victor Yun, clearly. She was a professional killer, who no doubt had honed her skills in the criminal underworld. She went about this with a strategy in mind, considering her moves before she made them. Against most foes, she would be a deadly opponent.
But she was not a Special Officer.
By the time Nin had pointed to Muzazi, he was already gone. He and Luminescence had split up -- propelled by separate thrusters -- and circled around Nin, reuniting directly behind her. Muzazi snatched Luminescence back out of the air and -- with a final thruster enhancing the force -- slashed down Nin's exposed back.
The damage was not as much as it would have been with a normal person, but it was devastating all the same. Nin screamed as a long, cruel wound opened up, blood pouring out onto the ground far below. The wires around her danced crazy, writhing and snapping through the air, forcing Muzazi to retreat.
This fight was over. Anyone could see that, with a wound like the one Muzazi had dealt. Nin was no fool -- and even as she screamed, her wires pulled her off into the thick jungle. Muzazi considered pursuing, but no: splitting up would be foolish in this situation, and she was not the leader of the Kingmakers.
He had to prioritize the capture of Hans Allier.
Muzazi let himself fall to the ground, using the thrusters on his soles to slow his descent. The wounds he'd sustained thus far were mostly superficial -- there'd be trouble if they weren't taken care of, but he was not in immediate danger of bleeding out. He took a deep breath, recollecting himself, before turning and approaching the prone Ionir Yggdrasil.
The tree-man had certainly seen better days. In his present state, he was little more than a trunk himself, humanoid features roughly carved away by Nin's attacks. Clearly, it had been a bad match-up for the Fell Beast.
Muzazi dropped to one knee, so as to be eye-level with the square indentation that served as Ionir's 'face'.
"Can you regenerate?" he asked, looking at the sap flowing from the Fell Beast's injuries. "I was told you could."
Slowly, as if uncertain of the gesture's meaning, Ionir Yggdrasil shook his head.
Muzazi clicked his tongue. "Damnation… is there any other way I can treat you, any --" His eyes widened as he came to a realization. When it came down to it, Yggdrasil was a tree, so… "Is it water? Do you need water to regenerate?"
Ionir nodded.
Muzazi sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. This planet was arid in the extreme -- a dryness had lingered on his skin since the moment they'd disembarked. Getting enough water for Ionir to regenerate would be a difficult task.
There was no choice to be made -- they were comrades in arms. Muzazi extended his wrist.
"So long as I can still fight…" he said firmly. "Take what you need."
There was silence and stillness for just a moment. Then, almost gingerly, an arboreal tendril snaked out from within a crack on Ionir's head and crawled over onto Muzazi's wrist.
He winced as it punctured the vein.
----------------------------------------
IONIR YGDRASSIL did not understand.
Why would AtoyMuzazi do this? Given IONIR YGDRASSIL's present condition, there was no immediate benefit for AtoyMuzazi that would warrant making such a sacrifice. The pragmatic course of action would have been to leave IONIR YGDRASSIL
And yet, as IONIR YGDRASSIL began to regenerate, it could not help but feel grateful. Long ago, IONIR YGDRASSIL's creators had designed its kind to subsist best on traitor blood, so as to encourage ferocity in battle. It was under no illusions: they had been objects of terror in the galaxy. Things that frightened fledglings.
And yet… AtoyMuzazi had offered himself up without hesitation. IONIR YGDRASSIL could not comprehend that. IONIR YGDRASSIL could not comprehend that, at all.
More information was required. Was the answer in his personal history? IONIR YGDRASSIL subtly activated its Wisdom, peeking into AtoyMuzazi's past through the blood --
-- and for the first time in its existence, it felt horror.
"I'm sorry," ATOY MUZAZI said, rising to his feet, detaching the tendril. "That's all I can spare. Please, wait here and recover as best you can…"
He put his hand on his sword, his face hardening as he looked towards the building.
"...this won't take long," he finished.
All IONIR YGDRASSIL could do as ATOY MUZAZI left was watch, transfixed, and think… about what nightmares traitors really were.
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This was bullshit. This was such bullshit. This was fucking bullshit!
Victor Yun snarled as he swung his arm aiming to rip this asshole in half, only for him to miss by mere centimeters again. The Officer with the purple hair just chuckled as he ducked under the blow, stabbing his sword up into Victor's exposed armpit. The blow sparked off -- because of course it fucking did -- but even so, even so, Victor still felt dull pain under his skin.
It was not fucking meant to be like this! He was supposed to be a fucking beast! He could feel it, he could feel ridiculous goddamn Aetheral shit surging through his body, and yet he couldn't even do anything with it! They were fucking with him!
And this guy, this fucking asshole, was just running around and shouting letters of the alphabet! Was this a educational 'graph or were they trying to fucking kill each other?! The disrespect just angered Victor more, and the anger just made him lash out more, which made him miss more, which -- ARGH!
The words spilled out of his mouth, curses and slurs and insults that leapt between the obscene and the juvenile -- his anger leaping out of its body with whatever shape it could find.
"Fuck you, fucking cunt, asshole, shithead, pissant, twat!" he roared, punching the space where the Officer had just been. "Fuck, fuck, stop fucking moving, I'll fucking kill you!"
"Sounds like a reason to keep moving," said the Officer -- smugly, from right behind him. "A."
The saber struck out at the nape of Victor's neck, producing more uselessly dull pain. Even so, it was enough to send Victor into another frenzy -- he kicked back at the Officer, and missed once again.
Just before the Officer dodged, Victor saw it once more -- the arrogant smile on his lips.
That smile. That damn smile. That fucking fucking smile. Victor would rip that smile off his fucking face and eat it.
He whipped his head around, seeking out his enemy, and soon found him. The Officer was on the other side of the room, over by the ruined desk, and -- and this pissed Victor off more than anything -- he was sitting on it, carefree, his goddamn legs crossed. And he was smiling
Victor felt his teeth crack as he ground them too hard against each other.
"YOU FUCKER!" he roared, shaking with fury, his vocabulary quickly degenerating. "ASSHOLE! SHITHEAD! LOSER! YOU FUCKING BITCH!"
Then, three things happened, in very quick succession.
The Officer's smile disappeared.
The Officer disappeared.
Everything disappeared.
Victor of course could not see this, but this is what happened. He threw his head back, screaming, grasping blindly at the throwing needles that had skewered his eyeballs. He grasped one, wiggling it in place and causing further damage, before the slick blood coating his hands caused it to slip away.
He went to try again, still screeching in agony, but the Officer soon put a stop to that. He let loose a roundhouse kick, striking the top of Victor's head and driving the needles all the way in.
Victor fell back on the floor, his body twitching and writhing, and slowly growing still.
----------------------------------------
Muzazi looked down at the metal carcass on the floor, a grim frown on his face. In the dark, Victor Yun almost looked like another piece of rubble, all colour and life drained out of him.
"A bad way to die," he said, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
Morgan raised an eyebrow. "I don't know that there are any good ways to die," he said. "What about the one outside? How'd they go?"
Muzazi shook his head. "She got away, but I injured her severely. She won't be returning any time soon." He glanced at the door to the control center, on the other side of the room. "Has there been any movement within?"
"None," Morgan replied, whipping his sword through the air -- his eyes focused on the door the entire time. "There are no other exits, either, so if Allier was in there he hasn't gone anywhere. It's just…"
"What?" Muzazi approached the door, Luminescence drawn, ready to immediately attack should he spot any movement.
The words came from Morgan slowly, as if he wasn't quite sure of them. "This seems… too easy. I thought these Kingmakers were meant to be a serious threat?" He tapped Yun's body with a foot. "I mean, this guy clearly didn't know what he was doing."
"Don't do that," Muzazi snapped at Morgan's disrespectful gesture, before considering what he'd said. "Mr. Kojirough said it himself -- the threat these people pose is political, not physical. It's their presentation of a false Heir we need to worry about. They clearly have great power, but they don't understand how to use it. That's what's given us the advantage."
Morgan nodded, lips pursed, but he didn't seem quite convinced. All the same, he nodded to the sealed door.
"Shall we?" he asked.
Muzazi answered through action. He placed the palm of his hand flat against the door, created two thrusters in the seam, and forced it open with their blasting power.
As the door ground open, the duo got a look at the control center beyond, where the broadcast relay would usually be operated from. It had seen better days. Muzazi imagined it had smelt better days, too.
The butchered corpses of the guards lay in one corner, a hill of bleeding, rotting meat. Their dead faces were only barely illuminated by the green lights of the monitors above, screens displaying demands for a password. A demand, it seemed, that had gone unanswered. No wonder no announcement of the false Heir had gone out.
Muzazi noticed that immediately, but it was not his focus. No, his focus was on the man standing in the center of the room.
Hans Allier.
As expected, he didn't look the same as in the hologram -- he was only barely recognisable by the lines of his face. He was wearing long white robes, like some kind of ancient philosopher, and his hair had turned white as well -- glowing as it flowed around him like a lion's mane, somehow unburdened by gravity. His skin was somehow pale and faded, like aging parchment, unnaturally smooth.
The only thing about him that seemed normal were his eyes. Those dull, droopy eyes had gone unchanged from the hologram. His lips had become a deep black, and they smiled at Muzazi.
"We see you, Mr. Muzazi…" he cooed, staring at him. "We see you, man…"
Muzazi pointed Luminescence at Allier as he stepped into the room, followed closely by Morgan. As he walked, Muzazi saw that there was someone tied to a chair behind Allier -- another guard, judging from the uniform. Dead, his neck snapped.
Another life snuffed out by scum like this. Hot anger ran through Muzazi's veins, but it did not enter his voice.
"Surrender," he ordered. "Victor Yun is dead. Your assassin Nin has run. You're alone, Mr. Allier."
Allier's smile flickered, but it did not fade. When he spoke, it was with the same calm cadence.
"I understand you, brother. I get you."
Muzazi's eyes narrowed. "I very much doubt that."
"Oh, but I do, man. It's my ability, you dig? Just from looking at you, I get it all. It's even more powerful when I'm like this. I don't even know where it gets the info from when I'm in this form, but… it's everything. Everything there is to you. Even stuff you might not know."
Muzazi adjusted his stance, drawing Luminescence back -- a stinger ready to strike. "This is your last chance. Surrender."
The black smile opened, just slightly, showing predatory teeth.
"Do you think Marie would forgive the kind of coward you've become, Mr. Muzazi?" said Hans Allier.
For swordsmen in the modern day, there was nothing more important than speed.
In combat, warriors would more often than not go up against enemies armed with guns -- and firearm technology advanced all the time, regardless of their wielder's skill. Even with Aether, an unprepared body would be shredded apart by a hail of bullets or plasma. A swordsman had to be quick enough to repel such an onslaught.
Atoy Muzazi had always taken that to heart, and so had trained to the point where he was able to unleash six sword-strikes in a single second.
Muzazi cut Hans Allier ten times in a tenth of a second. His arms, his legs and his tongue went flying off, neatly sliced away, and the remaining five slashes sliced so deeply into his torso they nearly cut him in half. Allier gasped in shock and pain as his neutralized body fell limp to the ground, scraps of his robes raining down around him.
He choked wordlessly, gasping for air, his wide eyes staring at Muzazi in horror.
Without another word, Muzazi solemnly sheathed his blade. Across from him, Morgan just blinked, pale. In the time Muzazi had begun and ended the battle, Morgan had only slid his own saber halfway out of its scabbard.
He swallowed. "Well… uh, nicely done," Morgan said. "Nice… skills."
Muzazi said nothing in response. To tell the truth, he was surprised at his own actions. He hadn't even used his thrusters, and yet he'd moved faster than ever before. Could simple fury really push a body to such heights? He looked down at Allier, waiting for his enemy to pass on from this world.
Surprisingly, though, Hans Allier showed no signs of dying. Even with those injuries, he just continued to writhe around, still full of energy.
There was no blood, not even bone, just a consistent slab of that same pale material all the way through the severed stumps. The thought made Muzazi somewhat queasy, but the texture of it almost reminded him of cheese. It had been so soft, too -- had the strange transformation actually made Hans Allier's body weaker?
This was not his area of expertise, nor one of interest. The threat had been neutralized. There was little else to it.
"It doesn't seem he's going to bleed out," Muzazi said sternly, looking down at the writhing torso. "We should get him on the ship. The false Heir wasn't here, but I'm sure Mr. Kojirough will wish to speak with his guardian."
----------------------------------------
He'd seen it. He'd seen it.
Even as Hans Allier was sliced apart, even as what was left of him was loaded onto the enemy ship, even as he was bound by the growing branches of a living tree, even as he was defeated, humiliated, captured, he couldn't help but grin to himself.
Because he'd seen it.
Oh, Atoy Muzazi, he thought to himself, giggling wordlessly. You poor bastard. You poor bastard, man.
----------------------------------------
Muzazi tapped the monitor in front of him, and the Star Raptor began to rise up, initiating its departure sequence. Morgan was in the copilot's seat across from him, while Ionir was restraining Hans Allier within his own body at the back of the ship.
They'd considered pursuing Nin into the jungle, but in the end they'd decided it wasn't worth the risk of losing Allier. There'd be Supremacy reinforcements on the way now that they'd let them know of the situation on the planet -- they could continue the hunt for the injured assassin.
"Another sin, another stator," Morgan said, cracking his neck. He glanced down at Muzazi's lap. "You know, there are machines that do that kind of stuff for you."
Muzazi just continued to wipe the blood from his sword, a frown on his face. "Damnation…" he muttered. "Luminescence truly got filthy this time. I need to be more careful with it."
They’d achieved success in this mission, but that didn’t mean that anything had really come to an end. The strange machinations aboard the Child Garden would still be afoot -- someone had tried to kill him, after all. Gustavo Mordecai had been a previous victim, according to Morgan’s story, and now the mastermind had turned their gaze in his direction.
But why? What would they gain from that?
He was broken out of his speculation by the sound of Morgan’s sigh.
"Luminescence? You too?" The younger man wrinkled his nose, voice full of distaste. "Ah, everyone's naming their swords these days… Leviathan, Luminescence… don't you find it embarrassing?"
Muzazi shrugged, the ship rumbling as they ascended over the treetops. "I suppose I can see how you might find it a little strange," he admitted, a fond smile on his lips as he looked down at the weapon on his lap. "But I've been with this sword for a long time now. Through thick and thin. It's inevitable that I'd grow attached."
Morgan leaned back in the copilot's seat, putting his feet up on the dash. "Nah," he said. "I still don't get it. What's the story with your sword, then?"
"I've had it a long time." Muzazi nodded.
Morgan furrowed his brow. "Since when?"
Muzazi blinked. "A long time…" he said simply. "Yes, a very long time now."
"Since when?" If anything, the confusion on Morgan's face only deepened.
"What?"
"When did you get the damn thing, man?" Morgan gestured towards Luminescence, clearly growing annoyed with Muzazi's reticence.
Muzazi swallowed, and when he spoke it felt like his voice was far away. "Yes. I've had it a long time now. I'm sorry, I don't feel -- I don't feel comfortable discussing this with you. I don't know you well enough."
Morgan frowned, almost looking hurt. He shrugged. "That's all you had to say."
The younger man looked away, focusing on their flight path back to the Child Garden. The smile slowly faded from Muzazi's face, and the sword on his lap suddenly felt ominously heavy.
Wait.
When had he gotten Luminescence?