Atoy Muzazi's heart had stopped twice tonight.
He was becoming distressingly used to the sensation. The sudden mind-shattering pain, the spreading cold like a blizzard had started in his veins -- and then the second agony, the moment his thrusters restarted his heart. At this point, their activation was basically automatic.
Dragan Hadrien wasn't the only one who could cheat life and death.
The kick struck Muzazi in the stomach, sending him flying -- and once again, the real world flickered into existence around him. As before though, as with every time, it was only there for a fraction of a fraction of a second, leaving Muzazi no time to do anything but weakly scatter some Aether before he was pulled back --
“Gemini Dominion.”
-- into the hell he'd been selected for.
Hadrien was timing his attacks well. He was making sure to launch Muzazi as fast as possible before deactivating his Dominion -- leaving his opponent no time to adjust his path before he got recorded again. This was a trap from which there was no escape. This was a slaughterhouse painted a ghastly white.
That's what you think… isn't it, Hadrien…?
Muzazi fell through the endless expanse of Dragan Hadrien's mind, limbs flapping through the air as an imaginary wind blasted at him. All around him, pillars and temples shifted and changed -- in this place, even the environment was just an extension of Hadrien's will. Muzazi braced himself as much as he could as one of the pillars slammed into him like a train, sending him flying off once more.
Here it comes.
Muzazi's eye began to sink into darkness… and then, as the real world made its momentary appearance once more, it opened wide and bright.
He had not been spending this time in idleness, bemoaning his own pain and allowing himself to be beaten. He was a Special Officer of the Supremacy. He was a warrior. When a warrior found an opportunity, they took advantage of it. When a warrior couldn't find an opportunity…
…they made one of their own.
Indeed, each time Muzazi was released from the ability, the real world flickered in his vision only for a fraction of a fraction of a second. There was no time for him to inspect his environment or see what was going on out there. Essentially, he was blind to the outside world right now -- and he wasn't the only one.
You're inside Dominion as well, aren't you, Hadrien?
So you can't see what's happening outside.
So you can't see what I've been preparing for you!
Given the amount of time they were outside of Hadrien's ability, the most he'd have been able to register was that it was bright outside. Even then, though, that was easily mistaken for the glow his own Aether produced upon manifestation. So… he wouldn't be ready for this.
When Muzazi was thrown outside of Gemini Dominion, he only had time to weakly scatter his Aether. And he was thrown outside and pulled back in, again and again and again… and he weakly scattered his Aether, again and again and again. Until it was ready.
Until six great pillars of light surrounded them, piercing through the darkness.
This, too… can be commanded at the speed of thought.
Radiant…
The sword of godlight erupted into Muzazi's hands, the recoil of its creation stopping his flight instantly and freeing him from Gemini Dominion. He planted his feet down on the rubble beneath him, drawing his sword back. A short distance away, Hadrien flew back, eyes wide as he realized that he was now the one caught in a trap.
The Shooting Star threw his hands forward.
…Almighty!
“Gemini Railgun!”
Muzazi stabbed forward, a bar of light slicing the dust before him in two and surging towards Hadrien. At the same time, Hadrien fired a stream of projectiles -- car parts and shattered concrete and twisted metal -- so rapid and so numerous that they were more like a beam than anything else.
The attacks clashed.
Air pressure buffeted in every direction as Muzazi's Almighty and Hadrien's Railgun struggled against each other, their aurora of white and blue wrestling for Supremacy. Muzazi opened his mouth, allowing a scream of exertion to rise from his bleeding throat. Hadrien echoed him, shining eyes bulging as he continued to fire against the incoming attack.
“The moment that arm became a hindrance, you should have gotten rid of it.”
You're exactly right, Dragan Hadrien. It's as you said. I didn't come here with enough resolve. I needed to be prepared to throw everything away.
But… I'm a fast learner.
He pushed harder, shone brighter… and felt the sting of the Aether burn scorch into his body. Gemini Railgun was scattered like so many autumn leaves -- and Dragan Hadrien was engulfed.
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“Serena del Sed, hm?” Niain spoke emotionlessly, looking at her with dull eyes. “There's a surprise. I thought all of Pierrot's rejects had gone and joined up with Erica del Sed.”
Serena furrowed her brow, and Bruno spoke through her mouth. “What did you say?”
“Oh, you haven't heard?” Niain said, a strange note of bitterness entering his voice. “The Sed’s first graduate is gathering the rest of the failures for a grand endeavour. Honestly. I mean, this is what I'm talking about. You don't know anything, you don't understand anything, and yet somehow you're so much worthier? What a joke.”
“What are you talking about?” Serena asked.
Ruth hung above, impaled, unable to do anything but watch. She wanted to jump down. She wanted to fight. More than anything, though, she wanted to say…
Run. Get out of here. You can't beat him. I can't beat him, either. I thought I was strong now, but I'm not. It doesn't matter how hard I can hit. I'm still the same person. I'm still the same failure.
I failed Ellis, I failed Alice, I failed Rex, I failed Skipper… and now I'm failing you, too. Because you have to try and save me. You shouldn't. There's no need. I don't deserve it.
I… I abandoned you. I came here without even thinking about you, because I wanted revenge. I was only thinking about myself… again, again.
She blinked, and her eyes were wet.
So… why did you come here?
She swallowed, and her throat burned.
Why… are you helping me?
She breathed, and her lips spread into an involuntary, tear-tasting smile.
Why are you still my friends?
Finally… success.
Ruth pulled herself off the spike and dropped down to the ground on one knee, plates from the Direwolf Set already manifesting to cover her wound and stop the bleeding. Red Aether coursed around her body. She looked up, her hair shining orange -- and grinned.
Serena's eyes flicked from Niain to Ruth, and a little half-smile curled her own lips. Despite the situation, despite the odds, despite the enemy… it was good to be together again. Still smiling, she took a step back, invisible sword at the ready.
Still expressionless, Niain just stood there for a moment. He closed his eyes. He sighed. He turned on his heel…
…and he began to walk away.
Ruth rose to her feet. “Huh?”
Niain said nothing as he just continued to stroll towards the forest of blades he'd created -- behind which Toll and the other soldiers were surely waiting.
“Hey!” Ruth called after him. “Where the hell do you think you're going?!”
Niain glanced over his shoulder, his black eyes like twin pits. “I was hoping to cause trouble until the Shepherdess had no choice but to come out,” he muttered, morose. “But seeing your friend there spoiled my mood. I don't feel like it anymore, so I'm leaving.”
Ruth blinked. “What?”
“Bye,” Niain said casually, turning back towards the blades… only, he paused for a moment. “Now that I think about it… I bet you're both hoping to speak with Dragan Hadrien here, aren't you?”
He glanced back at them, putting his knuckles to his lips. Ruth realized with a start they were the knuckles of his right hand -- the one that Serena had cut off. When had it come back? She hadn't even noticed. Was this guy like Dragan?
“If you are hoping to speak to Dragan Hadrien,” Niain giggled. “I'd hurry. Otherwise… you might lose your chance to say goodbye.”
For a moment, as Niain began weaving his way through the network of blades, Ruth still thought about going after him.
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But Bruno grabbed her arm.
“Let's go,” he said, urgently.
…
“Right,” Ruth replied -- and turned away from that dark star.
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Dragan Hadrien's heart was gone.
That much even Atoy Muzazi could tell. If he'd had a heart in his chest, or a brain in his skull, he'd have died the moment that full-power Radiant Almighty had struck him head on. The fact that he was still moving meant that he'd banished them into his Aether without a doubt.
All that remained of Dragan Hadrien’s body were his head, his upper chest, and his left arm -- all having suffered severe damage. Skin charred, eyes melted, jaw distended… it was like something out of a nightmare. All the rest of him had been incinerated, reduced to a cloud of soot that now hung around his twitching form.
Yes, he was indeed still moving… but Muzazi intended to fix that.
He shot forward, seizing hold of Hadrien by the neck and dragging him along as he made his way out of the ruins of the building. One eye coalesced into solidity inside Dragan’s socket, dilating as he saw his situation. He knew this was it. When he’d been struck with a weaker form of Radiant Almighty, he’d had to keep Muzazi at range while he recovered. Now, after being devastated by its full might, he was already in the Full Moon’s grip.
And I’m not done!
The collapse of the building had certainly done damage, levels falling on top of each other, wrecking machinery… splitting pipes. Up ahead, through the newborn tunnel Muzazi was using to exit the building, was one of those pipes. It had been wrenched open by pressure -- and was belching water up into the air.
It’s not nearly enough, but…
The two of them passed through the shower.
…Overdrive!
Their two forms became a single blur -- and shot straight out of the building and up into the sky, splitting the clouds as they went. Their sheer speed was such that Dragan’s right arm, which had just begun to regenerate, was stripped away by the friction and sent flying off into the night. Wind buffeting against the remains of his hair, Hadrien opened his mouth and screamed, the words slurred by melted lips:
“Mushashiii!”
I have nothing left to say to you.
Countless blue stars twinkled in the air around them -- and a second later, a rain of Gemini Railguns surged inwards towards Muzazi. He spun around, dodging them, even using Hadrien himself as a shield to ward off a few, but it wasn’t easy. The only arm that was even remotely usable was the one holding Hadrien’s neck. When he’d Aether burned earlier, he’d diverted the damage to his broken arm -- it was now little more than a rough lump of splintered bone and crystal blood.
Even so, he swung it like a club, deflecting a Railgun aimed at his head. He’d use anything he had.
As Hadrien’s lips reintegrated, he spat: “Did you tell the Heir what you did to her father? Or were you waiting for her birthday?!”
Muzazi smiled.
An attack of words, Hadrien? That shows me you’re getting desperate…
Skin rippled, and a second later Hadrien’s face exploded -- a dozen tiny Railguns being launched straight out of his head, exposing his skull. This time, though, Muzazi was ready. He simply jerked his head to the side, letting the blue streaks of light shine off into the sky.
…and you repeating your tricks confirms it. But there’s no point. You can’t beat me anymore. Because… I can see it!
Clear as day, shining even in this tempest, stretching out before him. The golden path that Nigen Rush had once spoken of. The road that would lead you to victory every time, as long as you walked it, as long as you saw it. Not with your eyes, but with the sense that only a warrior had.
It was the thinnest ribbon… but not thin enough that Muzazi couldn’t seize hold of it.
Muzazi and Dragan spun, over and over, as if they were dancing a crazed waltz in the middle of the night’s clouds. For a moment, it looked like Muzazi’s grip on Dragan’s neck was loosening -- but, no, he adjusted it, slipping behind Dragan instead and wrapping his arm around his throat in a headlock. All around them, a painted galaxy of stars spread out -- countless Railguns, aimed inwards, ready to fire upon Muzazi and Dragan both. It seemed Hadrien didn’t care how much he damaged his own body as long as he got Muzazi to let go. He snarled and snapped at empty air, keen in animal focus, lining up his shots as best he could…
But no.
Radiant Ablaze.
Blades of light erupted from Muzazi’s body like the quills of a hedgehog, impaling Hadrien in half-a-dozen places. A bloodcurdling scream echoed through the sky as even Hadrien’s remaining arm was severed, dropping far… far… below… to the Arena of the Absolute that was now a tiny dot beneath them.
Muzazi had returned them to where they’d started… and now it was time to drop.
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A hand around his throat.
Pain.
Helplessness.
A hand around his throat.
A HAND AROUND HIS THROAT!
“If only you’d never existed.”
“If only you’d never existed.”
“If only you’d never existed.”
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Dragan screamed. “STOP IT!”
Atoy Muzazi did not stop it.
He whirled them around one last time -- so they were both facing down towards the Arena -- and began his victory. With a crack of white Aether, a thruster emerged from Muzazi’s back so huge it dwarfed both him and Hadrien. With a rumble of white Aether, it shot them forth with such speed that their skin began to flake away. With a roar of white Aether, it blasted the two of them down towards the distant Arena.
The Full Moon and the Shooting Star, carving a white line across the sky.
----------------------------------------
Dragan fell…
I wanted to beat you.
In the end, I suppose that’s what I wanted most. Maybe not even to beat you… but to prove that I could. To prove it to myself? To prove it to Skipper? I dunno. I needed to prove to someone that I wasn’t the same person as I was on Caelus Breck. That I wasn’t a leaf being blown around in the wind anymore. I wanted to prove that I was the hurricane now.
I wanted to prove I was strong.
Ha. I thought I didn’t buy into that bullshit. Shows what I know.
I couldn’t beat you. I never stood a chance, and I know why. It’s because you’re strong, isn’t it, Muzazi? You’re strong, and I’m not. That’s why you can keep going like that, even without being able to heal yourself. That’s why you’re about to win like this. That’s why you’re still swinging that sword, and I’m just a few scraps of meat.
Everything I’m doing… everything I’ve done… I’m still just trying to keep up with you, aren’t I?
Even so, that’s fine.
Ah…
But I wanted to beat you so bad.
…and Dragan landed.
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The devastation that Dragan Hadrien had created for the Arena at the start of the match barely compared to the impact he made on it at the end.
As the Muzazi-Hadrien rocket struck the arena, a great plume of rubble spiked up into the sky, nearly twice as tall as the building itself. Shockwaves rang out, shattering glass for miles around, sending automatic drones spiraling out of the sky. Only the reinforced Emerald Eyes were able to stay airborne, and even they bobbed around crazily.
The sheer force of the impact was enough to knock the Arena’s repulsor engines out of commission -- just for a second. Tragedy was averted for the audience, who had retreated into the evacuation stations, but as the engines reactivated thousands of seats were sent flying up into the air from the stands. They rained back down, their clattering a modest substitute for the absent applause, as the smoke cleared.
A massive crater had been formed by the atmospheric chokeslam, and the two of them now remained at the bottom of it.
No doubt that Dragan Hadrien had shattered every bone he had the moment he struck the Arena. His limbs were gone, his skinless ribs a mass of pulp, his skull sketched over with fracture lines. So much blood was pouring from his mouth that his lips and chin were no longer visible. One blue eye stared upwards, pupil quivering.
And Atoy Muzazi stood over him. He pointed a thin white Radiant at Hadrien’s neck.
“It’s… over… Hadrien…” he wheezed.
Dragan tried to say something in response, but whatever words he might have managed were lost beneath the gurgling of his blood.
“I know,” Muzazi muttered, exhausted. “Your brain and your heart… probably most of your other organs… they’re recorded inside your Aether, aren’t they? The only reason the rest of you is still here is because my infusion interferes with your exterior. But…”
Six pillars exploded into life around the rim of the crater, creating an incandescent halo behind Muzazi’s head.
“...if those organs have no body to return to, it’s all the same, isn’t it?!”
The six lights flowed as one into Muzazi’s Radiant, building upon it, reinforcing and empowering it until it was like a holy blade -- an augur of light that would incinerate whatever it struck. Dragan’s eye widened as the shining sword was reflected off of the pupil. He knew just as well that this time there was no escape.
Point blank, with his body already this damaged… it would destroy him down to the atom.
“Radiant…!”
Muzazi raised his weapon up high…
Blue Aether flashed.
…and Dragan raised his.
Muzazi stopped.
The flash of Aether hadn’t been an attack. It had been Dragan retrieving something from his recording, partially manifesting it so he could hold it up without hands. He continued to stare up at Muzazi, eye wide, his pupil a gleaming blue pinprick. A vaporous breath poured from his open mouth as, slowly, his tongue and lips began to return.
What he was holding before him was the screen of a script, bordered by fizzling blue Aether. At the sight of that screen, Atoy Muzazi’s attack had immediately stopped. The pillars of Radiant Almighty continued to roar around them, but their specks of light froze mid-drift, unused. Muzazi’s arms trembled, even as they held the weapon that would finish Dragan Hadrien with a single swing.
On the screen… on the screen… on the screen that Dragan Hadrien held…was an image.
The image of the man called North -- holding a gun to the temple of the girl called Aclima. Wherever it was taken, it was dark. The girl unconscious, the man’s eyes hardened and merciless. A timestamp in the corner showed that the image was from around thirty minutes ago.
Dragan Hadrien’s words returned to him… or, in this case, just one word.
“Surrender,” Dragan said.
This is a trick. This is a trap. Even if… even if it’s a real picture, reports of Hadrien’s subordinate say he can weave illusions. There’s no guarantee that’s Aclima. It could be anybody. It could be nobody.
“Please,” Muzazi whispered.
“Surrender,” Dragan said.
That girl is already my enemy. If I were to become Supreme… when I become Supreme, she will go after me. I’d have to fight her anyway. I’d have to kill her anyway. It’s all the same result.
“Don’t,” Muzazi whispered.
“Surrender,” Dragan said.
Didn’t you already decide, Atoy Muzazi?! I thought we’d done this! I thought you’d already resolved yourself to throw everything away! Your honour, your dignity, your self-respect as a warrior! You already threw her away, didn’t you?! You already made this choice! So what right have you to double back and try and pick her up again, Atoy Muzazi?!
…
You promised Marie, didn’t you…?
Wind whistled. Air trembled. Time froze.
And, before an audience of staring green eyes, Atoy Muzazi spoke.
“I surrender,” he said.
The light went out.