Why does the lion kill the gazelle?
Does it kill the gazelle because it hates it? No.
Does it kill the gazelle because it hates gazelles? No.
Does it kill the gazelle for its pride? No.
Does it kill the gazelle out of pity? No.
Does it kill the gazelle out of jealousy? No.
Does it kill the gazelle? No.
It eats the gazelle.
For it does not wish to starve.
For it does not wish to die.
Humilist Fable
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Zeroth was beginning to understand it.
The person he was fighting was in fact a duo. One person in that duo had the ability to create invisible shields, while the other had the power to turn whatever they touched into a sword. By acting in tandem and transforming those shields into swords, they were able to create invisible blades thin and sharp enough to slice through even Aether.
Truly formidable.
The duo slashed and danced at Zeroth, their blades moving through the air with such speed that Zeroth could only barely dodge. Cuts bled from many different points on his body already, and although he could will them shut he could not stop the enemy from creating more. He couldn't take them lightly at all: there was no way for him to discern the length of a particular blade, so if he was careless he would quickly end up beheaded.
He had to end this.
Zeroth accepted a deep gouge through his right arm as he jumped backwards, flipping in the air. With his enemies injuries, they wouldn't be able to pursue him aerially. He had to think of his counterattack before he landed.
There was always a pause between slashes -- he'd noticed that. The enemy had two hands, and would always attack in a 'left, right' sequence, never using the same hand twice.
Why?
The answer was simple. When a sword was used, it was immediately destroyed. The enemies needed that pause to create a new weapon, and so the second attack also served as a means of covering that opening.
How could he take advantage of it?
He could use one of his heat blasts when they were making the second attack, catching them off-guard and perhaps producing a greater opening, but there was no guarantee of victory in that. Zeroth disliked gambling. He desired an attack that would guarantee a return on his investment. Besides, they already knew about the heat blasts. He'd have to catch them by surprise.
How could he do that?
He hadn't yet pushed his heat production to its limits. Focusing the heat waves had produced the heat blasts, so what if he sharpened that technique further? With the distance this maneuver would create, he had nothing to lose.
Zeroth landed.
Immediately, he thrust his palm forward -- and heat erupted from it, blasting towards the incoming enemies. They dodged to the side, avoiding the worst of the attack, but Zeroth was not yet done.
Aether coiled around his palm like the barrel of a gun, focusing and honing the outpour of heat more and more and more…
…until it became a beam of burning orange light, shining through the room and incinerating the far wall. Flames spilled down from the burning metal and glass.
It was ferocious in Zeroth's hand, difficult to control, but he quickly tamed it and slashed horizontally towards his enemy's new position. To his great surprise, however, they avoided the attack -- by heading upwards.
He'd been certain they no longer had the strength to jump. Had he been mistaken? No.
As Zeroth followed the figure through the air with his eyes, he immediately realized what they had done. Those invisible shields were more useful than he'd anticipated -- the enemy was using them like the steps of a staircase in order to run on thin air. With them, even no surface at all could be the same as solid ground.
Astounding. Such tenacity! Such will to survive!
Zeroth felt the urge to reciprocate. As the enemy circled him, he turned away, lifting his back towards the air and bracing himself. At his command, more beams of fire erupted from each of the wounds he'd suffered this far, half-a-dozen heat lances shredding the room as he moved.
Had that got them?! Zeroth ceased the beams and whirled around -- and the second he did, an invisible blade brushed past his face. A cut slowly opened on his cheek. If he hadn't chosen that moment to move, it would have gone right through his head.
Frightening. A hollow pit opened in Zeroth's heart. Was this what death felt like…?
The enemy had thrown the invisible sword from their new position in the air. Zeroth hadn't anticipated that -- but it seemed he still had the advantage all the same. The enemy's clothing was on fire, their face contorted with pain, and yet the sparking of their Aether showed they were not yet done.
They were fighting to their last. It felt only right for Zeroth to give them the same courtesy.
All-Child.
Heart, beat to your utmost, he commanded his body. Brain, grant me adrenaline. Begone, pain: I have no need for you now. Muscles, break and regenerate. Stronger! Faster! MORE!
Angry red veins beneath his skin became visible as his body went into overdrive, his eyes bulging out of their sockets. He grinned, a mixture of saliva and blood running down his chapped lips. A sense of pressure built up right between his shoulder blades, like he was a volcano, until --
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-- it erupted. Two flaps of skin burst off his back, blood and smoke rising from the wounds like the thrusters of a rocket. The tattered skin fluttered behind like wings. This was the limit of human biology.
Blood Eagle.
His eyes were focused on the figure in the sky before him as he tensed, getting ready to jump.
"Composite!" he roared, his mighty voice shaking the room. "Show me what you've got! Here I come!"
He kicked off the ground.
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Zeroth smashed Bruno and Serena out of the air with a slap of his hand, like he was spiking a matchball -- but against his expectations, they were not reduced to gore.
Sixteen force fields, layered together so densely they were like one single object, sharpened by Serena's ability so that touching them sliced Zeroth's hand to pieces. If the damage to his body bothered him, though, it didn't show. He simply laughed in exhilaration as his hand fell apart, fingers flying in every direction.
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This was something to behold. Zeroth had never experienced this kind of rush before. Was this true combat, then? A struggle for one's life against one with the ability to kill them?
He laughed heartily, even as his fist collapsed into meat and bone. He'd produced plentiful dopamine to counter any of the stress and anxiety one would normally feel in battle. His sense of pain had already been disabled, but now injury truly meant nothing to him.
Still… even as he fired heat out of his back, propelling himself in pursuit of his opponents, he couldn't help but wonder what the point of this engagement was.
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Bruno and Serena landed roughly on the ground -- and a second later, Zeroth landed next to them, his leg already reared back for a devastating kick.
They acted fast. Bruno produced a shield next to their body and immediately destroyed it, the small shockwave propelling them out of the way of Zeroth's kick. The giant's foot instead came into contact with the stone beneath, prying it out of the ground and sending it flying towards the far wall -- which was thoroughly shattered by the impact.
Serena leapt to their feet, reaching out and grasping the force fields she knew would be waiting for her. They hardened into two invisible scimitars -- and she used the other shields available to run in the air around and behind Zeroth, slashing at the back of his neck.
He swung around to avoid the blow, but not quite fast enough. One ear went flying off from a glancing slash. As blood began to pour from the open wound, however, so too did a beam of heat erupt from it, angled right at Serena's face.
Bruno destroyed the forcefield they were standing on, sending them back down to the ground. The beam brushed past the top of Serena's head, singing their hair.
She reached out again. Another sword met her grip.
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Why was it that people fought against each other? Zeroth considered the question as he dodged and pummeled, sending his enemies flying across the room.
Was it for sport? He imagined there were some people who simply lived to fight, for the thrill of combat -- and yet that could not be a majority of the population. Why, then, did humanity fight in general?
He ducked under another sword swing.
Why was he fighting this enemy right now? Gertrude Hearth had instructed him to, but it was by his own will that he punched and kicked. He had utter free will, and yet he chose to fight all the same. What would he get if he won this battle?
It would not profit him, save for…
Ah. Of course. He understood humanity now. Such a simple thing, when you got down to it. Humans fought for the sake of preserving their own lives.
Zeroth was fighting because he did not want to be killed by these enemies. These enemies were fighting because they did not want to be killed by Zeroth. Because communication had not been established, there was no recourse save mutual self-defense.
How illogical. To be perfectly honest, Zeroth was a little embarrassed that he'd been behaving in such a barbaric fashion. Self-improvement was all well and good, but he'd been using his fists as though they were a child's toys.
Zeroth halted his pursuit, grinding his heels against the ground.
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Serena leapt to her feet again.
That last strike from her enemy had broken their right arm, but their left was still good to go. She held an invisible dagger in front of herself, warding off any incoming attacks… but it seemed she needn't have bothered.
Zeroth was just standing there, after all, one hand thoughtfully stroking his chin.
"What?" Bruno growled from their throat. "Coming up with another ability? It won't save you!"
Zeroth raised an absent eyebrow. "Is that what it looks like to you?" His voice had changed completely since the start of the fight. It had gone from the halting, slurred words of a brute to the measured, confident speech of a worldwise philosopher.
"Then what…?" Bruno growled, squeezing the dagger in their grip.
"I'm considering the best exit from this place. I'm done fighting now, you see. There's no more purpose to it."
Serena blinked. "Huh?"
"If we continue fighting, it will likely end with one of us dying. I don't see any greater purpose that would be served with that conclusion. We have no personal enmity towards each other -- as far as I'm aware -- so we wouldn't even receive the satisfaction of destroying a hated enemy. Hence, I decide to leave. It's a better use of my time and yours. Would you like to accompany me, or would you prefer to stay here?"
Bruno went to say something, and Serena went to join him, but biology answered for them instead. The second the thought of ending the fight crossed their minds, the exhaustion that had been chasing them finally caught up.
Without a single word, they collapsed forward, landing on their face. Zeroth watched them, a strange smile on his own lips.
After a few seconds, though, he turned away and began strolling towards the exit, hands casually clasped behind his back.
"Be proud, composite warriors," he said quietly. "Had the fight continued, I have no doubt you would have taken my head. Such was your tenacity."
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Olga was being pursued by a nightmare.
The man called Dragan had transformed utterly as he'd pursued her. All that remained of his original form was his right arm, part of his torso and the front of his eyeless face -- and those parts were connected only by sparking blue Aether. That phantom arm had grabbed onto her leg, and with a mighty heave --
-- he threw her down on the ground.
There was only a slight distance between them and their Forgiveness Corps pursuers, and so Dragan wasted no time. Before Olga could pick herself up, Dragan wrapped his hand around her throat, pressing that piece of Neverwire against Patriotta to neutralize it's Aether.
"Muzazi. Where?" he snarled in her face, his voice slurred and difficult to understand. His enemy had deafened him. "Don't say it. Point. Or I kill you."
He was telling the truth. Even without being able to see his eyes, Olga knew that for a fact. The cold, firm hand around her throat told the whole story.
Trembling, she pointed at the door before them. She'd just about reached it before being pulled out of the air.
She felt another buzz across her body as Dragan sent out another Aether ping -- and only then did he look up at the door. He was blind as well, after all. He hadn't even realized the door was there before she'd pointed it out.
Stupid girl, she told herself. Stupid, stupid. Jean trained you better than that.
Dragan went to move towards the door -- but before it could, it opened on its own, the doors sliding to allow them access. He hesitated.
"Is he in there?" he growled. "Nod or shake your head."
Slowly, Olga shook her head.
In that room was nothing but darkness…
…darkness, and a chair that someone had clearly ripped their way out of.