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Machine of War

He drifted closer to the ground like a cherry blossom in the wind, yet he never touched it. He’d stretch out a hand to Sonata.

“Give it.” He waited.

“Brother…?” She looked into his unwavering eyes, blinks a rare sight.

“Sonata… give… it…” He’d move loser, reaching for her.

“No?” She backed away.

“We don’t have time for this. This has already been discussed. I need to kill that thing, so hurry before it returns.” His hand would sag.

“Who am I talking to…?” Her hair would fall, her skin repairing itself, as within her right hand a golden sphere emerged.

She’d hold on to it, hold it close to her person.

“I am Fate, and I am August, that was the agreement. So, yes Sonata… to some degree, it is till me.” His left eye would turn crimson for a blink.

“How are you going to kill that thing without destabilizing the collective human unconscious…?” She’d hand it over, even if she froze halfway through.

“I made no such promise. What needs to be done, will be done. Regardless of consequences.” He’d absorb the last fragment of Fate’s power in that sphere.

The entire place shook as Fate’s parts caught sight of each other, Sonata stumbling in the sand she found herself standing in.

“You retain power… naturally, but don’t overdo it.” He’d look at her, seeing the light still in her mind.

“And what about you…?” She couldn’t bear to look at the abomination.

“Keep going into the desert, I’ll open a fracture for you when the time is right. Goodbye Sonata.” He’d turn his back to them.

“Au—” Her words cut short.

The embodiment of madness would appear out of space itself, slamming against an invisible shield the machine must have conjured. Thus, Sonata was forced to hold her words, and her tears, running in the opposite direction, carrying May and, no, just May.

Bob was back to working order, though he did not smile or look up. He stood next to August. Sonata almost turned back, but it wasn’t hard to discern his intentions, seeing as she had already witnessed such a future.

She’d clench her teeth and continue her stride.

“What are you doing… go back for him?!” May’s opposition.

“I won’t stop him from deciding his own future.” Sonata dreaded the eyes that still showed her the consequences of her actions, her tears, blood.

“He’ll die?!” May attempted to escape her grasp, but it was an impossible feat still.

“That’s the point…” Sonata could barely muster the words. “Where’s your concern for your brother…?”

“That thing… this time I’m sure… that thing is not my brother… he died… in my arms…” She squeezed the necklace, and its cold steel reminded her of her brother, even more than the image she looked back at.

“Was he happy… at the end…?” Perhaps the woman sought answers for herself.

“I don’t know, but he cried… real tears… so maybe he was…” May took her eyes off the imitation.

Bob would thrust his hands forward, bending gravity to his will to oppose the monster, pushing it back, blood spilling from his face like a waterfall.

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“You will die.” The remnant of August looked at his old friend.

“N-no need for pretense, y-you must have buried w-what little of him remains… I-I don’t need a stranger’s sympathy… just give me power.” Bob would reach out a hand to the thing.

“As you wish.” He’d reciprocate the gesture, holding his hand.

Bob would catch flames, white fire, as their hands met, his whole being consumed by the burn. All his belongings, past attachments, his love, hate, all of it would burn to fuel his rampage.

He looked at himself, and it was warm, he was finally at peace, and even looking at the monster before him, all he felt, was pity.

“What do I do…?” He could see it, the truth of the broken universe, and he could bend it, even more than gravity.

“Trap us here.” The machine would fly towards the monster.

August would grab the thing and toss it into the air, and turning to the two that sought escape, he pointed out a hand, enclosing them in a translucent cube. He’d have already opened the rift, but he couldn’t risk any escapees following them.

So, everything in place, he’d set the stage. The domain of death, the river, he’d look at it, focus on its very nature, and so it began to bubble. Then, it erupted like a volcano, tossing the black waters to the sky.

The place would flood, the sky matching the space outside, the fickle walls shattering, death freed in the Abstract. The waters wouldn’t stop, raging like the sea, covering anything and everything mere moments after release, relentless, indiscriminate.

As for the god of madness that sought escape, Bob would finally act. The water flowed around him as if he was a rock, or perhaps, it knew he was already on the other side.

He raised his hands, and the sky would darken, a point above them, darkness manifesting like a ball, deep and dense. He’d then slowly move his hands apart the thing spreading across the sky, warping space around it.

It was like a ceaseless mass, seeking to eat everything, pulling anything near into its empty depths. Its edges shone like the flames of a sun, its presence bending reality itself. It was the greatest feat he could muster, one act to trump them all. His last stand, a black hole.

Thus, the monster was trapped, being pulled into the depths of the behemoth, but there were more. As the thing spread, the pitch black tenants trapped in the ground were dragged out and tossed to the void. Those that flew, and those that ran, none the better.

Everything enveloped in its entropy, its very nature impossibly built on Fate’s power, targeting all Ideas, everything in the entire Abstract. He’d see his work done, his idea successful, and so, looking at his feeble form burning away, he broke apart and faded off into specs of light, a smile on his face.

As for what was left of August, he was satisfied, but not enough. He looked up into the void, and immediately, it consumed the whole sky, spanning the entire space. He’d erase all of it, leave a blank canvas.

He no longer had any need to fight the thing, they were both trapped by the gravity of their impending doom, and so he only watched it. It tried to fly away, but it couldn’t, and so, it settled on revenge.

A rocky spire had been falling up between them, and so the thing took the time to throw it at August. It would stop moments before him, but breaking through it was a maddened god, deprived of his ambitions.

Its mouth frothed as it lunged for him, but with a simple jab, the machine broke the thing’s face and the rock formation behind it.

It would float off, looking up into its doom, and so, if it was all for naught anyway, perhaps a spec of it could survive, even if it had no power.

Its mind, it broke its own mind, and so it tried to fight the void’s gravity, bending reality itself, but all it did was bloat under the weight of the task. The bodies composing it nowhere near strong enough to oppose Bob’s feat.

Its consequences came due nonetheless, its faux body exploding in a bloody and fleshy rain, its true form revealed. It was much the same, only smoother, unharmed, human sized.

It would not relent, flying after the machine, but he’d just go higher, closer to the void, avoiding it and taunting it all in one go. Yet, somewhere in that cold mechanical machination, he must have felt bad for it.

Its eyes bled, tears only human, its desperation useless, its power useless. It wailed, screamed as it tried to run away, but it was useless.

The machine would humor it, flying down towards it, demonstrating the fact that only one of them was truly trapped. The monster did not like such a thing, tossing anything its power could reach at August.

It did not matter if it was alive or inanimate. Yet, the machine treated it all the same, ripping all of it apart so it could flow around him, without even moving.

He’d then attack it himself, a kick to the face so fast it could not react, sending it tumbling into rising rock formations. The monster would toss fragments of the broken rock, so many it almost blotted out the sky, but it was useless, or was it.

Hiding behind one of the many boulders it tossed in retaliation, was itself. It was a shame that upon getting close enough to touch the object of its hatred, it was frozen stiff.

“You have already lost… nothing you do now will matter. Why do you still fight? To delude yourself into believing your ideals were achievable?” August allowed the thing to get closer, to speak.

“I’ll kill you…!” Its eyes rife with hate and its mouth overflowing with saliva, that’s how it would look in its last moments.