Chapter 113: Strength is Absolute

Jyn’s heart was pounding, and she held her sword in a shaking death grip. Kalender’s voice was hoarse from screaming at the top of his lungs. The formerly wide street was now claustrophobic with rubble and bodies strewn overnight, but at least there were only a few directions from which the charmed would attack.

She was envious of Lilia’s relaxed grip beside her. The thing with Leadership was the leader never benefited from it. It had always been up to her to give herself a sense of direction.

The charmed weren’t their only enemies. A Flare from Page sailed over their heads, marking out a Sharpshooter in a far building’s second-floor window. Kalender pointed at it, chanted, and blew it up with an explosive spell. They might be able to keep this up for another half an hour.

Were they having any impact on the battle? They might just be throwing away their lives for nothing. Jyn could tell herself over and over that she’d accept it if they’d all died, but she would never be convinced.

War takes, and it takes, and it takes. She’d been so happy that she’d nearly forgotten that lesson.

The building beside them exploded, and through the debris, a blur came rocketing. Her body moved before her mind could process it, and the edge of her sword met something hard. When the signals from her eyes finally entered her brain, fear, awe, and desperation conquered her all at once.

She parried a smoking iron hand. In that moment, she looked into a man’s bloodshot eyes. His grin was wet with drool, and his cheeks, stained by blood.

The enemy had found them — and the enemy would kill them all.

The force of simply parrying the attack sent her sailing through the air; how could she have hoped to match up to sheer power? She tumbled and rolled across the ground, hitting a wall and hitting her head in the backlash, stunning her.

“Jyn!” she heard Page’s and Kalender’s overlapping voices. When she looked up, the enemy was already upon Lilia; the hero’s reincarnation fared only a little better. She launched the first strike, knowing defense meant nothing.

The enemy stood still, and he even spared a smirk. With one hand behind him, he swatted away two strikes and flicked Lilia’s sword on the third, cracking it in half. We’re all going to die.

Lilia took distance. Kalender aimed and fired his rifle. Page shot off a rare Fireball. The enemy deflected them all, but through the smoke left behind, Lilia charged with a dagger.

Jyn wanted to be proud of how far they’d come as a team, but death comes quickly. This was as far as they would go.

The man side-stepped the attack and sent a punch through Lilia’s gut — through her gut. No one even had the time to be shocked when he pulled his arm out and began to approach Kalender.

Panic took over. Jyn pushed herself up, yet her body was disobedient and unstable. Adrenaline may have helped to block out the pain, but it wouldn’t keep her bones together long enough to even stand.

Step by step, the enemy got closer. Kalender shot him plenty of times, shouting curses and crying tears. Page did much the same with her bullet spells, but when she ran out, she dropped to her knees and wailed. She’d zeroed out her MP.

The enemy just laughed. He relished in the sound of someone else’s suffering.

Despicable. Jyn stabbed her sword into the ground and hoisted herself up. Her limbs trembled from fear and anger mixing. No! — her mind screamed — you will not touch them!

Yet, in the time it took her to stand, the enemy had already poised his arm for a punch. You will not! — Jyn wanted to cry. His hand shot forward.

Another blur rocketed in, and what should have been a spray of blood became a spray of blood and steel sparks. The pressure of the resulting wind gale sent Jyn stumbling backwards against the wall she’d started from.

The same gale cleared out all the dust, letting her see clearly. Page and Kalender had been knocked to the ground, and standing in their place was a woman in tattered armor.

Arpeggio! Jyn gasped; she almost smiled. She started limping towards her. She had to support the Princess Knight against this enemy, no matter how little power she could actually bring to this fight. A distraction — she chuckled — I’m just good enough for a distraction.

But when the enemy grinned, she dragged her feet, and eventually, she stopped moving at all. What she’d seen was the face of a man who’d already won it all.

“White Queen to D4.” He chuckled. “Was it worth it” — he grabbed Arpeggio’s wrist and raised it — “sacrificing yourself?”

Only then did Jyn notice Arpeggio’s broken sword, broken gauntlets, her bloodied face, and the blood that trickled between the cracks in her armor.

Jyn had admired her. She was strong and regal, yet somehow, retained a sense of self besides her royal self, but now they were just the same: just ladies who could only stand. Their limbs were inoperative, and they were vengeful, afraid…helpless.

The enemy reeled Arpeggio in by the wrist, and his face got closer to her.

Jyn started to limp again. She ignored the burning of her organs. Why did she have to suffer such a fate of watching every piece of her world be lost one by one? Fragments of bone lacerated her insides, but what did that matter? She limped faster, using her sword like a crutch just to get to her.

“You shitty Princess Knight!” she screamed. “How could you lose like that!”

Hers was the scream with barely a voice. Her throat burned; her eyes burned, and she couldn’t tell the difference between tears and sweat.

They’d lost the battle from the very start.

“Become mine,” the enemy said with a smile. He was a man who didn’t hesitate, and he closed the remaining inches while cutting away Arpeggio’s cuffs.

Jyn fell to the ground just as the cuffs did. She tried to hoist herself up again, but when she looked up — What was the point anymore? Arpeggio was just standing there, as still as a puppet, awaiting orders.

“My dear, my dear!” The enemy had an excited voice like an aunt welcoming her niece after the longest time. Arpeggio made no resistance as she was held so familiarly. Jyn made no sound as she buried her head in the ground.

She was a useless Knight. She was a useless friend. The chasm between her and Arpeggio might have been great, but she had hoped for that chasm to shrink somewhat, yet just now, all those possible futures had been destroyed — and the enemy laughed about it.

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He covered his mouth and closed his eyes as if he’d seen the peak of comedy. That face he made — Jyn wanted to take “its” teeth and gouge out “its” eyes.

“It” wasn’t a man. “It” was below the dignity of one.

But what could she do?

An explosion from beneath the enemy’s feet broke her trance. The flames and dust cleared, and the enemy caught within shook his hand as if it had been lightly slapped. He glared at another man on the ground.

Kalender. Jyn panicked. Not again! She couldn’t watch this! She’d rather die with him than watch this! When she couldn’t hoist herself up, she resorted to dragging herself along the ground.

“You,” the enemy said. Venom dripped from his teeth with that lone word. He could easily kill Kalender with the flick of a finger, but…he had a better idea.

He stood aside and bowed, flourishing his hand, making way for the executioner. “My princess. If you would.”

No! Jyn was still so far away. What is this? She dragged herself along the ground by the inch. This sick comedy. Arpeggio measured her approach by the foot. Why do it this way? She could see Kalender’s resignation in how he lowered his hand. Watching his own friend approach him, out for his blood with relish on her face — he must not even believe what was happening in front of him.

Reality had long slipped away, both for him and for Jyn.

Arpeggio picked up the dagger beside Lilia’s body. Kalender scrambled backwards, but she ran and threw herself on him, straddling him, and raised the knife to the sky in a hammer grip.

“Arpie!” Kalender half-shouted and half-cried. A shower of orange and purple sparks flew between them. Change back! — Jyn and Kalender both hoped, but the sparks cleared, and she still had a knifey-wifey’s craze in her eye.

“Wait,” the enemy said. He walked up beside Kalender with a tilted head, showing no further expression. “You know, I’ve been curious about something.”

Kalender spat, though his spit didn’t even reach him. “Monster.”

The enemy chuckled. “Why are you so…obedient? You have such a powerful gift, yet you don’t use it. You could have everything!” He threw his arms out and spun around — and faced him, pocketed his hands, and frowned. “What. Were you. Thinking?”

The two stared at each other.

“Not going to answer?” He chuckled. He walked around Kalender and pulled up a head of hair — Page! The girl was still crying, unaware and uncaring of what went on around her.

Jyn crawled on. Kalender tried to sit up, but Arpeggio forced him down.

“Answer me,” the enemy said.

“… took it all.”

The enemy chuckled. “What?”

“I had everything, but you took it all!”

It pained Jyn to know they felt same thing. She crawled closer. She was so close now. If only they could go together —

Manager groaned and let go of Page’s hair. He briskly walked to Jyn and kicked her away by the stomach, sending her rolling away again. Kalender winced, but Manager laughed without abandon.

“That’s it? That’s it?!” he snapped at Kalender. He briskly walked back to him and crouched down, pulling his head back by the hair. “You’re a small man.”

Jyn’s rolling came to a stop. She tried to get up, but her strength was completely gone. What bones had been broken long ago had been cracked in even more places now. Why can’t they just let her die with him?

She managed one last burst of strength, turning herself over to resume an even harder crawl. The grit of sand and gravel against her elbows opened her wounds there.

Arpeggio’s eyes turned crescent, spurring Jyn to crawl faster to Kalender’s side. She focused on the whorl of Kalender’s head and the rising and falling of his chest, yet every now and then, the glint of Arpeggio’s knife would invade her awareness.

Manager looked at Arpeggio. “Eat.”

Jyn couldn’t hear her own scream. She couldn’t hear anything: the gunfire, the raging fires, the moans of the charmed and the battle cries of the resistance — nor the sounds the knife made.

Her vision blurred. Why was she even alive?

***

In the bosom of the Throne of Lyrica, Amelia Thronekeeper stood in a white room, poking keys on a floating panel of glyphs. She wore only a white robe; her face was void of any emotion.

[Recharging - 99%] … the panel said.

***

All throughout Harmony, each fought to their own.

In Castle Westbreak, a breach had occurred. The gardens were lost. Priestess Tak helped stack pews against the door in the altar room. Lord Shal-yen wrapped bandages around his fists. His mother, Kal-yen, sat on the pinnacle of her tower with her spear, Crustpiercer, watching the ants below squirm over each other.

To the north, a squadron of Deramin’s rangers arrived to help with the defense. They fought to the death with bows and magic, outnumbered by rifles and teeth.

To the east, a battered but satisfied red demon knelt before Minimine. She knelt in front of him and raised his chin, looking at him eye-to-eye. “Come with me if you want to die so badly.”

***

Jyn watched Arpeggio stand. “Come here!” she shouted as much as her dry throat allowed her. “Just kill me!”

Arpeggio’s eyes flittered towards her, disinterested and as if looking at a street dog. They held their gaze on each other.

“So devoted!” Manager clapped slowly as he walked around Kalender’s body. He smiled at Jyn, and she bared her teeth. He chuckled. “Oh, feisty!” He stopped beside Arpeggio and pulled her in by the waist. “Ah, don’t get me wrong, a fierce woman is good too. If I had never met the woman of my life” — he kissed Arpeggio’s cheek and side-eyed Jyn — “I might have chosen you.”

His words went in one ear and out the other for her. “Just kill me.”

He chuckled and pulled away from Arpeggio. “Why bother with the request of a worm?” He smirked. He approached Jyn and circled around her. “What strength do you have?” He bent down and shouted at her: “You aren’t even beautiful!”

She felt his breath across the top of her head — as if that was enough to move her. “Just kill me,” she whispered.

He righted himself and rubbed his forehead. “Ah! This is what I can’t stand about mixed blood. It turns part of a woman’s grace into strength — but why? What’s the use of diluting the one thing they can have that men can’t?”

He sighed and laughed. “You know” — he snorted — “you know one thing?” He had to stop himself from giggling. “We’re not supposed to escape the grand design. We’re supposed to be these insignificant bugs” — words he emphasized with toxic overflow — “meant to be whipped for entertainment! So, so, I’m not wrong, right? I can’t be wrong!” He kicked her in the side. Another rib might’ve broken; she wouldn’t know. Her brain had decided she didn’t have to feel pain anymore. “You need power to fight fate! You need power to right what’s wrong!”

The kick had turned her over, and her view flipped from the ground to the starless deep blue sky. Manager stepped on her chest, and bent over to get a good look at her. His smile had never gone away. His bleech-white teeth irritated her. She’d rather see the real moon.

“This world,” he said, “has never given me anything. I don’t need it.”

He went away laughing. Laughter and poisoned words — was that all he knew? She was already seeing flashes in her vision. Finally. “In this moment…before death,” she prayed, gasping for breath between her words, “I beseech thee…soothe my pain…release me…from mine ails…and cast away…from me…the consequence…of my mortal chains…”

Manager chuckled. “How religious. Ah! Let me be your god, then!”

He raised his boot, and she stared at the mud caking his sole. Was he intending to turn her into pavement paste with that?

“As a special service for listening to me, I shall grant it.”

He was a monster after all: irredeemable, indecipherable, and above all else, repulsive with such a good face. No matter how much she hated him, she did actually listen to him. It was puzzling for her to realize right before her death: Somehow, he was made.

Ah, she could already see Minimine waving at her. A child-like figure beckoned to her, promising comfort and companionship in the afterlife. The once starless sky glimmered in her divine aura as she…gave a thumbs up?…

***

[Temporary Blessing received: Don’t Die!]

You just can’t. The attention of a goddess is on you, after all.

***

Her bones began to mend, and her fading vision turned crisp and clear. Oxygen returned to where they were needed, and with that returned the will to fight!… Or not.

Manager’s boot was a high-speed blunt guillotine over her head. He was the superior force here, and no matter how well she could dodge, he would always be faster. If the Blessing were to believed, she was about to experience the pain of death without even the grace of dying.

A gunshot rang in the air, and sparks flew past Manager’s arm stretched aside. Without understanding what had happened, she took the chance to roll away and get up, taking distance as far as she could. She pulled out a dagger and readied herself to fight, but something wasn’t right. The enemy wasn’t paying attention to her. Rather, his eyes had gone wide, looking far away to his right.

Amusement and contempt used to be his only emotions, and now, he also showed surprise.

“You dare!” Arpeggio shouted. She launched herself to the source of the shot. All Jyn saw was a blur, and then a series of sparks. Only once Arpeggio and her opponent had blown each other away and taken distance that the ruckus of steel-on-steel reached Jyn’s ears.

Confronting Arpeggio was a foreign swordsman with red skin — no, a demon? Behind him was another man with a Republican rifle.

A tear escape from her eye.

“How are you still alive?” the enemy said for her.