Chapter 73: Earth, Wind and Fire (7)

Sylvester sat up. Every cell in his body screamed, and he felt like vomiting. But he sat up.

"What the hell do we do now?"

His head was clear, though in a way he wished it wasn't, but that didn't help him find the way.

"What were you doing before?" Jonathan asked.

At first, he thought it was a bad joke, the kind only an immortal being could waste time on in a situation like this. For him, there was no danger, so he didn't give a damn about anything. But when he turned to look at him as if he had the power to make him stop, he realized it was a serious question.

Which, precisely for that reason, perhaps, they weren't the kind to joke around.

And how to answer that?

Nothing.

They hadn't been doing anything. He had gone mad, controlled by that evil sword, and the others had been busy dealing with the consequences of his actions.

Like the massacre he had perpetrated in that wretched place, while they fled from him and begged for mercy. Now that he could look back, it was so obvious. They hadn't even tried to defend themselves. They were just scared and confused because their hero had turned against them after saving them.

People had learned to depend on him, so when he went mad, they had no one to turn to.

He couldn't imagine that desperation.

His blood would always stain his hands.

Yes, he had fallen under the effects of a power. He couldn't have realized it, but telling himself that wouldn't cleanse the guilt. Not when he could see their faces twisted in fear. Not when he could hear their screams of pain.

The least he could do was carry that pain as a curse until the day he finally died. Probably soon, he thought.

"Nothing that worked. That's why you had to save my life" Sylvester finally replied.

For the first time in many years, his fate had been and still was in the hands of others.

It was frustrating. Humiliating.

He had to find a way to regain his powers soon. He was nothing without them. It was already too late to even think about living a normal life, but without his powers, he wouldn't even survive this night.

The mere idea that he might have lost them forever was unbearable.

There had to be a way.

Even if it was childish, for now, he had to cling to the idea that there was hope, as long as he didn't stop trying.

In response, Jonathan shrugged.

"Alright. I'll manage as always."

And he set off, leaving them behind in the blink of an eye.

There was no contempt in his gaze. Sylvester understood the most humiliating part of all. Jonathan couldn't realize that he was weak, used to crushing his enemies like ants, it had seemed natural to him that he fell so easily before him.

He didn't even suspect that there was something wrong or different about him.

He saw him land in the middle of the demonic army. He saw him sow death and chaos again.

Clenching his teeth.

Clenching them out of pure frustration.

Yes, when Heather had joined him and Cynthia received powers like his, he hadn't felt happy at all, though he should have been. This was a thousand times worse. Because he had to worry about him. Because that man would be an enemy sooner or later, and he didn't see him as a threat. He was nothing to him.

The feeling of humiliation could drive him mad.

Heather put a hand on his shoulder as if she understood what he was thinking. He hoped not, but despite his best efforts, that woman knew him too well. He would say better than himself. He didn't know how she had managed it, but in the end, what mattered was that there was no turning back.

And he didn't want to. He didn't want to turn back.

First of all, he had to survive this terrible night, however.

A hellish midnight illuminated by the moonlight and colors from another planet.

"Heather?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry." She seemed confused. "For what I did to you."

"Oh. You really didn't do anything to me. Besides, it's us. The first time we met, we tried to kill each other. It was like receiving your affection."

Sylvester smiled despite himself. So she could joke like that. Heather wasn't the only one discovering new things about herself. Accompanying her on that exploration, hand in hand, felt nice.

"I should take you back to the base" Heather said.

With her, it was just the opposite. She thought she was stronger than anyone, so he hadn't had to tell her anything. Seeing him defeated had been enough for her to correctly assume that something was wrong with him. It was nice to have her by his side. It had reached the point where he didn't know what he would do without her.

The person who understands me best isn't even a human being.

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What did that say about him?

He didn't know. Not long ago, the mere idea that a relationship like this could be possible would have made him angry. But now he refused to think it was a mistake. It wasn't perfect, of course. Nothing was perfect, but it was, he believed, what they both needed.

Wasn't that enough?

"After what... What I did..." Heather took his hand, it should be him comforting her. Obviously not because of gender roles, but because he was the one who almost gutted her like a pig. However, it was nice. Holding hands even in the middle of this flaming hell. A strange normality. "I started to lose my powers. Not completely, not yet, but I'm afraid it won't last long."

"That's why that man defeated you. More reason to get you out of here."

Sylvester shook his head gently. She wasn't wrong, but...

"But..."

"I'm not going to die, but this isn't something I can run away from, Heather." He squeezed her hand and after a few seconds let go, taking a step forward. "It has always been my destiny. To be in the middle of disasters like this. Besides, I don't think my powers will come back because I run away with my tail between my legs. Also, I understand how you feel, but I'm already a target. I can't just stop fighting even if I run away."

"Okay" Heather said slowly after a while. "But if you die, I'll never forgive you."

Sylvester smiled.

"I wouldn't forgive myself either." He raised a hand to his ear, establishing contact. "I need you to prepare a satellite quickly. No, I don't think the barrier will hold for long, but something is something. So move your damn asses."

It was a lie. Sylvester had no intention of enclosing this city whose name he still didn't know within a barrier. Because it wouldn't hold anything. He was sure those beings would break it as if it were made of paper. The same would happen even if they made an electric barrier with countless layers. They simply existed on a different plane of existence.

No matter what he had drawn on a piece of paper, as real as it seemed, any pen could poke holes in it. The night sky was full of such holes.

It was that simple.

For that very reason, he had decided to lie. It was easier to lie about the reason he wanted the satellite's energy than to waste time explaining it. Every second counted. Even if it didn't seem like it. The alien colors were a constant assault on his senses, but the monsters had been leaving them alone for a while, as if they couldn't see them. Or as if time had frozen.

Maybe because they had their hands full with the Emperor.

In any case, that was how it was, and they had been able to talk in something resembling peace.

Heather stayed close to him at all times. She wanted to protect him and the truth was he wanted to be protected to some extent.

A roar. The energy fired from space cut through the night sky like nothing and struck the edge of his sword. Sylvester directed all that energy towards the nearest tree. It was a clean cut. Split in half, it fell to the ground. The earth trembled and a cloud of dust rose so high as to challenge the skyscrapers that still stubbornly remained in the urban skyline like the footprints of the previous generation.

The question was, had it worked?

In a way.

The colors from another world or dimension died. It took him a while to realize that as they had been burned into his retinas. Besides, the army of demons like giant insects stopped flowing from that point.

The problem was that it wasn't enough to change the situation.

How long would it take him to do the same with the rest of the trees in the city, to begin with? Too long.

And that wouldn't stop the army already in the city, in any case. It's not like they would die as soon as they ran out of those trees.

It was time to admit it. He had tried to think of a way he could still be useful and had failed.

A bitter pill. Sylvester swallowed.

He could jump into the middle of that army of monsters, but being honest with himself, even in the best-case scenario, he would be a hindrance. The wounds he had suffered in that other dimension hadn't affected him. But now he was back in the real world, if he got gutted, it would be over. His power was generously at ten percent of his strength.

He had no place here.

It was that simple.

"You better take me back" Sylvester said, lowering his sword, and his head too. It was humiliating. Especially because he had tried to act strong like a couple of minutes ago and was already changing his mind. But it was also true. He gained nothing by running from the truth. He was a priority target even without his powers, but as long as he didn't recover them, he had no place on the battlefield. He had to let himself be protected.

As much as he hated it.

As unbearable as the idea was to him.

Heather said nothing, there was nothing she could say. She just put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing, showing her solidarity.

Good.

If she had shown pity, or turned her back on him now that they were no longer so similar, he wouldn't know what he would have done.

Heather wrapped him in her arms before taking flight over the ruined city violated by an alien presence. Just like him. They had taken away the most important thing. They had given it to him one day, changing his life forever, and as if by whim, they had taken it away in the end.

What meaning could it have?

Maybe it was just a cosmic accident.

Ants could strive to give meaning to the boot that had crushed their anthill, while the human simply hadn't seen it. Sylvester bit his tongue to keep from laughing, even though it wasn't funny at all.

"Do you think I've done well?" he asked. "Have I done more good than harm in the world?"

"What kind of question is that? Of course, you have. This world would have died a long time ago if you weren't here."

She said it as if it were common sense. Looking at the corpse of the city being devoured by those monsters and the trees stuck everywhere like huge spears, emitting colors that burned the retinas and seemed to pass through him to dirty his soul, he couldn't believe it was that simple.

Then Heather, as if she had read his mind...

"Even if we fail, every extra day has meaning. Even if it's just one more day to live, to feel. To love."

She pierced his defenses with a perfect thrust.

She said naturally that everything had meaning even if there was no trace left. An end without any kind of continuation or possible observation.

Sylvester swallowed.

He couldn't say anything. Nothing at all.

Ryan and Cynthia are fighting down there, and I can't.

Heather should be fighting, but she's not because of me.

He should stop feeling sorry for himself. He couldn't do anything about it anymore.

Something hit them. The air was ripped from his lungs violently even though it only grazed him. He didn't even see what hit them, but he knew. Sylvester tried to grab Heather's hand. She also extended hers, but their fingers didn't even touch.

The free fall continued, spinning towards the depths of hell.

He wasn't worried about the ground getting closer, but about Heather getting farther away. Twisting in the air, just like him, struggling to regain control of her flight. He could no longer fly. He was at the mercy of gravity. Forced to crawl on the ground like ordinary mortals.

He couldn't even bear something brushing against him without tasting his own blood in his throat.

Broken ribs. A punctured lung.

And a fall towards certain death. He hadn't even seen the thing that hit them. It moved too fast for him. It blended into the living, tar-like darkness of the night sky.

He only saw it half a second before the next impact, and seeing was too generous a word. A fleeting flash of which he didn't really capture anything. And any shred, any mental image he might have started to build, was scattered to the four winds when the monster struck him. Throwing him against the wall of one of the buildings. The concrete caved in, and Sylvester lay in the crater.

The creature, a shadow among shadows, came for him a third time.

There wouldn't be a fourth.

It hurt too much to move his limbs, much less dodge.

Then...

I died.

But that's not right. Something like this can't kill me and I refuse to die.

Earth, Wind and Fire (7): FIN