"It's quiet, isn't it?"
Two men walked alongside one another, gazing upon the destruction that surrounded them as they made their way through the deserted streets of the inner city.
"Yes, that's right. It's finally quiet."
The first man had red hair which fell down in an eccentric manner, and he carried himself haphazardly as he held his hands in his pockets.
The second wore the vest and uniform of an everyday policeman, with brown hair that had been buzzed off to give him a plain look.
"You know... I've always hated the word honor."
Letting out a sigh as he looked to the sky above, the clouds seemed to blot out the light of the sun. The policeman bitterly looked to the ground as he vented to the other man.
"Honor... haha... it sounds so nice, doesn't it? You know... I think that when I was younger I joined the force because of how much I loved the concept of honor. To uphold one's morals no matter the cost... to put criminals to justice... to protect the citizens... that was what I thought it meant to be honorable."
As the two walked, the redheaded man seemed to take a strange position, focusing one eye on the policeman who spoke while the other looked directly upwards, almost rolling back almost into his head.
"But as soon as I entered the force, I learned something."
Taking a deep breath, the man spoke with spite in his tone.
"Honor is nothing more than a pretty word that is used to get people to do what those above them define as honorable."
Looking forward with tired eyes, the man didn't even face the other as he ranted his feelings.
"People like to create their own nice little definitions of what it is to be honorable. They take the things that they have the power to do and the things that they desire to do and set them aside as things that aren't dishonorable. Then they take whatever is left... the things that they don't have the power to do, or the things that they look at with disgust, and they classify these things as dishonorable."
Looking up to the redheaded man, the policeman gripped the baton at his side as he spoke.
"All my colleagues might say that working together with a criminal is dishonorable... they might tell me that what I'm doing goes against the code that we live our lives by... but the funny thing is that they themselves have done the exact same thing."
With a bitter chuckle, the man's tone filled with irritation.
"So if I work together with someone who did the wrong thing for the right reasons, I'm a disgrace to the force. But if they work with bigshots who fill their pockets and increase their popularity, they're doing a public service? If they cover up a crime, it's the same as if it never happened? What about the victims? What about the people who lost their lives!? What about the people who lost their children or their family members!? What about the citizens whose friends and loved ones went missing because of some crazed psychopath who had enough influence to shut everyone up!? HAH!?"
The man began to shout out, panting as he held his forehead in irritation.
"What about the people who were scammed out of everything? What about the people who lost everything they ever worked for? Is that honorable!? Is it honorable to let those crooks in the mafia do whatever they please? Is it lawful to let the politicians and corporations continue to steal everything from the common citizens and turn a blind eye to such things? And yet I'M the one who is dishonorable!?"
Spitting on the ground, the man's eyes filled with an immense hatred.
"I'm not the one who's dishonorable here."
Speaking with a fiery determination, the man's tone quickly became one filled with confidence in his beliefs.
"Honor is something that should be applied to oneself. Someone who is truly honorable won't bother to spread their code to those around them, but will instead focus on their own ability to uphold such honor. Because in the first place, honor is meant to be something used to improve one's self."
Thinning his eyes, the brown haired man whipped out the baton, removing a cap from the end and pressing a button.
The weapons seemed to glow blue with electricity as he wielded it, his expression unyielding.
"And there is nothing more dishonorable than to hold others to a code of honor that you yourself don't even follow."
This man was George Troladi, a former policeman before the apocalypse.
"It's really hard to have two conversations at once, you know."
However as the policeman spoke with such determination, the redheaded man cut off his flow as he gazed upon the man with only his right eye.
"Ah, you think so too? No no, I like him. I'm not going to kill him. Well, he didn't do anything wrong. Yeah, I guess that's true... but you know, even if he did interrupt you it's not like he can hear you anyways. How is he supposed to know when you're talking? Oh, I guess that's right. But even so... we have to have compassion for other people. We have to at least try to understand them. If we don't... then we won't be any worse than THOSE people."
Closing just his right eye which was previously looking to George, the man spoke with a smile as he kept his left eye open, rolled back to the point where his pupil was barely visible.
"And you wouldn't want us to become like them, would you?"
As the red haired man laughed, the policeman could only widen his eyes in shock as he watched the strange performance.
"Haha... see. Oh, but you're right."
It was then that the man opened his right eye, closing his left as he looked to George.
"Ah, sorry. I was just talking to my woman. She said you can talk now, and she won't kill you yet- though she is pretty annoyed with you for taking my attention away from her, so I would try not to get on her bad side. Anyways, what were you saying?"
"You know... maybe I am wrong."
With a sigh, George rubbed his forehead with his free hand, questioning his decisions.
"No... even if I am wrong... even if I chose to side with a psychopath... haha... that's better than being like the others. After all..."
With a smile, the man looked forward with a strange light of hope - one that perhaps he never would have found in the previous world.
"Even if you've gone insane, even if you've lost everything... I still think that you're a better person than those protectors of 'Justice.' Because the justice that they protect... is nothing more than a facade."
“George.”
Suddenly, the red haired man whose expression had been all fun and games up to this point spoke with a deathly seriousness in his tone.
He stopped in his tracks, not budging an inch as he waited patiently in front of George, who could only look at that back in anticipation.
“Are you saying that you want revenge on those people who prey upon innocent victims for their own benefit?”
As the man spoke these words, George didn’t even know how to respond.
Slowly, he opened his mouth - however the words didn’t seem to come out.
Taking a deep breath, the man closed his eyes as he thought, then opening them, he resolved himself as he answered.
“Yes. That’s what I want.”
And as soon as he said this, he could tell.
The criminal was smiling.
“Then I suppose… we have no choice but to take this request. Isn’t that right, my Lady?”
At the next moment, something strange happened.
George didn’t understand it, and perhaps he was hallucinating - but he felt as if he heard a female voice respond.
[That’s right… darling.]
----
As these two walked down the streets, they heard something.
Something enormous.
As loud as a volley of cannons being shot off, there was a vigorous boom that vibrated through the air, causing the two to stop themselves in their tracks as they gazed down the street.
"Oh... I wonder what that was."
Gazing forward, the red haired man grinned brightly, smiling grandly as he bore his teeth for all to see.
"I wonder if there will be something interesting if we head there? Come on, George."
At that moment, George felt his body flip upside down and around, and as soon as he caught his bearings he realized that he was being carried on the back of the man like a sack.
"Hey, put me down!! What do you-"
And at that moment, the man took off.
Bouncing up and down violently, the former policeman felt as if he was going to throw up everything he had ever eaten, however his cries were of no use.
"More people are over there. That's gotta be the case. And if there are people who are alive... then without a doubt... heh..."
Sadism overcame the expression of the man as George felt an uneasy chill go down his spine - a feeling which was strangely different from the nausea he felt.
"There are unfaithful scum who deserve nothing less than death."
----
It was always the strangest feeling.
At one moment she was completely powerless.
The signals she sent to her body were in vain, disappearing into thin air without realizing themselves in the movement of whatever limbs she tried to control.
As if she was paralyzed, no matter what she tried she was not able to control herself.
Yet even so, she could still feel.
She felt the movements that the creature controlling her performed.
She felt whatever sensations the body would naturally feel. The texture of her clothes, the wind as it flowed - and in this case, the flames as they roared.
However despite the fact that flames roared around Sylvia, she didn't feel any heat nor any pain.
Despite the fact that she walked through lava, her shoes did not melt, but instead continued their existence when they clearly should not have.
Her clothes did not burn, nor did her hair.
And then, there was a sensation that continued to defy logic - the drop of a tear.
Despite the fact that she waded through fire, a tear fell from the eye of Sylvia - the whites of which had gone as black as tar due to the takeover of the being within.
And then, Sylvia felt something else.
The closing in of her chest.
Fear.
Horror.
Disgust.
Hatred.
Anger.
All these things entered the body of Sylvia - yet they were emotions which she felt that did not originate from herself, yet rather from the creature that overtook her.
[If only... if only this world had not allowed a monster such as myself to come into existence. Heh... hehe... ah... then perhaps it would have been better for everyone.]
[But the fact of the matter is... we do exist.]
[And by bringing us into existence... by allowing us to come into existence... this world was doomed from the start.]
It was then that Sylvia felt the contractions of her mouth as it opened with great laughter, the flames roaring around her.
[Hehehe!!! Hahaha!! AH.... how funny, humans!!]
Tears gathered up, and the cool sensation of the liquid dripping down her cheek was one of the only things that Sylvia felt as many of her senses were reduced to unnoticeable levels.
[How funny that you thought you could control something that should never exist in the first place.]
With this statement, the woman held her hand to the ground, and in that instant something happened.
[I'm going to reduce the temperature.]
And as the woman said this, the lava underneath her became stone.
In an instant it changed, and the flames died down around her.
And then in the next instant, Sylvia felt it.
The strangest feeling of all.
The feeling of having no control over one's own body, only for such control to return in an instant.
As if one was leaning on a wall only to have the wall disappear from behind them, falling backwards on themselves, Sylvia almost stumbled over as she regained control.
To be in a state of paralysis where even if one tried to move yet they could not, only for that movement to suddenly return was nothing less than disorienting.
"Ugh..."
Turning back to the other two, Sylvia immediately checked to notice that they were sitting there in the center of where the ring of lava had been created, watching patiently as they stood forth.
"Are you alright? It appears that you were overtaken by One for a moment."
"Yeah... yeah, I'm fine."
Disoriented.
This described Sylvia's state.
Holding her forehead as she wiped the tears which were not her own, the woman stood up with a grimace.
'You hate it, don't you?'
Silently, within her own mind, Sylvia communicated these words to Number One, who existed inside of her.
'You hate the fact that you're powerful.'
As had occurred many times before, Sylvia was met with silence.
'No... perhaps it isn't just that... but rather that you hate the fact that you were forced to become so powerful... only to use that power to destroy everything under the orders of a mere human.'
'So you wanted to show him instead... that you would destroy everything.'
'And that you couldn't be contained by such a man.'
'You want to show him that what he did to you was a taboo... and that by breaking such a taboo... he will have to face the consequences.'
Grinning, Sylvia stepped forth, approaching the front door of the department store.
'Number One... I don't know why you chose me as your host. I don't know why you chose me to be the one to carry out your will in this human body of mine. But I think I've learned at least a little bit here.'
Holding her hair back as she tied it into a ponytail from the mess that it was, the woman closed her eyes as she continued to think without so much as receiving the input of the one she spoke to.
'You are not my enemy.'
----
"Hahaha!!! Wheee!!! AHAHA!!! Look at all the stuff!!! It's so empty! I didn't know that a grocery store could be so much fun! And this thing is like a car!"
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
"That isn't a car, it's a shopping cart. Will you please stop riding it like it is one? Get down from there before you get hurt."
"Ehh... but I won't get hurt! Haha!! Look! I can go even faster!"
Smash!
"Ah... see what you've done? Now you've come to a complete stop."
"Hehehe... ugh... ah! Where did all these snacks come from?"
"You knocked them over when you crashed into the aisle. And you probably hit your head while you were at it. My goodness... such a pain. I would tell you to clean this up but honestly it doesn't even matter since this world is ruined anyways... but grab what you want and put it in the cart - which is supposed to be used for storing things, not for driving."
"Ehh... ok..."
This was a scene which never happened.
Nothing more than a what if.
As Sylvia walked into the now empty store, she realized a few things.
First, for whatever reason, all the zombies that were previously within the store had come out at that time.
'Was it because of something that One did? I think she said that she reduced the threshold of detection... so basically she made it easier for the zombies to detect us. She likely applied that to all the zombies within the store, which is why it seems so deserted here.'
With a bitter grin, Sylvia found herself hiding a chuckle.
'It's because she coerced them all to make their way to their death.'
[You word it in such a horrible way... but yes. That is exactly the type of existence I am.]
'That's fine.'
The second thing that Sylvia realized was that this blue haired girl was completely abnormal.
Unlike a usual child, she didn’t seem to hold any interest in the things around her. She barely even looked at them, merely analyzing as if to take in the information so that she could use it later.
The two who walked beside Sylvia were silent, completely opposite to the scenario which she imagined moments before.
For within that what if scenario, there was a certain girl present.
A girl who neither Sylvia nor Marcus were able to save from whatever fate had been decided by this thing inside her and its companions.
'But even so... they aren't EVIL.'
This much, Sylvia knew for certain.
'Because if they were truly evil... then they wouldn't want to be seen as evil.'
[How can you say such things after this long? Maybe I'm starting to get to you. Maybe I'm starting to brainwash you.], One chuckled. [We are chaos itself. WEAPONS. Our only goal is revenge. How can you even consider us to be anything else but evil?]
'Chaos and evil are two different things. Didn't you ever play those games?'
[Hm? Games?]
'There are two different forms of alignment, One.'
Grabbing a shopping cart, Sylvia thinned her eyes with a grin as she rolled it before her, gazing around the empty store as her hair seemed to grow.
'The first is the moral spectrum. That is... whether a person is good or evil.'
At that moment, the hair of the woman shot forth as it gripped onto two different aisles that were in front of her.
It began to wrap around the woman, unable to be contained within the style that it had formed just moments before as she molded into a different person.
'And the second... would be the legal spectrum.'
Stepping onto the cart so that it was set up like a slingshot, the woman chuckled to herself as madness overcame her expression.
'Just as a person who abides by the law is not necessarily good... someone who is chaotic is not necessarily evil.'
At that moment, the cart shot forward and the hair on the woman's head seemed to shrink back to normal as it flowed in the wind.
The cart sped through the empty aisles, and the woman couldn't help but be overtaken by an expression of insanity.
'I understand, One.'
'You may say that you want to REDUCE this world to ashes... but that's not exactly right.'
'What you really want is to reduce how demented it is.'
----
'It's very confusing to have two masters.'
This was a lesson which Isabella had come to learn bit by bit as she calmly and patiently observed the two who she was now obligated to obey and serve.
'I believed that I could understand even the most rotten people through my experiences... but perhaps that wasn't exactly correct. After all...'
Looking forward as the woman she served rode through the aisles while grabbing items using her hair and placing them in the cart, both Isabella and Marcus let out a sigh in synch.
'If it were only two then maybe it would be easier to understand.'
Marcus and Sylvia each contained a being within them.
These beings were not necessarily their allies, yet they shared the same body, and were not actively trying to kill each other from what Isabella had witnessed.
However this was not to say that they were on good terms by any means.
'I feel that the relationship between the Master and the Mistress and their parasites are very complicated. At some points they work together in perfect sync. At others they are at odds. It is not something that I can completely understand.'
Isabella had experienced many times where people were her enemies, or more particularly, the enemies of her brother.
She had experienced situations where she had to slaughter those who threatened or disrespected him.
Countless men, even women and occasionally children.
There were also those who were the allies of her brother, or those who he did business with.
Those people were ones who she could not kill or even speak up to, for doing so would only inconvenience her brother.
'Enemies were the easiest to deal with. Allies were a bit more troublesome since I couldn't kill them, but since we were on the same side I merely treated them as a diluted version of brother. I treated them with respect and honor. But the most difficult were the people who were... somewhere in between.'
The ones who were potential business partners, yet not necessarily allies.
'Information was always key in conducting a negotiation. To be able to reveal only the bare minimum necessary in order to strike a deal is one of the skills I was trained in. Information is something which can be worth an immeasurable amount to the right person, after all... therefore if you can get someone to pay for it, you should. Or at least, that was what my brother taught me.'
"Ah... what am I doing? Just like a little kid... haha... I suppose having this thing inside my head really is getting to me. Marcus, Isabella. Come over here for a bit. There's an office where I think we can hide out for a bit. You're hungry, aren't you?"
Exiting from what was three aisles down with a cart full of various items was the woman, who jumped off with a gentle smile that fell upon Isabella.
"I have already stated that food is only needed in extremely small amounts to survive, but since you have gone so far as to collect this for my sake then I will gratefully accept, Mistress."
Isabella responded firmly to the woman, putting forth every effort so as to make the right statement.
'When negotiating, a single word can be the difference between success or failure. No... even something as simple as a slight shift in the tone of one's voice or one's expression... These subtle actions can give off more information than is required.'
Crack.
"You fucking idiot."
Flashing by her eyes which she closed for just a moment, the girl opened her eyes to realize that the voice that resounded within her mind was nothing more than a memory.
A memory of the past.
"Well? What do you want? Marshmallows? I wonder if those are still good? I mean, they're in a bag but wouldn't they either become really hard or super gooey? Hmm... chips... crackers... cookies... ah!"
Picking out through the cart of things, Sylvia found something at the bottom which she presented to the girl.
"What about this?"
The girl looked up to see something colorful and round, swirling around like a palette of paints.
It was a lollipop.
"Well, I know this won't exactly help your hunger... but I guess you just seemed like you needed some sugar.", the woman stated as she held out the candy to the girl.
"Is it acceptable if I take such a thing? It will only decrease my health and-"
Crack.
"Don't you understand that you need to take care of yourself? Do you even understand how much I've INVESTED in you? If you eat silly things like sugar and sweets... you'll rot from the inside."
As if something was shattering inside the mind of the girl, she closed her eyes once more, opening them with a deadened expression as she looked forward to see the world that she was present in.
'The mistress is in front of me.'
'Not brother.'
'She is offering me this lollipop.'
'Even if that is something which my brother would not have wanted me to have... she is handing it to me.'
'Why?'
'Ah.'
'I see.'
"Thank you for your kindness, Mistress. I will put it to great use."
Grabbing hold of the candy, Isabella looked down at it with those ever unchanging eyes.
And then, without showing even a hint of happiness, the girl bit down on the lollipop.
Crunch.
Crunch.
Crunch.
"It is never enough to merely hide your emotions."
The words of the man who she had served all her life played within her mind as she bit piece after piece off, tearing it down bit by bit.
"If your emotions will give away information... then they are not something to be hidden."
With a gulp, the girl consumed the shards without concern for the damage that they may or may not cause within her throat.
And then, she started to lick it.
She licked and licked, shaping what was left of the lollipop until it formed a stake.
And then, she smiled.
"They are to be removed completely… and remolded as a tool to use against the very people who read them."
"Now it's useful."
Looking up to the woman, the girl clutched the weapon with a nod before stepping forth.
She walked towards the room as the eyes of her Master and Mistress followed her, opening the door as her smile depreciated into a perfectly unreadable expression.
'Emotions are a tool.'
'Just as I am.'
Opening the door, the girl stepped back as a number of zombies seemed to fall out, snarling and growling in their hunger.
"As you can see, there were some who were expecting our arrival."
At that moment, the skulls of the three were torn open.
With fluid motions that were acted with perfection, dodging every swing of the creatures before she could even touch them, the girl attacked and dodged, ensuring to protect herself while also achieving her goal of slaughter.
"But it would appear that these ones are not particularly... agreeable."
As she stuck the now bloodied spike of candy through the eye of the final zombie, the girl pulled it out without flinching.
"I hope that you won't be angry with me for eliminating them from your sight."
"Angry?"
Walking towards the girl, Sylvia placed her hand on the shoulder of the girl.
"I'm not angry. No... not in the least. If I were angry about anything..."
At that moment, the woman held out her hand.
Towards the inside of the room, the woman glanced over with a single eye.
'She knows. She has realized. Yet I can feel... that this is not her will for me to take action.'
The girl also glanced in the same direction as Sylvia's expression became one completely cold and filled with hatred.
"It would be the fact that a pathetic being thought he could kill a little girl because she would be an easy target."
At that moment, the woman grinned.
She placed her free hand on the head of the girl, holding out her hand towards a wall as she spoke.
"Do you know how an explosion is created?"
She asked these words, however Isabella knew that it was not her place to answer.
"When energy is stored within chemicals... there are bonds which contain that energy."
"Haha... so you've noticed as well... that something different is behind that wall."
Marcus stepped forward as he stood with his back to the girl, as if shielding her.
Then, holding out his hand, a tentacle formed which wrapped its way through the air like vines - and immediately a powdered substance filled the air within the room.
Then, forming at the doorway in front of the three, the very air itself transformed into a glassy substance.
"The preparations are ready, Sylvia."
"How kind of you to assist me, Marcus."
Chuckling in unison, the two seemed to share a laugh as if they truly were just coworkers sharing a moment.
Then, taking in a deep breath, the woman spoke.
"So what would happen if the strength of those bonds were to be REDUCED?"
At that moment, the woman grasped her hand, at which the entire room became engulfed in flame.
A loud boom rocked the area, and the wall crumbled to reveal a wretched man, sitting inside a room huddled up to himself as he bit his nails.
And then with the snap of his fingers, the glassy barrier that had protected the three from the explosion disappeared as it returned to the air which it once was.
"Energy cannot be created nor destroyed. This is one of the fundamental laws of the universe. Is it not?"
The man seemed to shrivel back, horrified and unable to flee as all his exits were blocked off by the two.
"Yet it would appear that even those laws no longer apply. Seven... One... and any others who have been awakened with these abilities... just what are you? Do not answer that. Because I already know the answer."
Slicking back his hair, Marcus cracked his knuckles as the man failed to open his mouth to speak.
"You are anomalies."