41. Dust and Sacrifice

[VISAGE Aspect: SINNER]

[MP Cost: 0]

[Karma Cost: 1,000 क per second]

[Aspect Description: Channel the Aspect of the Sinner to imbue the wielder with powers of ruination—that of both himself and his enemies. HP becomes 1. All Mitigations become 0%. Convert all damage to Martial type. Gain [Berserk] for up to 15 seconds, followed immediately by forced [Poise-break].]

[Addendum [BERSERK]: Reflexes, movement speed, and threat generation are massively enhanced. Gain 150% universal AV buff.]

***

Instead of a laughing Buddha, the mask now showed a—actually, Serac wasn’t too sure if this particular face had a ready-made descriptor.

Her first thought was of an old Rakshasa woman on a really bad day. It had a pair of horns, for a start, and bulging eyes that were reddish enough to pass for a resident Narakite (perhaps with a very bad thyroid condition).

But the prominent bony structure—coupled with a fanged mouth frozen in a gaping, menacing sneer—made the woman look much more likely to bite someone’s head off than to sit in meditation. If this was one of many ways a Rakshasa could age, Serac hoped fervently that she herself could steer well clear.

Whatever was the identity of VISAGE’s flip-side, it had an immediate and dramatic effect on its wearer. Zacko’s entire being now simmered with a visible bright-red aura. He’d also taken on a kind of palpable magnetism, one that drew Serac’s full attention and riveted her in place.

It soon became clear that she wasn’t the only one affected by Zacko’s new aura—and its enhanced threat generation. Hanuman re-entered the fray, this time as a giant’s arm that took up the entire diameter of Dashi’s dome of light. The arm kicked up bone dust as it swept low to the ground, no doubt intent on bulldozing everything in its path.

Including Dashi, Serac couldn’t help but note. I guess Zacko’s ‘threat’ is overwhelming all other regulating forces.

But the NINEFOLD master was ready to meet the giant halfway. Zacko dashed, lightning quick, putting himself between the boy and the arm. He then ended the motion by uncoiling a right-fisted punch from a wide stance.

[Sinner Aspect: THE THIRD DAO—FIST OF ERUPTION]

The empowered technique—more a force of nature than a feat of human athleticism—distorted the very air, sending out shockwaves even before it made contact with Hanuman’s armor. A deafening ‘BOOM!’ sounded just a fraction of a Ksana after the punch was thrown—thus demonstrating to Serac what it meant for something to break the sound barrier.

Hanuman’s forearm broke apart at the wrist, erupting into a cloud of bone dust. Zacko wasn’t done there, however. He followed the initial attack with a trio of punches, each more blindingly fast than the last, before finishing off the combo with a spinning kick.

[Sinner Aspect: THE SEVENTH DAO—SCYTHE OF ELIMINATION]

This kick too surpassed its human limits and then some, fanning out as an arc of red energy that swept through what remained of the giant’s limb. And just like that, at least a fifth of Hanuman’s entire body was gone in a matter of seconds.

If the pattern established in the first phase of the fight were to hold, this would be where Hanuman would retreat back into the storm and ‘heal’ itself. On this occasion, however, it remained in the light, with its impulse to punish the brazen Sinner before it overriding all other guiding principles.

Two arms this time, both about half the size of their predecessor. They flew towards Zacko in a coordinated effort to wall him in.

But the NINEFOLD master was too fast for them. Zacko leapt high into the air, causing Hanuman’s hands to slap together in prayer—absent a crushed Manusya in the middle.

Watching from the side, and despite her partner’s blinding fast movements, Serac knew what would come next. Whenever Zacko jumped, there was only one way the maneuver would end.

[Sinner Aspect: THE SIXTH DAO—HAMMER OF DEMOLITION]

Head goes up, head comes down. Hard.

The empowered technique—more a meteor strike than a leaping headbutt—not only erased both of Hanuman’s arms in an instant, it also left a sizable impact crater. More importantly, it crushed another big chunk of the Huskbound Sentinel into bone dust.

Holy hell, Serac thought, as her gaping mouth spread into a broad grin, he’s going to do it! Zacko’s about to finish this fight all by himself!

In the moment, Serac’s delight was unclouded by Karma envy or even frustrations about her own shortcomings. Zacko (who, admittedly, was usually pretty good at ass-kicking) was kicking ass with an all-time efficiency and unprecedented flair. It was simply fun to watch, and Serac allowed herself the simple joy of watching a master craftsman at work.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

When Hanuman came back into the frame, it was in its speedier tweener form—far from giant but also not quite man-sized. It came at Zacko with fists raised and feet light, all but mirroring the NINEFOLD master’s stances and techniques.

Zacko met the challenge with the aplomb of a seasoned warrior. He dodged one punch and blocked another with a well-timed [Shield]. The block momentarily stunned the Huskbound Boxer, which left more than enough opening for Zacko’s counter-punishment.

[Sinner Aspect: THE FIRST DAO—EDGE OF RUINATION]

The empowered technique—more the final masterstroke in a deadly duel than a karate chop—ripped through the opponent as a hefty red blade. It tore Hanuman’s Huskbound body cleanly in half, causing both sides to scatter into dust.

Victory? On this occasion, victory demanded one more push, as Hanuman’s dust gathered and reshaped itself one last time—into a Huskbound Halfling that stood barely at Zacko’s chest height. The thing was now shorter even than most Rakshasas of the flesh-bound variety.

Hah! One such Rakshasa reveled in the scene that unfolded before her. Now’s your chance to finish it off, Zacko! Take that full Karma reward, why don’t you? You’ve certainly earned it…

Victory—or ruination? Zacko readjusted his stance for another attempt at a smiting blow… only for that stance to break immediately, as he keeled over and fell to his knees.

What? Yet, even as the question ran through a horrified Serac’s mind, she already knew the answer. Poise-break.

She’d seen the phenomenon too many times not to recognize it on her Wayfaring partner. Whatever force powered VISAGE’s Sinner Aspect was too taxing for a mortal Manusya to sustain, and Zacko was now paying the full price.

Then, several things happened simultaneously—some a little too fast and some a little too slowly for Serac’s liking.

First, Hanuman took no pity on its opponent’s misfortune, winding back a now rather unimpressive arm for its own attempt at a finishing blow.

Second, Serac dashed to intercede—a little too slowly for her own liking. She was momentarily caught in two minds between a speculative REVOLVER shot and a more melee-minded solution, before remembering that Hanuman, even in its vertically challenged form, was still not a problem she could shoot at.

Third, another figure—one even smaller than Hanuman’s latest iteration—entered the frame.

Dashi had reacted before anyone else to Zacko’s moment of vulnerability. The boy dropped his lantern onto the sand and ran forward, now putting himself between the man and the fist that would claim his life.

“No!”

Serac’s plea came too little too late. Hanuman’s punch connected with Dashi’s chest with a sickening crunch, sending the boy tumbling in Zacko’s direction. The man, still Poise-broken, could do nothing but watch as the Rakshasa child flopped onto his arms like a ragdoll.

Oddly enough, Dashi’s interference had produced a visible effect on the Huskbound Sentinel that had thrown the punch. For a moment, Hanuman stood frozen like the statue it was, with arm and fist still held rigid, while its face remained an ever-stony mask. For this one moment, it made no move to finish its assault on a helpless opponent.

That momentary delay allowed Serac to act with the decisiveness she’d lacked all fight long. It was anger that drove her now. Anger at a heartless enemy, to be sure, but also anger at herself. And something even more dreadful lay beyond that anger, but for now, she forced herself to focus on what needed to be done.

[Auxiliary Technique: THE GRIND]

It was so simple in the end.

[GREATER ABERRANT SMITED]

[Waystation Privilege awarded. Current charge: 1]

A boss fight that had taken two separate encounters, a trip across the Badlands, and a frenetic dance amidst the heart of the storm finally came to an end—thanks to some old-fashioned rock-on-rock violence…

… And the sacrifice of an innocent child.

“Dashi!”

Serac ran to the child’s side. She paid no heed to a Hanuman that finally dissolved into Souldust (not bone), nor did she notice the incoming Karma of [4,920 क] (with Serac, ironically enough, receiving the bonus for a smiting blow).

She had eyes only for Dashi’s folded, lifeless body. And ears for—was that Dashi’s breathing?

The boy was still alive! But just barely, judging from his shallow, erratic respiration, as well as the color that quickly drained from his cinnabar skin.

“Oh gods,” Serac whimpered, herself breathless with stress. “What do we do, what do we do, what do we do? Trippy! Do I know any healing spells?”

“You do not, Wayfarer.”

“Damnit! Wait. Dashi, you know some magic healing stuff, don’t you? Can you… can you heal yourself? Please?”

Dashi made no reply. If the boy did know healing spells, he was clearly in no condition to cast them. What was more, looking at him now, Serac doubted very much that Dashi knew much else other than being the sweet, innocent boy that he was.

For this clearly wasn’t the same child that had rescued the Wayfarers just the night before. The Dashi that now lay crumpled in Zacko’s arms had every appearance of that mysterious stranger, but he’d been stripped clean of that confident, impossibly mature veneer.

Now, the illusion had been well and truly lifted. Serac saw Dashi the lantern boy for the young, frightened, and brave child that he was. And her heart broke anew for his dying soul.

“Why’d you do it, kid?”

The strangely distant sound of Zacko’s voice caught Serac’s attention. The Manusya had recovered his Poise, but he remained on his knees, with muscular arms wrapped gently around the scrawny child. His eyes were morose and downcast, reflecting not just the boy in his arms but also the indelible regrets that followed a Sinner to the ends of the earth.

“You know you shouldn’t have,” the man continued, voice quiet but unbroken. “I’m a Wayfarer. I might’ve lost the fight, but I could’ve come back for round three. But you… You know the right thing was to look after yourself. So, why’d you do it, Dashi?”

At Zacko’s words, the child finally stirred. He half-opened a pair of hazy eyes, strained his discolored lips into something that almost resembled a smile, then spoke with all the strength of a mote of dust that drifted in the wind.

“You… said it yourself… Wayfarer,” Dashi whispered. “There are… some fights I can’t back down from… even if it’s the right thing to do.”