Two weeks had passed. Akiko and Sun had became close friends and often went out on dates. None of them had locked lips yet, but they had held hands (which was lewd) as they were doing while walking across the bridge.
“So, Akiko, I was wondering,” Sun asked.
“My name is Cornflower.”
“Right, yeah, Cornflower, I was wondering...when are we going to get married?”
Cornflower stopped. Her face became red like a ripe tomato. “I-uh-ah-uhm-argh-uh-” she stammered.
“Oh, did I shock you?” Sun wasn’t exactly the most socially aware person, but even he noticed something was up.
“Y-yeah! I’m fine! Just let me think about it!” Cornflower walked off- and promptly bumped into someone. Preparing to apologize, she noticed who exactly it was.
“Rafflesia?” Sun was confused. “Why are you still here?”
“They don’t trust me to protect another city. Not when there’s so little left. So they’re making me, Hydrangea, and Chrysanthemum protect this place.” the pink haired girl answered.
“Who’s this ‘Chrysanthemum’?”
“The strongest Flower to ever live. We’re lucky to have her. She’s not nice, however. I’ll be on my way.” Rafflesia bowed.
“I see. I’ll stay far away from her. Akik- I mean Cornflower, let’s keep walking.” Cornflower stared up at Rafflesia for a moment, then began walking. Rafflesia soon walked after her.
“Do you and Rafflesia have some history?” Sun asked to Cornflower.
“Yes. I helped her out a lot. She’s always kind despite everyone being so mean to her.”
“Oh, I understand. That’s why you like her?”
“I do. I taught her a few tricks, even. Though they are dangerous if overused…”
“What tricks?”
“Spiritual energy tricks. Nothing you would be interested in.”
“Got it.”
When the two got home, Cornflower stepped forward and placed her hand on the doorknob. But she took not another move, standing there in silence.
“...Cornflower? Is everything alr-”
“We need to leave now.” The front wall exploded into a cloud of wood shards and glass, hundreds of dog-sized aliens bursting through to devour every living being in sight. Sun ran. Ran as far as his legs could carry him. He huffed and puffed when he finally found a stop- on top of the nearby hill. He glanced over back to the now ruined house, where Cornflower stood, katana in hand over a pile of the dead.
For a moment, Sun thought that panic was done. Sure, their house was gone, but they could always build it back up again. It didn’t look like it was assimilated.
Then the ground exploded, and from the gaping hole more aliens spewed out.
INTERLUDE
A black cover washed over the town, flattening buildings and crushing those unfortunate souls left out. The horde hissed and writhed, destroying all that they saw and assimilating the ground beneath them.
In the sea of black, two girls cut and cut and cut and cut. They slashed and hacked until all they could see were but mere pieces littered on the ground, and then slashed and hacked some more. Their enemy had no end, so their fighting had no end.
Then, another came. With hair of gold and with eyes of jade, the savior destroyed the horde as if it were nothing. As soon as she came, she left.
INTERLUDE END
The city was ruined. A heap of rubble and bodies was all that remained of Moscow. Even the headquarters was demolished, a gaping hole leading to the basement. The smell of rotting fish and ice cream permeated through the ruins. On the highest hill untouched by the aliens sat the four teenagers.
“...What happened?” Sun asked. The others could give him no answer. “Answer me! Now! What happened!”
“The aliens are attracted to you.” said a voice familiar to Hydrangea and Rafflesia. Sun looked at the floating blonde-haired girl. With but one hand she held a sword as big as her entire body, blood red. “I helped you. Now I will help you again.”
“Wha-what do you mean? There’s nothing wrong with me!”
“That’s what you think. For years and years before you, both Moscow and your city were fine. Free of aliens. The moment you turned 18, everything turned upside down. It is you who are the problem.” Chrysanthemum pointed her blade at Sun. Cornflower leaped in front of the boy, holding her katana tight.
“No! Don’t do this! Father needs him!” Rafflesia joined her, holding her spear high.
“I don’t care if you’re the strongest! You are not killing Sun!”
“It must be done.” Her gaze was cold. No mercy was to be found in her eyes.
Hydrangea scoffed. “Move aside, twin. What Chrysanthemum’s saying is right.” Stepping in front of the three, she revealed her axe. “Don’t be fooled twice, or that’ll be your shame.”
The two sides stared at each other.
Neither of them would back down.
Not here.
Not now.
The tension between them built up until-
“That’s enough!” said a man. All those in the area turned towards him, and gasped. Although his appearance was unremarkable, to the Flowers he gave them a certain impression that demanded their obedience. He stood tall and proud, wearing a business suit.
All of them bowed before him.
“Please! Please have mercy on us, Father!” Hydrangea, unfitting of her, begged.
“I did not know we didn’t have to kill him…” said Chrysanthemum.
“We were just defending Sun…” Cornflower said.
Rafflesia said nothing.
But he dismissed them with a wave. “Why are you squabbling over petty things? You three- Hydrangea, Chrysanthemum, Cornflower- should help evacuate the city. The other Flowers are scattered across what remains of the human domain.”
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“Why...why are you here?” Rafflesia asked, looking up at him with a..strange expression. The man looked down with a cold stare.
“This is your final mission. You will go to the Caucasus mountains and throw Sun into the alien pit there.”
The Flowers gasped, but did nothing. Cornflower knew that opposing the Father would mean her death. Sun, silent from a mixture of shock and surprise, spoke.
“No! You can’t do this to me! I have dreams! Goals! Ambitions! I had a family! Please! Please just let me live!” Tears flowed down his face like water. But his tearful gaze met only hate.
“Enough. Rafflesia, send him. Then, afterwards, report back to me. Do you understand?”
Tearfully, the girl nodded. She picked up the boy and began to walk off with him, despite his kicking and screaming. All Cornflower could do was watch.
“Uhm, Father,” Hydrangea meekly spoke up, “what will happen to Rafflesia after the final mission?”
“She will die.”
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Bitter freezing winds screamed and wailed across the stone and ice of a mountain called Elbrus long ago. Here, no beings could live, not even bears. Even the aliens, who carved their way into the rock, making an abode for them, had lost their resistance to the absolute zero of space, and had succumbed to hibernation. The bitter cold came to one’s bones.
It is here where Rafflesia stood, her hands held high, the unconscious Sun in them. With little hesitation, she threw him into the pit.
And fell along with him.
The two were promptly beset upon by a mass of alien tissue, writhing and purple. The pink haired girl was inedible, as if she were nothing more than a solid rock to the aliens. But the man was a delicious morsel...though they did not consume him. Instead, they reformatted him. Cell by cell. Tissue by tissue. Until he was something more, something better.
In the cries of the wind a scream was heard.
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When all was said and done the city of Moscow was no more. Only a few hundred stragglers remained out of tens of thousands of people. One more bastion of mankind down. Above the ruins of the city stood Cornflower. The other Flowers were since gone.
Alone, Cornflower stood.
Alone, Cornflower thought.
Alone, Cornflower spoke. “Father...isn’t admirable.”
Cornflower had a long history with Father. She knew of his role in the invention of Flowers. She knew he was the figurative father of all Flowers, hence his name. But she, and all others, would never know his real name.
She asked once.
She received no answer. Only a cold stare delivered from a man sitting across a desk. The coward he was, he hadn’t the heart to speak to he- no. No, he was not a coward. He was just trying to do the right thing! As if he was some sort of mind reader, she canceled that thought. The Father is above reproach. He is perfect. He simply is. She repeated her mantra over and over again until something- or someone- tapped her back.
She turned around, ready to attack an enemy- but her eyes caught no enemy.
“Hydrangea?”
“Yeah, it’s me. I just wanted to talk to you about what you were just thinking.” She said, holding her axe. The axe that allowed her to read minds. Cornflower knew this property and hated it. She hated that Hydrangea knew and tormented her with it.
“I...respect the Father. Deeply. Some part of me hates that, but I try to repress it? Okay? Okay?” Cornflower explained.
“...Sure. Sure you do. I don’t deny that. But even your itty-bitty part ruins the rest of it. One roach ruins spaghetti. No matter how much you add, even if you remove it- all of the spaghetti must be thrown away.”
“You...want me to purify my mind? To render all parts of me equally agreeable? That’s not possible. All people- all people have a small part of them that hates the Father. Just like every person has a small part of them that wants to kill. To destroy. That must be restrained.”
“Hehehe...you’re so broken you don’t even know the truth.” Hydrangea leaned into Cornflower’s face. “Broken people need fixing. Go to the Father and ask him to forgive you. Then you will be washed of your sin.”
From any other woman’s words, she wouldn’t have listened. But Hydrangea was trustworthy. And scary. Without much effort, Cornflower bowed and began her journey to the Father.
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Sun was in the middle of a journey back to Moscow- or what remained of it- for one purpose.
A purpose he couldn’t remember. Only that it was important to him. He could not even remember the name of the girl he dragged along with him. Only that she was dear to him.
It took him three days to get back to Moscow. Three days from Moscow, and three days back to it. Two minutes until, wandering through the city, he encountered Hydrangea. The blue haired girl shouted at him to state his purpose.
Then he remembered.
“I want to go back home. That’s all.”
“Demon!” Hydrangea shouted as she swung her axe at him- only for it to bounce off harmlessly.
“Why are you attacking me?” He asked genuinely. He was...the same as he ever was. Right? Right?
The blue haired girl kicked Sun through what remained of a building, smashing it into thousands of wood splinters. Sun slammed against a concrete pillar and shattered that too. He was driven into a hill, kicking up tonnes of dirt into the air, which blackened the sky.
From this, he emerged almost unharmed aside from a light bruise on his chest. Rafflesia had slipped out of his hands somewhere. He had to find her. Through the rubble he trudged until he found her, awakening, by a shredded wall. He helped her to her feet and stood there as she screamed.
“Rafflesia! Rafflesia!” Hydrangea leaped in between the two teenagers, tossing Sun aside. The blue haired girl put a hand on her twin. “Are you alright?”
“Wh-who is that?” She pointed at Sun. He didn’t understand. He was okay. He was fine. As he brushed the dust off, his eye caught a glimpse of something. A silver plate, polished to the utmost level. His eyes went back to the plate.
Meeting him was a...strange sight. A man with ivory pale skin, jet black hair, and red crucifixes tattooed around his eyes. It must have been an interesting painting. It even looks like a mirror! How could it last this long. He tried to tear the painting- only for his hand to appear on the silvery plate.
It was a mirror.
That was him he was looking at.
“Oh…”
Then he screamed.
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Cornflower’s ears perked up. She recognized that yell from anywhere. Breaking the sound barrier, she leaped towards the origin.
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Clang!
Clang!
Clang!
Clang!
Bare hands against metal weaponry. A match unfair in normal circumstances- but we have already passed the realm of normality already. Again and again, Sun instinctively and unskillfully parried Hydrangea’s swings.
Clang!
Clang!
Clang!
“This is impossible! How the hell are you a Flower? Only women are Flowers!” The blue haired girl dispelled the illusion on her weapon and swung full force at the man, embedding him into the ground. He could feel that his fingers were bruised- but nothing more.
“Sorry!” He spurted out as he formed a fist and smashed it into Hydrangea’s solar plexus. He could feel her chest cave in- even though he was holding back. Blood spurted from her mouth.
But that could not stop a Flower. Gritting her teeth, she pulled back her ax- and went for a sideways swing, faster than the eye could see. It cut into-but not through!- Sun’s side, drawing sickly green blood.
“You don’t even bleed like a human! Die now!” She turned her ax upwards, carving deeper and deeper into his flesh. He did not fight back. He just stared. Stared right until the flat of Rafflesia’s spearhead smashed into the back of Hydrangea’s skull, drawing her attention. Then, he took his chance. He went for a right straight (as his left arm was cut deeply), sending her flying back. Her ax still attached, he pulled it out. A dumb decision? For a normal human, yes. But as he felt his body mend back together, it solidified in his mind that he was no longer a man.
Rafflesia stared at him, spear in hand, trembling. He had to do something. “Please…put your weapon down. I just want to go back home. Is that too much for me to ask?”
“You...you can come back. The Father wanted this. Let’s take you to him.” She put down the spear and held out her hand. Sun took it.
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The father was high and mighty. But in comparison to the newly mutated Sun he looked fragile.
“It appears phase 2 is complete.” the Father said when he saw Sun. The other Flowers bowed, but he did not. The Father forgave it. He was new. “Sun, I give you a new name. It will not be of any flower on this world or any other in the universe. Your name shall be Cain.”
“Cain?” Sun- now Cain- looked confused. “You mean the character from the Old Testament of the Bible?”
“The very same. You are the First Murderer of the Flowers. All those that oppose you will be struck back seven fold. That is what you are. That is what you already were.”
“H...how?” Only confusion found a home in Cain’s mind. “I...I’m a Flower?”
“All will be explained in due time. Training will begin tomorrow.” Father looked towards Chrysanthemum. “The strongest Flower will be your mentor. Chrysanthemum, lead him to the dojo.”
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The dojo was made out of stone rather wood as Cain expected. The largest room, the training room, was easily the largest room Cain had ever seen in his life. It was more than enough room to support combat between two Flowers.
Chrysanthemum spoke up. “So, I’ll start. Have you ever wielded a weapon in your life before?”
“No. I was hoping you’d explain what just happened to me.”
“That comes later.” Chrysanthemum walked over to the weapons rack and unhooked a glaive from the wall. “This is just a mundane practice weapon. With your level of inexperience, it is the perfect weapon for you.” She tossed it at Cain. He caught it perfectly with one hand.
“Am I supposed to practice forms with this?” The weapon felt light and fragile in his hands.
“No. You’re going to spar with me.” She pulled a sword from the rack and pointed it at Cain. “The best way to learn is through experience.”
“If that is what you want…” Cain swung and-
found himself on the ground, face first in a crater.
“Too slow. Try again.” Cain got up, wiping his bloody nose, and decided to try again.
One hour passed.
Cain swung and swung and swung...and the girl deflected, dodged, or parried his blows and followed up with a brutal counter. By the end of it, he was covered in bruises and cuts, the ground beneath him dyed in green.
Cain, huffing and panting, raised his hand. “Okay, that’s enough. Let’s...let’s stop now.”
“Giving up?” Chrysanthemum asked with a demeaning tone. She hadn’t even broken a sweat.
“Yeah. It’s like you said. I’ve never wielded a weapon before.” Cain got up with little struggle, feeling that his wounds were already healing. “We should take a break.”
“Fine.”
As Cain sat on the bench with Chrysanthemum, he asked a question. “...What did Father mean by renaming me Cain?”
“Have you ever heard of Jung?” Chrysanthemum responded, looking directly into Cain’s eyes. “The famous 20th century philosopher who made a theory of mind.”
“Him? What does he have to do with it?”
“He developed a theory of Archetypes, or Symbols. For instance...the Symbol of a dragon, a large serpent creature, slain by another Symbol, a powerful hero who often wields a supernatural sword.”
“And...Cain is another Symbol, right? The Symbol of the first murderer? Someone who has reached the apex of killing?”
“Yes. And out of all Symbols are things Incarnations, and the Incarnations and the roles of those Symbols are Narratives built. In Judaic- and later Greek influenced- mythology, Cain exists as allegory of conflict between Judaic pastoralists and later farmers. Being that the Jews were a highly religious people, they decided to turn this conflict into a person called Cain that came after the fall of man. His murder was a sign of that fall, and a sign of things to come. Judaic mythology is a story of man’s fall from God and the eventual rediscovery of his relationship with God through an piece of Himself He sent. That is the Narrative that rules- or ruled- most of mankind.”
“Incarnations- those are different interpretations of Symbols, yeah? Heracles, Gilgamesh, Karna, and Arjuna are the same variation on the demigod archetype. Can Incarnations be recontextualized?”
“Yes. Think of how the Incarnation of the Fertility God, Baal, a Symbol of its own, was demonized and turned into a horrific beast in Judaic-Greek mythology. Narratives are deeply important and shape the way we look at the world. Because the Father called you Cain, you are put into the Narrative supposed by the Jews. You will probably kill people.”
“But I don’t want to.”
“He knows. But the Father knows how to manipulate that Narrative. Judaic mythology is a dead mythology, or near it. Like the last remnants of Greco-Roman mythology. Because of that and the raising secularization of the world starting in the 19th century, he can easily reinterpret the myth.”
“How has he done so?”
“Other than that, I cannot say. It is a secret.”
Cain sighed. He was dragged from his ordinary life into a world of aliens and frantic death. No one would help him. Not Rafflesia. Not Hydrangea. Not Chrysanthemum. Not Akiko. And not the Father either. He would have to go through this himself. He groaned. “Secrets this, secrets that! Fuck! Where’s the bedroom, this break got extended another eight hours!”
“The bedroom is on the second floor to your left.” Chrysanthemum responded in a calm tone. “If you raise your voice like that to the Father, he won’t be as kind as I am.”
“Hmph.” Cain got up and left.
Alone, Chrysanthemum mumbled to herself. “The Second Phase is mid way.”