“Why do you draw breath?” Chrysanthemum asked a pointed question. To that, Rafflesia could only laugh.
“Because I can. Because there is nothing greater than life than bringing joy to someone. And I can tell...you want me dead. By your own hands.”
“...You are nothing more than a fool.” Chrysanthemum pointed her atom-breaking blade at the girl’s neck. “You will die now.” She thrusted- and hit nothing. Then a smashing pain in her jaw. Just from that, she was sent flying away. Of course, she hit nothing in her path, and stopped by her own will. She put a hand up to her chin. Blood.
“You drew blood!” shouted the Strongest. The Weakest giggled.
“I just had to increase the amount of life force I emanate. Should be easy enough. But you and the others never figured it out…”
“Because it’s impossible.” Chrysanthemum spat back.
“Of course you think it is! That’s because yer’re dumb.” Another hit- this time to the solar plexus. Chrysanthemum doubled over for air, allowing Rafflesia to smash her heel into the back of her skull. Throbbing pain surged through her body as she was flung everywhere by Rafflesia’s repeated attacks. Wherever she was thrown, Rafflesia came, and wherever Rafflesia came, she was hit. Like a pinball.
Humilating.
Unbecoming.
Disgusting.
Degenerate.
“NO! I MUST NOT ALLOW IT!” With a scream, she pushed away Rafflesia. Then she beset upon her a flurry of blows. All of them struck true, and yet- they did not cut her target to pieces. Like the tanks she so often practiced on, they cut into the chobham armor, but not through.
“Why! Why are you so durable! Why do you dare resist my blade!”
“Because I still live.” Rafflesia finally revealed her spear. From where? Nowhere. And in the middle of nowhere did she reveal her final attack. The metallic leaves unfurled, revealing a razor-sharp blade. “Ultimate Purger…Lotus Blast!”
From the blade blasted forth a tide of death. Plasma, hotter than the sun’s core. Aimed right for Chrysanthemum. It enveloped her entirely. It was a strike from which no one could return.
And yet.
And yet.
And yet-
She remained. After the plasma had dissipated, and the smoke had cleared, there was Chrysanthemum. Bleeding. Singed. But still alive. And furious.
“You ant! How dare you scratch the hide of a mighty dragon! How dare you! How dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you how dare you”
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She had gone mad with pain. Her madness had consumed her entirely. She let it build up within her- and burst from within. She smashed and smashed and smashed and smashed Rafflesia’s face into a gooey pulp. Then, she picked her up by the leg and slammed her on the ground and the walls. They were not there before, but that didn’t matter- she willed them into being. She grabbed what remained of her opponent’s face and grinded it across the wall, running and running within the nothingness until she found Something- thousands of floating Flowers, each contained within a red sphere.
She didn’t care. She continued smashing and smashing and smashing and smashing and…what...what was that noise? That noise that bothered her so! It was like an ant crawling in her ear. What was it?
“You’re doing great! Thank you!”
Wha…
“Don’t stop! Keep going! You’re wonderful!” said the woman through broken bones and smashed flesh. She said between coughs of blood. She said as she struggled to breath.
It boggled her. She didn’t die...and she complimented the person trying to kill her. What?
It wasn’t possible. Simply not possible. Every time she defeated her opponent in a sparring match, they cursed her or refused to believe they could lose. She was the Breaker of Hopes and Dreams, the Great Humbler, the Strongest Above Heaven and Earth. But Rafflesia’s Dreams were not Broken. Her Hopes remained Whole. Her Will remained Unhumbled. She was the Strongest, but...if the Weakest can challenge her, in body and spirit, then is she really the Strongest?
She isn’t.
And that is what broke her. Knees on the ground, hands on her face, crying. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”
“Don’t be sorry! Just keep going! Keep beating my face in! And then kill yourself! You’ll surely win the Throne!”
“Noooo! I’m sorry! I’m sorry for hitting you! I’m sorry for belittling you! Please forgive me!”
Unbecoming.
Unfitting.
A peacock wallowing in mud.
A lion dressed up in a tuxedo.
The sun wearing a top hat.
Absurdity. Pure, pure absurdity. Chrysanthemum knew this. She couldn’t bring herself to harm a single cell of that girl’s existence any more.
“No. No. No.”
The Father egged her on. Niggled at her brain. But she ignored him. He was just a father to her now, and not a good one. She reviewed her life...and found it lacking.
The only punishment for a demon like her was death. She turned her atom-cutting blade against herself- and could not thrust.
Rafflesia had stopped her. Her face had healed to the point where it sort of looked like a real human face. “Don’t. You’ll empower the Father. As the winner, you should go to the Throne.”
“I can’t!”
“Yes you can. The path is half-formed, but a half-beaten path is still traversable. Go on.”
She was right. And Chrysanthemum knew it.
With a heavy heart, she stands and walks through the aisles of hovering women. She walks and she walks for
-years-
-decades-
-centuries-
-millennia
-eons-
-kalpa-
-thousands of kalpa-
-an eternity-
wandering in nothingness. She has long since passed by the Flowers. She has long since forgotten her name. Her identity. Why she is here. Why she lives. She is nothing.
When she came across the glory of the Throne, golden and mighty, perfectly sublime, perfectly transcendent, far above mortal words...she felt nothing. She only asked of it one question.
“What can I do?”
The Throne did not speak. But it answered.
RULE
DOMINATE
CONTROL
SUBVERT
EXPAND
CRUSH
KILL
DESTROY
An infinity of possibilities forced themselves within her mind.
She felt nothing. It was not for her. It was not for anyone. With nary a word, the girl turned around and walked back.
----------------------------------------
Surrounded by nothing but death, the children huddled together, fearing for their lives. Any second now, the invisible hand of death would take them all- in the form of the extraterrestrial monstrosity that had so plagued this world.
But...
But it never came. The aliens turned back and marched all the way over the horizon, leaving the children confused.
Soldiers across battlefields stared, puzzled, as their once unstoppable enemy had turned heel and ran.
In the hives, they went. Then, they took off from the surface and left the reaches of this planet's gravity, taking with them their corrupting influence. In a few hours, they had left the Earth as it was before the invasion.
For without the Father there is no point in this world.
Humanity, confused, dazed, and in denial that their greatest enemy had apparently given up, did not know what to do.