The darkness of the rift reaches for Medusa, curling in on itself in greedy coils, simultaneously dense as obsidian and translucent as shadow. In the places where the rift regularly opens and recloses, Earth is visible, only a blurred outline, though it had been enough to fool several witches into wandering into the rift in the beginning. Ghosts of their screams still echo occasionally.
Many other things breathe and sigh from within the rift-beings and monsters that have no names and brim with a power even more ancient than the witches'. The rift only appears to be a few feet wide but Medusa's experiments, along with the fates of the witches that attempted to cross the rift, have proven otherwise.
"I don't want to do this." Crona's voice breaks as they speak, accompanied by a small sniff.
Medusa continues to survey the rift; silence is just as much a punishment for Crona as the other methods she uses. The weight of a witch's soul, laden with human souls, is too much to cross the rift, although lesser beasts and the human souls who sometimes escape are able to enter and move across the rift with no trouble.
"You truly think this will work."
She does not turn at Arachne's voice but a smug smile tugs on the corner of her mouth. "So you accept, then?"
"I would not go that far." The soft whisper of her footsteps cease as Arachne stops somewhere behind Medusa. "Watching you fail has always been a favorite pastime of mine."
"I could say the same." She turns then, spying the trio of spiders beside Arachne. Their presence speaks more than her words and Medusa's mouth twists into a full-blown smirk. "Losing your kishin soul all those months ago was rather unfortunate. And it was quite the loss that you suffered just a few weeks ago."
Arachne meets her taunt with a bored, half-lidded gaze. "I do not mourn a simple soul gatherer."
"But he was your favorite, yes?" Medusa tilts her head to one side, lifting her hand to examine her nails. "You certainly took your time in releasing him when you first met."
A quiet venom runs through Arachne's words. "Get your snakes away from me."
"Only a precaution, sister." She calls back the snakes woven out of darkness with a flick of her fingers. "I would not take kindly to being nearly killed twice, even if it is by family."
A cold smile plays on Arachne's lips. "You should know better than to crawl onto a spider's web, especially if it is to steal."
"I was merely curious about your new demon. He wouldn't have come with me anyway." One snake drapes itself on Medusa's shoulders, dark as pitch save for the long white arrow running down from its head to its tail. She strokes the point of the arrow. "You've made him quite attached to you. Puppetlike, even."
Arachne lifts her shoulders in a delicate shrug. "Precautions."
"One that won't help you when the times comes that you send him to Earth."
"If." Her voice stays cool but Arachne's eyes carry a spark of warning. "I do not offer my help for nothing nor will I salvage anyone's failure."
"And here I thought you were being a loving sister." Medusa's teeth show slightly in her smile as she withdraws something from her sleeve and tosses it onto the ground where it lands with a metallic clang in front of Arachne. "A gesture of goodwill."
Disgust fills Arachne's voice as she toes the sensor away from her. "What is this?"
Medusa ignores the small yelp Crona gives as the sensor rolls towards them. "You were being spied on."
Her eyes narrow. "By who?"
"Humans."
Even as her eyes widen in disbelief, the ice in Arachne's expression remains. "If you wanted a fool to swallow your lies, you chose poorly."
"Out of the many things you are, dear sister, a fool is not one of them," purrs Medusa. She arches an eyebrow in a challenge. "Though you are more than free to walk away now."
Arachne doesn't move, the expression on her face unchanging, though she flicks her gaze towards Crona. "And this machine is the reason for all of this?"
"One of them," answers Medusa. "Though I do admit it piques my curiosity the most."
Arachne makes an amused noise in her throat. "And my spiders?"
"Even though we've been working on it, Crona takes some time to warm up occasionally." Medusa looks at Crona, who recoils at the mention of their name. "It would be unfortunate for that to happen while they cross the rift."
Arachne's expression flickers. "The rift doesn't allow witches to cross even when it opens," she says. "And Crona is your child."
"But born with a human soul," Medusa replies. "Inconvenient at times but it has proven its use."
"Such as?"
Medusa addresses Crona for the first time since they arrived. "Show me."
Crona rises up from where they were crouched on the ground, hand nervously wrapping around their wrist. Their throat bobs up and down as they look from Medusa to Arachne and back again. "Do I-"
"Crona."
"Okay, okay." The words tumble out of Crona's mouth as their hands creep to their head, fingers winding in their hair. "I'll do it."
They are still for a few moments, silence wrapping around them like a shroud; Medusa lifts her hand when Arachne opens her mouth and then a crack rends the air, swallowing Crona's cry as their back splits open.
Disgust ripples across Arachne's face as wings of onyx erupt from Crona, seizing the air and taking shape as though they were alive. Crona slumps forward once the transformation finishes, though their wings keep them from crumpling to the ground.
Medusa turns to Arachne. "Would you like to see more?"
Arachne's expression of distaste deepens as she dips her head to her spiders. "If my spiders come across my kishin soul, they will leave to bring it back," she warns as they move forward to join Crona.
"Naturally." Medusa moves to Crona, whose gaze is rooted on the ground.
She waits until she is standing in front of them to speak. Her voice comes out in a murmur, almost gentle. "Look at me."
Crona does not fight her orders this time, quietly raising their head to meet her stare. They flinch as Medusa's finger grazes their cheek, but even as they tremble underneath her hand, Crona leans into her touch.
Medusa presses a nail lightly against Crona's skin. "Make me proud."
