And here we have my other entry for resbang this year! My artist for this one is the incredible AlmanacComics, whose art can be seen on his tumblr at /post/155615724386/resbang-2016-coming-to-terms-with-the-end-of-the. Make sure you go check it out, because it is wonderful.

Huge thanks also go to my betas, Flurrin and Noah, for taking a mess of half-formed ideas and shaping it into something coherent.

For meisters at the DWMA, choosing a weapon was an involved process. While the initial selection was often a snap decision, figuring out if someone could actually match your soul was much harder. It generally involved lengthy emotional conversations, a trial period, and terrible online quizzes "guaranteed" to determine compatibility.

None of this was an option for Crona. The day they met their weapon, they hadn't even known what was going on.

They were four or five, they thought, though no one had bothered to keep track. It had been a day or two since their mother had last checked on them, and they were getting really hungry. They knew better than to make any noise that might distract her, though. She didn't like being disturbed when she was in her laboratory.

When their mother did come to see them, they were so excited they nearly forgot the rule about speaking out of turn. They opened their mouth to greet her, then shut it again hastily. Strangely, their mother didn't comment on their near disobedience. She seemed almost happy, though not with them. "Today is a very important day for you, Crona," she said. "Are you ready?"

Crona didn't feel very ready. They were still hungry, and they weren't sure they could deal with this mysterious important thing on an empty stomach. But they knew better than to argue, so all they said was, "Yes, Lady Medusa."

"Good. Follow me, and try not to break anything," their mother said.

She walked out of the room briskly, leaving Crona struggling to keep up. The weak light of the torches meant that if they got too far behind, they'd lose her, so they stayed as close to her as they two of them walked in silence for an unmeasured period of time. Crona's eyes gradually adjusted, but the hallways were labyrinthine and they still had no idea where they were. A part of them hoped it was near the kitchen, but they tried to ignore it.

Their mother finally stopped in front of a door. As far as Crona was concerned, it looked the same as all the other doors they'd passed. Then their mother started whispering to it, and it instantly took on an aura of malice. Whatever was behind that door, Crona wanted to be as far away from it as possible.

Naturally, their mother took that moment to go through the door, giving them no choice but to follow her. The room beyond was well lit, which meant that they could see every disquieting detail. The walls were lined with shelves containing both books and jars of mysterious substances. Crona thought they could see an eyeball in one of the jars, making them thankful they didn't know what was in the others.

A cauldron was shoved up against the far wall, beside a desk which was covered in papers. Above it, a strange design was painted on the wall.

What really drew Crona's attention, though, was the bed in the middle of the room. Like their own bed, it almost looked more like a table. Unlike their bed, there were straps across the top. Its surface was scrupulously clean. They weren't sure if that was a good sign or not.

Next to the bed were two vials as large as Crona, one on each side. One was filled with a strange black liquid, while the other was empty. Each had a thin tube which led out of it, though Crona couldn't see the other end of either. The black liquid swirled mesmerizingly, and they had trouble tearing their gaze away.

Their mother was clearly used to room's contents, though, as she strode confidently to the bed. Crona hesitated for a moment before following her.

"This is it. This is the moment we've been waiting for," she said. She turned to Crona and smiled, though it was far from reassuring. "If this goes wrong, you'll just be another failed experiment, and you know what I do with those. So do try not to mess it up, okay?"

Crona swallowed. "Yes, Lady Medusa."

She nodded toward the bed. "Shall we get started?"

Crona climbed onto the bed obediently, not moving even when their mother fastened the straps around them. They watched as she produced a syringe. They lay completely still as the world dissolved around them, their fear and hunger fading into unconsciousness.

When they woke up again, they were alone in their room. It was the usual state of things, but something felt off. Nothing was immediately obvious, but their body felt somehow wrong.

They sat up and tried to figure out what it was. After a moment, they realized: something under their skin was moving.

Crona screamed before they could stop themself. Their mother would be mad, and the thought made them feel worse, but it was all just too much for that moment.

They felt a surge of dizziness, and then something erupted from their back. It wasn't painful, quite, but the extra weight at their back nearly made them topple over.

"Keep it down, will you?" an unfamiliar voice snapped from behind them.

Their mouth clicked shut automatically. They didn't know who was speaking, but they knew it was always best to do as you were told. They considered twisting to see where the voice was coming from and what the strange feeling had been, but with everything else happening they weren't sure they could deal with that knowledge. "I'm sorry," they said instead.

"Hmmph. Am I really going to be stuck with someone like you?" the voice said.

Crona resisted the urge to apologize again, though they weren't sure what they were apologizing for. There was a far more pressing question, after all. "Ummm… Who are you?" they asked.

"I'm the Demon Sword, Ragnarok!" the voice said. It sounded proud and expectant, as if it expected Crona to recognize the name.

They didn't, of course. "Nice to meet you, Ragnarok," they said. "I'm Crona."

"That's it? No fear, or awe or anything? I expected a little trembling, you know!"

Crona couldn't seem to do anything right today. Then again, they were kind of used to that. "I'm sorry," they said. "I could try to scream again if you want?"

There was a sigh. "There's no point,you've already taken the fun out of it," the voice said. "But the least you can do is shake my hand!"

The speaker leaned forward to reveal a body only mostly humanoid. He was black and almost shiny, while his eyes were pure white and had no sockets, bulging directly from his head. He seemed to be wearing gloves, as his hands were white, though given the texture of his skin Crona couldn't be sure. Spikes stuck out of his body seemingly at random.

Most disturbingly, however, he didn't have legs. His torso emerged directly from Crona's back.

Faced with such a grotesque sight, Crona did the only thing they could think to do: they started screaming again.

"Ugh, this again? That's what I get for being polite," Ragnarok said. "Let me know when you've stopped being this annoying."

The dizziness returned for a moment, and then Crona was once again alone.