This is my first non-PJO fanfic. Apologies in advance if its not up to par with the fandom. Reviews are appreciated. Anyway thanks for reading! ~VCRx
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Even before her last breath, Megan knew she was going to lose control. She blinked away the salty tears of searing pain that blinded her. The staticy echoes that deafened the fearful shouts and gunfire around her. Against her will – blood gurgled, climbing up her throat and eroding itself into her lungs. Her body stung with absolute pain, as she laid there unmoving, filled with broken bones, bruises and various degrees of burns.
The pain itself wasn't something new. So wasn't the experience.
The simple novelty that she was dying?
She's had the unfortunate luck of experiencing it before, many, many times before. This wasn't some over-exaggeration. She was laying there, dying. She'd died many times before. It was part of her power. She could be reborn. She knew she wasn't going to be saved. At least – not by anyone else. Only her powers could - even though there were going to be devastating consequences.
Megan strained as she held back what was her main focus.
The fears and rage that filled the shadows of her mind.
Megan sobbed silently, knowing the monster within her was wrestling for control.
And it was going to succeed.
She laid there, a silent piece, within a battlefield of reckoners and city guards. The shouts for the other side to surrender. Bullets, sprayed through the air. Lasers blasted and debris ricocheted around her. She could only lay there, unmoving. Struggling to fight against the burrowing rampages of anger and destruction that crawled within her. The encroaching darkness – void of all sympathy and kindness battled to win her mind. She fought the urge to let go.
If the demon inside her awoke before she faded, there would be devastation for sure.
And even though what happened after she was gone was no concern of her's….
The mission had failed. She'd failed Steelheart. She'd failed because she'd fallen for what could be her worse enemy. Someone who would shoot her on sight if he knew who she truly was.
The burning sense of disappointment and self-shame rippled across her, like a wave of torment. But for a moment, the blurs of light refocused, and the loud static in her ears ended.
David was over her, his back towards her fallen, broken and bleeding form, defending her from otherwise faster death. The idiot shouted crazy pleas in his coms for reinforcement. For medical help quickly as she laid there dying. He didn't know she could reincarnate. If he did, he'd surely kill her for sure. He'd find a way to put her down. Permanently.
David had no sympathy, when it came to ending the lives of Epics.
Despite the barrage of suppressing fire directed at him, he turned toward her in worry and met her eyes.
His face, pallor. Full of fear, and determination.
"I'm not leaving her!" he said to whoever was on the other side of his headset. At least, she thought he said that.
'Knees,' she thought giddily, causing her concentration to wane. That was all that the beast within needed. Her defenses fell, and her powers overtook her, crashing and engulfing her soul.
'I'm so sorry Knees,' she breathed for air, 'please forgive me.'
Only she gave no sound.
Then, nothingness crashed down onto her.
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If someone were to ask you, 'What do you picture when I say to picture 'nothing,'' what would you picture? Or to rephrase, 'what do you think nothingness – would look like?'
For many, a simple blank whiteness, like a canvas yet to be exploited fills the mind. Others, will say they see an infinite abyss of pitch black darkness.
The question, itself, is a contradiction. If something was, well, truly nothing, wouldn't there be no picture – no sight – of it at all? It's a profound concept to grasp, since human senses have never seen nothingness. White is light, and black, well, that's the lack of light, but that is still something.
But even so, nothingness does have an appearance. Although, it is hard to describe whether she could actually see it in the first place.
That, was what Megan Tarash was thinking, as her soul laid in the blankness abyss of baby blue teal.
Yes, the color was a surprise to her too, when she first died. An infinite expanse – of teal. Wasn't what she had been expecting either. Just… teal. Your sight felt fixated yet influx at the same time. There were no true senses in the between. The body had died, and with it, the ordinary senses that everyone had lived to know. Your eyes, ears, nose, nerves… all faded away in whatever scene you had escaped the world from.
No sense of movement. Nothing in the nothingness that gave perception a real chance at understand what it saw. Time ticked at a snail's pace. Only there was a distinct lack of snails… and ticking. Nothing was nothing.
But even so, Megan knew her re-emergence in the world was bound to come. She hadn't died to her sole weakness. And she had that irrational sense – a chill on the back of her non-existing neck.
Nevertheless, she knew she was about to be knocked back into the world. A huge reset that would leave her without control. Like a computer about to complete a reset, but still containing a virus before it reinstalled its malware protection. The moment she stepped back into the world, her memories would be fogged; her alter ego in charge.
But she wouldn't be gone. It would take time, but eventually, she'd remember who–
Who…. Who?
'What was I thinking about?'
Screeching sounds broke the endless silence, and without thought, the demon within her awoken.
Firefight was back.