There's an old Chinese saying: a dog cannot change its ways of eating dung. And now, I find it applying to me.
It's been four months since I last updated, and I have absolutely no excuse. Sure, I've been busy, who isn't? But I had plenty of spare time to write, if I wanted to, and I haven't been doing that. So I owe all of you readers an apology.
People who know my update schedule in the past (they probably don't exist in the first place, cuz who follows a novice writer from Mortal Kombat to Guilty Gear?) know that long delays like this is pretty par for the course, but I really wanted to adhere for a stricter schedule for this story, and I've absolutely failed that.
In the future, I will definitely stick to a one chapter per month deal.
Chapter 9
Millia is used to silence. In fact, she prefers it. But this...
…This is just awkward.
The former assassin can feel Jam's uncomfortable gaze on her back. The cook seems to have something she wants to say, but doesn't know how to bring it up. The hazel-eyed bounty hunter's unease is starting to get on the blonde's nerves.
"What?" Millia asks when she finally meets the Chinese woman's eyes. Jam looks away hurriedly.
"Ah...You seemed to know that guy back there pretty well," answers the chef after a long pause.
"Unfortunately," is Millia's brusque response.
"But you don't get along."
"Not at all. What's your point?"
"He tried to kill you! Doesn't that bother you at all?"
"I was an assassin. Why should it? Besides, ever since I left the Guild, I accepted the fact that death would pursue me to the ends of the earth."
Jam is quiet for a few heartbeats, and then protests weakly: "But he's your friend! Why—"
"Friend?" Millia snarls, struggling to not slam her fist into a wall in anger. "Are you out of your mind?"
The brunette flinches from the venom in her voice. "Well...it's just what he said. It sounded like he admired you."
The blonde is actually a bit taken aback by those words. Is that what Venom sounded like to an outsider? "He never admired me. He envied me and resented me because of my position. He wanted to be the one closest to Zato instead of me. Even now, he obsesses over the dead man, and that fanaticism drives him. But there's hope for him; the object of his infatuation is dead and gone, and if he can realize that, he can choose his own path before his obsession consumes him the way it consumed the one before him."
Jam, realizing that the words coming out of Millia's mouth are far beyond her understanding, wisely chooses to keep her lips sealed. By this point the two of them have reached the main road. There's no police, no encirclement, no barrier. A light (by Chinese standards) crowd once again fills the streets. Millia has heard that the East Asian law enforcement was lax, but this exceeds her expectations.
"This way," says Jam as she heads towards the outside of the city.
The trek to their destination is also spent in relative silence. Millia expected Jam to at least attempt to make conversation, but it appears the events that transpired earlier this evening has subdued the normally perky cook.
Jam's restaurant (or at least, what remains of it) is right under the walls of the city. The tall, concrete, multi-tiered barrier towers over the low structures filling the city proper. The wall's several levels are crowded with small, dingy wooden huts built like ivy on a tree. Below the wall is a canal which flows besides the wall. Jam's lot is situated right by the water's edge.
There are a couple of buildings in the vicinity, mostly small houses, with the only exception being what appears to be a large hotel a few blocks down. The reason for this desertedness in such a space-starved city is the giant body of an earth-green dragon-like Gear that lies at the back of Jam's property. The superstitious attitude of the residents must drive people away. Why no one has bothered moving the Gear is a question that doesn't bother Millia. Speaking of Jam's property, the chef has managed to rebuild a little wooden booth with a couple of signs with big Chinese characters hung up. Several tables and stools are scattered around the mostly barren lot as well.
Reclining at one of the tables with her feet resting on the furniture is a woman dressed in red. A russet vest barely covers the important areas of her (very prominent) chest while a tight corset binds her torso and groin. She wears tall red boots that go up to her thighs. Her black hair is cut short and an aquamarine eye peeks out from under the wide brim of a crimson witch's hat with a skull design on it. A cyan electric guitar is propped against the table her feet rest on.
"Oh, you're back!" exclaims the woman in mock surprise. Her voice drips with lasciviousness and seduction, and the sound of it sets Millia's nape hairs on edge. "How's the bounty hunting coming along?"
"You!" shouts Jam, anger and accusation coloring her tone (although the pitch of the chef's voice makes it hard for Millia to take her seriously). "You thought you could pull one over on me, didn't you?"
"You finally figured it out, huh?" the red guitarist snorts. "Stupid cook! You stupid bugs should just crush each other! Now all I have to do is gather them up and—" The mysterious musician freezes as she catches sight of Millia. "Oh, but I see you've done even my job of gathering them up for me."
"Enough talking! You're going to pay for trying to fool me!"
Jam advances with fighting intent pouring out of her. Millia decides to hang back and let the Chinese woman fight one-on-one. Even if this crimson-clad woman is the reason why Jam dragged the blonde all the way to China, it turned out to be a good thing.
"Hold up playaz~" purrs the red musician with one hand raised up. "I see you went through all the trouble of bringing a partner, so how about this? Tonight, our main event is going to be a tag team match! Oh, dearest pet, I've found a nice body for you~"
"It's about time you held up your end of the agreement you slave driving woman," This voice! It's...
The shadow of the woman cast long and far by the rays of the setting sun seems to darken before a figure emerges from the darkness. Long, straw blond hair rises from the ground first, followed by a red bandanna wrapped over the eyes. A black belt is tied over the scarlet fabric, probably for style rather than necessity. Fitting tightly around his neck is a dark leather choker. A skintight, sleeveless black bodysuit covers his torso. He wears ebony fingerless gloves that goes up to his biceps. His pants are the same color as the rest of his clothing and also extremely formfitting, showing off his muscular build to the world. His boots are black as well. On his entire body, only two places with color stand out: the red lacings of his boots and the gold buckle on his sable leather belt.
Eternity would not be long enough for Millia to forget this man. He is the reason why the former assassin hasn't been able to sleep well in a month, the reason why she hasn't been able to escape this world of death and fighting yet. Zato-1, the former leader of the Assassin's Guild. Or rather, Zato-1's body. Now, the Forbidden Beast he traded his eyesight for has also claimed his body and goes by the name of Eddie. Millia thought she would be better prepared for this moment after Ky had revealed Eddie still lives, but her reaction now is the same as that time. Her throat constricts and her mind is blank. She's close to hyperventilating. Hatred and killer instinct wells up from her stomach.
The Beast, as if perceiving the Russian's thoughts, swivels his head so his ruined gaze rests on her. "Ho? If this was any other time, I'd appreciate you bringing me a toy, but she is just a regular human. I cannot use her." Eddie's voice is different from Zato's, though they share the same pharynx. His voice seems to reverberate on nothing but empty air and echoes into her body, drawing out all sorts of dark emotions. Millia can feel her hackles rise just by listening to the Beast speak.
"Oh, but she's not a regular human," replies the woman tartly. "She's accepted a Beast as well. Her body is probably just primed and waiting for you."
"Hm...an interesting point. Very well, I shall accept this offering." Clouds of darkness start to swirl around his feet as the possessed corpse saunters forwards.
Perhaps merely knowing in her mind and seeing with her eyes is different, but Millia is over her initial shock now. Ice cold focus grips her and sharpens her senses.
"He's mine. Don't interfere." Whispers Millia harshly as she strides past Jam. The Chinese cook responds in protest, but the ex-assassin tunes her out.
"A fair day to you, my beautiful princess," mocks Eddie with an exaggerated bow as the Russian approaches him. A derisive smirk is plastered on his face, and in that moment, his resemblance to Zato is so striking that Millia is thrown back to a time seven years ago.
"Guwah! Gwaaaaaagh!"
The shadows that formed a sword around Zato's body evaporate into smoke, and he surveys his victims. The super soldiers, though severed in two, still writhe and crawl towards them with their arms. The leader of the assassins morphs a leg into a black spike and stomps on one of the soldiers' head, impaling him and ending his life instantly.
"Heh, they are willing to endure great pain, but their body is human flesh and cannot exceed its limits!"
That time was the first time Millia noticed it, but Zato always smiled like that whenever he was inflicting pain, whether physical or emotional. And now, the same smile is on the face before her, and the same fear and mistrust the blonde felt the first time she saw that smile she feels once again.
"Quit smiling at me like that," growls Millia as her golden hair forms a side ponytail and starts swaying besides her.
"Don't be so cold, my fair angel. You should be smiling too. For today, you get to become part of something greater than yourself. All you have to do is GIVE ME YOUR BODY!"
With that, the manifestation of shadow leaps at Millia like a feral creature. Darkness encases the corpse's body, forming a chitinous armor around him.
Although Millia's mind is still unfocused, her body is not. Her legs move out of survival instinct and years of training, launching Millia out of harm's way. Eddie slams down on where the Russian was, his claws scoring deep rents in the earth. In a flash, the dead assassin swipes out with his talons. By now, however, the reality of the fight has set in and Millia's assassin training kicks in, allowing her to bury her emotions to concentrate on surviving. She parries Eddie's strike with a shield of golden locks, barely avoiding getting her eyes gouged out.
The possessed carcass dashes forward while lashing out in wild strokes with his claws. It is all Millia can do to fend off his ferocious assault. Each blow forces the blonde back a step. This wouldn't be a problem if Eddie isn't also circling slightly to the side with every swipe. He's trying to force her into a corner, where she can't back off anymore, and that would spell certain doom for her. Millia needs to think of a way out, and fast.
After repelling the next attack, the ex-assassin flips backwards over a table and kicks the piece of furniture at Eddie. He effortlessly smashes it to splinters with a backhand stroke. Next, Millia picks up a stool with her hair and flings it at him. This time, the dead killer melts into the shadow of the building he's standing in. The wooden seat flies harmlessly over him and explodes into shrapnel once it crashes into a wall.
But where did Eddie go? Millia is not unfamiliar with these kinds of situations. Once he merges with the shadows, the Beast can strike from any shadow he wants. And in the dim light of the setting sun, the umbra of the landscape is long indeed.
Boom!
A thunderous explosion rings out, shaking the ground and unbalancing Millia. It seems Jam and the mystery woman has begun fighting in earnest. The blue eyed ex-assassin swiftly steadies herself. Eddie will probably try to attack her in this momentary lapse in defence.
"GRAAAARGH!"
As she expected, the dark creature bursts out from the ground underneath her. Even though Millia predicted this, she still only narrowly avoids Eddie's jaws by jumping into the air. The dead man yanks the rest of his body out of the shadows and takes to the air after her. Wings of darkness spread from his shoulder blades and he zips into the skies.
This is bad. Eddie's superior aerial mobility makes fighting him in the air absolutely unfeasible. And with his speed, the Beast is going to be able to make at least one pass on her. If that's the case, then Millia would rather face him head-on than with her back turned.
Millia inhales deeply and bends her arms and legs back, preparing herself mentally. Not only does she have to unleash a burst of magic to accelerate her fall, but the maneuver she plans to perform against Eddie is complex. Concentration is crucial to controlling her hair. However, with her heart racing and adrenaline pumping, it is not easy to stay calm and collected in battle. Even so, the blonde ex-assassin did not survive for this long by losing her focus in critical moments. A cold haze envelopes her mind. She can see what's going to happen.
She unleashes the magic gathered in her arms. The black creature lunges towards her with claws outstretched. Her hair shoots out like a spear to meet him. Right before contact, a couple of strands will extend out and lash themselves around the Beast's arm. Those strands will pull Eddie's arm aside and cause his blow to miss. The main polearm of hair will impale him from his forearm down to the shoulder.
Perhaps the Millia of a month ago could've formed a third strand to wring the carcass's neck, but it would be folly to try that now. She is not as robust as she was a month ago, both physically and mentally. To push herself to try something beyond what she's sure she's capable of is a desperate measure that should be saved as a last resort.
"YOU'RE MINE NOW!" roars Eddie as he flies towards her. The shadow armor around his fingers has elongated into wicked talons that seek to tear and rend.
No more time to prepare; now is the time to act! Millia lets the energy prepared in her limbs explode out and propel her towards her foe. Crystal blue orbs are forced into a squint as the wind pushes against her in protest of her speed. The outstretched claws of the black creature's left arm draw ever closer to her face. Golden hair shoots out like a lance to retaliate. A few locks separate from the main branch and extend out, wrapping themselves around the Beast's arm. These locks pull Eddie's arm to the right while the main spear of hair continues on its course to shear the Forbidden Beast's arm off.
But things don't unfold the way Millia planned.
She doesn't know what drove Eddie to say what he says next. Perhaps he wasn't finished yelling yet and wanted to complete his last line. Perhaps he realized what Millia is doing and screams out of hate. But regardless, Eddie opens his jaws and shrieks:
"MILLIA!"
And all of a sudden, she is back in her dreams, watching Zato recede into the darkness. His voice, tinged with anger, hatred, betrayal and loss rings in her ears even as he disappears into oblivion. She's never regretted her decision to leave the Guild, so why? Why does his voice make her weak inside?
Pain brings Millia back to reality. The hairs lashed around Eddie's arm did not yank hard enough to the side and one of the black talons score a deep gash on her cheek. Millia curses herself for being distracted so easily. The Russian ex-assassin makes the necessary adjustments to strike back, but at this point it is impossible to take the Beast's arm.
The moment of contact is brief, less than a second, and then they are past each other. Millia lands in a crouch and retracts her hair. The ex-assassin is sure she felt her hair rip into something. This is confirmed by the pained screech Eddie makes before landing unsteadily. The incarnate shadow balances himself with his healthy arm. Sure, his black armor is broken and blood gushes from a slash running down his left arm, but that is not good enough; that appendage should not even be there.
"Ahahahahahahaha! What's wrong?" taunts the possessed killer. He's breathing hard from pain and exertion, but his tone is colored with amusement and mockery. "The Millia that killed this body the first time would've left me with only one arm. Why do you hesitate? Surely it can't be that you can't bring yourself to kill the man you love oh-so-dearly. You've already killed him once."
Millia grits her teeth. That is a thing of the past. Once she had seen Zato for what he is—a sadistic killer with an obsession with sin and perfection—she buried such useless feelings and threw them away. For Eddie to accuse her like this...!
"Oh dearest pet, I'm all done over here!" calls the scarlet guitarist. "I've detected something very interesting a few leagues to the west, so I'll be heading over there now. Do join me when you're done." With a flash of green light, the red guitarist is gone. Where's Jam? Nowhere in sight. There's no time to worry about her; Millia has her own fight to focus on.
"Hmph. Do you expect me to continue to slave for you once I take my new body?"
Millia forces herself to take a deep breath. Getting mad is what Eddie wants. She won't give him the satisfaction of playing with her emotions.
"But back to the subject at hand. Heheheh. You poor stray cat. Even though you've wandered away, you can't forget about your owner. Indeed—" Eddie's red eyes narrow in exquisite delight as Millia's expression darkens. "—you left the Guild to escape the life of death and killing that Zato adopted you into. And yet, here you are, years later, and nothing's changed. Or maybe, one thing's changed. You're still killing, you're still surrounded by death, but now you're alone. You have nothing to show for your desertion of the Guild and, in your heart of hearts, you still desire his warmth, don't you?"
She should laugh. The proper response would be to laugh and tell Eddie that he's way off the mark. She should scoff and dismiss these outlandish, inaccurate and downright slanderous claims. But Millia's reaction is just the opposite. It isn't scornful laughter that fills her, it's something else: rage. Black, murderous rage spills from the pit of her stomach. Anger forms a knot in her chest and floods her limbs with uncontrollable energy.
How dare you. How dare you presume to know how I feel, to know what I've been through? The reason I have nothing is not because of a lack of trying, but because the shadow of death pursues me! It's not my fault!
But even as Millia attempts to convince herself, her words ring hollow in her mind.
Kill.
The blonde will not allow a dead person—no, the shadow of a dead person, to slander her like this. She will shut his mouth, permanently.
"Ho, I sense a pleasant desire to kill. But that's no good; an assassin should conceal her killing intent until the moment she strikes. You're slipping woman, concentrate! Recite the Assassin's Creed!"
Memories and words surge to the forefront of Millia's mind, unbidden.
"Remember, then, Millia, that magic is the ability to create energy, and the power of a magic user is to direct and manipulate the energy."
A dark room. Her room. Millia hasn't slept well since the operation. The doctors said the operation would give her extraordinary powers. But so far, the only difference is the voice in her head telling her, imploring her, demanding her to kill, maim and destroy everything.
"Normally, mages do this with their minds. For us, who were not born with this natural talent, there are alternative options. This Forbidden Magic is one of those alternatives. We offer up one body part, and, in exchange, we gain the ability to use magic to give life to something else."
Zato also underwent the operation and, after a few days to recover, is now visiting Millia to see how she's adjusting. His honey yellow eyes are now covered by a veil of red cloth. Under normal circumstances, Milla would detest his presence and pointedly ignore him. After all, the older man is the one who inducted her into the world of assassins and robbed her of a clean mind and easy conscience. But right now, the Russian is just glad to see another human and hear a voice that isn't...that.
"Behold, my Magic: a beast that grants me control over the shadows."
Zato clenches his right hand into a fist, and the darkness around him seems to deepen. Then, like raindrops on a pane of glass, droplets of a dark, oily liquid slide down the Spaniard's arm and coalesce around his hand. The black blob slowly grows in size and begins to take a form. It is grotesque and misshapen, but a head region can be discerned, and tiny stub-like arms protrude from its main mass.
Then, two blank white eyes appear.
Millia scrambles back in revulsion. Although the eyes are blank and unintelligent, the blonde is filled with an instinctive fear, the likes of which prey would have for a predator.
Zato releases a big breath, and the creature of darkness vanishes. The aspiring leader of the assassin is still shaking from exertion and a thin layer of sweat covers his skin.
"I've affectionately called him 'Eddie'," chuckles Zato as he evens out his breathing. "As you can see, I too am only learning how to control this Beast. Millia, you also possess a similar power now. You've been gifted with the sixth Forbidden Magic: Angra. With it, you can have full control over your hair, to extend or retract it at will, to strengthen it as hard as iron or make it as soft as a silken sheet.
"But first, you must learn to control it, and that requires concentration, focus and strength of mind. You hear it too, don't you? The voices?"
Millia nods.
"They are a side effect of the Forbidden Magic. Learn to tune out the voices and impose your will over them, however, and the Magic's power is yours to wield as you wish. So let us begin your mental training."
Zato seats himself on her bed and wraps a muscled arm around her. Even as the hairs of her nape rises, Millia finds herself unconsciously burrowing into Zato's warmth.
"Do you recall the Assassin's Creed?"
That day, Millia could not recall the Assassin's Creed. Indeed, with the constant whispering in her mind, she could not remember anything. Zato had gone over the Creed with her over and over again until each word was branded into her brain.
From that day on, Millia would learn to recite the Creed in any and all situations. In pain and suffering. In exhaustion and fatigue. In heat and in cold. In sickness and in hunger. Even in her sleep, the blonde could conjure up the words. And, as the training progressed, the voice in her head slowly but surely faded. Her focus became razor sharp and strong as iron, and her ability to control the Forbidden Magic grew to reflect that. Her hair had the strength to cut blocks of metal, the durability to stop bullets and the lightness to form wings and propel her through the sky.
In time, Millia would no longer need to concentrate on the Assassin's Creed to maintain control over her Forbidden Magic. Even so, every time the blonde invoked the Magic to strike down a target, she would mentally chant the Creed. And every time, without fail, she would be whisked back to that dark room, resting against Zato's muscular side and feeling safe for the first time in her life.
Until the day she learned the truth.
Once Millia learned the truth about the Forbidden Magics—the Forbidden Beasts—and how Zato would've sacrificed the minds and bodies of herself and four others (in fact, that's exactly what happened to the other four: eaten up by the Beasts they were implanted with) all to realize his 'Perfect Assassin,' she left the Guild.
Since then, the Creed has not crossed her mind even once. It was a conscious decision on Millia's part to never again rely on such a prop from Zato and her assassin days. She would walk her own path and find her own destiny.
But despite her resolution, it appears the Creed has been seared deep into her mind. And at Eddie's command, the Russian woman nearly blurted it out.
That's it.
Fury completely consumes her. No sentient thought remains in her, only raw rage.
Kill. Maim. Destroy. HIM!
A red mist descends on Millia's vision, blocking out everything except her target. Towards this target the blonde charges recklessly.
A sudden chill shooting up her spine is the only warning Millia gets before a drill of pure darkness erupts from the ground beneath her. Fortunately, having fought Zato before means Millia easily vaults over the rotating bit on reaction.
The distance between them is closing.
Another drill pops through the dirt, but Millia easily skips to the side and keeps on charging.
Eddie is now within the effective range of her hair, but Millia wants to get in closer.
With a snarl, the shadow cast by Zato's body comes to life and thrusts out a shadowy limb at the advancing Russian. The clawed arm elongates and forces the ex-assassin to use her ponytail to swat aside the attack. Now that Millia is within arm's reach, Eddie enshrouds his right arm with umbral substance, effectively turning his fist into a mace. He punches at her while her hair is still recovering from deflecting the earlier attack from the ground. Millia avoids the blow by bending over backwards and letting the punch skim over her chest. From her bent position, the resourceful blonde snaps out a leg and kicks Eddie in the chin.
This is Zato's fighting style: use his power over the shadows to control his opponents and force them into bad positions before attacking with sudden aggression in conjunction with Eddie. Fortunately for Millia, she's learned to fight against his style by using strong footwork and speedy movement to avoid his setups and sneak in attacks while his guard is down. For Eddie to resort to this kind of defensive fighting is the worst kind of folly imaginable.
Millia snaps upright and attacks with quick, wild slashes while her feet dance endlessly, carrying her over, under and around any of Eddie's counterattacks. Her lungs are heaving. Her muscles are burning. Her hair is slicing, over and over again. Blood. Eddie's? Or her own? Doesn't matter. More. Blood. She feels it through her hair; her blows are connecting. Good. Kill!
Shik.
"OOORAUUUGH!"
Eddie lies impaled on a spear of golden hair. His black armor is covered in cuts and lacerations. Millia flicks her neck to the side and throws the corpse off. Her legs are still shaking and her breathing is wild. She's still oddly unsettled and needs to slow down her racing heart.
"Hehehe...HAHAHAHAHAHA!"
The Beast still lives? Indeed, Eddie hauls himself into a standing—albeit slouched—position. His wounds seem to twist in upon themselves and close.
"You really are holding back," pants Eddie. He sounds practically delirious with pain and exhaustion. "You don't lack the power to kill me. However, even when you give yourself up to anger, your strikes stop short. Why?" Black brows furrow in contemplation and red eyes narrow into slits.
Millia clenches her fists hard enough for her nails to leave crescents on her palms even through her gloves. "Shut your mouth and die." The former assassin struts forward, intent on finishing the job.
Eddie, in an impressive display of stamina, leaps backwards and seems to merge with the shadow of the dragon Gear. Only his red eyes are visible from the darkness.
"Perhaps, subconsciously, you still harbor attachment to this dead man." The parasite's voice is quiet, subdued. He is seriously thinking about what he's saying, and that's enough to give Millia slight pause.
No! Don't let him poison your mind! Kill him!
"Interesting. Just what is Zato to you? I know what that man did to you. You can't do those kinds of things and not have that mean something to you."
A stab of something cold runs through her gut. "What things?" demands Millia.
"Don't pretend. I share the same memories as that man. You and I both know exactly what I'm talking about."
The chill continues to spread through the Russian's body. Is she afraid? Afraid of what he's saying? Of what he might say? No. Millia starts moving again. She's going to end him before he can say anymore. However, the possessed killer is hiding now. His red eyes are no longer visible.
"And yet, neither of you talked about it. It's as if both of you tried to ignore the fact. And before long, it was too late. You locked him up and ran; ran from him, the Guild, and yourself."
Eddie's voice is moving. Delaying won't do him any good. Millia snaps her hair and flings a pin of blonde hair towards the location of his voice.
"GRRRRN! B-but, you couldn't run from the past forever. Zato came back, and you found yourself drawn back, again and again. Still, you couldn't face the truth, so you killed him. You thought you were fighting Zato for your freedom, but you were really fighting for a much more cowardly reason. And now that the deed is done, you realize that killing him hasn't solved your problem. Your very being knows this truth now: you're still in the dark. Zato's shadow continues to looms over you. What is he to you? A father? A leader? What does he mean to you? Someone to love? Someone to hate?"
Strange. Boiling hot wrath should be filling her at these words, so why is she so cold? Shivers run up and down her spine.
"Ah, but it's too late now. He's dead. And soon, YOU WILL BE TOO!"
Jagged teeth chomp down on Millia's left shoulder. The pain elicits a cry from the Russian, but a dark hand clamped around her mouth prevents the sound from coming out. Eddie's true self, not Zato's body, wraps his amorphous shadowy form around the blonde's body. She can't move. She can barely breathe. All of Eddie's talk must have been to distract her so he could possess her shadow. And now, the Beast has the upper hand! Shit!
"You've resisted me long enough. Now give yourself up to me."
Liquidy shadow starts seeping up Millia's nose. Now she can't breathe. She can't think, her hair won't respond. She struggles against her bonds in vain. Eddie is restraining her with all the desperate strength of a dying man. Mind going blank. Kinda calm. Just drift away? Not so bad. Sleep...
YOU WILL NOT HAVE HER.
"AAAAAAAH!" Eddie uncoils from her, and Millia collapses to her knees, clutching her wounded shoulder. Her body is instinctively gasping deep lungfuls of air, but her brain is numb. What...?
"Angra! You've already grown strong enough to resist me, dear sister! But the girl is nearly dead, and I will not be denied now!"
Eddie survived because of her lack of focus, Millia is sure of it now. She won't make the same mistake twice.
Black it out. Hesitation. Doubt. Fear. I'll take my urge to kill and black everything else out.
Millia hobbles to her feet. The sun is nearly entirely below the city skyline now, and shadows cover the entire street. This gives Eddie many hiding spots, but that's fine. She'll just destroy everything. He has to die!
Millia takes a deep breath before crossing her arms. She isn't quite sure what she's doing, but something tells her this will work. The Russian raises them over and behind her head. Then she tilts her neck back and lets her hair's true length down. A golden carpet dangles from her head; each individual strand seems to squirm and sway in a separate direction. Millia slowly lowers her hands out to the sides, and as she does this, the writhing mass that is her hair begins to take form into seven prongs. The ex-assassin jerks her upper body forwards and thrusts her hair into the ground. The prongs enlarge and drill out of the ground. They expand in a circle around Millia, tearing up the dirt lot and anything living on the ground.
"What?"
The mental demand is enormous. This is the first time controlling her hair has caused pain for Millia. But she can hear Eddie scrambling for his life, and that makes it all worth it.
"RAAAAARGH!"
Someone's screaming. It both does and does not sound like her. But it can't be her; the pain isn't that bad. What is this feeling? Ecstasy. Freedom. God, the pain is intensifying. It feels like her head is splitting apart.
Suddenly, Millia feels very tired. Drained. Eddie seems to be saying something, but his voice is so far away. She can barely hear him. The blonde can't sense his presence anymore anyways. He must have escaped. Doesn't matter now. Her body...Millia can feel it, just barely. It's moving, but she's not moving it. Not important. Right now, she just wants to rest.
Yes child, rest. You've fought long and hard in this cruel world, and it's done nothing but betray you. Rest now, while I destroy this world. Perhaps in your dreams, you will find peace.
A voice, a presence in her mind, talking to her. Should she be worried? No. Tired now. Slumber.
I honestly feel the drawbacks of not laying down a good foundation early in the story. Especially concerning magic, what it is and how it works. I've offered a little bandage explanation in this chapter, but such a fundamental concept in the Guilty Gear universe should be discussed much earlier. A couple of character motivations, conflicts, problems and resolutions have also been bothering me and I spent a lot of time penning out how the assassins relate to each other.
Despite writer's block, heavy distraction (I was on a sci-fi marathon for like a month) and a lot of heavy slogging, I enjoyed writing this chapter. A WWE reference, referral to the Night Knives drama CD, and an insta-kill was all very fun to put to words.
Next chapter: our lovers reunite. This one's gonna be a tough one for me to slog through too.