Two flicks against the syringe caused the minuscule bubbles to travel upward to be released with a push of the plunger. Ready to begin, the blonde came toward the suspended boy, face creased in concentration.
...Well, at least he's taking it seriously now.
Unfortunately though, the closer the damn thing came, the size seemed to increase. Knowing it was just nerves, he busied his mind by asking why the older man had decided that kicking his skull in was the best course of action. Why hadn't he just asked for him to come here?
Wiping the targeted area with an alcohol swab, he answered. If It had found out exactly what he was up to, he was pretty certain It would have done one of two things. A, It would have fled, taking the poor boy's body along for the ride, or B, tried to utterly destroy the older man in which said man would have been forced to use full power and in result, turn the boy's body into ash, the last part said with a condescending smirk. The comment did exactly as intended, pissing the boy off and serving as a diversion. A rebuttal was mounted by the boy, a challenge to see him try and where did he get off thinking it was okay to just be vaporizing people with that whistling weapon of his. Half way through his tirade, the blonde pierced the skin right at the base of his skull. As wound tight as he was, the boy didn't notice until the searing pain of the fluid entering his cerebellum rocked his head back, effectively rendering him speechless.
The sensation was a cold so dense, it felt like liquid fire.
...No...
He decided to change the analogy to having a molten railroad tie shoved mercilessly into his skull.
...Never mind, both...
Five agonizing minutes later, every milliliter had been injected and the needle slowly, carefully removed. The red head felt dizzy and bogged down, floating yet tethered at the limbs with bricks. They waited and waited and waited some more, both restless for something, anything to happen. The boy was going to tell the blonde to let him loose when, it started.
The sensation of his skin peeling away layer by layer, began at the crown of his head. He felt like he was melting, a lit candle. Down and down he dwindled until there was nothing left but a core. The sun's heat in one half, cold depths of the sea in the other. They pushed against each other, seeking to extinguish their opposite. He was nothing more than consciousness, no longer hindered by a shell, energy adrift. Hundreds of fingers pulled at the coiled spirit, untangling threads of onyx and silver.
A strong suction began to pull at the energies, mind falling back into the abandoned body. Exhaustion replaced euphoria, strength cut in half as he became nothing more than a physical being. The boy loathed this new feeling. Weak, helpless, without power. His mind seemed to echo his thoughts, head empty without The Other. He took in his surrounding with dulls eyes, body limp in the binds. A deafening silence his only inner companion.
The blonde checked vital signs, monitored brain activity, tested reflexes. All was well, all normal, for a human. The boy was no longer a hero harboring a villain within. His lack of presence was disturbing. It hurt the older man deeply to see the boy reduced to this. He hastened the reversal process to bring vitality back to his spirit broken student.
The whirring of machines continued on as the essence began to polarize, the smell of lightning wafting through the air. When the hum of the motor ceased, multiple crystalline tubes were filled with a mercury substance atop something akin to squid ink. The silver fluid was tediously extracted by hand via a dropper, transferred to an container of thick steel that would be air tight once sealed. The same treatment was given to the counter-part. Set within brackets next to their appropriate vessels, the two vats radiated vast amounts of electrical waves that ebbed and flowed throughout the room.
Finally, the husk was prepped, strapped down to another plank like table, power stifling cuffs firmly binding. Both bodies in place, the viscous material was pushed slowly into ready veins. The blonde watched with baited breath as the fluids made their way into the two awaiting forms. He muttered a prayer, eyes closed, head humble. He prayed for success. He prayed for victory. He prayed most for the courageous boy laying in front of him. That with doing this, the boy would be freed from the chains of despair and loss. That the oppressing cloud would lift, letting him heal and become something greater than the tragedies he had endured.
Comforting warmth trickled back in, familiar but not entirely similar. This power bared no grief, did not cling or suffocate, nor was it burdensome. It blew through him like a summer breeze and energized every fiber of his being, a live wire jump starting his until then, sluggish heart and thoughts. This is what it can be like, forever. His heart sang at the idea of being pure of soul. No longer would he have to battle for dominance against his ill desires and drives. He could finally be at peace within his soul, not torn asunder by the conflicting halves. Doubt would no longer linger, fogging his mind. Every action, every word would be from his heart, his true self. Finally, he would be free.
Consciousness returned with the sensation of being eased into the new shell. It felt loose, easy to move within. Reaching outward, It found It was alone. It did not feel the condemning light penetrating Its darkness, burning Its eyes any longer. It was left to settle at the bottom of this vacant heart, permeating the open mind, over running every part of the empty form. It was free.