Old chapter 22.

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The Twelfth Testament

The Critical Point –

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"Are you sure this info is accurate?"

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A triumphant grin flashed by in the darkness, adorning the face of their unknown foe. They had been too focused on their goal and had temporarily forgotten to mind their surroundings; they had been too sure of themselves and of that their opponent had been alone and separated from his allies to notice that one of them had snuck up on them in the dark. Even those with keen senses had been left bewildered when they finally caught onto the fact that someone or something had arrived to aid their opponent and had managed to do so by infiltrating their own forces – without being noticed, just to add to the insult. They were trained professionals – exorcists – and yet they had all somehow failed to see it coming before it was already too late. Their opponent had led them right into a trap, enabling his hidden assistant to take them by surprise.

Possession. Whoever would have heard of such a thing?

They had gravely underestimated the people they had been up against, paying too much attention to that their opponent was still recovering from a grave injury, taking too much comfort in their by far superior numbers and force. Truly, had their opponent not been entirely focused on making a clean getaway, things would probably have ended badly for them. It was an outright disgrace to them all and a frustrating one at that, that an exorcist party of such numbers would find themselves letting a bunch of amateurs to slip through their fingers.

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"Then…"

Pause.

"What about the others?"

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Their opponent had slipped through their fingers and had already fled alongside his allies by the time they would have been able to retaliate, having enlisted help from one of their own members at that, without said person's knowledge or consent; Noise Marie remembered very little of what had transpired, mentioning that he had heard a dissonant tune shortly before he had apparently been possessed.

Truly, they had been far too careless, but in return, their opponent's general recklessness had mostly made up for it; the White Demon had slipped through their net but had not done so unscathed, courtesy of the stray hits people had managed to land on him. Even so, those stray hits had by no means been enough to do much damage, but they had slowed him down a bit, only for him to be snatched up and carried off by yet another hidden ally, all while his other accomplice – the one possessing Noise Marie – had made an obscene gesture in their general direction before seemingly dispersing, leaving the exorcist's body behind.

They had attempted to pursue and had come close to catching up with them as well, until their opponents had just suddenly vanished, seemingly into thin air.

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"And that was how many days ago?"

Pause.

"And there are still no clues as to their whereabouts?"

Pause.

"Yes, yes, I understand."

Pause.

"Yes, yes…"

Pause.

"Is that so?"

Pause.

"Alright, you may proceed… but keep me informed."

Pause.

"And Kanda… Good luck."

Silence.

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Silver-grey eyes stared up towards the sky, narrowing slightly for a moment before they were directed elsewhere, focusing on the path they were travelling down instead of the sky which lay above them, almost completely hidden from them by the thick canopy of leaves which lay above. He sighed slightly, pausing briefly in his stride to adjust his grip on the sleeping child on his back. The brat in question – Timothy, who else? – murmured something incoherent before once again burying his bandana-covered head into the crook of Allen's neck.

"Is he going to be alright?" Miranda asked for the umpteenth time as she caught up with them, barely avoiding stumbling on various things hidden in the thick foliage they were making their way through, her eyes alit with concern.

"He'll be fine," Allen responded as he went on, keeping his eyes ahead. "It's just a rebound…"

He could feel her eyes on him; she did not appear to be very convinced. Then again, why was there ever a need to convince and reassure her in the first place?

"There were some akuma ahead," Crowley announced once they happened upon him a bit further down the path. "But I took care of them."

For good measure, the former count used the back of his hand to wipe some remnants of akuma blood away, only to round it all off by licking it away from his hand once he had, looking strangely pleased with himself. Allen just snorted slightly in response, as if finding the display mildly repulsive.

As far as the akuma were concerned, he had already sensed them beforehand; they had been just small fry anyhow, so he had not had much reason to concern himself. Besides, his senses were far more concerned with tracking down other anomalies in their surroundings, since their escape from the exorcists had been rather haphazard and even though Allen had made sure to cover their tracks reasonably well, there was really no telling when those people managed to pick up their trail again. After all, this particular group of exorcists had at least one decent tracker among them, and that had been the very exorcist Allen had made sure to incapacitate by having Timothy possess him; it had not taken him too much time to piece together that the man in question relied on his ears rather than his eyes – because he was blind, as Timothy later informed him – and had his hearing amplified by his Innocence by the looks of it as well. The man in question had also been the one in control of all those wires, something which had proved extremely useful when handling the exorcists; after all, it was not like they would have expected to be attacked by their own allies or anything.

Even so, it was highly unlikely that they – him and the others – would be able to get away with anything similar in the future; Timothy's technique only allowed him to possess those with their guards down, and now that they had displayed it so openly, it was highly unlikely that they would be able to catch any of them by surprise in a similar situation in the future. Besides, if such a thing did occur against all expectation, the other exorcists would no doubt know what to do about it.

He sighed again. Then he looked up, sensing the eyes that were resting on him. "What is it?"

Crowley frowned lightly. "Are you sure you should be carrying him? You have only just recovered yourself…"

"Please," Allen snorted. "Don't treat me like an invalid. I have survived far worse than this."

Once again, his companions did not seem very convinced, but he did not care much for it, seeing that it was a matter of lesser importance in his mind.

The air was hot and damp and heavy to breathe; it – along with whatever perspiration they had worked up by moving – stuck to them, weighing them down quite a bit. Even the golem appeared to be affected by it, abandoning its state of flight to settle in Allen's somewhat sweaty snow-white locks instead, as though the thing itself was aware of the fact that Allen would not be able to swat it away without dropping Timothy in the process.

"We need to replenish our fresh water supplies," Allen said, continuing to walk alongside with the others. "And preferably drop the brat into a river or something; his fever seems to have risen again."

The others nodded quietly in agreement.

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"I see… Proceed accordingly."

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True to Allen's earlier prediction, it did not take long for the brat to bounce right back into awareness and to return to his most favourite pastime – that is, to pester Allen with his mere existence. The latter did not mind it all too much though, honestly relieved that he no longer had to carry such a burden on his back even though things had been reasonably peaceful during the time the brat had been sleeping.

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"Will you join me… Allen Walker?"

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He paused momentarily, looking up towards the skies again.

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"I don't want to get involved…"

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"It's a beautiful sunset, isn't it?"

The others looked up at him in surprise, first at him and then at the sun as it sank deeper into the ocean, temporarily colouring both it and the sky in partial crimson. "…Is it?"

He continued looking into the afar, at the reddening skies, a bleak smile edging itself into his features.

Red… it was such a beautiful colour.

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"One day… you'll probably understand."

He snorted in clear disbelief.

"I won't."

A smile.

"You will, I assure you."

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Silver-grey eyes remained at the horizon, distant.

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"I still don't believe you."

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To a certain degree, he did understand, but he still refused to believe, because even he had his limits. Regardless of all the things he had borne witness to in his life, credible and incredible things alike, this was just one of those things which he would probably never understand and probably never believe in either, regardless of the ever-growing pile of evidence which lay before him. He turned a blind eye to it, ignoring it to the best of his ability, yet he still found himself noticing how it became more and more pronounced, much like the shadow which dwelled within him.

The evidence was piling up, being reinforced over and over, yet he still refused to believe.

The fated day was approaching and it was approaching swiftly; his time was coming to an end and the shadows crept closer, getting ready to devour him.

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"I refuse."

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Humans were selfish beings and so was he, regardless of whether he adhered to normative human behaviour or did not. His life was one he had fought for. It had been given to him at some point in time, but he had been the one to preserve it; he had fought nail and tooth to remain amongst the living, even though he had not had much to live for at the time. He would live, and he would live as himself, even if it killed him to do so. He would live, and he would do so in any way he saw fit, because if he could not choose for himself then what made living worthwhile? He would rather perish prematurely than receive protection in exchange for limiting his freedom. Cages were still cages after all, regardless of their purpose. He was restrained enough as it was; anymore restraints and he would break and begin falling apart beneath them.

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"Your time… is running out."

He turned around, smiling.

"I know."

His masked reflection shifted slightly, tilting its head to the side in question as he turned his back to it, leaning against the looking glass.

"How long do I have?"

His reflection shifted again.

"Not long."

He snorted.

"How long?"

His reflection went quiet, leaning its head towards the glass barrier which kept them apart.

"How long do I have, Joker?" he asked, turning to face it once more, letting his own forehead rest against the cool glass surface.

The masked reflection in question shifted again, bringing a hand up to its face to remove the mask, doing so and lowering it slowly. Eyes, amber with slit pupils, looked back at him.

"There is still time… just not much," his reflection responded, looking towards him. "If He wakes up – and He will, and soon – then the amount of time I can keep Him here is quite limited. If He does emerge, then there's no guarantee that either one of us will survive it…"

He closed his eyes, raising one of his hands to rest the palm against the barrier.

"I know."

His reflection shifted once more, its hand trailing alongside the surface to settle next to where he had placed his hand, sighing.

"Say… Is that why you seem so intent on destroying yourself before that happens?"

Silence.

He opened his eyes and withdrew, watching as amber eyes admonished him.

"You are a fool."

He snorted, turning away.

"So are you."

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He looked up suddenly, pausing briefly in his stride. His companions, sensing something was amiss, also paused, their eyes alternating between looking towards him and scanning their immediate surroundings, trying to sense or see what he had sensed out there in the night.

"Akuma," Crowley muttered after a few moments, baring his teeth. "And quite a few of them."

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"The Earl will soon be expecting an answer from you, and when that time comes…"

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He summoned his Innocence and it complied almost eagerly, eager to be wielded, eager to destroy. It glowed brightly, showering him with its radiance and dispelling the shadows which had silently crept up on him.

Claws tore through the night, shredding Dark Matter in their wake, but the akuma that had perished was soon replaced by another and then by yet another.

They were surrounded.

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The madman's chuckle filled his ears, but he kept his back turned to him.

"The offer can wait for another time… perhaps until we meet again under more favourable circumstances…"

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He struck again, landing a decisive hit before withdrawing to battle another opponent.

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"I refuse."

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His Innocence sang in response to his silent refusal, lending itself to him fully. The sound resonated within him and a part of him answered to it, allowing it to take hold and to connect more deeply. The shadow within him withdrew slowly, shying away from the light as it shone with such brilliance. It was so bright that it hurt his eyes with its radiance, blinding yet illuminating all at once, bringing about a fragment of absolute clarity – of revelation – before it once again faded a bit.

Something had broken within him, tearing down walls he had spent ages building and reinforcing. It hurt, it hurt to such a degree that he had tears streaming down his face, obscured by the mask and unseen in the heat of battle. It felt like he was burning inside, like there was fire coursing through his veins, but soon enough the pain receded, lowering itself to more tolerable levels.

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"Whether it will become a blessing or a curse, you were born with a choice…"

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"You and you alone can choose what to make of it."

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"You, and you alone."

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There was a sword in his hand – his Innocence, having taken on yet another form even as the cloak surrounded him – and it was stained in blackness courtesy of all that he had slain. He was breathing heavily, using the sword to support him while he threw a glance at the battlefield and at the decimated number of opponents that were either keeping their distance or engaged in battle with one of his companions. The latter were holding up surprisingly well against the opposition, and occurred to him that this was the first time the lot of them had been involved in an actual battle – together, at least. Even so, the thought did not remain with him long as he soon shrugged it off and exhaled slowly, adjusting the mask with his hand before readying himself to take care of the akuma that remained. Still, there was something there, tugging at his senses.

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"I don't want to get involved…"

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He dodged just in time to avoid an attack from behind, somersaulting and cleaving the attacking akuma in two. As it crumbled before him, he once again paused in his movements and turned his head to the side, directing his attention towards the outskirts of the battlefield. After a few moments, his eyes narrowed and he wordlessly commanded his Innocence to revert back to its usual form. He sunk into position, awaiting the assault he knew would come. There was a stab of pain in his abdomen, but he gritted his teeth and steeled himself against it, forcing himself to retain focus.

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"How much time do I have left?"

His reflection shifted, the image distorting momentarily before stabilising into a familiar one.

"To destroy yourself?"

He shrugged lightly in response.

"I walk my own path… and I shape my own fate…"

Amber eyes continued watching him, narrowing slightly.

"… If not, then I'd rather die."

His reflection snorted.

"That's rather selfish of you, isn't it?"

He looked up.

"How so?"

His reflection shifted once more, leaning against the barrier which separated them.

"You have already gone past the critical point, and as such the decision is no longer only yours to make…"

Serious amber eyes stared back at him from beyond.

"Because… You're already involved, Allen."

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