Sumina

-chapter ten-

Equilibrium to Animosity

A/N: Oh, we are really close! Wow! This is pretty impressive (for someone like me, who doesn't normally write multi-chapter stories). I hope you guys have enjoyed the ride along the way—I'm extremely grateful for all of the reviews and comments along the way! Please enjoy—we're almost done here!

Guesses on who these people are, based on their descriptions, is always fun to hear.

For those of you interested in dark mood-setting music for creepy scenes, I often listened to Midnight Syndicate while I worked on this chapter. In particular, tracks from their Album The 13th Hour. My personal favorite was Return of the Ancient Ones, but I also listened to Mausoleum d'Haverghast quite often as well.

Merry Christmas, everyone! I hope, for those of you that celebrate around this time, that you've all enjoyed the holiday season! Take this chapter as a present, if you'd like to take it that way.

Rating: T, for violence, coarse language and gruesome images.

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Footsteps. They rush through the halls now, stopping only once in a while to make sure no one has followed them. When they hear the footsteps, they pause immediately. Someone walks up the stairs at a slow, calm pace. They panic, knowing there is nowhere to hide.

Heracles frowns at them as he walks down the hall. "Did I worry you?"

"…Heracles?" Kiku's eyes widen. Heracles smiles at him, and he can't help but run down the hallway and embrace him tightly, clinging to his shirt, face buried in the Greek man's chest. Moments later, he withdraws, embarrassed by his sudden action.

"Kiku, we may talk later." Heracles turns his gaze from the smaller male still holding his shirt to the group in the background. "Right now, it is important to do what we've come here for. Follow me." He pries Kiku's hands from his shirt (still holding onto one) tenderly, turns, and begins to walk away. Kiku is pulled along, while the rest attempt to catch up by walking at a faster pace.

It takes what feels to be an hour before they halt, and it is only because the patter of numerous feet against the tiled floor can be heard approaching them at a rapid pace. Gilbert swears under his breath and tugs a gun from his side, while Vash already has his out. Ivan holds his water pipe up high, and Arthur takes a stance towards the back. Heracles pulls Kiku close to the wall and shelters him. A shower of bullets is fired as the enemy rounds the corner.

Ivan is the first to be hit. A bullet grazes his shoulder—he does not even flinch. Instantly, Vash lets out his own shots, hitting several men as they rush forward. Only two of the four fall, and Vash fires again. Gilbert sets to work picking off the people that have recently rounded the corner.

Those that get too close are for Ivan. He whacks a man over the head with his water pipe, who falls to the ground with a satisfying grunt. Ivan nudges the body with his foot, looking back at the approaching enemies. He sighs. Many more begin to flood the corridor. "Oh, wonderful," he curses heavily in Russian. "Why are all these men still here if those three were supposed to handle them?"

"They probably left before they could get to them." Vash's gun makes a dull clicking noise as it runs out of ammunition. He tosses the useless thing aside and pulls another one from his side, taking up the quick process of aiming and shooting once more. How the man came into the possession of so many guns will never be fully understood.

Gilbert is firing shots at the enemies as well, though when he runs out, he simply withdraws. Vash seems content to keep firing. Arthur rolls his eyes. "Let me handle this," he growls, and a string of ancient, foreign words leave his lips. The words make a bright light swirl about the Englishman, lifting his dark cloak around him, before it suddenly surged forth—everyone ducked to the ground immediately—to knock the approaching group to the ground, light drowning them in darkness. They would not wake. With a triumphant smirk, Arthur tossed his head to look at the rest of them. "Easy. Now let's keep going. I believe we're close now."

Vash glares. "Whatever. When we get there, Gilbert and I will have to turn back."

"And why is that?" Ivan raises an eyebrow at the small blond.

"The barrier is starting to break," Gilbert explains, tucking his gun away. "The town is going to need some assistance." He grins. "More use for us there. Ya know? More fun for us there now, too."

"…Yeah. Let's just keep going," Arthur turns to look at Heracles, who moves from his defensive position in front of Kiku and nods, walking forward. Kiku trails after, as do the others, skipping over the bodies—some with more care than others. Ivan himself does not care much for avoiding the simple things, and he is sure he has crushed several fingers under his boots by the time they've crossed the halls.

In Ivan's opinion, the stairs were far too lengthy. They lead them up to the second story and into a far larger hallway. By the time they had reached the second story, Ivan was trying to catch his breath. Kiku seemed fine, but looked slightly flustered. Arthur looked to be slightly ruffled, while Heracles was unaffected for the most part. Both Gilbert and Vash were calm about catching their breath.

"This is the floor," Heracles states, looking at Gilbert and Vash. "Do you plan on leaving now?"

"Yeah," Gilbert turns towards the staircase. "Good luck. You're gonna need it."

"I'd hope not," Ivan mumbles, but he knows it's true. He is expecting the worst to transpire.

"Don't do anything stupid," is the last thing Vash says before both he and Gilbert rush down the stairs to help their comrades in the city. Their footsteps down the staircase drift slowly from Ivan's hearing. Further away, the barrier has given out.

"Come on," Arthur hisses. "Let's get going now. Heracles, what should we do?"

"Continue forward. Animus is in the room just ahead." As if to follow his own words, Heracles starts forward. Ivan follows close behind, as does Kiku. Arthur is content to hanging behind them. At the end of the hall, a set of double-doors stands before them. Kiku takes a deep, shaky breath. Heracles rubs the small of the dark-haired man's back.

"…Yes," Kiku closes his eyes. "But I think we should just get going. Finish it, quickly…please."

"I would have to agree," Arthur nods his head. "Let's end this." His voice is sharp, disappointed. Ivan turns to look back at him. The emerald green eyes of the Englishman are darkened, a deep-seated misery lingering within them. Ivan forces himself to ignore this and continue hating the magician.

"Then let us move on," Ivan pushes the doors open with a small bit of difficulty, clutching his pipe in his hand and raising it in a swinging posture immediately afterward. He steps in front of Kiku, Arthur backing the man in the middle, and they walk through the gaping doorway into the high-ceiling room, with Heracles trailing after them.

A madman met their sights. He was no more handsome than he was insane. The dark brown hair was tangled, no doubt left unbrushed. His eyes were a rich brown to match, which swam in a sea of insanity. He looked ragged, worn. Wasting away. An ancient, unused man, with a working mind, as unstable as it was, who sat upon his throne and could really do far less than the men that swore allegiance to him did. Animus seemed to be an open, vulnerable target…before his eyes flashed and the doors sealed shut behind them with a deafening roar of the creaking wood.

"I see that you have made it here intact," the deep voice laughs. "Splendid. Welcome, welcome. Heracles, you escaped me. How so?"

"A man freed me," Heracles explains, no fear evident in neither his posture nor his voice. "It would seem as if your defenses are lacking."

"Hm! How presumptuous. Now what is it that you have brought to me? A mirror?" Ivan's hand flies to his pocket protectively, and Animus laughs once more. "It is an important mirror, isn't it?"

Ivan growls "Shut your mouth, you—" Arthur shoves him, glaring.

"Don't talk to him like that—Kiku needs time, sodding moron!"

Again, Animus laughs. "So that is his name? Kiku, you won't get the time to finish."

Kiku continues his work, but he looks nervous. Heracles urges him to continue, "No matter what he says, go on. We cannot afford to stop here." Kiku takes these words to heart and blocks everything but the writings on the wall out of his head. His hand moves swiftly with the paint and brush.

"Animus," Arthur attempts to stall. "So, why is it that you killed your daughter? Sumina…it was cruel of you. Just because she would not help you! Just because she believed in the townspeople. You're a sick bastard."

"No!" Animus' voice was sharp, pained now. This came as a surprise to both Arthur and Ivan. "I would never kill my daughter for her choices! Sumina was dear to me…I loved her, believe me. But it was her damned looks! She drove me mad. It haunted me, every time I saw her…she reminded me of that man, long ago! Oh, that man…I had to destroy him, but damn, if I had ever met a more beautiful person! I desired him for so long, and yet…and yet…" he swallowed with difficulty "I still killed him. So when she was born, and I saw that she looked like him, I thought for sure that it was the man that had blessed her with his beauty! It haunted me every day, her eyes watching me with the same cold curiosity as his would…braiding locks of her hair and tucking it behind her ears…she tortured me, he must have come back to tell her how to get under my skin!

"And so it was with remorse that I had my daughter murdered! Amalia…I'm sorry, Amalia…Sumina…" His heart-wrenching explanation was finished when he abruptly stood, pulling his blade from his side and rushing forward. "Yet you speak like you knew why! You come into my home to kill me! For that, you will join her!" Animus hurtles towards Arthur; the magician begins to say a spell, but the blade has already punctured his shoulder and removed, to be used again. Ivan pulls the gun from his coat and fires. It is enough to deter Animus for just a moment, but that's all that he needs.

Kiku's outline glows a brilliant white. Behind him, the wall is torn open by russet claws, a black and dismal dimension with a swirling purple-black backdrop. A low hiss can be heard from within. Animus turns, slowly, to gaze at the portal as the shadow-serpent slides through, casting its sharp red glare onto the ancient man. It lolls its head back and makes a sound like shattering glass and the wails of a thousand children dying. Ivan and Arthur cover their ears. Animus' eyes widen. "Malorus!"

The creature twists about and fully enters this world, the portal disappearing behind it. It slithers in mid-air, closer, closer, pushing Animus back onto the wall, where he is an easy target. It cries out again in an accusatory manner. Ivan finally stands up straight, ears still covered, to gaze upon the beast.

It's a fear-inspiring thing. A dark body made of pure shadow, twisting continually, covered with spikes. What Ivan assumes is a set of wings are nothing more than shadowy wisps resembling them. They flex and fold, wide, but have no true use. It has nothing to call hands. A set of blood red eyes glares down at Animus in a painful silence, waiting for some form of explanation. Its head is pointed like an arrowhead. Ivan slowly comes to realize that the whitish spikes sticking from its back are its spine, and beneath the shadowy surface of the creature lays not only its own bones, but the remains of people long dead, floating in stagnant space. It takes all of his willpower not to gag at the thought of the beast devouring a human whole.

Some time passes before Animus does anything. He rushes forward and throws his sword into the beast as a last-ditched effort to kill it off. Instantly, the sword rots and turns to dust. Animus groans—a groan of mortal terror—and backs away slowly, back against the wall, terrified. Malorus simply stares at the man in question. The massive shadow-snake does nothing for a very long while, until it makes up its mind and tilts its head back. Above, a dark cloud forms. Thunder cracks loudly from within. Once again, Malorus cries out, "wings" spread wide, body curling and twitching behind it. Its tail slaps the ground. Rather than going through the ground or turning it to dust, it shakes it violently. Arthur falls back onto his tailbone with a doubly-pained grunt, and Ivan just narrowly avoids landing in the same manner; he breaks his fall by clinging to a nearby tapestry hanging off the wall.

Animus moves back, clutching to the stone of the walls, eyes trapped wide open. He is scared. "N-No," he shakes his head desperately "Stop!" But Malorus has no pity. Malorus can feel nothing more than rage and reason. Above, the clouds swirl and reveal a man dressed in bronze armor and a red cape, staring in front of himself on a grassy plane.

Across the Danube are trees, a land of people believed to be feral. Across that wide river lies a man he will soon know well.

The man he felt connected with the most. The man with light blond hair and brilliant green eyes, dressed in green clothes and dark armor, toting a sword. "Come, won't you walk with me?" He was silent, but nodded very gently. Animus smiles, smiles brilliantly. "There we are. After all, it would be wrong to fight a man who has innocence in these times of war, right?" The man did not smile back. He kept his stoic expression in place.

And in the next scene, a sword is plunged through the blond-haired man's stomach, hair stained a deep red.

Animus' eyes are wide. He shakes violently as he holds the man's hand in his own; staring directly down into those green eyes he loved so much. "No, please…I'm sorry," he chokes, but the man is far past living. "I'm so sorry! What have I done?!"

The man's grimace turns into a bloody smirk. He utters a dark, weak laugh. "Hah…it would seem as if you've killed me. My blood…is on your hands now. Never f-forget that. Live with it forever," he laughs again. "Oh, how you fucking deserve that on your conscience. And oh, how you don't…" The man from across the Danube lifts himself as much as he can, using his free hand to clutch the back of Animus' neck and pull him close, pull him down so that his ragged breath is directly against his face. "And still, I'll never forget you and your damned smile…I'll never forget anything, you forsaken bastard." It is then that their lips meet in a final kiss. The man dies under his mouth. It had been the longest he'd ever smiled at him, and the most he'd ever said at one time.

The scene suddenly skips to Animus holding a child in his arms.

He smiles down at the brown-haired child, and looks back towards the woman, who looks broken. Tired. "What shall we name him, my love?"

"Heracles," she breathes. "Now p-please, let me see my son." Gently, he hands her the child. Animus leaves to check on the Egyptian woman who has born him another son.

That night, the woman flees with her child. She flees to Greece and brings her child into the safety of the Karpusi family. Animus would later find and kill her. He lost both his sons in a matter of weeks—Gupta to another family in Egypt. But many years later, he was to have Sumina. Sumina, whose birth name was Amalia.

Animus seems shaken. He has slid from the wall down onto the floor, staring up at the swirling clouds that reveal his past. Tears have stained his cheeks. By the time the last scene comes up, he is sobbing audibly.

An army lies beneath his feet. Singlehandedly, he has slain them. He has taken their souls and their abilities, made them his own. And his mind is fractured beyond repair. The world slowly slips into darkness, slowly, when he slips the poison within Sumina's drink…

When the clouds clear and the high-rise ceiling is visible once more, Animus has laid his head back against the wall. His eyes are shut tight. Malorus gazes at him with a certain sense of satisfaction. "Now what else have you come to take from me, huh? There's nothing left! I am empty!!"

"Far from empty," Ivan remarks. "No, no – more so, filled with all the wrong things."

"Be silent, you cold-hearted coward!" Animus shrieks, but he stays still. Ivan draws back, looking away.

Malorus looks around at them all before it rears its head back and opens its mouth wide, a terrible shriek echoing around the walls. Ivan covers his ears once more. Arthur falls to the ground again, clutching his shoulder, and covers his head entirely. With the blink of an eye, Malorus snaps its head forward and its tongue punctures Animus' chest. A ghastly scream echoes through the room. Animus begins the crumble. Animus begins to bleed from the pores of his skin. Animus is a bloody mass of bones that Malorus devours whole and adds to its collection of those who have disrupted the balance of the world. With its appetite satiated, Malorus slithers across the air and folds its wings back against its shadowy, bulky body, rushing forward at a frightening speed.

The air before it rips itself apart. Malorus disappears into its undesirable home in another world altogether with a final scream, the ripped air sealing itself up in a slow manner after its master slips through. Only then does Ivan fall to his knees. He sinks to the floor with a grunt, only because he does not know what to think. "Dear God, what just happened?" he whispers to himself, petting the mirror's handle in his pocket. Ivan shakily pulls the object forward and recounts all that has passed to Yao.

Arthur hesitantly lifts his head. He releases a breath when neither Malorus nor Animus meets his gaze. But disappointment soon overtakes him. Despite his doubts, despite that he has told himself that he would find nothing, he still finds that dark feeling still lingers there, and he wants to break down and cry for all the years he refused to do so. Instead, he hangs his head and whispers, "I should have never even thought…"

And Heracles hoists Kiku onto his back. "He must be exhausted," he murmurs, mostly to himself, though Ivan and Arthur both hear. "He's been out cold since Malorus entered this dimension. Now come on – it is time we returned to the townspeople."

They reach town in an hour or so. When they do, the townspeople cheer. The Rebellion lasted. No one had died, and for this, they are thankful. Freedom at last comes without the loss of innocent souls. Ivan, Arthur and Heracles are taken back to Roderich's house, where Kiku is laid down on a bed for rest. Arthur's shoulder is patched up. Heracles closes his opened eyes. They sit around him. One by one, people visit. Ivan does not listen to many of them. Most just thank and congratulate them, returning to the party outside right after they have. When Gilbert enters the room, however, he pays attention.

Gilbert leans against the doorway. He is frowning. "Good job, guys. Damn, I envy you. Must have been fun to have taken him down."

"Not really," Arthur waves him off. "It wasn't like we got to knock him out, or anything."

"Still." Gilbert stares at Kiku's motionless body. "…I can't believe I'm still alive," he adds, eyes shut. "I can't believe I'm still here."

"Be thankful you are, like so many others." Arthur looks at him firmly.

"Damn, am I unlucky! Damn it all…damn it… Ich wünsche, dass jemand mich getötet hatte…" Gilbert turns and walks away from them at a slow pace.

They are all silent for a while. Gilbert had brought a stifling blanket of silence upon them. The only thing that breaks it is Arthur's sudden rise from his seat. With his hand trembling, he reaches out to touch Kiku's cheek. His eyes fly wide open as he feels the cold surface of the Japanese man's skin. "Kiku," his tone is urgent. "Oh, no…"

Heracles stands immediately. "What?" He looks directly at Arthur, who shakes his head and sinks back into his chair slowly.

"Kiku…open his eyes. Open them. Tell me what they look like."

Heracles does so. Ivan straightens in his chair. "They're glassy. And…I…can't see the pupils."

"Fuck, no!" Arthur lashes out with his foot, clutching at his hair.

"What?!" Arthur's panic has infected Heracles as well, whose eyes are just as wide as Arthur's were.

"S-Sumina's soul…not all of it was transferred to him, was it? It was missing a portion. A whole soul is needed, but once you summon Malorus, you can't stop it…Malorus will take that whole soul, even if it has to fracture another. M-Malorus…it…it took part of Kiku's soul!" Arthur turns his head away, breathing heavily. "Kiku…he's…he might as well be dead!"

And Ivan can't ever imagine Heracles looking so stricken before in the entire time he's known him.

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Translations:

"Ich wünsche, dass jemand mich getötet hatte." –I wish someone had killed me. (It should translate similarly, if I got it correct.)