Try reading this chapter in the dead of night. I'm writing it now, and it's even giving me shivers. Hope you like it, one of my biggest twists. Enjoy!
Cipher's Code Ch28
"It's no use guys, that's the last of it." Cipher tossed away the drained bottle of Elven Dust as they searched through yet another legend, another haphazard mess of notes, and a half torn page of medical information on several diseases- none of which were the least bit helpful.
"Hey, I found something on the cholera," Venti ventured. They had gone through volumes of thick, detailed diseases and how to treat them, including one on how to stop aliens from probing your brain, which Venti took an interest in; a fly would probably intrigue them more. Only the pressing threat of the Sickness and its victims kept them going.
"That'll drain your blood, it's not what we're looking for. Besides, what kind of cholera affects reploids too? This is insane!" Sorra rummaged through another group old, faded documents, searching for a disease they all knew would not be in there.
"Try over there." All three of them jumped as if the Grim Reaper himself had come to tell them that it was time for their visit.
"Raider! What are you doing here- wait forget that. Why the heck didn't you tell us you were here?"
Raider grinned self-consciously. "I thought you might need some help."
Sorra began to calm down first. "That's all very well, but what do think it would have accomplished if you all gave us simultaneous heart attacks? Anyway, you should be outside, or at least in a quarantine suit; we've run out of Elven Dust."
Raider studied their bright orange biochemical suits bemusedly. "No thanks; Dad's immune to the Maverick Virus, so I suppose that goes for me as well."
"What does that have to do with this?"
"If the sickness hits me, I'll just switch to another strand of DNA," Raider said matter-of-factly. "I'm pretty much immune."
"Oh." Sorra couldn't help but being impressed. "That still doesn't explain how you got up here."
"Window. Besides, Specter's oversol, combined with stealth mode makes a very proficient spying tool." Raider smiled wanly. He and his father were the sort to always be cheerful- the Sickness must have affected him greatly. Indeed, the only sounds that could be heard were the four friends together, making a last stand against the Sickness.
"Great, now could you show us what you were talking about? I, for one, have no idea what we're supposed to be doing. Cipher, you go with Raider; see what he's talking about." Sorra blushed once she realized she wasn't inside the Healing wing, and they weren't just her assistants. Quickly snapping out of boss-mode, she added a quiet "please" much to their amusement.
"So what're we looking for again?" Cipher flashed his light against the dark hallways. This just isn't right, Cipher shivered. Why do I feel so threatened in my own home?
Raider lead him into a large elevator, and by the time they reached the ground floor, Cipher was so twitchy, if so much as a rat moved, he'd go berserk. Silently making a promise to skive off the zombie games, Cipher then glided to where a rather old collector rested.
"Oh, hello Raider. Is this your friend," Hirondelle asked benignly.
"Yup," Raider responded cheerfully. "I told you I'd come back to see you." Cipher squirmed slightly in guilt. As far as Hirondelle was concerned, most of the Resistance didn't know he existed half the time. The only times he had visited the archaic reploid was when he was very young, and wanted to hear a story. If there was one thing Hirondelle would never be outmatched in- it was storytelling. Hirondelle knew just about every legend there was.
"So you did." Hirondelle nodded fondly at the cheery Advent. For the most part, he was a solitary reploid, but some company was always appreciated. "Would you like me to tell you the rest of the story?"
"Yes, please!" Raider sat down, all thoughts about finding the cure for the Sickness gone.
U-rak-ten, one of the cleverest of the Ancients woke one night with a design in mind. Now, the Ancients were notorious for their miraculous machines. He worked day and night on the project, only stopping for food and water, barely acknowledging any of the other's attempts to break him of the spell he seemed to be under. Some say he was a genius, others say he was possessed. Either way, as the seasons changed, so increased his insanity. He grew so paranoid, he ordered a great dome around one of the Great Waters, and began his construction of the mighty legend. For seventy years he worked purposefully, never stopping, until his bones were old, his beard matted in spider's silk and adorned in dust. He looked at his creation as one would a long lost son, proclaiming it to be Aranea of the Spider's Snare. For three years, Aranea and the Ancient lived in harmony, until natural courses took the life of the old man. Confused and misguided, the robot wandered the land for weeks on end until it at last found the truth. His father, in the ancient reploid's mind may have passed through the void, but it would never know that. Aranea was feared from the Ancients, and a great number rose against it. Confused and angry, it fought back, and a bloody battle ensued. At last, Aranea stood among the defeated side, along with its broken brethren, when the Ancients who remained neutral devised a plan. They came to the great robot with offerings of peace. A young boy from the village was offered, and for a time, Aranea was happy. He and his companion lived together for many years, but, once again, he passed through the void. Aranea, once again alone in the world, took to the village, which had all but forgotten him by then. They refused when he sought another companion, and when the great reploid took one of their number, every moon high, they seemed to be at a loss. No one knew what to do about the creature, so, once again; they made a plan to utilize the reploid. A war like sector of their number came up to the reploid, admiring him. For a time, Aranea of the Spider's Snare was happy. But then, after they had accustomed to the reploid, they began asking of it, almost worshipping it. Aranea agreed, for fear of being alone once more, and found that, in time, he could make it so that they would never leave him. Encouraging them to enter his insides, where his previous companions resided. They immediately saw the wonders of what it held, and convinced the others to come as well. Aranea sunk to bottom of the ocean, never to be seen again for several centuries. Hirondelle stopped for a second to catch his breath. "Now, you have heard the rest, am I correct?"
Raider nodded. "Of course. Cipher was there too." I was? Then cipher remembered, the legend Axl had told him.
Clearing his throat, Hirondelle continued his story. "The leader of the war like tribe conspirated with the rest of them, and, one day, when Aranea was in a great slumber, they took up their sabers and stepped to the bank of data, where Aranea's life was held. In essence, an enormous soul crystal, Aranea's very life was held in that one diamond. After awaking, Aranea asked them what they were doing, and the leader threatened them, ordering it to do as they commanded, else they would cut the very life source that held them there. At once, a cold feeling crept upon the reploid's heart and soul as it was betrayed by its companions. A great darkness fell upon them, and, one by one, they fell, pale faces, each with the torment and turmoil Aranea felt. Having taken their life energy and greedy for more, he surfaced, and the Ancients were allowed outside once more. Now, Aranea had control of each and every one of their number, and manipulated them, so that their thanks would always be directed to the enormous reploid. The only ones who knew the truth were silenced. Like a plague, the sickness fell upon them, and they turned to Aranea, the very cause of the plague. Aranea's greed sucked every last one dry, save for a small sect that resisted it. They fled, and after many years, a small child was born alongside another Ancient. Thomas Light and Albert Wily were the last of their kind. Each set about their different ways, nearly forgetting the threat Aranea represented. For them, it was but a simple tale when they were children. Wily possessed the talent the rest of his kind possessed, and created the Masters, alongside Light. Light, however, had already made the one being that could resist and damage the malevolent threat. X never knew of his purpose, spared from the terrible fat e f fighting the behemoth Aranea. Light grew to love him as a son, and made the only other beings able to resist Aranea. The Father Elf and Mother Elf rose against Aranea, but the Father Elf made the sacrifice to halt Aranea's progress. Called Dark Elves, misunderstood by the rest of the world for their power, just as Aranea had been, there were only three others, their children. Crea, and Prea were said to be raised in these very halls, attended by Allouette. The other, alongside its mother sought refuge in another dimension. Hirondelle shook his head to remind himself to get back on track with the story. The Father Elf paralyzed the great reploid, and the two fell, deep in the Oceans where it is said that it still rests, plotting its revenge, never forgetting how it had been wronged."
Cipher froze. No. It can't be. Raider clapped, unnoticing Cipher's behavior. Cipher stood up shakily in order to address the wise reploid. "You don't know of the Sickness, do you?"
Hirondelle looked at him oddly. "The what? I'm afraid not much has happened down here."
No. No. No… Numbly, Cipher grasped his phone, barely noticing anything else that went on in the world. "Cipher? What's wrong?" Raider noticed his shocked expression.
"Raider," Cipher said carefully. "Get Mist and Flare, now." The seriousness in his voice was all Raider needed, and without argument, stepped outside utilizing Specter's phantom-like abilities. Hirondelle asked him a question, unheard by the blonde reploid. Cipher dropped his phone, which shattered, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered but stopping him. Aranea. The Sickness. That was she was trying to tell me. It all makes sense; in order for something off this scale to be done, the caster would have to be in a trance. It was never a Sickness. Cipher pulled off the suit, fully prepared. On the way, Naomi caught up with him, dagger in hand.
"Cipher! It's him, he's-"
"I know." Cipher closed his eyes. "Get Venti and the others. You are no match for him.
At first it looked like Naomi was about to argue, but then she saw the truth behind the words, and agreed. Fezri. She's avenging Fezri. Cipher thought back to the sickness. Of course Hirondelle would never be affected! No one ever talks about him, not even Allouette. Of course she would be the first to fall. I just hope they make it in time. Cipher stepped inside the rooms he had visited so often before, now facing the back of one of his oldest friends.
"So you know," Harley said. Then he laughed. "I always hoped it would be so." He turned around to face Cipher in the eyes. "I know what you're thinking. You don't stand a hope of defeating me."
No… Harley… the Sickness… Aranea. It was easy, now, to piece Allouette's desperate message. Cipher allowed his full oversol to creep up upon him. "Why was it that you killed all those refugees? What made you do that?"
Harley shook his head. "Naïve to the end, aren't you? There doesn't have to be a reason for things. We all have our place in the world; it's useless to fight him." He didn't admit to the crime, but he didn't deny it either. "We are the last, Cipher. We are the Ancient Advents. The Advent Zero against the Advent Aranea, I wonder who will win," he mused. "Either way, you are not the Advent Primus. I am." Harley barely raised his hand, and a tendril of shadows sliced open his side- through his impenetrable armor. "Good bye, Cipher." Harley stepped back, and was consumed by shadow.
Venti was the first to make it. She, alongside Sorra pieced it together with Naomi's help, bandaging cipher's side easily. Harley had missed the heart, but it was a close thing. What now, she asked the sky. Once so bright and colorful, all cheer deserted Venti as she watched her friend recover. And why?
Yup. Harley. Very powerful. Just so you know, the power arrangement for Advents goes by a title. For instance- most power so far- Advent Primus, then Duo, and so on. Please respond, I've been dying to get this off my shoulders. Well, shocking anyone?
