That last chapter was not meant to be a cliffhanger, I am so sorry I left so many of you hanging! Anyways enjoy this chapter! There are two more chapters after this one, and a chapter that will answer any questions you have, especially concerning the origins of the Noahs. Feel free to add anymore that you don't understand, and I will do my best to answer them in the last post.

P.S. Allen and Red are used interchangeably in this

Chapter 36

Mana's POV

I reached the city with my precious cargo, the Apocryphos letting me go without protest. I do not think that they wanted the presence of two Noah. Regardless of how weak, a Noah will always repel an Apocryphos. When the platform had reached the top, Allen had still yet to awaken—or perhaps resuscitate. It worried me that he was still not breathing and made me doubt all of my previous beliefs that Allen—Red—was a Noah. Logically it seemed a little weak, but the reactions of the Apocryphos convinced me enough that they could sense the change occurring within him. And instinct also proved it to me. I could not stop from panicking, worrying, could not cease my contact with him. I felt the need to hold him, baby him. I understand the parental need to do these things considering the circumstances, but I do not believe that I would nearly be going mad if not for the addition of Noah instincts. Not to mention…Red had overcome his fears and obstacles and displayed a spark of defiance stronger than needed to become a Noah. He most assuredly nurtured a Noah within now; he cannot die yet. He will return. He will breathe again, soon.

I carried Red all the way to the Ark, garnering attention from the citizens as I passed them, and the Akuma who watched me with shock as I carried what must seem like the bane of their existence. Luckily when people revere you, they hardly stop you to ask questions that swirl within their minds, and so I managed to continue on my way without delay. When I waltzed into the Ark, I found Tyki waiting for me on the steps, the strangest expression on his face. I stopped, since he blocked my way. He sat like an immobile stone, wearing an emotionless expression that I would never have associated with him before.

"Tyki," I said. He looked up at me with the slowness of a slug, and it made me shudder when his empty eyes fell on me, dragging onto the form in my arms. He stared, uncomprehending. And I realized that he had completely shut down. He had undoubtedly swallowed down all of his emotions of grief and anger in order to deal with Neah's aftermath, and that of our family. However, I do not think he could face the reality. He had inadvertently shut off all of his emotions.

"Red," he whispered, rising from his perch, coming to me. He reached out, and when I looked at his face the strangest thing happened. I could see the emotionless mask, and beyond that I could see his crumbling heart. Tears fell down his face.

"We need to move him to a bed, or somewhere flat where we can lay him out," I informed him quickly. He stirred, his eyes regaining some of his spark. He nodded, shutting off his mind again. He turned and beckoned for me to follow. I obeyed, watching the set of his shoulders, concerned about this new Tyki.

We came into the common room, where Tyki began moving the couches and pillows into a temporary bed for his lover's broken body. I carefully set my son down, settling him in a neutral position. Or as near as I could anyways.

"Do you think he is the one?" Tyki asked softly. I glared at him.

"Does it matter? This is Red," I reminded him. "He is important to me. Like he should be to you."

"Do not give me false hope, Mana. If he is the one, I will open again, I will not be…this," Tyki replied. "But I do not think you understand how broken I was when the shock wore off, and I was away from everyone. Without Red, my world is gone. The colors bleed to gray, the sounds become muffled, and there is nothing for me to smile or enjoy..."

My face slackened, suddenly feeling awful for the Noah of Pleasure. Very, very rarely do people find their soul mates. And when they lose them, they lose all other happiness and pleasures of life. Tyki himself is the embodiment of pleasure. If he can no longer feel pleasure or enjoy living…he is nothing. He no longer exists.

"See for yourself," I said softly, unable to control myself. "The Noah know their kin, yes?"

Tyki stared down at Red. Slowly, he lowered himself down by the boy's side, hesitantly reaching out to touch the mangled body. How much he must have shut off to be able to stare at such an awful sight of someone you love. Then again…

Unexpectedly I watched as Tyki's face broke in what was the most human expression I have seen on anyone's face in all of my years, humans included. Never had a person looked so vulnerable or open—relieved and pained. A smile cracked onto his face and a sob escaped him lips. He pressed a kiss to Allen's hand, pressing his forehead to the limb in a display of loyalty and love. Then he lifted himself up once more, with a new energy to himself. We continued on our way, Tyki holding open doors for me, his gaze never leaving Allen. A fear rested in our chests; a fear that—despite the fact he ought to be one of us—he would not reawaken. It was not a fear we could take.

As soon as we entered the common rooms, I set Allen out on the couch. It was too far to carry him upstairs, nor did I want to risk bumping him into the walls, or otherwise hurting him further. His body was already broken enough. Where everyone went, I do not know, but it was likely for the best.

"Go, bring Lulubell here," I told Tyki as I began to lay Allen out on the couch. "We need her hep. She is the best at helping us with transformations. We will need all the expertise she has…"

Tyki nodded, casting one last glance at his heart's body before tearing his gaze away. I set to work loosening Allen's clothes, moving him about to maximize his comfort. I could feel and see broken bones, the way some poked from his body, the way his form looked misshapen. I ignored it as best as I could. For all I wanted to drink in the horror and come to terms with the horrors that had befallen my son, I had very little time to work and do what was necessary. Any moment now, he would resurrect, and his body would immediately try to heal itself. I needed to put everything back in its place.

A sound, the scuff of a boot on the floor caught my attention, and my head whipped around. Neah stood there, just at the threshold of the commons.

"You found him," he whispered brokenly, his eyes tearing up as he took in the sight of the broken body covered in filth and blood. They ran down his face and he began to tremble all over. "I did this, I—"

He deserved punishment. But what punishment could I possibly give him, other than living with the knowledge he had condemned someone? Well…

"Help me set his bones," I ordered him, turning my attention back to the task at hand. I removed Allen's shirt, ignoring the nausea. I told myself this person needed help. I did not know him, nor was his body shattered beyond repair. Instead, I tore the cloth and began wrapping it around his limbs and body to keep the bones in place. "He will resurrect soon, and when he does, setting everything into place will make it easier for him."

Easier. No, the truth is it would make the process quicker for him, so he would not need to suffer longer.

"Get over here!" I snapped when Neah hesitated. He scrambled over, plopping down. I instructed him swiftly. "Push whatever you can into its general place. Do not worry about accuracy; his Noah will correct the minor details. And do not worry about using force. The dead cannot feel, after all."

He went to work, still crying. Still, he worked quickly, and with a little more skill than me. He had some knowledge in the medical field after all.

It took less than five minutes to put Allen roughly into a fit shape for the transformation. Once we finished, I found myself slipping my hand into his as we waited for something to change. I wondered what was taking Tyki so long. Perhaps he was trying to convince Lulubell. In her position, I would also not believe it.

"An hour ago…I held him in my arms as he was dying," I said softly. "I even sang—"

My voice broke off. I had wanted to tell Neah, I had even sang him to sleep. But the words were stuck in my throat. As it was, Neah was choking back too many sobs, holding himself from touching Allen. He deserved it. He truly did. And yet he also deserved to be able to grieve as much as any of us. More so, now that he understands the true consequences of his actions.

Someone was running, and when I looked up, I saw Lulubell darting out of the room, Tyki following closely behind her. He stopped by us, however, and knelt beside us. His mouth tightened upon seeing Neah's hands so near Allen. Then his gaze clouded when he saw both of our hands covered in blood. So much blood.

"Where did she go?" I asked in alarm, ready to rise. "We need her here to help Allen—"

"She has gone to find the First Apostle," Tyki responded soothingly. "Allen needs him by his side. He is Allen's counterpart."

I looked back at my son. That meant Allen was in a frozen state. His transformation would not start without the First Apostle. After all, Noah twins are strange like that. Especially the parts of time.

"Will he wake up?" Neah asked quietly.

"Of course he will wake up," Tyki snapped, glaring at him in offense. I drew in a deep breath, staring at the brutalized, yet peaceful face of Red.

"He will wake up…but when he wakes up…" I paused, eyebrows knitting together. I raised my head and looked Tyki in the eye. He saw my pain and he returned it.

"What is wrong?" Neah asked. "Will he be alright?"

Tyki looked away first, settling on the floor before Allen.

"He will be alright, yes. But Noahs with extremely traumatic pasts are given a choice," he explained softly. I closed my eyes, heart twisting. I wondered what Allen would choose. His path was not any easy one to walk, and he suffered so much—too much. He deserved to be free. Yet the cost of freedom meant—

Not all that was lost can be recovered, I reminded myself, thinking of our relationship. What I had with Allen when he was a child would never exist again. Never. We are too different now, and so much has aged us.

"None of that is important, nor should we worry about it," I said abruptly. "That choice is to be made by Allen and Allen alone. What he chooses to do is his own decision, and we have no control over that."

I nodded towards Neah. "While we are waiting for Lulubell, can you gather the others? The more Noah that are present, the less…the less violent this will be. They can also bring us the supplies we need for the transformation."

"Violent?" Neah repeated uneasily. "I do not recall my own Awakening being violent."

"Your Neah did not need to resurrect you, nor did it need to fix every bone in your body," Tyki snapped. He sighed, reigning in his frustration quickly. "When a Noah's life is at stake, the transformation is quick, and even more painful. Allen is already dead. What he will go through will be unlike anything any of us have ever seen. I fear…it may also happen in only a handful of hours."

::

Adam's POV

I opened my eyes and found myself amongst the buildings of the Vatican. It looked newer than I had ever seen it before. I walked over to the walls of a store where I knew a jewelry seller lived. I touched the wall, marveling at the new paint covering ancient stone. I had never before known them to bare paint. How many years must have passed for this paint to fade, and peel away?

"Mana?" a small voice asked. I turned around and found a young boy with white hair and silver eyes standing by my side. He looked so young. Only eight years old. Yet I knew that to be a wrong assumption.

"I am called Adam," I answered, curious about this peculiar child. I approached the boy, kneeling before him. He kept his gaze on my own. "Do I look like your 'Mana'?"

"Yes, you do," he responded bluntly, with all the confidence of a child. He studied me carefully, eyes wandering over the features of my face. His scrutiny made it clearer, the reason why it was erroneous to assume he was a mere eight years of age. He did not possess the eyes of a child, not the heart of one. "Are you a Noah?"

I laughed at his question.

"I am not a Noah," I assured him. "What is your name child?"

He paused, thinking about the answer to my simple question. But perhaps there is no simple thing about a name.

"It may be Red, or it may be Allen," he said at last. "But I do not think I know who I am yet."

Truly, this is no child, I thought.

"It takes years—no, a lifetime, to know who you are. Your name is what you make of it," I told him warmly. He became even more troubled. After a moment, I gave him a smile. "What name would you like to be called?"

Without hesitation, he answered.

"Allen." I held my hand out to him.

Adam.

"Well, Allen," I said.

Adam.

"It is an honor to meet you."

Adam!

::

I opened my eyes. A grey skinned woman stood at the foot of the bed. No, not stood. She was kneeling. A woman with the sacred stigmata, and eerie golden eyes kneeled at my bedside. I felt a peculiar sense of kinship with her, and from the way she gazed upon me I knew it was not one-sided.

"How do you feel Adam?" she asked. Past her shoulder, I saw my wife standing in the doorway. She looked both fearful and in awe of this stranger. I almost asked who she was, but I felt it a foolish question. Instead I opened my mouth to ask for a name. Pain lanced through my body, and an agonizing fire blazed in my skull. A different word slipped out of my mouth, one colored by worry and sorrow as the image of that little boy emerged through the pain.

"Allen."

Her lips parted in surprise, but not the flavor one would expect. It resembled alarm.

"You saw Allen?" she asked me, rising, planting herself at the edge of my bed. An urgency lit her face, and fear. "How was he? How did he look?"

"I saw a child with the eyes of a man filled with regret and grief and sorrow," I murmured. "He called me 'Mana' in a way that might break one's heart if spoken in places other than dreams…"

Indeed, all of the things I understand now in my waking hours. Allen was so sad, so broken, and so full of emotion.

"You look like Mana," the woman replied. "He was one of my relatives. He adopted Allen many years ago."

"His father?" I asked. The warm smile that had stretched on her face upon recalling the memory disappeared in an instant.

"That remains to be seen," she replied. My wife hesitantly came forth.

"Is there anything I can do to help you two?" she asked, no doubt feeling useless in this situation, as well as out of the loop. I eyed her, confused by the suggestion. For as long I had known her, she had never been one to help people, even feeling uncomfortable. "Will Adam be alright Madam Lulubell?"

Mana. Madam Lulubell. Noahs.

Are you a Noah?

Perhaps…perhaps I am a Noah, like Allen thought. If so, then my wife's uneasiness and willingness to help made sense.

"That also remains to be seen, and since he is connected to Allen, he may not be alright," Lulubell answered. She met my gaze once more. "I am sorry to tell you this, but you are in the process of becoming a Noah—"

My wife gasped.

"—and your transformation will be the worst I have seen," she finished. I closed my eyes as the pain in my body increased. The headache remained, but bearable.

"Why is it the worst?" I asked aloud.

"Because you are connected to another Noah. You two are supposed to transform together, as one. He had an accident, and it triggered the transformation. I am sorry—so very sorry—but it will be traumatic for you both, since his accident fatally wounded him," she told him briskly, the expression in her eyes earnest. Her words sent fear through my heart, a different kind of pain than the physical. It almost had a taste of iron and salt. The woman cast her gaze away for a moment, at war with herself.

"He fell into the Abyss…"

I thought of Allen, the child, and wondered how much pain he had to be in if such a thing did not kill him. Really, it is no wonder his eyes look so old.

"How do I help him?" I asked Lulubell.

"I do not know if you can," she admitted sadly, heartbrokenly. "That child has many demons that he is no doubt haunted by. The time is coming where he will need to make a choice. He…he must choose to wake up. And I fear he will choose not to."

Demons?

"How old is Allen?" I asked her, ignoring the pain as it subsided slightly. It came in waved and ebbs. Like the tug of the ocean.

"Sixteen."

Demons. At sixteen. How cruel this world is, that a sixteen-year-old child is reduced to a haunted being who fears waking up from eternal slumber.

I looked at my wife. She looked back at me with the same question in her yes; where do we go from here? She had always assumed that we would be married for life. But we never loved one another, and becoming a Noah would change everything. Living in this world would become impossible for me.

Life is all about choices. Making them, and affecting the real world. Deciding them, and changing one's perception and heart towards the world.

"Everyone needs to love and to be loved," I told her, my eyes boring straight into her being. "Everyone deserves the chance to find it for themselves, and never let that happiness slip from their grasp. Because at the worst and best of times, it becomes the one rock in the midst of the ocean of reality to which we cling to dear life."

I gave my attention to Lulubell.

"I will do my best to remind Allen of that," I promised her. She smiled gratefully.

"Are you ready to meet him than?" she asked. "Are you ready to part from this life?"

I looked at my wife again. She shook her head, mouthing the word no. She wanted me to stay, wanted our safe and familiar life together. But this is an opportunity for her to find what she unknowingly seeks.

"Yes," I answered. Another Noah came in, no doubt listening from the other side of the room. Two Akuma followed him, carrying a stretcher between them.

::

The Noah, Wisely, helped me when we reached the Ark. The pain in my body increased steadily, and the headache grew into a migraine of unfathomable proportions. Through the pain and half-lidded eyes I saw the beauty of the wonderful Ark, plants that glowed, and clung to the walls in a myriad of colors and varieties. And yet I had no chance to admire, for the closer I drew to the heart of the Ark, the greater my pain grew. When we entered the complex itself, I collapsed, screaming in pain. Tears ran down my face as I curled into myself. My body hurt. It burned. Inside, everything was twisting and scrambling, changing. Even my bones ached and twisted violently. My head too felt holt, like someone shoved a white-hot poker inside it, and repeatedly struck at my skull simultaneously. Tears streamed down my face, blood filled my mouth from biting down on tongue and cheeks. Briefly I saw my look-alike's face. He looked surprised, but he did not let it stop him from helping me. I wept and cried, thrashing if not for curling in on myself. Someone slipped something into my mouth, between my teeth, and it stopped me from biting myself. People carried me deeper into the Ark, and I began to thrash against them. Oh, everything hurt so badly!

We came to the room, and I saw Allen's face, and in a moment of clarity all froze.

He was dead. His body was broken.

And the clarity fell away to agony, madness, and grief.

He fell into the Abyss, Lulubell had told me, and he certainly looked like he had. But she had never said he had died as well. And it made me so angry. Allen was supposed to be here, with me, suffering at my side. We are supposed to be one! We are supposed to be together!

"He is going mad!" someone shouted.

"He will not be conscious for long. Lay him on the floor," a woman commanded. "Put Allen beside him."

I fought against them, but still arms and hands forced me down, and I screamed my way through the pain and agony. Then Allen was before me, and I reached out to him, drew his dead body into my arms, and screamed my misery to the world.

My Noah twin was dead before I had ever had the chance to know him. And that was a cruelty no words could ever describe.

Images flashed before my eyes as waking dreams, so I squeezed my eyes shut, blocking out the images. It was easy to ignore the pain now, and the headache. Easy to focus on nothing. Yet the still form of Allen, the other half of me, was not something I could ignore. Logically, it made no sense. I only met him in a dream, and therefore I should not care for him this much, to feel as if I too have died. But I do.

I screamed and screamed, cursing the world, cursing whatever situation that put him here. I promised vengeance upon everyone and everything that has given him sorrow or hurt him, that has fed his demons, and made him never want to wake up.

I cursed myself for coming too late to save him, and therefore being unable to keep my promise to Lululbell. He was the world I looked forward to. Without him in it, what will I do? What purpose is there?

I fell into the darkness, fell into a realm of madness that no man, being, or Noah should ever venture into.

I fell down down down.