Trinity Blood: Shattered Uniformity

Chapter 11: Deus Ex Machina

Section 3: Overpowered

(In a forest back road of Hispania)

"Ignore him, captain!" Camilla shouted with heavy malice. Until this point, she had managed to ignore most of Leon's foolery, but he had crossed the line.

Having made sure there was no problem, the driver put the vehicle in gear with a few clunks of a big metal shifter. It began to pick up speed again, and soon, the green maze of the forest was passing them on both sides.

"If you do not stop interfering with our operation!" she growled over the churn of the wheels, barely keeping herself from jamming the butt of her weapon into his teeth, "I will be sure to make your interrogation a lot sooner than it was scheduled… no jokes… no laughs… no sexuality at all, there will be body parts that you will be missing, and you will not enjoy it. Is that clear?"

"This isn't a joke!" Leon pled, meeting her eyes with a cold intensity. She met his gaze, and saw that he was being sincere. There was no teasing sparkle in his eyes, or smile on his lips. He looked more… tense and serious. "Please… stop the car." He's begging me.

As she tried to think what he could be worried about, Leon glanced out of the front window nervously, seeing the hanging vines were just thirty yards off.

AX had seen this kind of thing before, and he knew that Camilla would not believe him for an instant if he were to say a Vampire was out there who was manipulating the forest. He needed time to explain.

"Yes, Captain stop the ca-"



She was never able to finish the sentence. A deafening boom sounded as the Troop transport was knocked by a huge force. It hung precariously in the air for a few moments on just half of it's wheels, tipping and groaning in midair, and then it fell to the ground, rumbling over the tangled roots which intertwined with the semi-cleared roadway.

When they finally came to a skidding halt, there was an alarm sounding in the vehicle, one gunner was screaming in pain from a wrist fracture, and smoke quickly filled the cramped interior. Leon found himself beneath a few shocked soldiers, limbs intertwined, and crammed against one of the portholes. He struggled up, dazed by the sudden change in momentum and sensory overload. The others cautiously began to stir, but none as quickly as Leon. He knew if he did not get his weapons soon he would be powerless against the forest outside.

But as he stumbled to his feet, Camilla aimed a gun square at his head, a bit of blood trickled from her scalp. "I'll execute you before your Vatican friends even get close," she growled.

There was a sudden screech of steel as the hatch was ripped, sheering steel, lifting the transport a few feet into the air and then dropping it. Camilla squeezed the trigger as she was thrown. Recovering her balance she saw that she'd hit Leon's kneecap. It wasn't what she had been aiming for, but it wasn't like inflicting a little pain on the bastard certainly wasn't a bad thing.

She readied her aim to finish the job, but before she could fire, she saw a flash of metal in Leon's hands. She instinctively fell backwards as an extremely fast object came right at her, flying sharply through the air. She squeezed off wild shot, which struck the ceiling of the vehicle and rattled inside.

Feeling a sharp jab of pain on her wrist, she saw that whatever Leon had thrown had cut her wrist in a long, deep line, which soon began to gush blood.

"VATICAN DOG!" she screamed in frustration, holding her heavily bleeding wrist. She went for her pistol again, struggling to lift it with her good hand in support. Before she could recover herself, Leon pushed her hands to the ground.

He'd dragged himself across the transport in just a few seconds, even with one completely useless leg, and now a disk-like metal blade was close enough to Camilla's pulsing neck for her to feel it's cold 

presence. Leon's firm hips then locked on her stomach, holding her arms in place. In an instant he could have killed her, but he only breathed heavily, looking into her eyes. She was at his complete mercy.

"It's not the Vatican, but something is attacking us!" Leon insisted darkly.

"Lieutenant! The forest!," one of the soldiers shouted, more concerned about what was going on outside rather than in. "It's coming inside!"

--

(Inside the Pope's Quarters, in the Vatican)

Alessandro first felt like he'd made a mistake when he came to his lessons. His free time was already extremely limited with all the work he was expected to do. But after he had his second lesson, Alessandro found himself missing the warm feelings he got during the hour-long periods.

Sister Pamela had it worked out with Mary, the mistress of the Vatican nunnery, so that every time there was a class, Pamela would have a legitimate excuse to attend, or at least be in the same area in a way that wouldn't arouse suspicion.

He wasn't sure if he enjoyed it more, or she, but he knew that they enjoyed it for different reasons. In his situation, not only as a vampire, but also as the Pope, he was not allowed to hold certain feelings for the nuns In his employ.

The only reason she enjoys any of this is because I'm slightly engaging… maybe because these lessons interest her and I am the avenue to these lessons. It has nothing to do with any real desire to develop a deeper relationship with me.

"Your holiness," Pamela said, snapping him out of his reflection.

"Yes?' Alessandro asked with concern. She always was so light and spontaneous, yet her mood now did not reflect it. Most other days, her smile remained steady, but her restless creativity kept the reasons 

for her smile in constant limbo. For the moment, though, she was displaying the closest thing to seriousness he'd seen.

He had retired to his study after the lesson, tired from lack of sleep. Sister Pamela was still wearing her nun's robes, and was probably assigned to research in the Vatican palace's personal library, which held writings form all the major historic writers.

"You told me to tell you if you did something wrong. Even a little thing," she said, shy at first. Alessandro nodded, beckoning her to continue. "I noticed something. When Paris was telling us about the shading lines. You were drawing them too rough. They stand out too much in the picture."

"Oh? Show me," Alessandro requested. He'd saved his sample from the earlier lesson, and dug it out form a few papers. Taking a small pencil, he began to shade, slowly dancing the pencil back and forth so it made a fine, dimming pattern.

"No…" she whispered, "like this."

She leaned in and put her hand on Alessandro's. He could feel her warmth invigorate his cold, pale skin, which had still not fully died and been renewed in his rebirth as a vampire.

Her gentle hands shivered a bit, slackening their grip, but she soon secured them again, letting their warmth burn against Alessandro as she guided his hand more gently, helping him draw a very smooth set of lines.

"Your hands are so cold," she finally commented as she continued to help him draw.

Alessandro suddenly felt a burning sensation, a sudden unease rising in his gut. "That's how I am. I'm not warm like you," he said back. Almost wanting to shut himself away. For that moment he never wanted to see her again.



"I can warm them up for you," she said intensely, looking into his eyes. She could see the indecision in his blinking eyes, cutting back and forth like cuts of pain in his heart. He was in terrible pain, and he needed someone who could help him.

Alessandro finally turned his gaze into hers, relaxing in her comforting grip. "Do you really think so?" he asked breathlessly. He wanted to trust her, but if she didn't meet him halfway, Alessandro knew the pain would probably be too much to bear.

"I want to…"

--

(The fight within the ruins of the Queen's palace)

"Ahahaha"

Cain began to laugh as Abel swung his fists repetitively, striking Cain's face, and each time coming back wet with his blood.

"HAHAHAHAHHA!"

He'd propped Cain up against the wall with his foot and was now beating him, fueled by what seemed to be an endless torrent of rage, but it had been many minutes now. Nothing much had changed.

Abel stopped for a moment, huffing.

"This is amusing, brother!" Cain said with a bloody smile.

Frustrated, Abel picked Cain up by the scruff of his bloody white robes, and threw him across the room, materializing a scythe in his hands. "DIE!" Abel cried out, swinging downward.

Strangely, Cain did not dodge or move, and it sank into his stomach. But as Abel tried to pull it up and strike again, he found that it was locked in place. Cain had grabbed the scythe and was holding it in his clenched gut. "You can't kill me like this, brother." Abel pulled up again, his arms shaking with exertion, but Cain just held the weapon steady.

"We've both merged 100. We've both lost our debilitating human or Methuselah compunctions." Cain grunted a little to keep it in place as Abel attempted again to fling him off. "what was ever there to begin with. We're something greater now."

"I'm not like you!" Abel said, still struggling with the weapon.

"Is it not strange that you gave your innocence to your nanomachines darkest whims to protect innocence?" Cain mused, "No, we're very close, you and I. We're different sides of the same coin. If I had allowed myself to be weakened by her, by her sentimental foolishness, I would be the same poor wreck you are now."

"NO!" Abel screamed. Electricity sprang from him, sparking with white-hot tendrils, grasping the entire area around him. The bolts set fire to carpet and wood, and singed the very air, but In a little circle around Cain, no electricity penetrated, mapping out the outlines of an invisible shield, behind which, Cain was smiling.

Abel's eyes opened wide when he realized it.

Deus Machina, God from the machine, lowered down for the audience to see. This play had just a single overpowering character that had yet to be introduced, one that would change everything. The name of this God was… Thurman Hubert.

Cain pulled himself up Abel's scythe, until they were face to face. To Cain, Abel looked dumbstruck, just like the time the poor Vatican Nun had left him speechless in the face of his power. Cain lifted his hand, ready to deliver the same finishing blow.

Three months before, Abel had been raiding this same storage area, having smelled some fresh food. In the wreckage that now surrounded him, he could remember exactly how the room once looked. Unable to open the steel, reinforced door, but incredibly hungry, Abel had attempted to kick a hole in the wood wall just to the left of the door itself. (As to reach through and unlock it)

But he'd been stopped.

Poor Thurman, a butler on the floor screamed that Abel would blow up the entire building. Little did he know at the time, that there was a series of bombs in the building that would be used to self destruct it. Abel had nearly punched his way into this bomb, which if cut off from the network by one severed wire, would explode.

With all the mice about, it didn't make sleeping in the palace very easy.

This little fact meant nothing by itself, considering Cain's shield… but…

"Let me join you brother," Abel whispered.

Cain stopped, his hands hovering right at Abel's stomach ready to pull the life-ending trigger. Yes, Cain thought. Let him join me willingly. His nanomachines will be mine, and he will live within me as an equal. They'd fought for so long, but Cain had always known that in the end, Abel would come to him. I was always the stronger one. He unfolded his angelic wings and flawless features came together in a warm smile.

Cain's invincible shield of condensed air dropped around him as he reached forward towards Abel's Jugular vein. He moved his mouth up to Abel's pale neck, the nanomachine-ridden Crusnik blood pulsing just beneath the surface. He moved in slowly, tenderly, like a lover with a devilish grin.

Abel watched his brother, feeling his hot breath descend upon his neck. Feeling each moist breath as he bared his fangs, and then the hot presence of his fangs as they sunk into his flesh, releasing a torrent of 

Abel's blood into Cain's waiting mouth. Cain's arms locked around him in a solid embrace.

He gulped, and licked his tongue against Abel's neck as it poured out, directing the gushing flow. Abel felt weak, fell to his knees. Cain fell with him.

Then, as his vision began to fail, Abel stirred his right arm, the one which held his materialized scythe. Cain felt the movement too, but ignored it in the ecstasy of his triumph and his new power. Abel could not stop him now, he hadn't the power to do any damage, and Cain could already feel a new energy flowing through his veins.

Abel locked his eyes on the crushed indent on the wall. Cain had dropped his defenses to make his unholy union with him. This joining was the only thing Cain absolutely had to entrust his body to. Now was the only opportunity anyone would have.

Abel struggled with his weak wrist, pulled the scythe back so it fell back to him loosely, and then with all his strength he swung it at the hole in the wall. "LILITH!" he called out.

A wave of fire streaked over him. He felt Cain finally break his fangs from him and look up calmly to see that he was completely washed over by flames. A black figure in the swirling heat, Cain rose to his feet, from where he had been shielding Abel from the fire, and then Cain's shadow melted into dust.

Abel felt his own flesh bubble and sear with indescribable pain. Whatever tears he shed evaporated instantly in the blaze.

Seconds later, he was gone.

His body, his conscious, his very soul scattered in the blaze in the form of little nanomachines, the unholy essence of his being. But, for the time, his body was no more.

--

(Outside the Palace of Albion)

The crowd fell silent as Esther finally emerged from the smoking ruins of the palace, helped along by three men, her regal dress soaked in blood, and her soft face broken and lacerated. She walked, conscious of their fear, and gazed over them through cloudy eyes.

For the last few steps to the stage, she shrugged off her assistance, and stumbled to the podium, holding on with her shivering hands.

The crowd held their breath in anticipation as she opened her mouth to speak.

"Thank you all for your assistance," she said slowly, getting her bearings on the stage. No sooner had she finished when silence swallowed the place again.

"I have many to thank for what we accomplished here today, finally purging the enemy from within ourselves… but there are a lot of people that deserve credit who you all probably would not expect. Vampires from the New Human Empire like Astaroshe Asran and Vatican agents like… Abel Nightroad," she began breathing raggedly and blinking in an attempt to hold back the tears.

She'd found what was left of his scorched ashes by his pendant. There was little else that remained of his body from what had occurred there.

I love you Abel, she thought, overwhelmed by the tragedy of what had happened. If only we had met in more peaceful times, we could have been together. But we both had our duties.

"Both have passed away… along with countless of our countrymen…" she nearly broke down again, but fought to compose herself.

"Don't think of them," she called out hoarsely, tears still fresh on her face "as vampires or foreigners. Think of them as comrades… as our friends, brothers, companions…"



Standing in the crowd, Jacob murmured his agreement.

"We have a long way to go, and we need to be open minded. Hatred and strife will accomplish us nothing except more violence. We need to move forward."

Esther felt her words tumble out senselessly as she got disoriented. She just couldn't think of a way to inspire or move them. She didn't have the heart for it.

"Thank you all."

She stumbled away, and dragged her feet towards the waiting doctors, ready to collapse. Her spirit was sucked dry, and her feet were sore and bruised.

She wanted to lie down, and never rise again. "Abel…" Even as the roaring applause erupted behind her, she couldn't feel like she'd changed anything, or that she ever had.

--

(Inside the royal Palace of Albion)

"I'm sorry Astaroshe… I missed it." Seth knelt next to the Duchess, examining her wounds. They were beyond treatable. She was gone.

"You could always be there for Abel in a way I couldn't be." She ran a single finger through Astaroshe's dyed-red -hair with her own small, childlike hands.

"He deserved you."

Note: This is not the end. There is one more chapter to follow, in which a lot of things will be resolved. As much as I love tragedy, I couldn't leave this series on a note like this.