Identity quest 15
"Arise!" an armour-clad foot violently collided with his side, Rousing Flynn from his exhausted sleep. "Finally, ye sleep like the dead, boy. Don't be too hasty 'bout yer eventual demise, it'll come soon enough."
Right...that voice, the accent. "D...Dadga." Flynn greeted as he caught his useless breath. He could feel one of his ribs moving. "What time is it...where's Is...Shesha?"
The skeletal god leered down at the dishevelled samurai. " Of course you'd want to know where he is, ye snake charmer." Dadga sneered.
Now, after passing a whole month in Tokyo, Flynn had gotten acquainted with plenty of slurs and interesting figures of speech. Being a snake charmer was the last thing he wanted to be called.
He got off from the ground, using his power to heal his broken ribs.
He heard Dagda clicked his tongue...that he apparently still had. "If I were you boy, I wouldn't waste my energy on something so trivial."
"How bad is he?" Flynn wearily asked. He could feel his magic reserve to be back to more or less full, despite the titanesque task of healing Issachar...
Shesha was Issachar, YhVh was not God and the real one had the form of a half-lion half-man and his servant was a young demon who predated human civilization...
'What else? Flying mountain? A walking plant?...the ancient price of Japan leading the Samurai of Tokyo to Victory? I get married to a black cat?' For all Flynn knew, it could very well happen.
Dadga made a gesture with his head, and walked out, his thrall following him.
Eventually, they arrived at the room Iku...Nyarlathotep was in. And he could already smell the blood and the bile.
Flynn sighed, wishing for Navarre to be around. Even if he and the fallen Samurai didn't have the best of relationship, he was still a friendly face among enemies.
'I'm...truly alone now.' Then, he felt a powerful presence behind him.
'No...you are never alone my friend.'A voice...a deep, fatherly voice shaming YhVh's own addressed him for but a moment.
Then Dagda roughly pushed him inside the room. There, Yuki was on the floor, struggling to breathe as his blood drowned him.
Flynn closed his eyes and kneeled beside the dying man. And began healing him.
"So...rough night too?" he asked Yuki. Trying to strike a conversation...or to fill the dreaded silence.
No words, just his laboured breathing.
Thirty-minute passed before Flynn was confident enough that his action of moving the dying youth would not kill him.
There, Flynn went to the bathing area and took what was needed to clean him off from the blood and bile. 'His stomach's empty...' And he had nothing this poor soul could eat.
Flynn let out a frustrated sigh...praying to the lion-man for a miracle.
"Oh, my God!" Radha-Shyamasundara hissed as she openly stared at the new Shesha from behind what used to be a train car. "This thing...It ain't the cute Sriracha Noodle I had to half-kill yesterday."
They had followed the screech of the radar, Krishna-Kripa had been horrified. Mukhara was unsurprised but definitely not happy about the turn of event. And Radha? Radha was mildly annoyed...
That was until she met the brand new Shesha...now as green as boiled spinach and not flaming...
The radar said it was Shesha, his aunt said he smelled like him and Mukhara confirmed that he had the same 'voice'...but he sure didn't look the same. 'Krishna, how can this thing even be called Shesha, he doesn't even have a thousand hoods.'
"And my brother would never dare appear to the world like this monstrosity, "Krishna spoke from Within Krishna's heart. "As the King of the Naga Race, Shankarshana is most beautiful and handsome. Unlimited Young Naginis, more stunning than the pious girl of the earthly plane, worship the effulgence of his ruby shaming toenails. King Solomon worshipped and praised him with all of his heart, his eloquent description pleasing Me and all sages... this... the thing is offensive, hideous. It's the most offensive of form I had the misfortune of seeing. This defeat how unfortunate King Indra becomes when covered in a thousand Yonis." The lord of countless universes spat, utterly and completely disgusted by the mockery in front of them.
Taking another look at Shesha...or whatever the hell this thousand eyes humanoid snake thing was and he couldn't help but to half-agree. 'Krish...yeah, he's not the nicest to look at. But at least he's not a magma hydra with a cow skull for heads.'
God paused. "Touche."
The son oh Yuthika and Mukhara smirked...he had been useless during the previous fight due to the heat pouring off the flaming abomination...but now?
'Not gonna escape me this time worm.'
No...he didn't like killing demons but...well
Oh, Alright...So he loved a good challenge...he loved to fight, it was in his nature. And he knew he could get very sadistic when it came down to it.
It felt wrong...and yet he couldn't help it. But now aware of his legacy, Krishna-Kripa now knew why he was like a demon.
'Genocide is just a game...yeah mom, maybe to you.'
"Kripa?" Mukhara addressed him, having heard his terrible desires. "My dear son, Yuthika's not the only one with those aggressive desired." she gave a wry smile. "I...the Body I'm in belong to the warring cast, we are warriors..."
"Yeah but...how about that thing about being non-violence and all that?" He asked, Shesha...or whatever it was right now was slithering in a circle, apparently fighting against himself to hunt for more bodies to eat.
"Do you remember Krishna's best friend in Dwarka?"
"Ah..you mean Udu...dudi..."
"No, I'm not talking about Udhava Mahashaya but Sriman Arjuna."
"Ah...right." While Kripa's memory of his past may be back, it was imperfect at best and Missing years at worst.
"Arjuna's the one whom Krishna spoke the Gita to on the battlefield of Kurukshetra,"Mukhara explained, keeping a sharp ear on the oversized snake-man. "And Arjuna was also a warrior...not a philosopher. And as a warrior, he killed trillions."
"To be a warrior means that you do not feel disgusted by the act of killing those who deserve the blade, you even feel pleasure in act of righteous violence." Mukhara explained. " and as long as you do it in service to Krishna and following the orders of a bonafide Guru, then no sins are involved."
"So if God told you to kill someone, you would do it?" Kripa asked.
"Yes...but Krishna's mood is not about killing demons anymore...outside I mean." she spoke with a smile. "It's to save them."
"Save them?" Kripa raised a brow.
"Yes...As Sri-Krishna-Caitanya Mahaprabhu, his mission is to kill the demoniac propensity that's nestled deep in our heart."
"Yeah K.K." Radha slid into the conversation. "'cus if we had to kill all the demoniac people, the earth would be pretty empty by now."
"Yeah, OK...But how about...err." The greenette didn't want to call the Kaiju Shesha, it was an insult to the real one.
"Pasta-Verde."
"Paste-Verde, what do we do about him? Kill, don't kill?"
Mukhara took a hard look at the now green snake, listening to his desires most likely. "I don't know...he has no desire to fight, and yet if programmed with a high aggression value."
"Meaning?" Hoshi asked, reminding everyone of his and Nozomi's presence.
"Meaning he doesn't want to kill anyone...but he has no choice in this matter.
"So we fight then." Nozomi spoke as she removed the safety of her gun and loaded the barrel with her strongest rounds.
Kripa unhooked his shovel and sent yet another prayer to the lord that he may be his weapon. Inside, the thrill of the fight awaken.
The actual reason he hated to fight was the fact that Krishna-Kripa had always been tired due to his poor constitution. But now that his mother and aunt made sure his stomach was filled with something else then over-glorified blue water...
Oh...may his awakened blood lust be of use to his Krishna. For he now had the perfect target.
The Titianesque snake had already consumed a quarter of the Ginza's Population of demons and humans, it was only due to Fujiwara's leadership and the respect he commanded that all the hunters in and around the area had managed to evacuate as many civilians they could.
And the Crusaders had helped, naturally gravitating to the charismatic Mukhara, leaving Gaston to call them all eunuch for siding with a woman.
It was only due to t Mukhara's mercy that he was alive.
Right now, Mukhara's team were the only souls in five kilometres...
Mai, despite being marked as a traitor, had been willing to warn the angels to stay away from the beast, the Lord having send his most elites of warriors. Medusa had done the same with the demon. Her message more or less the same.
Skin was nearby, he and his teams were ready to assist the overly powerful family were things to turn sour.
"Alright...this is earlier than expected." Mukhara muttered as she unsheathed the Ame-no-Habakiri.
"what do you mean by that?" Kripa asked.
"I managed to decode some of the scenarios our Hermit laid out for you...this should still be the flaming Hydra and not the Naga version of king Indra." She informed her son. " You should be one holding the Ame-No-Habakiri, or it's upgraded version, and Gaston's supposed to be one of your support, his spear is programmed to damage Shesha more than a usual weapon. And Asahi would be there also."
"Well, we don't have that now, do we?" Thank Krishna His sister was safely under key...
and then...it hit him...'Krishna told me he would keep her safe...He held his promises.' While Krishna-Kripa now realized how overbearing his sister Had been. He still loved her dearly...from further away this time. "So...what does it mean for us?"
"It means the beast is much less threatening than it should for you." Mukhara addressed her son. "still don't get cocky about it, the Admin of this place may have rigged the game differently now."
Despite himself, Krishna-Krpa bristled. "And how about you?" he shot back.
"Short of having my phylactery atomized...or hearing Lord Hari's flute, noting can kill me."
"And I still have a few life yet...like...five I think?" Radha-Shyamasundara stated as she rubbed her chin. "Anyway, If I die serving Mukhara, there won't be much lost."
"We would all miss you though." Mukhara reminded the powerful hellcat.
"Mah, yah won't havta wait long...were all going at the same place anyway." The Kasha stated as she got up. "A'ight, enough Chit-Chat, let's free this soul from his prison."
They got up to Shesha, Mukhara and Radha was at the front, and Kripa followed them.
He could not feel any heat rolling of the great serpent, meaning that actually being useful in a fight that mattered would not be an impossible fantasy.
The monstrous snake took notice of the small groups and turned to them, lowering himself as close to the ground as possible.
Kripa and Nozomi held their weapon at the ready, and Hoshi had his thumb over his smartphone screen, ready to call to Chironi'pu at a moment's notice.
Mukhara gestured them down...not yet.
The Indra-like Naga inspected them all, his forked tongue flickering in and out of his lips.
Then...he spoke, the unnatural movements of his lips and tongue unsettling Krishna-Kripa more than what he would've liked.
"You...are...the one who...Killed me." The beast stilted words echoed in the celestial vault. "You...cat..."
"No, I didn't...I half-killed you." She protested. "I would've fully killed you if not for Mukhi's protest...and why did ya stopped me from killing the red shoelace Mukhara, look, the things back now...and green!" she dramatically gestured at pseudo-Shesha.
"I didn't want to you change the pace too much."
"Well... too bad for that." She huffed, leaning on her semi-full cat-cart.
"You...gave me...strength...power..." The snake hissed. "I was...reborn...remade..."
Suddenly, 'Shesha gripped his head as he loudly hissed in pain. Trashing around, he sent piled of sharp pebbles and train track segment onto hunters and Vaishnava's alike.
Mukhara and Radha dodge the debris while Kripa simply batted them away.
Yuuka was his mother, and she was considered a very powerful Yokai...and that didn't count her magic.
She could clone herself, and it was clear the seed she had given to Mukhara had been a second body.
This body...He was in it. and if this was the cloned body of Kazami Yuuka...
Kripa punched an I beam away from Hoshi and Nozomi, careful not to let the flying piece of bent metal strike anyone. His true power awakening...
the rush he felt...oh, he hope It was Krishna being pleased with him.
The Naga stopped his destructive spasm. Slowly getting off from the ground as he breathed heavily, filling the area with poison. "Fight...kill..."
"Save Flynn..." he begged as his body moved to strike the group.
Kripa made a face as he got his gas mask on, hoping the filters were not clogged. He worriedly looked toward his mother and aunt, both women seemed unconcerned by the miasma. Unlike Nozomi and the rest of those who needed to breathe.
Shesha lunged at the small family, aiming for Radha-Shyamasundara with a hatred born of vengeance.
All moved out of the way, Mukhara grabbing her son by the back of his shirt as she flew away from the Naga's bloody red claws. Kripa used this opportunity to shoot some elemental shots at the beast...and none made his flinch.
'Aw crap...no weakness.' He conveyed to his mother and aunt as such.
"Yeah. Figured as much." Radha growled. "Alright kitty, time to chomp a snake!" she gave a war cry...lunging for the snake-like beast.
But the snake, his reflex as sharp as his intelligence, struck her down from the sky.
"Foolish...daughter of Bastet."Shesha hissed. "I know your trick...this won't work agai-" He was interrupted by Mukhara cutting the side of his neck as she flew past him at high speed, the ame-no-Habakiri glowing with Shesha's blood. The saint in pink and purple took flight again, her smirk clear as the air sparkled around her.
Once again, Shesha tried to swipe her away, but Mukhara, hearing his desire dodged all of his blow before unleashing her own Danmaku.
Kripa may not have seen from what game she was from, but one thing was for sure she was definitely a boss. No stage four girls he knew used that much fancy Helix lasers, paper talisman and bullets of purple light.
Pelted by pellets of purple light, Shesha coiled onto himself all of his eyes shit to protect them from the purple rain. Mukhara rushed at him with the Ame-no Habakiri, confident that she could strike the beast. but the snake, now smarter for some reason, whipped her out of the sky...just as his aunt.
Mukhara bounced off the ground twice and Kripa's heart stopped. Both impacts were powerful enough to kill a man five-time.
On her second bounce, Mukhara recovered, hovering in the air as she, very much annoyed, re-hooked her Shaku and took the Habakiri out. She then leered at her son.
Krishna-Kripa understood the message and aimed at Shesha.
In his heart, he prayed to his Krishna that he may have the strength to defeat those desiring to harm those dear to Him. And if he were to die again...
'Krishna...I know it's a bit much to ask but...could you become my mom's son?'
Shesha screeched, and struck at Krishna-Kripa with his sharp claws. It seemed as if a thousand snakeheads were trying to strike him dead where he stood. 'time to move...God, I wish I could fly.' He'd seen his mother and aunt decimate oodles of mooks in less time than setting up a shot would be. Always moving, darting around the battlefield like a pair of fighter planes of old. And when all else failed?
Devastating spell cards.
Never in his life did Kripa expected to see two powerful Touhou girls fight in real life, free from the graphical and hardware limitation of the top-down shooter.
It was...beautiful, terrifying and...very effective when focused on a single, building-sized target.
Also, thank God he was not the one facing Kaenbou Rin this time.
Kripa fount some debris, and hiding behind it, began to hit the fake throne of God with whatever he could. But whatever he chose, the damage he did was no better than shooting some fire-cracker at a Venus eagle.
Suddenly, he felt a body crash beside him, it was Nozomi and a few curses under her breath.
"I can't do shit!" She cursed as she grabbed one of her last instant death round. "Our green giant's not cooperative today." she glances at Kripa from the side of her gas mask. "How bout you? Any luck?"
"Chip damage." he sneered distractedly. He could see the many samurai in white sending out demons and using all the magic attack they could, not causing a scratch on Shesha's new body. On the side, Hoshi and Chiro were buffing and debuffing the hell out of everyone. And Kripa had to wonder why his ex-boyfriend didn't want to use his 'divine' attributes yet.
Unlike Kripa, Hoshi never had to deal with malnutrition since the Nephilim could thrive on demon meat...and red pills.
"Aha! Got that sucker!" Nozomi's triumphant cry broke Kripa out of his musing/shooting random shot at what amounted to a concrete wall. "Aim for his eyes!"
"Are you sure? I've been aiming at 'em for like...ages and nothing makes him flinch." he informed her.
"No, I saw snake boy eyes blink."
"Nozomi, it means-" then he heard a sound he never wanted to hear...
His mother screaming.
In the Chaos of neon coloured bullet, demons, poison gas, Gaston's crusaders and Radha's army of illusory dead fairy, Mukhara had been caught by Shesha claws.
And she could not get out.
"you have to save her."
he had to save her.
"Shit" Nozomi cursed...and she gave a saltier curse when Krishna-Kripa jumped out of their hide and out in the open, running faster than he thought he could.
Mukhara was struggling in the beast's grip, her shakku unavailable and the Ame-no-Habakiri lying uselessly on the ground.
Krishna-Kripa ignored the fallen sword, his faith in his shovel stronger than what he could have over something called Excalibur.
Then...seeing that his mother was too high to reach, Kripa jumped and flew.
For a moment, he felt his acrophobia acting up. But he squashed it down faster than he could understand. And faster than what he had tough, he was standing on Shesha's closed fist, his Mother's upper body hanging limply from it, her face pale.
She was not breathing.
Kripa dimly heard Shesha hissed as Radha managed to pull herself up from the rubbles that had entombed her, sending out claw-like bullets to the snake as she jumped to his face, clawing out as many eyes as she could.
Kripa took his shovel-blade, and with the force of desperation plunged it in Shesha's wrist, trying to cut out tendons...even ripping away at fingers.
The demon screeched as he shook his hand off, trying to dislodge Kripa, the Vaishnava hold on despite the violent whip-like movement of the snake. He kept carving the flesh away until he could rip the thumb and forefinger off. He grabbed the limp form of his mother and...
Shesha threw the mother and child duo with a copious amount of blood as far as he could, his mangled limb now rendering him an easier target.
As Krishna-Kripa and his mother flew into the toxic air, the Vaishnava called out to his Krishna.
If this was how they were supposed to leave those bodies...to die, then better he remembered his dear Krishna. So at he may return to him.
Suddenly, the pain in his back became mind-numbing...and it split open, something burst out and...
He was flying... somehow, whatever had been there was enough to stabilize him and...by Govinda's mercy, he was gliding in the air at high speed. Dodging buildings and demons as he dearly prayed for his mother to survive.
Suddenly, he swerved, and the next thing he knew, he...painfully landed on the roof of a building, bouncing a few times until he fell off that roof to another somewhat lower building, rolling on the gravelled ground as he tried to protect the sacred body of Mukhara.
Eventually, he came to a stop...
Then he realized...someone was holding him... someone who's fragrance purified the three world, who's soft body held innumerable universes, who's lotus feet were sought after by the great Yogi's meditating in the hidden caves in the Himalayas...
It was the thief of his heart...the one who took his mind away...
Krishna...Krishna had once again saved his servant...with his own body, no less.
His Krishna had taken the hit for him again...
And then...He was gone leaving behind but his amazing fragrance and the delicious agony of separation.
He fainted.
"Hmm...Krishna...Krishna..." Mukhara mumbled as she regained consciousness, berating herself for having for being overconfident.
Needless to say, Mukhara could (and did) survived being dismembered, poisoned, stoned and hit by a slew of moving objects, but eaten...not so much.
While she would change her body, it would make her returned son an orphan again...
'My son! Oh Krishna he must be-" This brought Mukhara to complete external consciousness, and she realized someone was holding her...
Now more than a little confused and deeply unsettled, the saintly hermit opened her eyes and...
She was in Krishna-Kripa's arms...and for a moment, she thought he had died.
'No...no...oh Krishna, he's not dead...Mukhara, K.K's not dead...I can hear his heartbeat, he's just sleeping...' She let out a sigh as she tried to hold her son closer as waves of emotions threatened to capsize her.
But...the only thing she had left was her silver nerves...Mukhara's hermit attribute.
Just as Futo, now Gauri had an affinity with fire and Tojiko –Tulasi- could generate lightning and...that person had an affinity for poison and their effect. Mukhara had control over precious metals.
She had learned that fact after she had lost her limbs to the infection, and one of the ways Eirin had gotten rid of the fever and the infection was with the use of a medicine made of copper, silver and Gold. The next thing Mukhara knew, she had liquid metal tentacle growing out of her barely healed stump.
It made controlling her prosthesis that much easier, she could even feel to some extent...
And it made auscultating her son's body that much easier and...
'Oh God...Oh Krishna...Oh, Bhagavan!' He was mostly unharmed...despite everything. Just some scratches and bruises...nothing more.
She wrapped her Glorious son in what was left of her limbs and held him close...on his back, she could feel four mangled wings, four fronds that were suspiciously the same colour as Tulasi-Devi.
The fact that he had fledged...and that his wings were now but stumps barely registered as yet another detail for Mukhara.
'Oh, my son...oh K.K...You save me again? Why? Why? Why?' The horrible memory of the December book marathon 2017.
"ANANDA! ANANDA!" Mukhara sobbed as she held the broken body of her friend. Ananda's face was shredded to pieces, one arm was gone and her lower body had been twisted off, pulling out the numerous component that made her work. she was filthy, covered with hydraulic oil, dirt from the road and Mukhara's rivers of tears.
They had met but a month prior, and she and the astonishing soul in a clockwork body had become fast friends.
Ananda was her elder in devotion, having joined in 2010 and initiated in 2012 by Raghanuga swami.
She loved her Guru, a sentiment Mukhara could easily share.
When Miko, on the order of her Guru, the very same Raghanuga swami, had returned to Japan to help with the temple renovation, the experience had left her shocked and disoriented.
Gone were the horses, the samurai and the rich culture, Nihon had been transformed into an Asian flavoured American state...just like Hawaii.
Her palace was a tourist attraction, temples were replaced with churches and those that remained were no better than weekend getaways and loud cars, trains and advertisements now filled the street where once trees and birds once reigned.
There were no wars among clans...but Mukhara could hear plenty of unfulfilled desires...she could see the homeless in the streets and the ghost of her overwrought citizen burning in the sun, unable to get any relief.
Beautiful Japan...her beautiful state was gone, and what was left was but a concrete, open sky grave.
When she had finally arrived in the Radha-Govind temple, she had practically collapsed at the feet of Prabhupada, her poor ears were still buzzing with the chaotic, noisy hell that was Tokyo...the sight, the sound...the passion and ignorance that controlled the place, the ghost, the desires of its population...
She wanted to go back to India, to her adopted Family of saintly Ruskies and her Bengalee granny and the love and peace that was there.
Then...an angel descended from the upper floor. Dressed in a reddish sari, and her body mechanical in nature.
And yet, this robot had treated Mukhara as a person... and her only desires had been to serve her Guru and Krishna.
It was Ananda-Rupini.
This elder Devotee had shared her room with Mukhara, and while she had asked some questions, she didn't pry too much into who Mukhara was and why Tokyo had caused her to have a mental breakdown.
They spoke, she learned who Ananda was, and soon, both women became close friends.
Both would serve in the temple, Ananda was a Pujari, a priestess serving on the altar, but her true passion was book distribution, something she could not do anymore due to her failing body.
A human body could fix itself, but her body, while almost fully replaceable, didn't have access to those parts, something about not being in contact with the Kijiro group and how her project had been defunded.
Mukhara, having being elevated to the Buddhist god of carpentry was already planning for a way to Fix Ananada's failing body. She had made the sketch and, with Ananda's permission, had gotten a good feel as to what she needed.
Time went by, and their friendship became a fact in the temple, Mukhara would always sit with her at Prasadam, and the two women would talk about Krishna, Ananda's amazing past and her adventure with a boy named Yuki, a dog named Koromaru and a few others.
The saintly hermit had been more than a little inspired by Ananda's dedication to Guru and Gauranga, she was ready to give her life to Krishna's devotees and His divine service...
which is what she did...on that night of December...
Mukhara held her as she...as the Robotic body she was in ceased to function, the damage received too extensive for the already fragile frame.
She had heard the driver's desire to run them over, she had heard the motor of the infernal machine go into high gear and she...
Mukhara knew she would not make it out without flying...not that being hit by a car would kill her.
Ananda-Rupini did not know about that fact...she pushed away Mukhara, but her knee joint locked...
Ananda reached up, what was left of her fingers gently caressing Mukhara's face.
Then she asked...she asked Mukhara to be her mother with her dying breath...
...she could still remember the horrible sound of her son suffocating, his lungs having suddenly stopped.
She could remember the ambulance ride as the paramedics did their best to keep him breathing...
It was a mother's worst nightmare made a reality, especially for one who had required divine intervention to finally conceive one son.
Her only son...
The only surviving child born or her...
Krishna-Kripa was the Lord Mercy in every sense of the word.
Ananda-Rupini, reborn in a body that was more a plant than an animal. A friend she had failed to save. she, a Ksatrani...a warrior...
She could not even chant the holy name to her baby boy as he seemingly died...and she could not even get closure from casting his ashes to the Yamuna.
Now...fifteen years later...fifteen agonizing years filled with questions only Krishna could answer... she got her baby back, now a young man.
And now...Following his previous nature...Krishna-Kripa, who used to be Ananda-Rupini had once again risked his life to save an immortal.
'What type of mother am I...I can't even consider myself as such, let alone a father!' She felt like an utter failure.
She felt him stir...and she openly sobbed...
"Mom? Mom! Are you hurt? What's wrong?" Her divine son asked as he got up.
Mukhara could not see his face properly, her glasses long gone to Krishna knew where.
"Oh, f-fudge...Mom, mom. Everything's fine..." Kripa held her in his arms...and she broke down.
She didn't deserve him...at all.
Sometime later.
"Alright, this went better than expected considering what happened." Skin Grunted as he debriefed everyone about the second encounter and subsequent defeat of the fake Shesha. "Now, Prince Mukhara, can you explain what the hell happened back there?" he asked the hermit sitting on her Son's lap.
No, after the emotional breakdown she had, Kripa didn't even want to leave her on a chair. Especially after almost getting killed and eaten by Kalia.
Yes, call him overprotective, but no sane ex-orphan wanted to lose their returned parents so there!
Mukhara sighed, all of her wound healed and glasses repaired...only her limbs were still missing. "What happened is...I got overconfident and underestimated the speed of Kalia's limbs." She admitted. "and his strength."
"Yeah...Couldn't even get a bite in, that thing saw trough most of the stuff I could do." Radha Grumbled. "Seriously...it's like he got way faster and smarter than last time."
"He did," Mukhara confirmed. "This was what I feared."
"Explain!" Skin demanded.
"Basically, I and Radha, the moment we came in, have started changing the established Narrative in a way the Administrator doesn't want. Not only that but since our power level is beyond what this hermitage let its inhabitant get, he will scale the bosses according to it."
"Meaning?" Once again, Skin asked with deep apprehension.
"Meaning that as long as I am here and fighting, then...from what I can see, those powerful enemies will be on par with me." she explained with a smile. "But...I don't think this is such a problem."
Skin Stared owlishly. "Explain?"
"We won. Plain and simple, Mister Amada, he was defeated by someone who's not even in the script." she revealed. "Speaking of which...who gave the beast the final blow?" She asked.
Among the crusaders, the very generic and somewhat awkward young man raised his hand bashfully. In the back, Gaston remained quiet.
"It's me sir...ah...Madam?"
Mukhara smiled. "Yes...and you are?"
"Marcel Lavigne Madam." He gave his name, his bashfulness refreshing for one who came from an illustrious family. "But...to be honest, I do believe your son is the one who gave me the opportunity to slay the beast."
Krishna-Kripa's brows reached the top of his forehead. "Really?"
"Yes sir. You see, the damage you did to Shesha's is the reason why I managed to land the fatal blow."
"A blow that should've been mine!" Gaston erupted from the back, his face red.
"Gaston, please sit down." Mukhara commanded.
"AH! Why should I listen to one who failed to retain her composure during a fight!"
Kripa flared his mangled wings...
yes, so he had wings...Yuuka had wings...green and purple wings. But fragile wings that would take time to heal. still, he wanted the idiot to shut his mouth before he would have to be escorted out. "Yo, Gaston. Shut your mouth and sit the hell down before we lose our patience." He warned.
The leader of the crusader had been bitching about Tokyo, the food, Kripa and everything he could, trying to establish that he was better and stronger than everyone else. It rubbed the Dryad the wrong way...
and Yet, Kripa could also smell plenty of anxiety in this young adult. Like the world was on his shoulder.
Yes...Kripa could smell fear and anxiety... apparently, that was his normal.
It didn't change the fact that he was bitching worst the Freddy on a good day.
Gaston, of course, did the opposite. But before he could speak, the other crusaders grabbed him by the shoulder and yanked him back outside. Once out of view, Kripa relaxed his new appendages...they were still painful. The only reason he did not just rip them out was that he could retract them...
'Being a teen is weird' they say, your body will experience changes' they say...no shit, I didn't grow hair, I grew wings.' On top of everything else.
Mukhara cleared her throat. "SO, Sir Marcel...who did you managed to slay the beast?" Mukhara asked with clear appreciation.
"Madam, when your son went to save you from Shesha's clutch, he practically shredded its limb to get you out, and in great pain, the serpent hunched over to try and steam the blood flow...I...I grabbed Gaston's spear and plunged it in his eye."
"Why dis you grab his spear? Why didn't you used yours?" Mukhara prodded.
"I...Thought Gaston would miss again so I took the initiative." He revealed...and Kripa could hear some smugness in his voice. "and would he succeed in his offensive. He would become even more insufferable."
"I see." Mukhara nodded, her eyes narrowing. "Alright, all of you, hit the showers and take rest. We will assault The Tsukiji Hongwanji in five hours for now."
"Five hours?" Skin protested. "But that's too long! We need to strike now!"
"Yes...but Shesha's poison has affected all of you," she informed them. "None of you wore a mask, and I can hear your lungs rattling with mucus and blood. I want you all to get checked up by the healer and have whatever broken, mangled and burn fixed. This is not but a mere raid, this will have an impact on everything. So I need you all at your best!" Mukhara stated. "I also need my limbs repaired and Radha-Shyamasundara is still gathering evil spirits as we speak..."
Skin stared at the mangled woman and then smirked. " Ah...you care 'bout those kids."
She nodded. "I do, I see everyone who serves under me as my own child...and as competent warriors. If a soldier is the be as efficient as possible on the field, he needs to be at his best." then it was her turn to smirk. "You too Ken-kun."
at those words, Skin erupted into uproarious laughter.
Mukhara had planned an attack, they would be a few hard hitters...nothing more.
The plan? Wait for Shesha to appear a third time, kill it again. And once that was done; Entering the Tsukiji Hongwanji like a needle, and exiting like a bulldozer. Mukhara, Radha, and Kripa would be the point, while Hoshi, Nozomi and skin would be the shaft. Gaston was the eyes and the hunters and crusaders the thread of destruction.
Their...they would change gears and the two Vaishnavi, Their son, Nozomi and Skin would chant the holy Names of God, Krishna, to exorcise the dark influence of the utsuro while the now awakened Hoshi (Mukhara didn't leave the Nephilim any choice on the mater) Gaston and the backup team would protect them from any outside interference.
They were aware that the P.A had many hard hitters, and unfortunately, Mukhara couldn't find what or how they had to face during the raid. The other hermit now aware of her meddling had begun hiding his hand...it was both a good and a bad sign.
Still, the plan was simple, it relied on Krishna's mercy instead of the power of individuals, but everyone had a role to play, and all were important.
Time passed...and as Mukhara had predicted, most of the crusaders began to develop symptoms of poisoning.
If they would have left to raid the Tsukiji as early as Skin and Fujiwara would've wanted...none of them would've survived.
Most of them were now in the infirmary, being treated by the healers. And, with fur hours left to go, Kripa was still trying to figure out his wings with all the time it would take to save them all.
He had four of them...and while they held a passive resemblance to angel wings, they were clearly made of leaves. They were pretty, big, cumbersome yet retractable, leaving only four sprouts (creepers, his mother had called them.)
And they smelled rather nice.
It was...something else on top of his resurrection and...reverting else. But by this point, he was done trying to make sense of what was happening to him, trusting that his Krishna knew what he was doing and that everything was for the best.
The dryad was walking along the underground facilities hidden under Fujiwara's coffee shop, the only place he was freed from the offensive smell of cigarettes. This was where the armoury, the medical centre and a guy named Mido lived in an old server that somehow stored demons.
The more he thought about, the less the whole 'can summon demons and demi-gods and other personality through a computer program' sounded bogus. Like, it was not even bullshit at this point, it was hogwash.
Those demi-gods and demons were proud, why would they awns er to an automatic calling machine. Let alone serve for absolutely nothing?
And...common, Shiva, his dear wife Parvati, Garuda were there...but most egregious was Rama!
Rama's an Avatar of Krishna, also known as the supreme personality of Godhead! Not a mere man, To call at one's own whims like one would a prostitute!
The Lord's most beautiful feature is his human pastimes filled with sweetness. But even when as the eternal King of Ayodya, Sri-Rama, or the lovable, mischievous, naughty and drop-dead-and-just-got-revived-gorgeous son of Nanda and Yashoda...even when tied to a rope around his waist. Krishna was still GOD!
And the price to pay top have GOD with you for but a moment...were tears of sincere love. It was to cry for him as if drowning...as if you were a lover whose beloved had been reported missing.
It was to cry for Him... For he was, is and always will be the life of his devotees.
Not through such mundane and mechanical means of a mere app...
Besides, the Demi-gods never appeared on earth anymore. Since no pure Brahmanas were available and the required ingredients for a proper sacrifices were either unavailable, already contaminated or...just not enough for them.
No mantras would work for no one knew how to chant them properly and purely...thankfully, the Hare-Krishna Maha Mantra, the greatest recitation of them all was still as effective and potent as ever.
He should know, having chanted this divine sound vibration for two lifetimes now.
But otherwise, no real demi-gods, and certainly not Avatars of the supreme personality of Godhead would even think about coming down via an automated call, it was downright insulting to them!
Just as how Krishna would never be caught dead in an ugly pair of brown, leather boots. And short hair...
Actually...
'.Krishna's hair's so super soft...I would totally massage his head, less chance to pull on a tangle...*Gasp* can Krishna's hair even get tangle? Does it grow? What's his hair routine? Does He braid it sometime? Could I braid it?' A shudder born or pure bliss overtook Kripa's body as his legs stilled at the thought.
Krishna-Kripa's mental worship or Keshava's hair was abruptly and rudely stopped by the sound of someone retching. 'Urgh...classy....some can't handle demon meat.' Not that he could blame them. 'Better I go check on the guy, don't want a sick dude of the battlefield.'
He walked to where the sound and the smell emanated from. And the closer he got... 'Hey wait a minute...this doesn't smell like half-digested demon meat...it smells like human blood!' and any amount of that regurgitated usually didn't bode well...at all.
He hastened his pace, calling out Mai preemptively...but the afflicted wasn't looking for help it seems, for he was running away...as far as his stomach would let him.
'Oh Krishna, please be merciful onto the poor guy.' Krishna-Kripa began to pray, turning a corner only to find Gaston, leaning against the wall as he clutched his stomach... red blood staining his tabard.
The moment Gaston saw the Dryad, he sneered as he whipped away his mouth and tried to get away, but, still weak from his affliction, he could not get very far, especially since Kripa was holding him up.
His face was a white as a sheet, his lips stained red and his whole body was shaking. He tried to get away from Kripa, but the smaller boy didn't let the ill crusader go, he held him close.
Eventually, the crusader stopped and surrendered...in body, but not in mouth.
"R...Release me...unclean one...urgh." He shuddered. "You...your impure hands are...are chasing the blessings of M...Lord Merkhebha!... Unhand me!"
"Nope, not until Mai can fix whatever wrong with your guts...and were both unclean now Gaston, I sooo need a shower after this." Krishna-Kripa informed the ill man, letting Mai work her magic.
There was some silence, but the green-haired Vaishnava could feel a terrifying amount of tension in Gaston's body...and he could smell the adrenaline and the profuse amount of Co2 from one burp.
And Shesha's poison...like most Samurai, Gaston didn't wear a mask and was now paying the price. not only that, but he was clearly suffering from some fungus in his guts...not a nice experience.
"Hey...hey, it's alright Gaston, Everything fine...I'm here." he spoke soothing words..
Gaston tried to struggle...but the moment he buried his nose in Krishna-Kripa's hair. (Kripa, being closer and holding the crusader in a front hug that resulted in this very awkward position.) He began to calm down.
His breathing became deeper, his tremors calmed down and soon, it felt like Gaston was about to fall asleep.
Kripa helped the taller young man down, making sure to stay clear from the disgusting location.
Sure, he may sometimes indulge in dumpster diving, but he had his limit to how gross he would get.
Both young men leaned on the back wall. Gaston had his eyes closed, his breathing deep and even as Mai's healing hands never left his stomach, her lips pressed in a thin line.
"His entrails has been pierced and the poison hath dissolved some of his viscera, I have indeed healed him, but this youth must be careful about the anxiety he goes through." The angel informed her master, her task done.
"Yeah...I'll tell mom and Skin to let Gaston skip this one."
at those words, the recovering crusader shook his head. "No...No I...I have to participate. I can't...Can't show weakness." he slurred as if intoxicated.
"Yo dude, relax, It's not like we can't replace you." Krishna-Kripa tried to diffuse the situation... "I mean sure, you missed your chance at killing Shesha and...the fraud but, it's not the end of the world."
Gaston closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. "You don't understand...If I...If I can't show my worth as a samurai...My Family will become destitute." Gaston revealed, his voice and whole body relaxed. Despite the heavy and...rather personal subject.
Krishna-Kripa opened his eyes wide. "Wait...what?" This...was being a samurai that...harsh?
"My family...has a stain...my big brother..." he closed his eyes. "He...committed suicide..."
Kripa wince...what was whit him and hanging out with suicidal people and their family.
"He...ran off to here...the land of the unclean...and...his body was...angels found his body in a place called Yoyogi park, in a lac."
"Oh..." Well...learn something new every day. 'Huh...he's awfully talkative now...and... is he...drugged?" Sir Gaston now sounded like Manabu after a blunt or two...
"He had his pants to his ankles."
Krishna-Kripa had no words...simply no words.
"If I don't prove my might...my family will lose their title as Luxuror and will be forced to live on the streets..." Gaston revealed as he leaned onto the much smaller boy...and being a giant compared to the dryad...his nose was once again buried in Kripa's hair. "Marcel's family...they hate mine... for me to...underperform would...their son would ascend and...they would be close to the ecclesial man...close to the Lord...and we would live in the slums..." The crusader in white sleepily mumbled as he snaked an arm around the younger and smaller boy's waist. "Y' smell delightful..."
"err...thanks?" SO Krishna-Kripa was queer, and in normal time what was happening to him would be considered too good to be true...but now?
'OH Krishna, please save your maidservant from this embarrassing situation please?'
"Uh Wish...Wish Navarre didn't become a Samurai...He was my favo...favourite brother...Loved him..."He buried his nose further in the green mass of soft hair. And Kripa swore he would find a clipper and shave his head clean. "Your...art thou and angel? A beautiful...f...flower neglectfully thrown from heaven?"
"Ah...maybe?" Kripa answered, paralyzed in place despite his deep desire to just bolt from there.
It was one thing having his sister do it...even in Adopted father hold him close as they slept without fear. But a complete stranger? Someone who was proud, arrogant and...Not Krishna?
Oh No...Oh hell no!
"thou art...sadly a man... mayhaps we shan't complain, prettily, oh Goddess, may we please remain in your embrace? " Gaston elegantly managed to slur as his body got heavier.
The next thing Kripa knew, he was playing the very small teaspoon to Gaston's serving ladle...
In his heart, he could feel mirth that was not him. 'Alright Krishna, very funny...' Kripa internally grumbled as he tried to remain mad at his Lord.
But how could he? It this embarrassing position made the master of his life smile...then so be it.