I.Q 16.
I just realized I've made a terrible Typo
It's Kaazami...not Kanzanami... and it's Ryoji...not Ryuji.
I'm a terrible Touhou fan.,. and writer in general
And no one told me... Not even the guy who told me that story was trash.
Meh...
Please warn me if I make a typo...
'hmm. I wonder what my son is doing right now?' Mukhara wondered as she glided along the armourie's long a seldom-used hallway...
Well, only a few could use it, but the place was kept under tight surveillance for good reason.
Still, Fujiwara had given Mukhara and Gaston permission to use whatever they needed.
Mukhara already had the weapon she needed, and Radha would rather use her natural power over guns and explosives. As for Gaston's team, the young man had scoffed at the idea of using a gun and had intimated that they had their own divine weapon.
Still, it was a nice underground corridor were chanting Japa there was pleasurable, for the echo would answer in kind, only the ventilation was a bit noisy for the sensitive hearing of Mukhara...a hearing that had picked up the sound of her son's practically silent chanting.
Kripa was not a silent chanter, when her divinely begotten son would recite the Maha-Mantra, the mercy of the sacred chant was for all in the vicinity. Meaning Kripa didn't want to wake up Gaston.
Oh, the ancient Prince of Japan knew of the Aristocrat's predicament, having been made aware of it by one of the least envious crusaders, Colette Brunet. And she could hear the proud yet burdened crusader's deep breath and slow heartbeat.
Meaning he was asleep...right on her son. Finally getting the rest he so desperately needed.
'If this keeps on going, I may need to adopt every single youth I see...' The saintly hermit thought humorously. It's not as if she couldn't take care of them, she had the land, the finds, and the love required to raise an army of children and then some.
But...realistically, she was but a single person with many flaws. 'I need to contact my friend in the government, maybe they could help me set something up for all of those orphans.'
No...better she stays in the transcendental realm. She knew many women, man and plenty of couples who wouldn't mind opening their hearts and home to children...even if they may not pick up Krishna Consciousness from the get-go.
At least they would be in contact with the name and sacred Prasadam...
She turned the corner of the underground weapon storage facilities and came face to face with Mai. The Angle swaddled in green-blue silk to complement her gorgeous teal wings. It was clear she was guarding the hallway.
"Oh, good...afternoon Mai." Mukhara greeted cordially. "I see you like the sari I gave you."
The blond angel folded her palms. "Yes indeed. I feel...safe swaddled in this silken gown, the filthy gaze of men...and some women, do not touch my skin anymore." the so-called celestial being...who was more sacred than her superiors would think, gratefully spoke as she folded her palms.
"that great, and how about the chanting?"
"I...my mind is most unsteady...but I doubt you came here only to inquire about this most fallen one's well-fare," Mai uttered without pride.
"Yes, the mind's like a monkey...just keep chanting my dear. You are doing great." Mukhara praised. "And you are half-right about my reason to be here."
"You wanted to know the were-about of your most glorious son?" while Mai had the decency to ask, Mukhara knew that the angel was...fearful of her reaction.
"Yes...what did he do this time?" The ancient Vaishnavi asked with a smirk. Truly feeling like the mother of a deviant teenager...and loving every moment of it.
"Oh...ah...He's laying with another man." Mai blushed as she averted her covered eyes. It was clear the Abrahamic angel was extremely opposed to it.
"Ah...I see. I'll wake them up, return to your storage." mukhara gently ordered.
And with that, Mai gave her pranam to Mukhara and disappeared in an explosion of pixels.
Mukhara pressed her lips together ' Such a violent way to return to a storage area...I can't wait to get them all out.' And with this thought, she glided along the hallway and toward the source of the sound of a very restful sleep...for one.
After she turned a corner, she finally caught sight of the Duo. Gaston was on his side, tightly curled around her son, holding the progeny of the most powerful youkai in existence like a plush doll. As he deeply slept. And from what she could hear from him, he was sleeping like a log.
A gentle smile lit her lips. For the pride he showed, the crusader had more worry than most. And from the...relinquished meal, it was clear his anxiety over his and his family's fate was affecting him more than he let one...and mister Lavigne's kill steal even more so.
Still, the spear wielder was at peace at the moment, and from his slight murmur, Mukhara knew he was having a nice sweet dream about a blue boy and his cows.
And his Uncle, apparently.
'Ah! Yuthika, your son is just like you...look, he brought this pour soul to Vrindavana just by his bodily aroma.' She took a picture of that...to Krishna-Kripa's great dismay.
"Mom!" He whispered, mortified and wishing to sink in the earth. "I swear it's not what you think...he, Gaston fell asleep like that!"
"I know, my son...I know." Mukhara nodded. Yes, she knew that while her son was queer. (It must be coming from her. ) His desires were pure and free from lust.
He just wanted to get out of this situation, but it seemed he didn't want to wake up the afflicted young man...or hurt him.
It was so kind of him, especial considering how prideful and generally unpleasant Gaston had been at first. But...Mukhara, in the sixty-eight years she had been in her present body, knew that, while all had their nature, it could and would change with time.
It could get worst like it could get better...and with Gaston, she hopped the latter would happen.
"Mom?... Ah...can you...umm..." Kripa tried to wiggle his way out of the young adult grip, but it seemed Gaston had no intention to release the young son of the Flower Master.
Mukhara chuckled. Yes, he truly had all the glories of Yuthika, including the ability to chase nightmares and induce sleep like the Valerian, Hop, potent Hemp, Blue Lotus and Winter cherry.
While smelling like Lavender and chamomile of course.
Still, it was clear Mukhara's dear progeny desperately desired to be rescued from this very awkward position. The saintly hermit landed beside the duo and took a moment to appreciate how peaceful Gaston was. 'oh child, I wish I could let you sleep longer. But peace is not yet achieved.'
She gently shook Gaston, knowing that her Kripa had tried rousing the young adult with his voice...to no avail.
Yuthika had the same problem...actually, whoever would sleep in her surprisingly caring embrace would have that problem.
She was... used to be so pleasant to hold.
"Sir Gaston...Sir Gaston, we are about to depart." She shook the spear wielder. And when this was not sufficient, she used some...stronger mean. "Utishta!"
The ancient and ever potent Sanskrit order did the trick, and Gaston finally emerged from Krishna-Kripa's Govinda's filled dreamland.
Mukhara was already planning a means to gain access to it...hopefully without waiting for Krishna-Kripa to be too hurt to move...or worst.
Still, Kripa was a young teen, so the prospect of her grown child to seek refuge in Mama's bed was practically nill at that point.
"Mmmmah?" Gaston bleary murmured as he opened his eyes...and noticing that he was playing the tablespoon to Kripa's dainty teaspoon, released the teen in all haste as he sat erect.
Kripa Picked himself off from the floor and sat a bit further away from the older youth, and act as if this was completely normal.
"So, Sir Gaston...feeling better?" He asked, going again Mukhara's expectation. "Hope I wasn't too stinky or...bony." He added with a grin.
Gaston...still ashamed at what had occurred remained silent, yet, it was clear he was still affected by Kripa's aroma.
"Sri Gaston...please be at ease, I know you needed to rest, and I know what happened was quite spontaneous." Mukhara did her best to reassure the vain and prideful samurai.
The crusader slowly got to his feet. Wanting to appear as imposing as possible to the two shorter people in the room. "...This shall never be brought in broad public, is that clear?"
"Yeah...Not gonna blackmail you. As long as you don't bring it up, that is." Kripa assured the young man as he also got to his feet. "Now...how late are we?" he asked his mother.
"Not enough to be fashionable. Come, my holy warriors, Shesha's last stand await!" She declared.
"Yes...and he will feel the might of my spear and know the true magnitude of a Samurai!" Gaston boldly declared as he hit his chest. He looked markedly better...
Even with the bit of drool on the corner of his lips.
And it was abundantly clear that he wanted to leave this embarrassing experience as far behind him as possible, not that Kripa would stop him.
And with that, the three walked out, ready to face the Legion of evil spirit...and hopefully save Yuki.
'Yuki-kun...please hang on a bit longer.' Krishna-Kripa thought as he prayed for Krishna...shamefully asking him for the strength and the intelligence to carry his will through.
Back at the Tsukiji-Hongwangji, Flynn was of the same mind.
He had just finished healing Issachar, his transmogrified brother. Somehow, he had fared better, and the spear of Michael had barely missed his heart.
Flynn had been about to take the lost weapon when Dagda took it away from his hands, telling the Samurai that this was too good for him...but that he could have it later if Krishna was so inclined.
And thus, Flynn was once again weaponless...
Issachar had...he had requested Flynn not the heal him perfectly since this would mean the samurai from Naraku would not be able to strike him down easier. But the samurai simply could not let his brother's right hand dangle from some connective tissues and skin.
...somehow, having Issachar around again made this nightmare a tad more bearable...even for a little while.
And then...Maitreya, the walking golden Buddha had request Flynn's assistance to treat his master, for the main act was about to start.
When he had walked in the room...Yuki was not breathing...and his skin was peeling off wherever it made contact with anything.
This is what prompted Flynn to tell Yuki to hang on as he repaired the Yaksha's bursting cells...Staring with his lungs.
And hour pass...and then two. And finally, Yuki could breathe Again.
Something Flynn knew would be harder to maintain would Nyarlatotep keep abusing the body of the dying Yaksha.
But what was more worrisome was how...unresponsive Yuki had become. Before, when Flynn had just met him, the young man would at least listen to him somewhat, he would move and show signs that he was there...that he was somewhat conscious.
But now...it was as if he had died...
His heart was beating, his lungs were filling with air...now that the cell's walls were repaired that is, and he would sometimes twitch. But that was the extent of how much life he would show.
Flynn sighed as he went to repair the rest of his body. He knew he was pushing away the inevitable but...at least, he felt as if he was doing something...
...
He thought he had felt hopeless after killing Issachar and finding his family home destroyed...and his father dying from his wounds.
He was wrong...Flynn...right now, truly was feeling hopeless, powerless...
he could do nothing, he was held hostage to a demon that, for all intent and purpose, had already won!
Because no matter what happened...even if Yuki would expire...Nyarlathotep would still remain, the white would still remain...
The whites were intelligent...and they were resourceful...and it seemed nothing short of following their plans seemed to be the option he had.
"F...Flynn?" Yuki gasped.
"Yuki!" Some hope returned.
"N...No...Just...Ryoji..." Nyx rasped again. "Oh God...how long...what day is it?"
"I have no idea..." Flynn revealed as he helped the ghost in the Yaksha's body sit upright, using the far wall as a backrest letting him clear out his lungs from whatever blood and mucus were left.
Once that was done...Ryuki looked marginally better.
Somewhat...
Flynn sat beside the dying man...he was silent save the sibilant hissing of his breath.
"So...how long do you think this body will last?" Flynn asked as conversationally as possible.
"As long as Nyarlatotep needs it to...the ass-hole just love the despair you feel..." he revealed. " And out collective pain."
Flynn sighed, leaned back and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
Why was he not surprise, he was sure there was a group of being that just adored watching him suffer and struggle in this nightmare.
Bunch of sadists...may they all meet his same fate.
They remained in silence...Flynn trying to figure out a way to break free, at least to contact Isabeau and explain to his best fellow the terrible situations and to prepare her for the inevitable.
Oh, he knew he could not get out. Dagda was staunch in his decision to follow Nyarly to the end, and Maitreya, a personality touted for his compassion and care, didn't seem to care or mind about the state of his master...or how he was about to commit genocide on everyone.
Actually, Maitreya was seldom seen, mostly heard as he brainwashed those that had the misfortune of falling in the Polytheistic alliance honey trap.
As for Odin?
As it turned out, the poor All-father was at its wit's end about YHVH...and just like Dadga, just wanted the whole farce to end so that he may move on...
Midgar had fallen, and Valhalla had been taken over, his Freya now but a plaything at the hands of the angels, the Valkyries stripped of their armours. And his son...Thor...
Thor had sacrificed his life to save his father, fusing with the all-father. Taking the role of his left side.
When fusing Demons, Flynn had sadly learned that the weakest one would cease to be...his existence merged into the strongest.
And no...nothing would bring him back.
Odin saw the eventual merging of all souls, the salvation offered by the so-called Krishna, as his only way out.
And Flynn...shamefully enough, was starting to see their ways...and yet...
and yet he could not seem to forget Prahlad and his assurance. About how Lord Narashima-deva, God himself was protecting him.
Once again, Flynn folded his palms, and once again he prayed to the half-lion, half-man for strength...for salvation.
He felt Ryuki pulled on his sleeve. "yes Ryoji?"
"Don't...give...up...plynn..."
Flynn's brown hid under his bang...thin was not Ryoji speaking, it was...
"Yuki..." the Samurai in blue spontaneously held the dying young man's hand, letting him lean on his shoulder.
"K...Krsna...love you...God...will save us..." He slurred. And yet Flynn could detect an amazing amount of faith and conviction. "Krushna...Krsna...Krsna..." he began to repeat as if Calling the lord.
And then...he began to recite.
Hare Krishna...
Hare Krishna...
Krishna Krishna...
Hare Hare...
Hare Rama...
Hare Rama...
Rama Rama...
Hare Hare...
And then...his eyes lost their clarity.
Despite himself, Flynn took hold of the youth and held him onto his lap... tears of frustration and sorrow brimming from his acid green eyes.
He remained like this for some time, needing to feel some contact, to hold someone for his own mental well-being...once again praying to the lord for something...Anything...
"hey...beautiful?" That was Ryoji...he could recognize him from the somewhat effeminate tone of his voice. "...wow...I...I never tough Yuki could still speak." he weakly stated as he leaned his head onto the samurai's shoulder. "Oh...and Navarre says hi...and he apologizes for leaving do early...and being a right bully to you...he also thinks you truly deserve your title as the saviour..."
"Navarre's here? He's in Yuki?" Flynn asked with a substantial amount to surprise.
"Yes..." Ryoji admitted simply. "He's...has a lot to say."
"yes...he is indeed quite boastful." Flynn knew too well about how prideful and...overly talkative the green ghost could be. "I'm sorry about him...there's not much you can do once Navarre start."
While it was nice to have someone who could be vaguely considered an Ally...Flynn could've gone with someone less full of himself.
Hearing Navarre touts his own glories had never been fun.
"Oh...DOn't say that..." Ryoji mildly rebuked, his borrowed brows knitting. "He such a nice boy...he loves art, music and...did you know he can play Harpsichord?" Ryoji asked, his dead eyes gaining some shine. "I love Harpsichord...and he's so funny." Ryoji sighed.
It was not a gusty sigh...but it was definitely a dreamy one.
"I...oh, what am I saying." he sighed, this time in despair. "He's a most elevated gentleman, born of a good and pious family. Such a man would never look at me favourably..." he buried his face in Flynn's chest, gently sobbing. "And how can I...I always hurt those I care about...no...no...better he knows nothing. Better...keep it a secret."
He looked up at Flynn, it was clear Ryoji was fighting off the fatigue that plagued Yuki's body.
"My dear Flynn...I know I have no right to ask but...may you please keep my infatuation for Sir Navarre a Secret?"
'...' Well...it seems he was made a confidant of death personified. And death, a young man was...had...
Flynn was used to overly affectionate man, for he had been blessed...and cursed with an effeminate good look. But to see another desire for someone else than him...for Navarre.
Well, who was he to judge? All had their own taste.
"I promise, Ryoji," he assured death.
It was clear that what Nyarlatotep was doing to Yuki was starting to affect Ryoji. For he had never heard the Herald of death babbled on and on about...him... as a love interest.
It was still better than talking about the inevitable end of the world.
"Yuki...Yuki's personas are still sleeping...but once Nyarly wakes up...it will be over..." Ah, there it was, their usual subject.
"I know...save your strength. I can only heal Yuki so much per session." especially if he had to take care of Issachar on top of it all.
"Uh...yes...Yuki...I'm...I caused him all of this suffering...I just...I thought he was adorable you know...and I wanted...I wanted to open his heart again and...I guess...I guess I didn't listen to him...no...I was only thinking about my own pleasure...and now...now I have my aim on another." Ryoji let out a sob. "I'm a terrible person...I destroy everything..."
"Shh...just rest Ryoji." Flynn spoke soothingly to the agitated herald. Clearly, he was feeling the weight of his sin.
"F...Flynn? Do you think...do you think Krishna will Forgive me? A sinner?" He asked in a weak, vulnerable voice that broke Flynn's heart anew.
Now...should he lie? Of should he tell the truth to the dying man?
The Samurai of so-called hope remained silent.
Back at Cafe Florida, the point of the strategic needle was taking shape. Mukhara's limbs were repaired and restore, she had even readjusted the strength of her glasses so that she would not get caught again. Radha, now Fully healed had a cart filled with items and heavy weapons.
No, she would not be using those. But was holding those for whoever needed it.
Hoshi sat at the bar, he was still hiding his nature as a Nephilim, but he had given a very confident Nod to Kripa.
He would help in the fight, he was not afraid to go all out.
The fact that he had been instrumental in the defeat of Shesha probably helped...and maybe the fact that he wanted to impress his (ex) boyfriend also had a part to play.
It was not that hard to figure out...but more worryingly was the fact that he was going against the source of all beauty, sweetness and love...and everything else.
Really, it was a lost cause, more so than Kripa's own irrational infatuation for the supreme personality of Godhead.
For who could be more beautiful than the source of all beauty, Sweetness and love?
Well...he knew Who, and Kripa hopped she would bestow upon him her merciful glance.
Moving on to Nozomi, the blond had restocked on ammunition and new armour. it was clear she wanted something more than a red cat-suit. What she wore was still very colourful and hard to miss, but with the addition of a black armour vest and a few more ammo belts.
She looked ready to defeat ten thousand gods. And her red lipstick...oh, it was as red as her fighting spirit.
Ken looked the same, but he carried with him two spears, he was talking to Gaston, probably giving him some tips about how to use the deadly stick more efficiently. And quite shockingly, the samurai in white was listening to the older man.
There was still some 'Holier than thou' sort of vibes going on...but it was tempered with. 'I grudgingly admit that what you say might be worth my time.'
It was good progress, and Kripa suspected the nap and a long conversation with Mukhara had also helped. And Ken...
Really, from the last time Aigis had seen the small boy, he had grown to be a very mature and dutiful man. It was just unfortunate he had to live in such a terrible situation for more than two decades.
Gaston now held a new spear in his hands, a gift from Ken-kun. It was clearly homemade, but the material used was high class and sturdy, just like his maker. Not only that, but Mukhara had lifted the special effect from the old and dusty sword, and had transposed its anti-shesha property of everyone's weapons.
Except for Kripa's shovel, the God-Given weapon was already perfect. It was just the youth that held it that needed to train more.
But having anti-Kalia weapons was more of a mixed blessing for it implies that they had to face the beast again.
And thus, everyone was waiting for the alarm to scream, Skin had fiddled with the magical piece of technology to reduce it's siren to...loud enough to be heard, but not enough to pierce Mukhara's hyper-sensitive ears...
Thus...the servant of God waited for the alarm to go off, for Mukhara had told them that once 'Shesha; would be defeated for the third time, the path to Yuki and Flynn would be open. And Kripa could finally perform the act Sri-Krishna had asked him to perform.
Speaking of the plant-like youth, Kripa was polishing yet another plate of Kitchary... shamelessly sitting on the floor and using no ustencil.
He was a punk, a Marginal, and thus, he could and would do whatever he wanted! And...
Yes...he was ravenous, To his aunt and mother's great pleasure. He wore yet another awesome shirt and had received what was probably one of the best body armour ever; A Narashima-Kavacha.
It looked like a small silver tube that hung around his Tulasi neck-beads. Yet another gift from his mother. But Kripa could feel the protective power of his Krishna lurking there. It was as if his Krishna was embracing him to his broad and inviting chest...
He paused his eating...
'Krishna...I only have a single prayer my Lord...please stop saving me with your body...' Krishna-Kripa could still remember how Krishna's beautiful and fragrant left side had been decorated by a bruise. A bruise he had incur by catching Kripa and his mother as they crashed on the roof of a building.
Mukhara had assured her son that, would he be willing, she could teach him how to fly free of his fear.
But Kripa honestly didn't care about that, his Krishna had once again saved him at the Expanse of His own comfort. And the servant of God just knew his master had been the one who had kept all the demons at bay as he and his mother recovered.
'Just you wait Krish, one day, I'll have one on you, and that day, you won't be able to pull you're 'Shut up, I'm God' card on me.' he internally sneered. 'Once I'm back in Vraja, I'm gonna stick to you like glue, I'll be a cowherd boy...I'll carry a big stick with me and I'll kill all those demons send by Kamsa before they can even catch a whiff of You.'
"But if you become a cowherd boy, then you will live in abject misery, my beloved one.' Krishna teased.
'I don't care, as long as they can't touch you, I'll be happy.' Kripa replied.
"Hmm...I see. But just so you know, some cowherd damsels are also tasked to protect Goloka-Vrindavana, wouldn't you prefer to serve under Chandra-Nana? She protects the gate of the spiritual world with her Danda...I'm sure she would love you."
'No...Demons don't attack you at night, they always strike when your with your cowherd boy friends.' Kripa retorted. 'And no demons can Enter Golok." Kripa argued back as she gave Krishna a flower Radha had given to her through Lalita. It was a fragrant lotus, and on one of its petals was a message for a midnight rendezvous.
"Yes, which proves how good my dearest Chandra-Nana is," Krishna spoke with pride, the light of the late morning sun filtering through the leaf of a pious bael tree dancing on his numerous ornaments. Yet not affecting his natural beauty.
She huffed. "Obviously since no one protects you when you go herding your friends' cows," she grumbled.
"That's not true!" Krishna exclaimed as he attempted to protect the honour of his cowherd boy friends." Stota-Krishna, Rshba, Sridhama and Balaram, my elder brother all protect me." Krishna gave a heart-melting and mischievous smile as he accepted the flower. "It's you who are blinded by the effulgence on the sun, my dear."
She huffed as she took the sweets Radharani had made for her Krishna. It was her many specialties, some expertly made Manohara Laddus. "Yeah, well I never heard or seen any of them risking their lives for you. The moment they hear the lion-like rumbling of an unseasonable monsoon cloud, to the run the hills," she stated as she handed the perfectly round and perfectly made sweet to the Lord of her life.
She was about to drop it in his hand when Shyam took her wrist and ate the laddu from her delicate, petal-like fingers. Purposefully brushing his ruby red lips against them.
"And how about you..." Krishna purred like a monsoon cloud. "You hear the sound of my flute, and you run from the cave-like home of you're-" But before the mischievous Krishna could finish his teasing phrase...the Shesha radar blared to life, Breaking Krishna-Kripa our of his spontaneous meditation.
'A daydream...nothing more than a daydream.' He thought as he jumped to his feet and joined the rest of the saintly raiders as they rushed the Shesha's penultimate location. 'This time...I'm killing it.'
"Alright...here's the plan," Mukhara whispered as they beheld the terrifying for of the Indra-Naga.
He was still alive, obliviously. But most of his wounds were still oozing blood and puss, and his right hand was gone.
" those who can fly and shoot danmaku, we take his attention away from Gaston. Gaston, you go in and strike the beast while he's distracted, work in conjunction with Kripa and Master Amada ken."
The samurai in white grumbled.
"My son is powerful enough to carve Shesha's wrist with a shovel. And if need be, my son, you have the permission to obliterate the demon with a spark...just aim it-"
"Up to pierce the vault of the heaven," Krishna-Kripa smirked as he leaned onto his God-given shovel.
"yes...and be careful I or you aunt are not in the way." His mother warned him as she removed her glasses, unwilling to break them again.
"Got it, mom."
"Alright...now, before we go and face the fake Lord, I would request you all to hold hands and chant with me the Holy names," Mukhara commanded as she reached for Kripa and Radha's already extended limbs. "I know...it's...not what you usually do, but with what happen last time we faced the Indra-Naga, I would feel more at peace to know all of you to chant with me, to asked the Lord to bless us in our endeavour."
"Wait... don't tell me you want us to pray." Hoshi's eyes widened in surprise mixed with disdain. "Yo, Nana...you're not-" but his words died in his mouth, for Krishna-Kripa was already holding his mother's doll like limb. Skin took the other hand, and Gaston held his and Nozomi's.
"You know...I first took you all for useless, animalistic morons but...I see you are quite pious." He praised Mukhara. Who humbly bowed her head.
"An animalistic moron...yeah, I can see it. It is only by my teacher-priest that I have reached to the level of 'merely a moron'." His saintly mother stated with a self-humorous smile, and meaningfully gave Kripa's hand a squeeze. "A moron means a well-meaning and endearing idiot...someone's who harmless basically."
"Mom...that's not even me right now..." Kripa chuckled, understanding that, really, Gaston had given them a compliment...in his own way.
"Anyway twerp, you better not be calling her Grace Mukhara that anymore, Lest you want to look like me without my face." the scarred hunter threatened. To which, Gaston grew silent.
"So, elf-boy. Wanna join us in our pow-wow?" Nozomi asked "You're already named After God...Might as well surrender to Him, don't you think?"
Hoshi looked at the small group and...remained where he was, keeping his balled up fist to his side.
Krishna-Kripa could see that his mother's eyes darkened. "I see...Hallelujah, you don't have to join us then...but please do not keep those desires, he has aimed higher."
Hoshi 'tisked' as he turned away.
Krishna-Kripa pursed his lips... and he felt his mother and Skin give his hands a reassuring squeeze.
"Alright...does everyone know the Mantra? Gaston?" she addressed their newest recruit.
"It's...ah...Hare Rama?" the much taller Samurai ventured.
"Hare Krishna..." Skin corrected. "You know, what I showed you."
"Right, of course." Gaston caught himself, his nose held up high. "I supposed I am still...affected by my nap." he leered with some heat at Kripa.
"Buddy...your the one who decided to spoon a plant. Not me." Kripa lazily shot back, delighting with how Gaston pressed his lips as his face grew red.
"Dude, get over it...and you're the one who brought it up, not me." Kripa spoke as he took some...pleasure at how uncomfortable Gaston looked. " So...are we waiting for Shesha to grow a crown or what?"
"Alright...All together now!" Mukhara ended all conversation, the corner of her mouth turning up at the interaction between her son and the young man.
Hare Krishna, Hare Krishna, Krishna Krishna, Hare Hare,
Hare Rama, Hare Rama, Rama Rama, Hare Hare.
The small group of misfit chanted in unison three times. And each time they sang the holy name, every time the sacred and transcendental vibration would echoed in the dome, the feeling of fear and dread diminished almost to nil, and bliss entered their heart.
Kripa would've chanted more if not for Mukhara regretfully breaking the circle of divine love. It was now time to fight again.
Kripa ruefully smirked as he unhooked his shovel, he gave a mischievous sidelong glance to Gaston. "So...are you ready to compost a snake?"
The samurai in white gave the much younger boy an unreadable look.
"I'll take that as a yes." His smirk morphed into a sadistic grin. No, he was not holding back anymore.
Once again, in the diamond realm, Stephen couldn't help but wondered the level of Narada's wisdom.
Mukhara had already hacked his game, putting everyone on the same level. Not only that, but she had managed to make friends with quite a few key players...powerful key players.
Gaston was not supposed to have made a friend from Amada Ken, And Amada ken was not supposed to be on the playing field. But more worryingly was the fact that Gaston had lost the spear of 'Michael'...and this spear was now in the Polytheistic Alliance hands.
This...was the worst-case scenario, Flynn was not supposed to be a Godslayer either...and Shesha's previous identity never meant to be revealed.
Right now, Miko's amazing world wide woman ashram was less and less appetizing. Not if it would deviate his story too much.
'It may be trilling...but Mukhara has a reputation' She was known among them as the destroyer...and the corrupter. Turning those who somewhat liked her as a cultist raving about love for Krishna and the like.
There was a reason why Stephan took 'Krishna' as the secondary bad guy...the first being that the Jiang Shi was already fully prepared, and he was yet another returned player.
Sure, his previous dismemberment meant that Stephen could not afford a more...classical Krishna look, but it meant nothing in the end. He would still play the role perfectly...not that he had many lines.
He was meant to instill hatred, to be a common enemy before Nanashi and his merry group of misfits would face YhVh...not that Stephan was sure he wanted to include his Avatara again.
Well, he was supposed to be the ultimate bad guy, an avatar of the great will gone rogue.
It made for a good story, and it meant that Stephan was still seen as the good neutral atheist working toward the betterment of humanity by breaking them all out of their dependence on gods...they just needed to depend on him...
No. not as the great will, but to him, Stephan... the smartest, transcendental being of all, he who even the Axiom could not control.
And for this...he needed Nanashi to kill YhVh...and maybe even everything else while he was at it. This was why he had sent Dadga and convince Adramelech (via his little doll) to go in Kinshishoo and kill all who were there. For he knew he needed the malnourished dream master to be in Contact with...him.
Stephen needed a maverick, a marginal, an anarchist that only wished to have the world burn. And He would provide the matches.
This version of Tokyo needed to burn brightly, everything destroyed and rebuild anew, as per Nanashi's desire.
Or...that was what he would be lead to believe, for, being a sickly plant, the new 'God' would quickly perish from poor health, and Stephan could start everything over again.
And if somehow or other, his newest puppet would choose another side, then a simple reset and memory whip was all it would take to start anew. And eventually, Stephan would have the ending he desired.
Just as he had done with all of his previous messiahs.
But now, his well-established Narrative was threatened by the bulldozer, the cannon-breaker, the traitor of their own kind, she who has broken the tenets and meddled in the numerous ashram of their kind.
Toyosatomimi no Miko.
Stephen had heard stories from the few Sennin that had survived Miko's systematic destruction of their realms. Or the blatant brainwashing.
Nobody knew what had spurred the ancient prince of Japan on her murderous campaign, only that she would rarely leave a hermitage standing.
She was now in his hermitage...and she was already taking it in a direction Stephen didn't want.
She and her son had made friends with Demons they should have slayed, they killed demons that should not have been destroyed yet and...and she had taken Nanashi away from his adopted family and made friend with Amada Ken.
Stephen peered at his screen, watching the final battle between the ancient prince of Japan, the cloned son of Yuuka and Hell's traffic accident laying devastation upon Shesha. Weighing in if he should just ignore Narada's advice and take this as an opportunity to kill the greatest threat known to sennin kind.
He had killed Kaku Seiga without much trouble, and he doubted the limbless Miko could do anything against him.
Still, she had her reputation, and thus, better he played it safe.
He unfolded his fingers and began to type the reset command line in his terminal. He wuite liked this version of Tokyo, and Flynn was a very fun puppet to play with. Unfortunately, he could not let the plague remain.
"Rock Fall..." he muttered as he was about to press enter, ending his session for good and blatantly ignoring the counsel of Narada, the travelling Gandharva.
And then...his computer crashed.
Stephan stared...this...this was not supposed to happen, he had himself coded and build this computer from the ground up and updated the kernel to make his realm as stable as possible... he rebooted his computer. Already reviewing the codes that made his perfect playing field tick.
This type of crash should've ended his game...but the fact that his goddess was still looking at him meant one thing, Miko had made herself an administrator...and she had some control over his realm. This, Stephen knew, and Ironically enough, this means that his world, despite his terminal crashing, was still functioning. Still, he had absolutely no idea what could've caused it.
And then...he got his answer. He could feel...them...
"Remember, oh Mortal, that what you try to prevent will still happen by His will!' He heard a terrifying voice speak to his ear... it's ice-cold breath pungent with the smell of death. "Thou shall perish even before thou press this button, fool."
In the black screen of his computer, Stephan caught the retreating sing of a ghoulish...
In some part of the world, they are called Ankou, Shinigami, Kirins, Faucheuese, angels of death, devils
...Yamadutas...
Stephan sat back in his wheelchair heavily. Being a Sennin meant that you cheated those creatures and their masters, something that was only temporary.
He could still fight them off...but...
Right now, this particular Yamaduta had been breathing down on his neck, nothing could've stopped the servant of death to pass his noose around Stephen's neck and drag him off to hell.
But he hadn't...and this put the powerful man on edge.
Something was afoot. Something that made the otherwise zealous servant of death stand back.
Stephan reopened his P.C. and resumed his watch, keeping his hands to himself... his mind already conjuring around a thousand way he could cheat death again.
"Alright Gaston, He's aaaall yours~!" Kripa playfully grinned as he held Kalia in place, his unguarded tail a wonderful grabbing area.
He supposed that was the fakes' ass, and he had told the snake that it belonged to him. Meaning Krishna-Kripa could do whatever he wanted with it. Including yanking it hard enough to pop a few vertebrae out.
Oh, he had fun swinging and trashing his Mother's offender to his heart content, discovering with great joy that he didn;t have to wear boots, and that he could root himself to on spot and fling the green pasta all around the place Like Krishna did Dhenukasura!
It was so Cathartic.
Gaston, being held aloft by Mai, was swung unto the shattered and battered form of the fake Shesha, the snake not even struggling to protect his heart as Gaston plunged the homemade shaft deep in his chest,
Kripa's sadistic grin diminished somewhat as the false throne of God trashed around before stilling. Turning to the son of Yuuka.
"Flynn...Yu...Yuki...Do not trust...Flynn...save them." And with this message given, Shesha violently dissolved into pixels, sending Kripa on his back, blinded by the unnatural blue light.
"Don't trust Flynn." Kripa huffed as he got to his feet. "Jeez...does it mean the rumours were true?" Krishna-Kripa mumbled to himself. Now that the fight was over, his buzz was fading quite rapidly.
"Ah! And thus my Magnificence shone forth!" Gaston declared from the spot where he had landed. "Behold Marcel! The true power of a real Samurai!" He jabbed a finger at the stunned crusader.
Really, the whole fight had practically being Kripa and Gaston waling at Kalia with all their might while Nozomi sniped the guy and Skin...stood at the side, his demons dispensing buffs and debuffs to those who needed it. Mukhara and Radha lighting the sky in the world's deadliest and most beautiful light show.
It was quite a different story from the terrible fight they had but a few hours prior. And quite cathartic too. Unfortunately, They could not do the same trick as they did with Colossus...
For shame.
"Yes, Good Job Kripa." Mukhara addressed her son. "And Mai, it was such an honour to fly by your side, you pulled me out of so many difficult situations." she then praised the angel, who meekly lowered her head. "And you, Gaston. You truly were a shining example of bravery my son...I'm so proud of you."
"Alright, enough patting prideful pricks, we need to move, Kris-" Ken caught himself under the had and fiery gazes of the Vaishnavas;. "The Utsuro won't wait for us...let's celebrate after the ass is dead and burnt to ashes."
Krishna-Kripa gritted his teeth, it was not much better...and he dearly hoped it would not come to that.
"Yes." Gaston readily agreed, an air of confidence now replacing the self-importance he used to wrap himself in. "Let this curr face those whom the Lord has favoured. Let him taste the wrath of His army...and let him regret his decision to desecrate God's Holy name and fame in such an insidious way!" he declared, his chest opened and filled with the same pride that gave Kripa's mother her regal bearing.
'Holy crap! Is that the same Gaston? Krishna, what the hell have you done to him?' Krishna-Kripa asked his lord. Where was the puffed, full of himself and an insufferable Samurai that would insult anyone and everyone? What had happened to him?
"My dearest, you eternally carry me in your purified heart. Your mere presence purifies even the greatest of holy places, for you yourself are a holy-Dham."
Kripa elected to ignore his mind, knowing that all of those allegations were wrong. Besides, it was clear Ken and Mukhara had a role to play in the Samurai in white's miraculous growth.
"Alright, Let's go and finish this!" ken grunted, Grabbing his own bent-out spear. The elder hunter had also taken part in the snake-kebab festival.
He had almost died a few times, and it was clear his body had been over-used in the two decades he had stayed in the fake Tokyo. And yet, the spear wielder and the one Kalanemi chose had shown why he was still considered a force to be reckoned with...too bad for his-
Ah, no, he managed to straighten it again. Gotta love Ken and his no-nonsense attitude.
As the group left, Kripa could only hope Shesha was bluffing.
Flynn was not to be trusted...and yet had to be saved.