O – o – o – o – O
Note: English is not my native language, and I lack beta/proofreader, therefore expect mistakes and wonky grammar.
O – o – o – o – O
2
Gaius could do little more than give instructions and watch in horror as the battle progressed from facing a warmachina on a small circular platform to a golden-clad freak-show, complete with the scenes of his past sins to accompany this performance. Equally deadly. Equally horrifying. And with equal conclusion...? No. This was the likeness of Werlyt and that tale ended quite differently. But with the Scion's favoured hero at the battlefield, it painted a different outcome.
The battle was not to be drawn out. It was fierce, explosive, it shook the entire facility. But before long, the Emerald Weapon collapsed on the platform, and the projected image dispersed. Being relegated to the sidelines without any possibility to offer any meaningful assistance, not being able to help Rex, was one of the worse punishments of his life. In the end, he could do little else but watch as the boy was felled.
When she and Gaius made their way to Castrum Marinum, one of two likely locations, this was an expected outcome. Now, the massive hangar of the imperial installation was filled with nothing but heavy silence and lapping of the water below.
Minutes passed, or longer, and the Warrior of Light climbed from the water and sat on the floor, back against the railing. Her armour was torn and her horns and tail chipped and cracked. There was blood where she stepped, where her hand would grip the railing, but no wounds could be immediately spotted.
The boy activated the Oversoul too early into the fight.
"Fighting you must've frightened him. Spurred him into doing something rash."
'Stupid. Irreversible.' A general thought that passed through his mind, a rationalization of the events as his eyes were still fixated on the warmachina that had become yet another coffin for one of his own.
In truth, there was all manner of possibilities as to why he would make such a choice. Perhaps she was dismantling the machina a bit too fast and too viciously in her attempts to reach the cockpit. Perhaps Rex had hoped that the combat data afforded to him would lead to victory.
He shook his head. "A foolish notion. And one well-known, I should think." He sighed and turned his head to look at her and there was something so familiar about his features that she didn't say anything. The only response he got was shuffling from the floor to his side, where she unbuckled the top part of her armour with a grunt and held her hand against whatever injury she had sustained. She could feel the cold resonating through her fingertips.
He made a grumbling sound deep within his throat. "Cid and the others should be here soon."
"They should check the holding cells," she called as she wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. "Or you could. Might be for the better."
He turned to her and stared at the back of her pale hair, eyes narrowing dangerously behind that calm surface that was his face.
"One of your visions? What did it show-...?"
"Too damn much," she hissed from the floor, baring sharp teeth and winced as she turned her head. Their eyes met in a storm of mixed emotions – guilt and anger, primarily. Disappointment, almost certainly. And maybe even a healthy dose of accusation. Perhaps it was her excessive late-night indulgences that caused her failure to save the pilot. Slowed her reflexes? Impaired her judgment?
It was rage boiling under his skin that he felt, shooting through his veins. That was when he was supposed to leave her alone. That was when he was supposed to leave her to seethe in her own silence. This was the rabid dog growling at the hand reaching towards it, baring teeth in a threat to snap. Yet, which of them was the 'dog' in this tale, was still in question.
Tearing himself away from the sight, he began to traipse across the room, annoyance prickling beneath his skin and stirring his movements on. All the things that could be said – should be said and will be said... yet this tomb was not the place for any of that.
"...he thought the world of you..." It was spoken clearly, yet it felt like a whisper he might have imagined, halting his anger and his steps halfway across. Only for a moment, though.
He moved towards the door to leave her be, to keep watch.
O – o – o – o – O
Breathing slowly, the woman didn't open her eyes, not right away. It took a moment or several. Pain radiated through her skull as she watched with pallid interest the proceedings before her. She tasted blood in her mouth, prodded her lower lip with her tongue to find it was bleeding. It had a similar taste to the heady concoction of the misery of everyone involved. She heard words, some sort of chastising... There was more going on here, more than one distraught youth. She'd file that for later, as necessary.
Even as the crew was preparing to leave, picking up distraught Raen from the floor, Gaius spotted the woman climb to her feet, rubbing her scalp. When she pulled her hand away, her fingers were bloody. At the same time, one of the Ironworks engineers ran over to her, calling and waving to get her attention.
"A message from the Scions. Guess the signal couldn't reach for all the interferences in the Castrum," a blue and white-clad man spoke, a mild grin on his face, as he handed over a message. "They need you at the Rising Stones."
There was a slow blink, and she let out a breath. He watched her nod, furtively wiping her bloodied hand against her trousers.
Thus, the cycle would repeat, on and on, whirl without end.
O – o – o – o – O