The Ghost, the Devil and the Shapeless
》Siffa breathed in the clean, humid air of Route 212, eyes closed and a look of pure satisfaction on her face. The day was sunny. The Starly were singing. The constant, rushing sound of the small waterfalls on the right side of the valley eased her mind into a peaceful lull, leaving her body on autopilot as she walked.
To her it was a beautiful day, for all the reasons that Shadi despised it. The pale girl walked ahead of her with hands in her pockets and a rushed pace that made it clear she wanted to reach the next town as soon as humanly possible. However, It was hard to determine if the sour look on her face was due to the hot, humid climate or the unexpected companion still following them.
"This is what you two do all day, then?" asked Ciro, disinterestedly looking up at the sky. "One gawks at nature like it's her first day in this world and the other scurries to the embrace of civilization like a Koffing looking for a good spot to contaminate?"
Siffa chuckled. Shadi shot her an irritated glance as though she'd been the one to make the comment. She simply shrugged.
"At least one of you has a sense of humor," muttered Ciro. "Come on, Shadi, where's the wit you displayed during our previous battle? Well… wit might be a bit too generous a word. Kind of in the same vein as calling a Gyarados rampaging through a city environmentally conscious, but…"
"I'm going to punch you in the nose," Shadi cut him off. Her voice was deep and firm, like ice. "Twice. Maybe three times. Whatever amount most appropriately represents the pleasure your company has given me these past few hours."
Ciro beamed at the comment and Siffa couldn't help but take in each little piece of his smile, saving it in her memory like gold inside a safe. Gods he was beautiful. That weather-beaten skin, those Hoennian features on his face, the long, stylish dreads reaching down to his shoulders and the bright smile he was always quick to draw, like a gunslinger with his weapon. Not to mention the way his glasses framed those amazing green eyes of his. So vibrant, so full of energy. Nothing like Shadi's, though they were technically the same color. She supposed it was the difference between a lush jungle in summer and a still, frozen forest lake in winter. Siffa would have never said it out loud, but she knew which one she preferred between the two.
She'd never known men like him to be her type. Hell, she didn't even know she had a type until recently, but she guessed she had Shadi to thank for that. If she hadn't forced her to come along in her journey, if she hadn't promised a new life for her…
A new life…
Siffa's smile dropped. Her mind went blank.
Those memories aren't good for you, Shadi had told her. You're no longer the person they belonged to. If they ever try to come back, simply clear your mind and stop thinking. It's not a good solution. It won't fix you. Nothing will, but it's the best option you have.
And so she walked, unable to think, for as long as the memories tried to break into her. She was barely aware of the conversation occurring around her.
"See? I knew you had it in you. Finding good conversation partners amongst Pokemon trainers is like sorting through the utensil cabinet in search of shampoo."
Shadi made a sound that was always, without exception, accompanied by a roll of her eyes.
"Is that why you're still following us?" she asked. "Because I distinctly don't remember inviting you along, and my memory is quite good."
"Humble, are we? But yes, that is one of the reasons I decided to come along." He held the back of his head with his hands, smiling. "I've got a good feeling about you, Dawn. You've got the air of someone who's headed toward interesting places."
"Funny. All the air I'm getting for you is your horrid breath and a general air of irritation."
Ciro scrunched up his nose. "Meh. That was rather weak."
"I'm afraid this… hellish, humid, horrendous fucking route isn't bringing the best in me, so I apologize if I'm not being quite witty enough for you," Shadi spat out, a mix of sarcasm and anger in her voice. "Besides, if what you want is a constant conversation partner then you're barking up the wrong Trevenant. I'm not a sophist. Wit is a tool, one I'd rather use when the time calls for it, not whenever I'm bored and I want to flex my rhetoric muscles at someone."
"I see…"
Siffa came back to herself. She shook her head a bit and looked around as subtly as she could. How much time had passed? Couldn't be much. That one waterfall in the distance was only marginally closer.
"You said I was one of the reasons you decided to come along," said Shadi. "What is the other?"
Shit, what had the first one been? Siffa furrowed her brow, silently cursing her brief episodes of mind blankness. Normally they weren't that much of a problem. When she was with someone other than Shadi, however, they interfered pretty strongly with her ability to carry a conversation.
"Isn't it obvious?" asked Ciro. "You fashion yourself a smart woman, Shadi. Give me your best guess."
Shadi stopped walking, forcing them to do the same. She stared ahead with her hands still in her pockets, a deathly serious look on her face.
"You're an assassin"
The casual mood completely shattered. For the first time since they'd known him, Ciro looked completely out of words, as though someone had dumped a bucket of water on him. Siffa's face wasn't much different.
"What?" she asked, voice thin. "Are you serious? Is he…?"
Like me?
Her mind threatened to go blank again but she fought against it, gritting her teeth so hard her jaw ached. Not now. She had to know…
"I've been rising to the League challenge quite spectacularly. Too much so, in fact." Shadi spoke without cadence or emotion. Her voice was truth and fact. "I haven't lost a single Gym match since I started my journey. A troubling fact, for those in power. I wouldn't be surprised if the Champion, or someone close to her, deemed my skills too dangerous, my expertise in Pokemon training too threatening. I'm sure the Champion doesn't wish to give up her title after such a long time holding it, and if I do end up reaching her…" A miniscule smile spread through her lips. "Then her defeat will be but a formality."
Ciro looked at her with a strange expression, a mix of interest and… pity? Was she seeing that right?
"You… have a rather high opinion of yourself, don't you?" His lips became a pale line. "I'm not sure if I find it admirable or just pathetic."
Shadi looked as though she hadn't heard that. "I'll have you know that Ludwig has already zoned in on your mind waves. Show any sort of killing intent and Midir will swoop in from the sky and gobble you up before you can say anything else witty." She looked over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow. "Go on. Seriously, you being an assassin will give me the perfect excuse to get rid of you."
Her face showed a smile, but even Ciro noticed this was but a mask. Siffa didn't see him shake. However, she could feel the shiver that ran down his spine because she –and many others after her– had been in his spot before. That was the thing with Shadi. By the time you figured out just how in over your head you were, it was already too late.
A sudden cold set in Siffa's stomach. She gulped, whipping around to face Shadi, an odd determination overtaking her.
Not him, she thought, eyes flashing like a storm. Not like all the others.
"He's not an assassin," she said, her voice more confident than she herself was. "I…"
I'd know, wouldn't I?
Her mind tried to go blank again, threatened by memories that would surely shatter the new her. She resisted. She would not give in.
Shadi turned her head, regarding her with a look like that of a Noctowl eyeing a Rattata from high above. Gods, her gaze was chilling.
"You're… serious." Ciro's chest rose as though he were about to chuckle, but he simply spat out a gulp of air. "You really think you're worth the trouble of being assassinated? You?"
A thin line stretched across Shadi's face. Some would have called it a smile. Siffa knew better.
"I would rather be alive and cocky than dead and humble. I'm sure you agree."
Ciro nodded, though the motion seemed unconscious. His eyes were still narrowed, as though he were considering if it was wise to turn around and hightail it as fast as humanly possible. The possibility slid down Siffa's throat and set in her stomach like a swallowed piece of Grimer.
"You…" He formed another one of his easy smiles, shaking his head disapprovingly. "Are one hell of a conceited woman. Now I know following you two isn't a mistake."
Shadi chuckled. She turned to Siffa.
"I'll trust your judgment," she told her. "If he slits my throat in my sleep, you're taking responsibility."
Siffa felt herself smile, a gesture that very few times came naturally to her. A weight had lifted off her shoulders.
"Welcome to the group, then," she said, beaming at Ciro. "Don't fall behind and make sure to keep your wits about you, since Shadi's too full of hers to help you carry any of yours."
"Ha! That was better than anything this sad sack has come up with so far." He glanced at Shadi, laughter clear in his expression. Siffa loved how it looked on him. "You should speak more. Your voice is like sweet ambrosia compared to the sound of Meowth nails on a chalkboard that comes out of this one's mouth."
Oh, gods. She was falling, and falling hard. That was bad, for no particular reason she could think of, but still she felt it in her stomach. Her instincts hadn't ever failed her.
Except for that one time, she thought, hopeful. Maybe…
Shadi sighed. "I thought you said I was one of the reasons you decided to tag along?"
"Yes, well. We all need variety in our lives, don't we? You're amusing in small doses because you remind me of myself, but that's exactly the problem." He shrugged. "If I had to live with another myself all day I'd either go insane or murder the other one. Or both of us. Siffa's company is much more preferable for the moment to moment."
"Hm." Shadi looked up, seemingly lost in thought. "I feel the opposite. If only the world would be full of people like me. Maybe humanity could get stuff done for once."
"Now that's a nightmare right there. An entire world full of you? Yeah, no. That idea's lamer than a Ponyta with a wounded leg and twice as likely to be taken behind the shed and shot by an angry farmer, I'd say."
Shadi came back to reality, frowning. "That doesn't even make sense."
"Wit doesn't need to make sense, dear."
"Hm." Shadi nodded absentmindedly. "Why, then? What's the second reason?"
Ciro said nothing. Siffa glimpsed the shadow of a smile on his lips and a moment after he shot a quick glance at her. Nothing more than a look. Still, she could have sworn his right eye twitched in a gesture almost like a wink. She felt her heart flutter.
"You can't choose your heart's desire," he said, shrugging. "Make of that what you will."《
Mars smiled as a hundred Gardevoir materialized throughout the forest with a burst like that of a candlewick, wisps of psychic energy coating the outline of their bodies. Each of those pairs of eyes set on her. Red on red. Fitting, Mars thought, for what was to come.
"Simple illusions?" she asked, looking around, hands in her pockets. "Are you trying to lowball me, Asta?"
The short woman flashed her a cold smile, then burst into light, disappearing. Of course. That hadn't been her real body, merely an illusion. The real Asta was most likely hidden somewhere around, her form obscured and her voice carried from shade to shade by her Gardevoir's power.
"One does not use a sledgehammer against a simple nail." Asta's voice reverberated throughout the forest, as though coming from the air itself. "If you think yourself worthy of my full efforts, then prove it."
Mars raised her right arm to the sky, squinting as she stretched lazily. "Mhm? You're sounding a bit, ah… bitter there, if I'm not mistaken. Be honest. Is it about the murders? It's about the murders, isn't i–?"
All the Gardevoir moved in unison, cupping their hands in front of their chest, light bursting from every one of their pores. Mars stood still, expectant. A hundred swirling balls of pink energy the size of her head were thrown at her fast enough that she barely had a moment to react. She stilled her breathing, eyes forming in the back of her head and the tip of her shoulders, looking around frantically.
There.
She waited until the last possible moment, then transformed her legs into Hitmontop legs and jumped much more suddenly than she would have normally been able to, the real projectile missing her by a hair's width while the others phased through her. The explosion ruffled her hair as she vaulted back and caught herself on the thick branch of a tree with her foot, hanging upside down as a hail of gathered snow fell on her.
Ah. Ten for execution, but six for presentation I'd say.
"How did you know?"
Mars looked down –or up, from her perspective– and let go of the breath she'd been holding. "Shadows. Only one of those Moonblast was casting a real shadow; the rest just glowed for glowing's sake."
No response came, but she perfectly imagined the frown on Asta's face. True, that hadn't been all. Gardevoir could have easily made any of the fake attacks switch place with the real one by using Teleport, reason which she'd waited until the last possible moment to dodge. Mars knew that, and it appeared Asta knew that she knew, which meant that Mars knew that Asta knew that she knew and…
"Ugh… headache," she sighed. "Then again, that might be because I'm hanging upside down from a tree. Bad for blood circulation, that i–"
Even Mars couldn't help but shiver as every pair of eyes shot up toward her, lighting up with a malicious glow. She felt the attack in her stomach before she could see it. A thousand wisps of pink light spun in a spiral around her, ready to coalesce in a single point and unleash an implosion that would most likely cause her to burst from the inside out. Mars frowned. That wouldn't be a pleasant way to go.
The wisps converged. A pair of wings, black as night, burst from Mars' back, their feathers sharp enough to effortlessly cut a hole in her outfit. There was a burst of light and a flurry of wind and hail imploded from where she was, making the branches above shake violently.
Mars could almost hear the sigh in Asta's voice as the light dissipated yet she was still there, draped from head to toe in that impressive wingspan, covering her like a blanket.
"Mandibuzz wings," observed Asta, a hint of irritation in her voice. "You've gotten better, it seems. You've learned how to imbue the things you create with their intrinsic qualities, like type and their resistances and immunities?"
Despite Asta being the one who said that, she couldn't help but feel a tinge of pride at the comment. It'd been hard, yes. And wings like these were useless other than to shield against psychic attacks –her body too heavy for them to lift her up properly– but still she was glad she'd practiced so hard on making them. There was no real pride in her actions, no, but at the very least the expertise with which she carried them could bring her some amount of satisfaction.
She sucked the wings back into herself and let her foot slip, rolling in mid air before landing with ease. The glares of the Gardevoir were still set on her. Gods were those eyes creepy.
"You say I'm bitter," came Asta's words again, her tone careful and deliberate. "Not likely. Sure, getting out of prison after so long and finding out that my only regular employers were murdered by you was… a nasty surprise at first, but it did end up opening a much bigger window of opportunity soon after." Despite her being nowhere to be seen, Mars could tell she was shrugging. "You took my job from me, I took yours. We're even, as far as I'm concerned."
Mars cocked an eyebrow. "You've got an odd way of showing it."
"A job is a job," said Asta, matter of factly. "This is our way, Siffa. Just because we belonged to the same group, just because you were my pupil, it doesn't mean I'll take it easy on you when time comes to make ends meet."
The Gardevoir shifted again. Mars moved almost automatically, growing one of those black wings again and using it as a shield as a hail of psychic arrows pelted her like bullets.
"Agh… still, you're certainly enthusiastic about this assignment," Mars breathed out, wincing from the impact. "I'm pretty sure I heard you ignore your Poketch ringing a few times already."
There was a short, awkward silence. "Jupiter offered me three of her salaries in exchange for bringing her your head."
Mars couldn't help it. She let laughter rise from her stomach like steam from a kettle, and soon she had to place a hand against her face to stifle it.
"Classic Jupiter. So she is going through with what she promised me, eh? Gods I miss her." She shook her head, breathing out. "Anyway, that's all? Is money really your only motivation in hunting me so thoroughly?"
Another second of silence. Another second bought as Mars tried –as calmly as possible– to come up with a likely way to get out of this alive. All things considered, she probably should have done so when she had the time. Oh well, she'd always been a procrastinator anyway.
"…Of course," Asta finally said. "What other reason could I possibly have?"
Mars' grin widened.
"Oh I am so glad you asked." She clapped her hands, the cheeriness of her voice dissonant to the cruelty in her eyes. "Come here for a moment, will you? I have to show you something."
Asta's hesitation could be felt in the air, in the cold and stillness of the forest and the hundred red-eyed shades littering it, patiently waiting for an order. None came. The sound of snow crunching broke the silence, urging Mars to look up as a dark figure appeared from behind one of the trees at her right, bent and tilted by the sudden curving up of the terrain. Asta stood with one hand to the rough trunk, what little sunlight was left outlining her figure and hiding her face in shadows.
Hook, line and sinker.
This wasn't the real Asta, of course, merely another illusion, but that didn't matter as long as the real one was watching.
"I knew you were tailing me from the beginning," said Mars, crossing her arms. "Not because I was paying attention, mind you. It was all thanks to you." She breathed out, shaking her head. "Have you gotten rusty after all those years in prison? Or was it something else?"
Asta said nothing. The Gardevoir twitched nervously in place, their postures telling her that they were ready to attack at a moment's notice.
"You weren't trying to follow me. You were trying to race me. Beat me to my destination. That's why you hung around in all the, let's say scenes of the crime, even after I left. You were searching for survivors."
Asta scoffed dismissively. "I was studying your methods. Crafting a strategy to…"
"You always wondered, didn't you?" Mars interrupted her. "You asked yourself 'Did she really kill them? There's no body, no signs of struggle, but still… they're gone'. You always harbored at least a little bit of hope. The hope I dangled in front of you like a carrot in a stick." She giggled, looking down at her hand as she played with her fingers. "And then I left that final little reminder for you in Solaceon, with the Galactic grunts. I made sure to be as brutal and to leave as much of a mess as possible. Just for you."
"Was that what you were trying to get across?" asked Asta, voice plain. "I didn't notice."
Mars looked up at her, a grin like a hook on her face. "They were your friends, weren't they?"
"Who?" Asta replied, too fast.
"Back then, I never finished the job. I killed the ones on top, the ones who came up with the idea to turn me and so many other kids into… this." She gesticulated toward herself. "But they weren't the only ones responsible, were they? They funded the project, yes, but they also had to look for people ruthless and qualified enough to train us. People who were skilled enough, but didn't care about the morality of their job as long as they were paid well." She glared at Asta. "You and your friends. Our tutors. You cared about them deeply."
A sudden gust of wind blew through the patch of forest they were in, the grinding sound of the branches as they bent not much different from what Mars imagined Asta grinding her teeth sounded like.
"There is only honor among thieves. Nothing more, nothing less."
"Oh." Mars made her eyes go wide, shoulders dropping. "Well, how silly of me, then. I guess I was wrong. I guess you won't care one bit to find out I killed every single one of them, then?"
"You're trying to upset me, to make me careless. It won't happen. And besides, as long as you don't have any proof…"
Mars dug into the folds of her jacket and pulled out a closed burlap bag the size of her palm, tied shut with string. Dark red stains accumulated at the bottom.
Asta let out a sound almost like a gasp. "You…"
"Have a look for yourself if you're not convinced."
The bag phased through a few of the fake Gardevoir as it flew, landing at the base of the mound fake Asta stood on. It opened on impact, dozens of small, oblong shapes scattering about in the snow in an unseen pattern, staining red the white under them. They were all roughly the same size. Some thicker, some paler, some with calluses on their tips colorful paint on their nails.
Asta looked down at the dozens of severed fingers and made a sound like stifling a gasp.
"Take your time. Look as carefully as you want," said Mars, hand still extended forward, a malicious gleam in her eyes. "Though if you were as close to them as I presume, I'm sure it'll take you no time to recognize each finger."
As Mars said that, she kept her body tense and her gaze alert, ready to move at a moment's notice. Any moment now…
The copies wavered, like static in a T.V, their eyes gleaming like blazing rubies. Asta's copy took a sudden step forward, a sharp intake of breath resounding through the air, and Mars allowed herself a satisfied smile. Hook, line and sinker indee–
They stopped. There was a second of silence and then the fake Asta vanished, leaving only the multitude of Gardevoir to keep her company. No attack came. Not one of them rushed forward. Mars' smile dropped.
"…Right. You almost had me there."
Mars reacted immediately as the flash of light came, but the attack wasn't aimed at her. The ground at the base of the mound exploded with light, sending splotches of dirt and snow in all directions, as well as the bag and fingers whose outlines were covered in psychic flames. A sharp pain shot through her.
Shit…
In an instant the fingers and bag transformed, losing their shape and turning a soft shade of pink as they retreated back into Mars' body with a slick, disgusting sound like a Grimer being sucked up by a storm drain. She grit her teeth and turned over her arm a bit, examining the parts that had been burned. Steam rose from her skin. It would take a while for it to regenerate.
Asta's voice filled the air. "You transformed some of Ditto's essence into the bag and each individual finger, tying them together with a thread that was the same color as the snow, so I wouldn't notice." Her voice was low and collected, like that of a professor examining her student's project. "With this, plus your goading, you intended me to lose control and order Gardevoir to attack you blindly. Once she got close enough to the bag and fingers, you'd transform them into spikes that would jut out of the ground and skewer her."
Sweat ran down Mar's face. She had to stop herself from swallowing.
"That's why you threw the bag so strongly too, so the fingers would scatter and cover as much ground as possible." There was a hint of respect in Asta's voice. "I admit, I expected much less from you. You've impressed me, Siffa."
Mars leered at where her fake body had previously been, her expression like broken glass. "I don't go by that name anymore."
"Oh, I doubt you'll be going by anything soon. But anyway, because you've impressed me so, I'll give you what you wanted and take this seriously. Sabrina…" The eyes of each Gardevoir gleamed crimson. "…Misty Terrain."
All the illusions vanished in a flash. The real Gardevoir stood at the top of the mound where the fake Asta had previously been, arms drawn to the side, looking down at Mars with a gaze like a red hot knife. She breathed in, then closed her eyes, and the wind stilled. Snow ceased to fall. When she let go of her breath, an entirely new blizzard swept down like a wave of mist crashing against the clearance they were in, tendrils of pale pink converging in spirals and joining one another until even the dark edges of the forest were completely covered.
Mars drew her arms back as they transformed into a pair of comically huge flat hands like those baseball fans made out of styrofoam, only much thicker and with only three fingers. With a grunt, she brought one of the Hariyama hands down. The mists parted in a straight line, then immediately reformed. Gritting her teeth, she spun on the ball of her feet and dragged the other hand in a circle, using every ounce of strength she had to dispel the mist re-forming around her.
Gardevoir didn't wait for her to finish. Her figure appeared as though from nowhere, hovering above Mars as she brought down a swirling ball of energy down on her head. Mars raised her free arm and transformed it back almost to normal, except now a round shield grew from her elbow to the back of her hand, golden and emblazoned with three circles in the shape of a nine in the center. The Moonblast exploded as soon as it came into contact, almost blowing the shield out of her hands. Mars gasped as the back of it crashed against her face, the power of the explosion burying the soles of her shoes a few inches into the snow. Gardevoir vaulted over the blast and readied another attack; sharp, jutting edges of psychic energy forming a blade around her arm, her body falling as elegantly as a feather.
The dizziness left Mars a moment late to react. She threw herself back but the tip of the psychic blade slid under her arm and cut into her side, a few inches above her chest. A trail of cloth and blood was left behind as she jumped away. Back into the mists. Mars swiped at the air once before her feet touched the ground but the small space it created for her was filled less than a second after by the semi-transparent pink tendrils, plunging her into the mists once more. It stuck to her like glue and the thickness of it made it almost impossible to see more than a few inches around her. Not to mention she was pretty sure that Gardevoir could perfectly sense anything that happened within the terrain her mists touched, which posed an additional problem.
Gardevoir wasted no time, jumping off the air itself as she lunged at her once more. Mars instinctively raised the shield but the psychic blade –and the rest of Gardevoir as well– phased through and burst into pink-ish smoke. She froze, then barely reacted as the real blade came from behind her. It grazed the skin under her shoulder and whistled past like an arrow, dissipating along with the rest of the Pokemon's body.
Mars took a sharp breath. Another few drops of blood fell to her feet, swallowed by the mist. She raised her shield again, gaze flying all around her, trying to get the barest glimpse of her foe as she flew through the air.
She could have sworn the first attack had been the real Gardevoir. So then she wasn't using the mist just to hide herself; they powered her up, too. Smaller illusions, but more powerful. Not to mention…
Another Moonblast came from above. Mars couldn't, in good conscience, say that she dodged it seeing as she tripped on the root of a tree and fell backwards as the attack exploded in between her feet. The sudden gust of wind helped her stand up; she landed on a small mound at her left, in between two thick pine trees. Almost ran into one of them, as a matter of fact. All because, though she was running, the mists around her didn't feel like they changed at all.
They're moving with me, she thought, smiling a tired smile. So I can't take this fight outside. Great.
"Teacher, I have a question!" she yelled as she moved about, trying to make herself sound calm. "What was I supposed to do when trapped inside a misty cloud with a psychotic murder-happy Gardevoir chasing me down? I know we covered that in the curriculum at some point!"
Her quip was most graciously rewarded with yet another shower of psychic arrows straight at her face. Mars threw herself to the side. She landed on the palm of her left hand and vaulted over right as Gardevoir materialized under her with a puff of light, her bladed arm slicing the air in an arc toward her wrist. With an exerting grunt, Mars kicked down and spun vertically, the heel of her shoe missing the back of the Pokemon's head by an instant as she blinked away once more.
Her feet touched the ground, leaving her momentarily out of balance. She heard something behind her and spun on the ball of her feet, a moment later realizing that it was simply Asta's voice.
"Didn't I teach you anything, Siffa?" She sounded almost disappointed. "I'm trying to kill you. The least you could do is respect me by taking that seriously."
Mars grinned, extending both arms to the side as they began to bubble and shift. "You said it yourself. It's very likely that you're about to kill me; why on earth would I give you the added satisfaction of watching me squirm and suffer?"
"Hm. A shame. I never was able to drill some of my teachings into you, it seems. Let's see if I can drill something else instead."
Mars heard a sound like whistling. A shift in the mist at her right, the mild glow of something long and sharp. She swiped at the air with her shield, but her eyes went wide as Gardevoir finally came into view; the psychic energy coating her arm was different, less curved and smooth, double edged and with a few spiked depressions at the side. A weapon for stabbing, not slicing.
She held firm, intend to block it. Gardevoir's eyes gleamed just before the impact. The mist coalesced in a spiral at the tip of the blade as though it were a vortex and Mars barely noticed its length disappearing into it before something pierced her from behind. Her face scrunched up in pain and she gasped, a bit of mist getting into her throat and burning her like it was poison. Vision blurred. Her squinted eyes caught another glimpse of movement. A second blade headed for her neck.
A wet, jutting mass of flesh sprouted from Mars' chest, dark and formless, and instinctively pushed against Gardevoir who had no choice but jump back, stopping her attack.
Mars staggered back, her shirt wide open in the middle and the pink mass of flesh retreating once more into her body. Each step was agony. Something… something on her back, beneath her ribs, felt cold and numb. Too painful, too searing. By now she was more than an expert when it came to pain, and knew well how to distinguish between a simple wound and a fatal one. Resigned, she held her breath and concentrated. Some of Ditto's mass stretched toward the wound, closing the skin and repairing the tissue of her pierced liver, imitating the organ's structure.
The pain faded, but some of the shock remained. As used as she was to bodily harm, being stabbed wasn't something you got used to no matter how many times it happened. She breathed in and out, weakly looking around for any more sudden movements in the mist.
"I've been informed…" Asta's voice sprouted from somewhere, directed at her. "…that you can instantly heal your wounds by using Ditto's mass. I was wondering why you hadn't done it the previous two times you were wounded, but I get it now. You were lying just before, weren't you?"
Mars tried to form a smile, though the muscles of her face didn't feel very cooperative at the moment. That cold bitch. She probably thought that Mars would only use Ditto to patch herself up when dealt a very serious injury, nothing less. That was good for her. Unfortunately, it also pissed her right the hell off. How dare she imply that she was taking this seriously?
"You can't beat me, Mars." Her voice was a command, but there was no pride or over-confidence in her voice. She simply stated facts. "I taught you every trick you know, and much more than that. Oh, but don't think I'm saying this as a way to get you to surrender. Please, do continue struggling. You'd disappoint me even more otherwise."
Mars glared at the mist in front of her, spitting to the side. "You weren't my only teacher."
"Yes, of course, that delusion of yours. You would rely on the teachings of a dead girl who betrayed you to beat me, Siffa? The teachings of the ghost of vengeance you so desperately chase?"
"I would rely on anything to win," she snapped back. "Anything but seriousness, of course."
She felt it then, felt Gardevoir approach from behind even before the mists shifted. Her body moved on its own. Skin bubbled and shifted, tendrils of pink flesh rising from her arms and chest like coiling worms. Time seemed to crawl.
Yes… that's the one step she'd never take. Because if she stopped smiling and cracking jokes, if she stopped making fun of herself and her victims, if for even one second she took all this bloodshed seriously, then… then she wouldn't be any different from that idiotic girl who'd gotten herself betrayed, would she?
Mars closed her eyes and felt the moment as though she were living it. Dark shapes, clouds of dust, a pair of hurt yet empathetic eyes staring up at her, slowly losing their color. Two bloodied hands grasping at each other. A hellish beast flying high above, death standing on top, her eyes a green so cold and uncaring they could have passed for grey.
Siffa had died that day. Something much worse had taken her place.
Mar's eyes flew open. A storm of flesh exploded from her. She threw her head back and drank in the pain, the wonderful, intoxicating pain like a noxious cloud of red covering her eyes. Forced, uncanny laughter left her lips. Dozens of tendrils jutted all around her like whips, shifting from one shape to the other like a person with a thousand faces, arms becoming legs which then turned into claws which then exploded into eyes and mouths and noses.
Gardevoir's expression twitched. The barest hint of repulsion, the smallest speck of fear. One of the tendrils brushed her arm, making her wince. Unable to teleport due to the loss of concentration, or perhaps too shocked to do so, she lowered her hands toward the ground and let out an explosion of psychic energy that propelled her high into the air, a safe distance from Mars' reach. There she hovered, extending both arms to the side as pulsing spheres of dark light manifested in her hands.
The swirling mass of pink began to retreat back into Mars but she forced it out, instead covering herself with it as though it were armor. Enormous black wings grew from her back. Her legs became long and coiled. The shield that previously rested on the back of her right arm transferred to the left and the other one shifted into a Scyther's blade with incredible ease, as though welcoming an old friend. Her skin opened up in various places throughout her body, eyes jutting out of her shoulders, back, nape and stomach, each one the same cold, furious red as her real ones.
Each piece in place, Mars drew in a deep breath. The transformation was unstable; too much mass spread out toward different places, too many parts to control at the same time. She couldn't control it unless she took this seriously.
Or unless she gave herself to it. The red mist, the intoxicating pain, agony and anger she'd been saving up all this time. Saving for the one who had caused it in the first place. Saving it for Shadi.
Oh well, she thought, letting go of the breath. I'll just have to pretend she's her for a minute.
She could live with that. She intended to, as a matter of fact.
The ground broke under her feet as she jumped, a shockwave of air and snow exploding in a circle around her. Mist seemed to part as she flew, as though burned by her touch. She sliced at the air just as Gardevoir brought both balls of energy down on her. A flash of darkness, an explosion of pain. Mars was thrown back, her foe nowhere to be seen. She spun in mid air and extended one of her Hitmonlee legs down, kicking the ground and pushing herself up once more just as Gardevoir materialized in mid air, blades of psychic energy covering her arms.
Mars batted both wings forward in an attempt to dispel the energy but Gardevoir stopped her flight with a sudden jolt, as though pulled back by a string. The tip of the wings missed her by inches. She threw both arms to the side and the energy coating them exploded into hundreds of glowing needles which flew above and below the extended wingspan to reach Mars' body. She swiped at the air with the back of her hand, dispelling most of them with her shield, but couldn't do anything to block the ones that came from below. A gasp caught in her throat as dozens of needles dug into her legs and lower torso, sending shocks of immobilizing pain all throughout her body. The warmth of blood replaced them a second after.
M-more, more! the beast taking over her yelled inside her head. Lead her in a circle; make her spill more blood!
She kicked up but Gardevoir was far gone by then. Her leg uncoiled with the speed of a bullet, crashing against the crown of a tree and burying its feet into the sturdy wood as though it were foam. A light shone above. Hundreds of thin threads of light converging around her location. That horrible whistling in her ears. Mars grit her teeth and coiled that leg again, throwing herself toward the tree just before the energy imploded in her location. The world blurred as she flew through the air vertically, arms thrown back. She batted at the air with her wings in opposite directions and spun herself as she crashed against the trunk, lowering her knees and stabbing the Scyther blade against the wood to keep herself in place. She held her breath, eyes wide open.
The mists stood still. No sounds could be heard other than that of the leaves falling around her, dancing through the air, green cutting into pink. Mars exhaled, then swallowed.
Where…?
Snapping wood. The sound came a moment before the trunk of the tree vibrated and she tensed her legs to jump again, but wasn't fast enough. Gardevoir ran her arm through the back of the tree with the ease of a knife cutting butter, its glowing tip exiting through the other side and stabbing through the eye in Mars' back.
Air left her. In desperation she jumped and sliced at the tree with all her strength, separating the crown from the trunk with a clean cut. The blade phased through Gardevoir. Another illusion. She'd switched places right after stabbing her. Both Mars and the top of the tree toppled back, mists parting with ease before them as they crashed into the ground.
The back of her head hit the snow and her vision blackened for a moment. Her parts moved on their own; wings pushing her up to her knees and other pairs of eyes frantically looking around for any other attacks. Mars herself was too stunned. She parted her lips to breathe, but no air came. A horribly sharp pain throbbed in her back as she got to her feet, dwarfing all the others with ease. She was suffocating.
Lung! Lunglunglunglung!
The mass that formed the eye on her back retreated, closing the wound and forming new tissue where her lung had been pierced. She finally gasped in some air, body shaking. Unfortunately she was forced to gasp it out again as Gardevoir materialized before her and shot a point-blank Moonblast at her face.
She raised her shield but only caught half of it. The explosion blinded her. She felt herself flying through the air, bits and pieces of her breaking and reforming over the stinging burns on her face. Her legs and wings re-oriented her mid flight and she was able to land on her feet before crashing against another tree, eyes flying open with difficulty, their vision foggy. It hurt to keep them open. It hurt to do anything, really, but she was pretty sure that last attack had done some sort of permanent damage.
Oh well.
Gardevoir came at her again, flying through the air, a hail of psychic arrows trailing behind her.
Mars' body leapt forward on its own. She wasn't in control anymore; all she could do was let out a furious scream as every inch of her morphed and twisted and moved in the way it needed to in order to keep her alive. She hated it. Hated being a puppet for someone else, even if that someone was still a miniscule part of her. But she couldn't die. She wouldn't die, not until she found her.
Not until she found the answer to the question that burned deep within her.
Seconds passed. Everything was a blur of color, lights and pain as she zipped through the mists, slashing and blocking and dodging to the best of her abilities, but even that wasn't enough. Gardevoir zipped through the air like a mote of light, like the flash of lighting. Energy poured out from her at an incredible rate, making her glow like a miniature pink sun, the very air bending around her power, the psychic plane breaking and reforming by her will alone. Each of Mars' swings was dodged, each strategy soundly countered. More and more of her blood sprayed the ground beneath her feet, each clash causing more wounds, slicing and piercing more of her skin as she slowly bled out.
Mars fought a monster. The Pokemon's body was weak, her frame so fragile that even a child could break her bones if she allowed them to. But her psychic power was so overwhelmingly devastating that such a weakness didn't matter in the slightest. She couldn't be touched. Her strength couldn't be challenged. Mars now knew why her and Asta had been such a terrifying force during the war, why the mere mention of their names was enough to make entire platoons flee on sight.
Another Moonblast slammed into her shield, lifting her feet from the ground. Her vision grew dark. Adrenaline flooding her body, she forced herself to move anyway, slamming the ground with her feet as she jumped straight up.
Gardevoir burst from a cloud of light above her, hovering, gaze set on her. Mars bellowed with rage and stabbed forward with her right arm but the Pokemon slapped it out of the way as though it were an annoying fly. Mars grunted. Both wings batted forward, slicing through the air toward her. Sparks of light showered them as they hit a fake body, an illusion, the real Gardevoir slipping past the extended wingspans and appearing inches from Mars' face.
Time slowed to a crawl. The both of them hovered horizontally in the air, moments from falling. Gardevoir raised both hands and tried to place them against Mars' chest, who simply closed her real eyes and looked through the ones jutting out of her shoulders. The ground under her was stained with her blood in a huge circle, the two of them hovering above the middle. She smiled, knowing that if she wanted to, she could block her opponent's next attack.
She didn't. Gardevoir let out a blast of psychic energy from the palms of her hands and Mars dropped with the strength of a cannonball. Consciousness left her for a few heartbeats. Every one of her transformations dispelled, wings and eyes and sword and shield retracting back into her body as her concentration faded.
Mars opened her eyes, a cloud of dirt and snow rising from the outline of her body. She laid on her back, arms and legs sprawled out, and high above her Gardevoir stood on the air itself, energy coalescing in her hands.
This is it.
Gardevoir fell on her like a bullet. Even if she wanted to react, Mars knew that she wouldn't have been fast enough.
The impact blinded her with pain. The sound of pierced skin and broken bones throbbed inside her head like a second heartbeat, deafening her. Gardevoir stabbed each blade into Mars' open palms, running them through and burying them into the ground below, her knees crashing against the woman's legs with such force that the bones shattered.
"Now, Sabrina. Hold her."
Then came the worst part. An invisible, crushing force fell on her like a mantle made of iron, each cell in her body being pulled inward as though a black hole had been opened inside her chest. She couldn't move. Couldn't blink, could barely breathe and, as she discovered with a rush of panic a moment after, couldn't even transform herself in any way.
"Well, you certainly gave it your best, I suppose."
The mists vanished into the air as though slapped away by a giant hand, ushering forth the roar of the blizzard and the hail of snow to take over once more. Mars tried to breathe in but her head swam with pain. The rushing of the wind was undistinguishable from her own heartbeat throbbing in her ears, a quick, panicked rapport. Through the edge of her vision she saw Asta approach. The real Asta. She walked with her hands in her pockets and a poised, yet smug expression on her face.
She stopped beside Mars, sneering down at her.
"I'd ask if you have any last words, but I know better than to open myself up for a crude insult." She glanced at Gardevoir, lips drawn into a line. "Do it. Take it out of her."
The Pokemon lifted her arms, cupping her hands on top of Mars' chest. The psychic knives remained in place nonetheless, pinning her to the ground.
Her eyes flashed, and Mars screamed.
There were no words. No feeling, no concept of time, no form of awareness or consciousness that could process the amount of pain she felt in those few moments as Ditto's mass was ripped from her flesh. It was nothing like losing a limb. It wasn't even like having an organ forcibly taken out. Mars somehow felt as her cells and nerves were severed with extreme precision, splitting apart like two distinct substances that had been cast together, like two metals that had formed a new alloy being separated once again. It felt like a piece of her soul being siphoned away.
Finally, after seconds that felt like eons, the last of it was extracted. Mars slumped against the ground, numb from head to toe, eyes wide and mouth gaping, a look of utter agony on her face. Above her, Gardevoir held most of Ditto's shifting mass inside a psychic bubble. It struggled to escape, to break its cage, to no avail.
Gardevoir floated up, rising to her feet. The psychic knives dispelled into puffs of light and soon blood began to pour out, not only from her hands but from every other wound in her body. Mars felt no pain. She felt practically nothing, her nerves burned to numbness, but she could tell that there was something wrong inside of her. Her liver and lungs were still pierced. She would die in minutes.
"Send it away, Sabrina."
Gardevoir nodded, then made the bubble shift and vanish with a wave of the hand, sending it back to base most likely. Mars stared at her with faded, glassy eyes. She twitched her head slightly, looking at her right and then at her left with what little strength remained in her. Blood splatters formed an almost perfect circle with them in the middle.
Mars smiled. It was a weak gesture, the edges of her lips quirking up slightly.
"It was a pleasure, Siffa, but we'll be taking our leave. May your death be either painless or–"
"Y-you missed…."
Asta froze midway through turning around, then looked over her shoulder with a raised eyebrow. "What did you say?"
Mars met her eyes and smiled a terrible smile of bloody teeth.
"You missed a spot."
It happened in a blink. Every single blood splatter around them began to bubble and shift as though brought to a boil, and then dozens of thin, needle-like spikes shot up with the speed of a bullet. The roaring of the blizzard muffled the sound of flesh being pierced. Gardevoir was lifted from her feet, spikes jutting out of her arms, legs, chest and throat, her eyes wide in shock and pain.
The fake blood began to retreat. Mars jumped to her feet, every inch of her body feeling like it'd been wrung out and seared, but she shoved all that to the back of her mind and lunged forward, shifting mass forming into a Scyther's blade in her arm.
It was a clean cut. Gardevoir's body slumped against the ground and her head followed an instant later, bouncing on the snow once before rolling back against the roots of a pine tree, blood rushing out of the cut, staining red the white underneath.
Mars breathed out and time started passing again. She dismissed the Scyther arm and used most of the mass to cover up and heal her most critical injuries. A sharp gasp was heard as her lungs were sealed and she was able to breathe again, sensation slowly returning to her body, an all-encompassing, dazing heat covering her from head to toe.
She turned to look at Asta. The woman didn't scream, she simply stared ahead with a dazed, disbelieving look on her face, all semblance of color gone from her expression. There was a moment of stillness and she fell to her knees, almost crumpling into herself. Tears ran down her face.
"How…?" Her voice was less than a whisper. "I… we were sure… Oh god, Sabrina…"
Mars made her neck click, then dusted off the snow and dirt off her tattered clothes before answering.
"Ditto mass transformed into a red, liquid substance, then covered in the actual blood from my wounds," she said, voice raspy and tired. "I had to be careful. Make sure the strings connecting each splatter were the same color as the ground and that the blood itself fell in a circle, all while jumping around and avoiding lethal injuries."
She frowned. Damn, her shirt had been pretty much sliced in half by her outburst earlier. Not like she minded going around bare-chested, embarrassment over nakedness being something she'd never partaken in, but still, she liked that shirt.
"The thing with the bag and fingers was a distraction," she continued. "I made the strings there intentionally sloppy so you'd see through that and think I wouldn't try something like that again. Fool your opponent by making them think you're beneath them, then pull the rug from under their feet." She took a moment to breathe, her expression blank. "Shadi taught me that."
Asta shook her head weakly, the haunted look on her face akin to broken glass. "N-no…the mass, we took it, she took it all away…"
"I told you she'd missed a spot."
Mars rolled back her right sleeve, showing her the space where an arm should have been. A low gasp left Asta's lips.
"It can't… We weren't told…"
"No one knows," said Mars. "I wanted to save the surprise for Shadi, then again…" She shrugged. "It's not like you'll be telling anyone."
That was enough, it seemed. Asta fell back, crumpling into a broken heap of clothes and limbs, eyes hidden by shadows. It didn't look like she'd move again. Mars sighed, then morphed her right hand into a Pawniard's blade. A smaller weapon than she usually preferred. Unfortunately, she wouldn't be able to form a Scyther's arm any time soon, at least until her wounds healed on their own.
"Oh, by the way…" She smiled, digging into her pocket with her left hand. "The first one was a fake, yeah, but…"
The small bag landed at Asta's feet, opening up and scattering about a small pile of severed fingers, exactly the same as the last ones.
"That one's real. I did kill them."
A broken, agonized sob left Asta's lips. Her whole body shook with barely-contained spasms, her partner's blood pooling near her, slowly approaching.
"W-why?" she asked, looking up at Mars. "Why!?"
Mars met her gaze with her own; cold, deep and completely sane. She didn't smile.
"Because I want to know."
"Know wh–!?"
She buried the knife into Asta's forehead. The woman let out a last, tiny gasp, then went soft as her body fell back into Sabrina's pool of blood, and moved no more.
Mars stared at the bodies for a few seconds, feeling numb. The red of her eyes was faded and distant.
"I want to know what she felt when she did this to me."
Shadi dragged her feet across the dark hallway, a tired yet satisfied smile on her lips.
"I've been thinking," she said. "About the concept of glory."
Her steps echoed in the empty building. Slivers of moonlight filtered through the windows at her right, yet most of the place was completely covered in shadows. Despite this, her own shadow was quite distinct from the blackness surrounding it.
It had eyes, for one thing.
"Oh sure, everyone says they want to help out in some way. Make the world a better place. Yet when they're pressured further they always end up revealing that their goals aren't wholly altruistic; this is the part where they claim glory is the only reward they're after, as to save face." She kept her hand in her pocket and walked with a slow, resolute rhythm. "But that's rarely ever true. Monarchs, heroes, Champions, celebrities, they're all the same once you start paying attention.
"Let's say you present these people with a choice. A private choice, one that only they will know about. They can either rise to the top and become a recognized and beloved beacon of greatness, or…" She left the sentence hanging for a moment, tasting the pause. "…they can give up all semblance of fame and legacy in order to stop someone who would become the exact opposite of those who make the first choice. What do you think most would answer?"
She looked over her shoulder, the faded green of her eyes meeting the cold, bright blue of her shadow's. A voice spoke in her head.
"I despise you."
"Right, most would choose the first option. Even if the second would bring more peace and stability to the world, what would the point be if they can't take the credit for that?" She shook her head, though kept her eyes open. "So I can't help but think… isn't that what glory is, by definition? A greatness that has been recognized and celebrated by others? Does that mean that you can't obtain glory unless your good deeds have been publicized and approved of by the general public? Is it possible…?"
She reached the end of the hallway and turned right toward a flight of stairs lined with metal railings. Her eyes stung like she'd dropped soap on them. Letting out a sigh, she finally closed them after an entire minute, one hand taking hold of the railway.
Screams. A cacophony of agonized wails, bellows and whimpers boomed inside her mind, pulsing within it like a second heartbeat, sending a surge of pain all throughout her body.
Then whispers.
"Give up."
"It was your fault."
"Her blood is on your hands."
"The world would be a better place without you."
"It would be easy. Blissful. Follow the path your own hands have carved."
"Die. Diediediediedie."
Her eyes flew open and she gasped in a breath. They didn't sting anymore. Good; hopefully she could go another minute or two without blinking.
"…Is it possible to do something glorious, yet unrecognized or just flat out disregarded as villainy by others? That's the crux of the issue, I think." She smirked, looking over her shoulder once more. "By the way, you're getting less subtle each time, friend. When are you going to realize that won't work on me?"
"I don't care. You will know no peace for as long as you hold on to me. I'll make sure of that."
"Just like you made sure to get revenge on me?"
"I will. Eventually." There was a calm, cold rage in its voice. Controlled. "You will pay for what you did to me and my partner. Once you set me free, I will feast upon your mind and create a world of nightmares for you, from which you will never escape until I'm satisfied."
"Groovy. Keep at it then," she encouraged him. "The more you believe you can best me in the end, the more willing you'll be to cooperate for the time being."
"I hate you."
"I know."
She began walking up the stairs, her muscles feeling sore and her vision slightly blurry. Sleep would have been nice. Unfortunately, forcing Darkrai itself to bond with her soul meant that she couldn't quite find a moment to rest, lest he took control of her body and forced her to stab herself or something similarly grisly in order to free his soul. It'd taken her a while to find a way around that problem.
Luckily, through a mixture of meditation, drugs and some help from Ludwig, she'd managed to stay awake for the better part of the last two years.
She threw the door at the end of the flight of stairs open and walked into the rooftop of the Eterna Gym building. Nothing but a dark square of concrete. From up here, Shadi could see the city itself unfold around her like the petals of a flower, thin threads of moonlight filtering through the clouds and illuminating the town in patches. Subtle floral scents danced in the air, sour and citric, yet somehow also sweet. She breathed it in, feeling her muscles relax somewhat.
Eterna had always been her favorite city in all of Sinnoh. It really was a shame.
"All right. No point delaying it."
She brought her hand in front of her chest. Shadows began to coalesce around it, forming a deep and shifting pool of liquid darkness that rested in her palm. Slowly, carefully, Shadi raised her hand toward the sky. A single drop detached from the rest and fell upward. It flew for a few moments before touching something vast and invisible, making ripples in the night itself as though it were a sheet of liquid hovering high above the city.
The sky rippled for a few moments, then stilled. Shadi sighed in relief.
"Fourth portal set, three to go," she whispered to herself. "Sunnyshore's gonna be the hardest to set, there's just too much damn light in that place. Not to mention Volkner has pretty sharp eyes. I wish I could set one in Hearthome too, but there's no chance Fantina won't pick up on our presence if I go there. Oh well."
Talking to herself had always been calming for Shadi, in the same way as relaxing on a couch or watching T.V was for other people. She never understood why people thought it was weird. Who better to have as a conversation partner than yourself?
She shook her head, then froze for a moment. A thought came to her.
"Oh, that's right. I meant to ask this yesterday but it must have slipped off my mind." She looked over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow. "Mind telling me where my little sister is? Cyrus should have captured her by now."
