Virginia knelt with Catherine as they inspected Clive's comatose body. Jet and Gallows stood a short way away. Kaitlyn was holding onto her father's hand, and blatantly refused to let go. The golem had been silent for quite some time, and though they wanted to break it open and dispatch the fiend within, they were no longer under any serious threat and wanted to attend to their friend first. Jet had volunteered to keep a close eye upon the golem, should it choose to reactivate, so he stood with his back to the others, his ARM permanently trained on the crimson monstrosity. If the golem were to move an inch, Jet would cover it with a volley of hot lead bullets.
Gallows, being the team medic, approached a put a hand over Clive's brow, checking for a fever. He got the exact opposite, it was like touching the cold body of a corpse. If Clive hadn't been breathing, Gallows could have easily mistaken him for stone dead. "Geez," The priest whispered, "I ain't never seen anything like this before. Uh, what's his reaction time? Does he have a reaction? Should I check for a reaction?"
"His fingers move sometimes…" Catherine inputted softly. "It is almost like he is trying to grasp something that is not there. His tail twitches a bit too. He is still alive, but, he just won't wake up…" She leant over and brushed some of Clive's hair out of his face, but the drifter continued to bear the calm and unknowing expression of somebody immersed in an incredibly deep sleep. Catherine still couldn't forget the last expression Clive had had on his face before he had blacked out, one of sheer surprise, and almost fear. He had looked afraid.
"Tail?" Virginia asked aloud, confused. Then, she looked Clive over and understood. "Oh, I see." She said sullenly. "So, I guess that what Shane said was right. We can't fix this part, we were too late…" The drifter sighed, and rubbed the side of her temple tiredly. "I want to get out of here. We've come so far, and now it's come to this." Gently, she prodded Clive in the chest. He made no reaction. Virginia sighed. "Clive, please wake up…"
Growling, Gallows spun around to face the golem and had to bite back a word that he just couldn't say in Kaitlyn's presence. Instead, he shook his fist at the crimson giant, upset. "Why the hell is it just sitting there?!" He demanded to know. "Why did it stop fighting?! Was it because Clive conked out? Damn it! Can't I just summon Schturdark on it's ass and flatten it to Kingdom Come?!" Jet turned suddenly and grabbed Gallows by the arm, his lavender eyes fraught with his own brand of apathetic anger.
"No!" Both Jet and Catherine shouted at the same time, the short word echoing off the wide expanse of the room. Jet held Gallows in his spot while Catherine quickly stood and looked up at him, full of concern. Both the youth and the ex-drifter seemed to have the same thought on their minds. Catherine shivered. "Gallows, this place has collapsed before. It is so very unstable here, even one little tremor could destroy this entire room. Please trust me, I was nearly killed here before. It is bad enough that we have an ancient golem to deal with, lumbering around and trying to destroy us." Catherine looked towards Diablo with mixed feelings. "All I know is that Ravendor understands this too. That is why he has refrained from using the golem's full power. He would not want to kill us in that way."
Jet cut in. "You know, she's right. 'Sides, if a Guardian was to burst in through the wall, or make a tidal wave, or break through the floor, or start a tornado in here, then we're all dead meat." He patted one of his pockets, where he kept all his mediums. "We'll just have to use our brains to beat this thing, not that you'd know anything about that, Gallows." He almost smiled after saying that remark, but caught himself in time. Gallows huffed, and sat down heavily, knowing when he was beaten.
Hisssssssssss…
Virginia tried to visualize what it would have been like if she had decided to summon her own medium, Grudiev, into their last skirmish. She shuddered, the tremors would have destroyed them all. Kaitlyn was sitting quietly beside her, and though she had finally stopped crying only a little while ago, her face was still wet with tears. Of all of them, besides Clive, this must have been the hardest on her. Thank the gods that she was still alive. The entire Maxwell Gang was now ringed around Clive's body, sitting down, taking a breather. Kaitlyn tugged on the sleeve of Virginia's dress. "I heard a snake." She said hesitantly. Jet overheard her, and bluntly told the girl, that from his own knowledge, no kinds of snakes lived in the Dune Canyon. Kaitlyn blinked. "…But I heard a hiss." She protested.
Jet looked put-off. "Well, the only other things that I know of that make a hissing noise are cats, Gallows's granny, and steam…" Information clicked into place inside the android's mind. Steam? What produced steam? Far too late, he noticed the huge back shadow looming over the entire team, as they had been set into a false sense of security from the lack of sound. Golems made sound when they moved, but…
Diablo was wreathed in a haze of shadow, thick and suffocating, they acted as a silencer across the giant machine's grating movements, magic and technology joined as one. Periodically, steam hissed out in a tiny expulsion of noise, but it was so quiet, an almost toneless sound. The Maxwell Gang had been ambushed, and Jet, being the first to notice, acted first. The sounds of his gatling attack rung throughout the air, and the boy swore as Diablo reached out for him, but he didn't move, because this gave the others enough time to escape. Virginia was the last to run, and only because Gallows was dragging her with him, also supporting Clive between Catherine at the same time.
The thick metal fingers tightened around Jet's body, crushing his ribs and his internal organs while pain shot down every nerve in his body and screamed for release. He was lifted off his feet like a child would pick up a small raggedy doll, and without the full use of both his arms, the silver-haired android could not struggle free. He wriggled, but the motion only made him lose his grip on his airget-lamh and it fell a considerable distance to the floor, rattling as it made it's impact. Virginia glanced up and her face shifted into a look of utter panic, and she had to be restrained by Gallows who was standing nearby. "Jet!" She cried, trying to rip her arm away from Gallows's grip so she could save him, "Are you okay?! Jet?!"
"Does it fucking look like I'm okay?!" He growled through clenched teeth, his body rigid with the agony of being squeezed to death. The boy groaned as he felt two of his ribs snap under the pressure, and his dark shirt became wet with escaping blood. He felt like a sponge being wrung dry, and as he focussed his blurry vision upon the crimson golem destroying him, he became aware that the hologram they had met only a little while ago had returned. He was smiling with his hands in his coat pockets, and he looked like he bore not a shred of regret for the act he was now doing.
Enraged, Gallows let go of Virginia and hurled another shard of jagged ice straight at the hand that held Jet hostage, and once again it shattered on contact, leaving a little dark patch of moisture that faded after a few seconds. Ravendor shifted his gaze over to Gallows for a little while, softly rubbing at one of his wrists. "That nearly hurt," The bandit leader confessed, "Do it again. I felt a little tingle. Go ahead." Gallows glowered, and now it was Virginia's turn to hold the Baskar back, keeping her ground by digging her heels as deeply as she could into the ground.
"Ravendor…" Jet breathed, all the air being squashed out of his lungs, "Do us a favor and just die. What the fuck do you want from us, anyway?" He felt the blood from his broken ribs hemorrhaging inside of him, and sometimes the worst kind of injuries were ones that could not be openly seen. The android had the distinct feeling that he was going to implode at any given moment. Ravendor extended one of his arms, where his left hand had been clenched into a fist, and slowly released the tension, while Diablo did precisely the same thing. Jet sucked in a breath of sweet nourishing air and felt the torture subside a little, though he was still held captive.
"I do not want anything from you," Ravendor replied coldly, "Except maybe to see how long you can keep your intestines inside your body while I am torturing you. Please continue to amuse me for the time being, I have not had this much fun in years. Here, how does this feel?" He clenched his fist suddenly, and Jet screamed mindlessly, a tormented and wretched noise, while the audible sound of bones snapping was easily heard. Below them, Virginia screamed as well, but out of empathetic feeling from the boy. Gallows grabbed her and held her tight, while the girl finished her scream, and began to cry.
Jet coughed up blood in one great choke, and lost the ability to hold his head up, feeling his body going numb from the pressure. Blood had welled up at his middle and trickled down Diablo's fingers, making a dripping puddle under the youth's feet. But in that haze of pain, his ears still worked, and he heard Virginia cry. His lavender eyes, which were slowly dulling under the stress, immediately flickered back to life, as if called. A power from deep inside him came to life, like somebody striking a match, and the boy's aura became visible, manifest as a shining green light. The Maxwell Gang had seen this before. This was Jet's power. Gallows's eyes widened in surprise, and hope. The silver-haired boy's face became calm, losing all register of pain, while slowly, the aura within him detached from his body and crept gradually up the fire golem's arm., luminescent and mysterious.
It was Diablo's turn to scream. It's head reared back and uttered a monstrous bellow, not of anger or of contempt, but of pure simple pain. The machine was hurting, the machine was in agony. Being projected by the golem, the hologram of Ravendor doubled over and clutched at his wrist, the look on his face easily readable. He felt exactly what Diablo was feeling, and he didn't look so arrogant now. A gruesome kind of discoloration spread along the hologram's wrist and hand, and after a second, the drifters below recognized it as a black and white distortion of visible static. Ravendor's hologram was breaking down. "K-Kadmon… How are you… You are rewriting my programs with phenomenal speed! How is this possible?!" He turned toward the golem's body, the distortion spreading like wildfire. "Set up a firewall! I authorize it! Diablo, listen to me! Dammit… end this communica-"
The golem, trying to accept the commands, lost control of it's equalizer and fell backwards, smashing into the wall. It groaned loudly in pain, or maybe frustration as rocks crumbled under it's mass and the floor and ceiling shook from the pressure. Catherine let go of Clive's body and stood up, her face paling from a realization of what might occur. Diablo had hit the foundation hard. The ceiling might cave in, just as it had eleven years ago. It was now raining debris, and she covered her head with her hands, falling to her knees. The other drifters also did likewise, and Jet, though in torment, was protected by Diablo's armor around him. He was still screaming, and the youngest member of their entourage had finally decided that this was enough.
Kaitlyn tore herself away from the safety of the little niche with her mother, and ran, tears streaming down her face, towards the golem, rushed words being caught in her throat and robbed of clear speech. "Uncle Ravendor!" She cried, "Stop it! Please stop it now! Don't hurt Uncle Jet anymore! Let him go!" She came to a standstill right under where Jet was being held and balled her little hands into fists, wiping her face with the blue sleeve of her dress. "Please," The girl sobbed, "Stop it!"
Catherine ran a few paces over towards her daughter, but found herself frozen, unable to enter the battlefield with so many different dangers falling around her. Clive's body was left abandoned and the ex-drifter looked up, feeling her heart seemingly being wrenched from her body. A shadow appeared around Kaitlyn's body, unnoticed by her, but seen by everybody else. A huge part of the ceiling was breaking away from it's spot, and now it fell, almost slowly, towards the defenseless little girl. She was going to be crushed, she was going to die. Nobody could reach her. She was finished. "Kaitlyn!" Catherine screamed, making her decision and running towards her, although she knew it to be too late. The small girl realized her predicament far too late, gasping and throwing herself onto the ground. She cried, because this was to be the end…
…That never came. She felt a rush of wind over her back, and then an intense feeling of heat all over her body, combined with a sensation of suffocation. The air was so hot, it was difficult to breathe. Slowly, she opened her grey eyes, and saw her mother, from outside a barrier of thick crimson metal. The falling rock had rolled to the side after it had hit the back of Diablo's huge hand, shielding the girl from the crushing blow. It had moved there just in time. Catherine sat down heavily, overwhelmed. Kaitlyn crawled under from under the hand and flung herself into her mother's arms, while fixing a look at the hologram controlling the golem that had saved her. It was a mix between confusion, and something else that she just could not describe.
Ravendor could not fight off Jet's power any longer, having used the last of his conscious strength to move the golem's hand one more time. The body of his hologram was stained with patches of static, and he was clutching at his head as if he was experiencing excruciating pain. The green light that was the energy of Adam Kadmon had covered nearly one side of the golem's body, neutralizing the connection between Ravendor and the machine. The uplink had become too damaged, and bandit leader slowly disappeared in a stream of static.
Without anybody to command it, Diablo's hand went limp, and Jet weakly slid out of it's grasp, lading with a light 'thud' next to his machine gun. He had been pulverized, and his body was morbidly twisted, bruises already beginning to make an appearance. Virginia rushed to him and gently pulled the youth up into her lap, where she felt for herself how soft his body had gone after the pressure. His shirt was wet with blood, and his chest didn't feel right, some of his ribs had been snapped out of shape. He slowly opened his eyes. The drifter leader noticed how glazed over they looked. "Guess I…bought us… some time…eh?" He whispered, then coughed feebly. "Damn that… bastard to Hell…" He added as an afterthought, concentrating on breathing. Virginia hugged him, not saying a word, but the showing of emotion was enough to fill a hundred sentences. Jet's eyes focussed on her. "You worried? …Don't be… worried. I'll be… fine…"
Gallows crept up to them, though his neck was bent to stare at the ceiling. In regards to the foundation, it had more or less settled down, though the room they were in seemed ten times more vulnerable now. The Baskar could see the merit in Jet's previous remark over his idea. If they had called in a Guardian for assistance, then they probably would have been dead meat by now. There was no sense in endangering themselves any more than they had to. Kaitlyn crept up to Gallows and timidly took his hand, while Catherine had gone back to bring Clive's body over to the others. Visually speaking, it looked like they had incurred severe losses. It sobered them up a lot, that was the truth.
Catherine stretched Clive's body out on the ground carefully and checked him for his pulse. It was still there, and he was alive. She didn't know what had caused his blackout, and all she wanted was for him to come back. How were they going to beat Ravendor without him? Jet had done his fair share of work, but throughout all of their lives, Clive had been the only one who could talk Ravendor back to his senses. Besides the late Kaitlyn, he was the only one. And this made her think back to what had just happened, where the golem had shielded Kaitlyn's life. Had that been intentional? Was that Ravendor's doing? She just didn't know.
Jet pushed Gallows's hands away when the priest tried to heal him, looking towards the hulking shell of the golem. He coughed, coating his hand with a spattering of blood as he did so. "Look… he isn't dead… I just… knocked him out for a while… He'll be back… soon… So next time… we'd better mean business…"
Whether it was death, or just a mere slip into unconsciousness, Jet Enduro faded away.
xxx
Clive had fought in combat a thousand times in the past, but this time, there was a degree of exhilaration brought about by the use of the sword that was unlike anything he had ever felt before. The muscles in his arms groaning, he let out a roar and pushed Boomerang away, winning the weapon lock. The knight was forced a few steps back and leant to the left as Clive's sword whistled past his ear, knowing enough about himself to remember that he always attacked on the right hand side first. He swung left, then right again, the blade of his weapon forming a figure eight turned on it's side as he sliced. Clive didn't make a hit, but got used to the weight of the blade, feeling it lighten a little in his increased confidence. Letting go of his sword with one hand, he raised it and cast a cremate spell, smoke beginning to rise from Boomerang's armor before exploding into flickering flames.
Which died away in less than a second. Boomerang had less than a singular burn mark, and smiling, removed a small item from out of his inventory. A brittle stone tablet, engraved with precision. A fire rune. Clive berated himself severely for his lack of foresight. They were one and they same. Even if Boomerang had never borne such a defense before in his life, that didn't stop him from mimicking all of Clive's inventory and weaponry. This weird dream world made it all possible. Very well, He thought, So arcana will not work… I must resort to hand-to-hand combat, then…
Boomerang took his turn, and smashed the flat of his blade against one of Clive's upper arms, trying to disarm him without waste. The drifter grunted in pain but kept the appendage in usage, stepping away and yielding ground to his opponent. The knight thrust the end of the blade at Clive's face, but it had been calculated just in time and Clive leant sharply to one side, the edge scraping against his cheek. It didn't draw blood, but succeeded in leaving a think white line. The sword was powerful, but in the way it was designed, it wasn't too sharp. It was a smashing weapon, not a cutting weapon. Now, if only he could use that to his own advantage…
What? Perhaps I could bludgeon him to death? No, that would never work! Well, I have to do something! Clive ducked low, under Boomerang's blade that was still in mid-thrust, and rammed into the metal demon using a similar tactic he had devised when fighting the crab bubbler, trying to use his weight to knock Boomerang over. And if that didn't work, the sharp elbow to the stomach would have at least hurt him a little. Clive had to remind himself of what he was fighting, and that dirty tricks were permitted, and anything was by the book. Anything.
Anything… Just like this dream world! The drifter thought suddenly, barely avoiding being kneed in the stomach by his enemy. He had hit an idea, here. If this world was just composed of what his mind believed to be so, then if he changed what his mind believed, like when he altered the appearance of Ka Dingel, what would happen? Could it benefit him, in some way? Could it turn the tides of battle? It was time to find out!
"This is my dream!" Clive cried, stepping backwards a good few paces. "Therefore, I am it's master! Gravity now listens to me!" Upon hearing this, Boomerang's expression did not flicker one bit, though he was hunched over slightly from Clive's last attack. The drifter shouldered his sword with what seemed to be a lot of difficulty, given it's weight, and crouched down, focussing. If this didn't work, he was going to look like a really big idiot.
Clive broke into a run, held his sword as tightly as he could, and when he was only a foot away from making contact with his enemy, he leapt. Clive felt the dream world shift and lighten around his body, and then, there was nothing between him and the ground but air. It almost felt like he was flying. Ka Dingel was only at half it's height after the ancient explosion that had nearly destroyed it, and finding a ledge that was nearly at the top, but not quite, Clive shifted gravity again and fell onto the debris-ridden ridge, panting. That had taken a lot out of him.
He rolled over, onto his back, and looked up at the purplish-blue sky. He had fled. Was this cowardice? No, he had to think and prepare. He didn't even have a plan yet, and being the kind of person that he was, he really couldn't function well without a good plan of attack. It would take a little while for Boomerang to follow him up there, because when he stood up and looked down to the land around him, he found that he was very, very high up.
Protected for a few precious moments by his new barrier of defense, Clive fell to his knees and took some deep steadying breaths, tenderly rubbing his left should where a great ache was beginning to manifest from the handling of his weapon. He had a moderate amount of skills when it came to it's usage, but the blade itself was just too big, too cumbersome for him to wield any longer. It was killing him. He didn't have Boomerang's great strength or endurance anymore, although those qualities had been boosted considerably ever since his recession into a demon body. Even with this, he knew he was losing. Clive wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand and leaned against the Dark Guardian Blade as he had thrust it into the decrepit debris that made up the floor, using it as a crutch.
"What was all this learning and living for if I cannot even defeat my former self?" He wondered aloud through his heavy breathing, the cold of the sword permeating through the hilt and pommel, into his body. The sword was not suited for him, it was built for Boomerang, not Clive Winslett. "It's too heavy… the weight… the burden… the sin… I cannot carry it anymore. I need something lighter, I need another blade!" He breathed, slouching forward. The movement of his body made an object fall out of an inner pocket in his coat, landing on it's side and rolling a bit before it fall flat down in front of the demon, and the sword. Clive's gaze was drawn to it, for a bore a slight hazing glow, like a golden mist about it's golden surface. The Lust Jaw shone faintly, warmly, kindly.
Letting go of his sword, he picked up the medium like it was made of fragile glass, holding it between two palms and studying it's ancient insignia. A carved claw mark, Luceid's sigil, etched into the golden stone. Time seemed to slow around him, and he carefully pressed his fingers against each of the claw's digits, feeling the warmth flow up his arm and enter his body, warming his soul. A part of Luceid was inside this stone, inside the sword, inside himself, and he had carried it around him for such a very long time. It was all so interconnected, so close, that he could nearly feel her standing next to him… Watching over him…
With his left hand, he held the Lust Jaw, with his right hand, he gripped the handle of his blade. They were both instruments for the desire Guardian, filled with her blessing, her hope, and her love. They reacted with each other, and this time, it was Clive Winslett that was it's medium. Gravity lightened, and a golden glow filled the auras of the three mediums, calling power from the ether. …Luceid, help me… Clive prayed.
For the next few seconds, both his eyesight, and his memory failed him utterly. It grew so bright that he could barely see, and he nearly fainted from the immense rush of power, his mind blacking out entirely. When he came to, he felt weak and fell to his side, but his hands were clenched around the grip of a weapon, and neither the Lust Jaw, nor the Dark Guardian Blade was to be seen. Clive's throat went dry, and he was drained of all his power, as if it had been spent in the outburst of sudden energy. Taking a few seconds to stabilize his breathing, the metal demon climbed to his feet, heavily leaning on the thin blade of his weapon.
Thin blade? Clive pulled the sword out from the floor of stone and regarded the modified blade in the light, the jagged pommel was made out of the golden slate of the Lust Jaw, while the ice-blue blade was an alteration from the metal of the Dark Guardian Blade. The two objects had melded into one another, and joined as one. The result was an almost light-as-a-feather katana that fit snugly into Clive's waiting hand, becoming almost an extension of his right arm. It felt wonderful, just right. Clive smiled, he had seen the like of the weapon before, not too long ago, in his dreams. " Kuro… negai… ken…" The words were from another language, but fit together perfectly, as if they were fashioned only for this blade. "Kuronegaiken… That will be your name, from now on…"
Applause. Clive looked towards the source of the sound and spotted Boomerang not to far away, his dark hands clapping in a quiet display of approval. His larger and thicker sword was leaning against some rubble beside him, and his crimson red eyes looked quite amused. "Do you endeavor to make this more interesting for me, Clive? So be it. But remember that we don't have forever to fight this out, and every second that you spend here is a second wasted in the real world. Who knows? Your family might already be dea-"
The flash was an arc of blue light, focussed in a blur of movement. Boomerang sensed it, and even knew that it had fed of his own experiences, but could not, and did not have the reflexes needed to evade the blow. Clive was suddenly behind him, his speed augmented by his manipulation of his own dream world, and the frosty metal of his modified blade now bore a faint outline of stolen blood. Boomerang lightly touched his cheek, and delayed by a few seconds of uncertainty, blood began to flow from a shallow gash on his cheek. Clive straightened up. "I will not let them die." He said, refusing to turn around.
But Boomerang forced him to as the elder metal demon grabbed his waiting weapon all of a second and spun around, using the movement of his body to perform his own horizontal arc cut. Clive blocked it by grasping Kuronegaiken with both hands and forcing all the muscular power in his arms into the sword, fending off the attack. Though Kuronegaiken was thinner and smaller, it still bore the resilience of it's previous incarnation. Clive allowed the pressure of the weapons clash to force him backwards, and he took a step off solid ground, relying on the altered gravity and dimensions of the dream world to ease his fall.
Trusting in his decision, the fall felt short than what it really was, and he landed on a lower level of the broken Ka Dingel, upon a small jutting balcony that had been partially destroyed during the explosion. The impact was minimal and he immediately ducked behind a column of stone, awaiting Boomerang's arrival. With his back to the stone, Clive held his breath and straightened the sword out in front of him, turning the blade this way and that until he could get a reflection of the balcony embossed in the blue metal. It was too blurred for him to see things properly, but he easily detected Boomerang's movement as he followed Clive, alighting on the platform with the grace of a cat.
In a crouch, Boomerang's eyes flicked around the area, patiently unmoving until he could discern Clive's location. His hand gradually crept up to the small leather sheath he kept behind his left shoulder, and held it there, in wait. His tightened his hold on the Dark Guardian Blade with the other, and stood up tall, finally taking a step forward. Every motion was carefully calculated depending on the environment around him, and the Quarter Knight already knew precisely where Clive was, even before he chose to reveal it himself.
Clive stepped out and held his sword up in the defensive once more, while Boomerang's hand moved with incredible speed and hurled his deathly honed Saber Fang straight at the drifter. It whistled with murderous glee as it cut through the air, orihalcum blades singing in the promise of bloodshed. A thousand men had been felled by this simple, yet horrible weapon. The attack was called the Boomerang Dynamic, and it almost never missed. Contact was made, a spark-filled screeching grating of air, and then silence, followed by two metallic tinkling sounds.
Inside, he was a tumult of adrenaline, fear, and exhilaration. Outside, he was totally calm. It must have been some of Boomerang's personality rubbing off on him, but it looked like nothing was wrong. His body was moving on orders given by his mind, but nothing emotional of panicky filtered through. He was in perfect sync with himself, both body and mind. Yes, it must definitely be Boomerang who was making this possible, though he was his enemy. Clive lowered his sword, and the Saber Fang fell harmlessly to the ground in two separate halves, cut cleanly in two. It nearly bothered him, because it used to be his own weapon, but he pushed those old memories aside, looking at Boomerang levelly and smiling.
The younger demon switched to the offensive, taking a more advanced stance with his right arm held back so that his elbow was bent with himself turning ever so slightly to one side, while he gingerly touched his fingers to a spot near the end of the blade on the flat side, his muscles coiled like a spring, ready to attack. He charged and thrust forward, aiming at a weak spot in the older demon's armor and physiology, right below his chest-plate, and a little to the left. Without warning, Boomerang sidestepped Clive, released his sword, laced his fingers together and brought them down over the back of Clive's head in a powerful hammerblow. The drifter cried out and went down, prone only for a second, rolling over and slicing at the air above him. Blood flew, and one of Boomerang's arms went nearly dead, a vital tendon cleanly cut.
Clive drew himself up and felt the back of his head, rubbing his neck and bringing a smear of black blood across it and his hand. Boomerang really did hit hard. Clive was surprised that he hadn't actually been knocked out. Hearing a shred of fabric being torn, Clive remembered his defenses and turned around sharply, meeting the eyes of his skilled opponent. Boomerang's arm was hanging almost limply, while his fingers strove to maintain their hold on his sword. The knight had torn a long strip of white fabric off his ninja gi, and was now winding it swiftly around his hand, tying the sword there so he could continue to hold it. Clive heard him curse under his breath. "You know, you are one of the strongest demons I have ever fought, Boomerang." Clive admitted, while he waited for the other demon to finish his repair, keeping the honors of swordsmanship in play.
"You're not doing too bad yourself…" The knight replied, pulling the cloth tight across his injury and then raising his arm slightly to test it's effectiveness. "Of course, that's because you've had an exceptional education in warfare, wouldn't you say?" Clive just chuckled at this and nodded. Let Boomerang take credit if he wanted, especially if he did deserve it. When the older demon was finished, Clive held Kuronegaiken tighter and launched himself into the air, using his manipulation of the dream world to hold himself in place. The more he tried this, the easier it became. He hung there in space, floating.
Boomerang snorted at this showy display of power and jumped towards Clive while bringing his sword back like a baseball player getting ready to swing, ignoring the cries of pain being given by his injury and focussing his mind into one objective. Kill. Fun and games were over, and this was his only chance to leave this world and finally see Luceid again. If he lost, then his promise would remain broken forever. He knew he was not the kind of demon to break his promises! Clive would die, and then it could all finally be over! He just had to get back to her… It had been too long…
Clive was preparing a cheap shot. It was dirty, it was underhanded, but it had to be done. He couldn't afford to lose. Assuming the advanced battle stance once more, he switched hand and trusted his weaker arm with the weight of his blade, holding his right hand closed against the blade. If he did this too late and Boomerang got in the swing first, then it was all over. Clive closed his eyes and listened to the voice inside the sword, a silent whisper, or an echo of his intuition, telling him when to strike…
Strike…Now! For Luceid! His mind cried, and Boomerang swung, clenching his teeth. The thick sword nearly tore the air as it moved, and bore down upon Clive's shoulder, cutting a half-foot-long trench in the drifter's shoulder.
Strike…Now! For Catherine! From their connection, the command also echoed in Clive's mind, and he spaced the fingers on his right hand, activating his grappling iron. It snared Boomerang's armor, and pulled him forward, right onto the sharp point of his blade.
Below, on the warped cobblestones that made up the bridge of Ka Dingel, three black spots of blood pattered on the stone. There was a long wait, and the silence was everywhere, thicker that the dream-fabric of their world. Then, more blood began to fall like a torrent of black rain, in a small localized area underneath the two demons. They were both paralyzed with surprise, one impaled upon the long, sharp katana, the other with a mighty broadsword embedded in his shoulder. Their eyes were wide, and then, losing their ability to remain they, they fell slowly, headfirst, to the ground below.
Faintly, fuzzily, the soul that occupied both incarnations of itself realized where it was, and noted the warmth of the air, and the subsequent descent to the land underneath. It was almost, almost like their dream…
All over again.