As soon as Clive stepped through the threshold and back into the room, a sharp wind struck him in the face and caused his cheek to sting, blowing through his hair and carrying with it a malicious intent. It was cold, like an invisible razor blade. Catherine had to throw her hand up to her face to keep her eyes from watering, squinting her eyes shut, her light brown hair wildly thrown about by the wind. Clive's glasses protected him from the onslaught and he looked around the area, coming to the conclusion that this place was not the same room they had been in only minutes before.
They were outdoors in the middle of the night, a warped, deformed night where the dark sky was mixed with colours of black, deep purple and a rich shadowy blue, flecked with crimson red. The stars were merely twisted smears upon this overhead backdrop, flickering like they were trying to pierce through an evil fog that could not be seen. The land about them was in ruin, chunks of marble and granite that once made up a great edifice strewn all about them, resembling fragments of a destroyed church, stone cherubim cracked and left abandoned as vines tipped with lethal-looking spikes grasped them with a silent ferocity. The ground was damp, like it had just been raining, the indescribable scent of an incoming thunderstorm assaulting their senses. Clive recognised the place as a demented version of the deserted church outside Little Twister, of the night where Ravendor had attempted to throw himself away. He was trying to do so again, and like back then, Clive was determined to stop him.
Clive raised both his hands to cup around his mouth and called out the dark-haired man's name, his voice half-drowned out by the rushing wind. "Ravendor!" He cried, "Ravendor! Can you hear me?!" He stepped forward and discovered a startling fact. Gravity was different here, much heavier, and it took an intense amount of energy just to move his legs for that one tentative step. It was as if somebody had attached two half-ton shackles to both of his feet in a ploy to keep him where he was. Behind him, Catherine couldn't move at all and sunk to her knees, both her hands crossed in front of her face to protect her from the violent atmosphere. Clive let go of her hand and strained to take another step forward, grabbing a huge marble block nearby for support.
Step by step, grunting each time, Clive staggered forwards like he was immersed waist-deep in molasses, calling out the bandit leader's name. After what seemed like forever, he came to a kind of clearing bereft of masonry or a dirt-based ground, the floor the cobbled stones of what used to be the floor of the church. The metal demon looked up, brushing his hair out of his eyes to see what was directly in front of him, part of a scene that he would never forget, and had not forgotten for the past seventeen years. It made his throat go bone dry, and his heart thud painfully inside of his chest. It was going to happen all over again.
He was looking at the stone staircase that ended as a jutting edge of a cliff, one that was so high that the bottom could not be seen, even in the daytime. The shape of it was also warped and stuck out far more than it had in reality, but that was not what was causing fear to run rampant in Clive's soul, no, what was on the cliff scared him enough for that. The large glass tank that had been in Malik's laboratory was rooted firmly near the closest part of the cliff as it could, vines constricting it's base and holding it down firmly and safely, so it would not teeter off the edge. Some of the vines had crept along the glass that contained panakeia and supplement blood, giving the device a decidedly organic air to it. Ravendor was standing a few feet away from it, on the second last step of the staircase, with his head bowed as if he were in silent prayer. "Ravendor!" Clive yelled as he took another straining step forwards, "You do not have to do this! Stop it now!"
"…He can't hear you anymore, Daddy." Said Kaitlyn, suddenly appearing by his side and startling Clive just a little. "He will only hear you if he wants to hear you, and he doesn't want to hear anybody right now." Her words were serious and so unlike the girl that it agitated Clive to a small degree. The little girl was staring straight ahead like she was in a light trance, trapped in the same way that Clive appeared to be. However, she had not been standing there a few seconds ago, Clive was certain of that, or else he would have noticed. This kind of reality, the dream world, it was far too spontaneous for it to be trusted..
And yet for some reason, somehow, Ravendor heard Clive's words. Without looking back or looking up, the dark-haired man just shook his head weakly, his voice hardly audible, but still discernable to the others. It was like it was not affected by the rushing wind at all, unhindered and easily heard. "…I cannot stop it now." He whispered with a slight rasp in his tone. "…It is too late for that. The tank is empty." He sighed. "Look above you." Clive obeyed, looking deep into the depths of the glass container. It had not been broken by any external force, it was perfectly intact, yet the being that had previously existed there, Project Dark Angel, was missing. Ravendor was right. The tank was empty. A horrible sensation clawed it's way into Clive's mind, the one that was always felt when something planned had gone terribly wrong.
"…That is the problem with humans, you see. They cannot help but feel. It is so disgustingly pitiful and weak."
The voice Clive heard struck him like a sledgehammer upon his heart. Similarly, Ravendor flinched a little as he heard it. Looking up, at the top of the tank, Clive's mahogany eyes narrowed in anger and aggression. Sitting down on the sealed top of the tank, perched casually, Project Dark Angel watched them like a hawk observing his prey, smiling crookedly and smoking a crumpled old cigarette. The trail of smoke was not caught by the wind, for the small area around the glass tank was surprisingly serene and calm, like the eye of a storm. It was the other incarnation of the dark-haired man, the darker one, the demon created and extracted from Ravendor's broken psyche. Altered and given a physical form by the Prophets, it now held an awesome amount of power. Clive's mediums trembled in fear and cried out into his mind, terrified.
Project Dark Angel's eyes were the most disturbing things of all. They were totally blank, devoid of all inner emotion. It was as if there was nobody else inside, nothing controlling it except for orders given years and years ago. However, this construct held an immense amount of intelligence, which made it far too difficult for Clive to describe. "So you are the poison that the Prophets fed into his mind!" The swordsman exclaimed over the wind. "You are the being I need to eradicate, not him!" Kaitlyn whimpered and stepped behind her father, trying to block the scene out of her mind with the redness of Clive's bloodied coat.
The winged demon ignored Clive completely and jumped down from his tall glass perch, landing in front of the human variation of himself. Smiling demonically, he flicked his cigarette away into the wind and stretched, like one enjoying finally being tangible once more. Ravendor didn't move. He was staring at the space between his shoes and remained silent. His fingers were hooked around the tarnished chain of his cross, though, it was hanging limply and forsaken. Project Dark Angel smiled. "It has been too long since I was last awakened. Yet now, poor fool, you wish for me to never leave again?" He asked, his voice half real, half engraved into the ether, telepathic and violating the minds of everybody nearby with a resounding quality.
Ravendor nodded in a forced jerky movement, his eyes overshadowed by his fringe of dark hair. "Yes." He replied softly and hesitantly. "I do not want to be human anymore. I want you to take my soul, destroy it, and become me. Put me to sleep forever, Project Dark Angel. That is my wish." Accentuating his words, Ravendor looked up into the eyes of his other self, tortured green ones meeting blank indifferent ones. He was putting on the same withdrawn farce that he had used to protect himself with as a child, succumbing to a greater force. It was there that Clive finally understood how weak Ravendor was, how small, and how much he needed help and support.
Struggling, Clive stepped forward again, trying his best to keep on going. Amazingly, Kaitlyn managed to follow him, clinging to a fold of his coat. She was not as tied down as her father was, free from the weight of the building blocks of memory. However, something was beginning to annoy her in the deepest depths of her mind, something barely out of reach from her conscious recall. This, in turn, made her own motions tied down and heavy, but she still bore the courage to continue on. I remember… She thought, I remember, a long time ago, in a place that wasn't here… When I wasn't me. I was… somebody else…Kaitlyn closed her eyes and sniffled. I don't remember…
Raising his hand, Project Dark Angel took Ravendor's chin and forced the dark-haired man to look up more closely at him, his smile becoming sadistic. The winged demon was slightly taller, so Ravendor was almost lifted off his feet. "You cannot stand to be alone, can you?" He accused, "You have tried to find peace with anyone, anyone, as long as they would love you in return. Kaitlyn, then Catherine, Melody and even," At this point the demon chuckled a little, amused. "Even our Master Malik. But you do not like to hear about that, do you, human? Of course not. So, you grew tired of the world rejecting you, and you rejected the world instead. A wise move, one that allowed me to be born. For this gesture, Ravendor Begucci, I shall grant you your wish."
"No!" Clive cried as he ascended the very first step. "I will not let you do this again, Ravendor! I won't!" The shackles on his legs were fabrications created by the original Ravendor, and as long as they were there, the swordsman could not muster the strength needed to help him. However, Ravendor was the only person who could break them. Clive fought with the strength of ten men to climb up the next step, with Kaitlyn unable to continue and falling down at the base of the staircase. From there, all she could do was watch. "Ravendor! Just ask for my aid and I will help you! I swear! Just listen to me!" He was ignored.
The winged demon stepped back a little. With this motion, the glass tank disappeared from the dream world to allow him a little more space, stepping into it and just upon the edge of the cliff. Raising one hand in a ritual manner, Project Dark Angel extended the wing behind it, the feathers hardening back into their lethal state once more. Ravendor bowed his head again, tightening the hand that held the cross just a little bit. Clive fell forward, tripping under the weight of the shackles, unable to stand up anymore, absorbing the brunt of the impact with his hands. He was now within the eye of the storm, and out of the violent winds. He spoke quietly, almost pleadingly now. "There is another way, Ravendor. Do not do this. I am your brother. You are not alone."
He was bracing himself for the inevitable attack that would end the human part of his life for good, but then, just barely able to be seen in the darkness and the misery of the world, one ephemeral tear rolled down his cheek, shed with absolute silence.
"Clive…" Ravendor whispered. "Please help me."
Part of the dream world changed and Clive's legs were suddenly free, the invisible shackles disappearing into nothingness with a potent burst of power. Leaping to his feet and sprinting up the stairs, the swordsman regained motion the very second that Project Dark Angel attacked, the bladed wing coming down like a reaper's scythe. Ravendor didn't attempt to dodge or even defend himself as he was struck across the chest, the soft, yet terrible sound of metal slicing flesh reaching Clive's ears. The swordsman was only three-quarters up the staircase as Ravendor was thrown backwards by the blow, blood splashing up in a red arc as the wing was dislodged from the wound in a smooth motion. Clive watched in a kind of horrified slow-motion as Ravendor's body went past him and landed heavily at the bottom of the stairs, beside Kaitlyn. The huge wound in his front leaked red human blood into his immaculate clothing, and Kaitlyn screamed.
She was sobbing as she shook Ravendor's body in the hopes of waking him up, ignoring the puddle of red blood that was pooling around both of them. The wound across his front was definitely fatal, almost all of his internal organs had been ruptured in some way or another. He seemed to be in shock, a tragic kind of shock, he had honestly expected that Clive would try and save him. The human part of his mind was dying as the demon part assumed total control, a grey blight covered his body and he lost his physical form, fading away like a ghost. The only thing of him that remained was his silver cross, lying sadly by itself on the cobblestones. Her vision blurred by her tears, Kaitlyn just barely noticed the faint shine hidden behind the coating of rust and picked it up, grasping it between her hands and crying even more.
Clive's eyes were wide, he was trembling as he stood near the side of the staircase. He had failed. He had sworn that he would help him, and he had failed. He didn't have the time, there was just not enough time, but still, he had failed. Project Dark Angel flicked his bloodied wing slightly to get rid of the reddish ichor dripping from the metal quills, his dull eyes surveying all that was in front of him. Glancing down at the stunned metal demon, he smiled in satisfaction. "Ravendor dared to hope for salvation. Hope only leads to despair and death. He knew this, and yet, he trusted you." The winged demon started to laugh mirthfully, finding this truly amusing. "Now he will die and be lost in mindless sleep. Forever."
"No…" Clive said in refusal, shaking his head and speaking like he was only half-there. "He is not going to die…" He was clenching his free hand so tightly that his nails, slightly longer than they were supposed to be, were drawing blood and biting into his flesh. Furiously, he shot a poisonous glare at the other demon, his gaze like fire. "You are!" He roared. Snarling like some kind of wild animal, the swordsman pushed off his step and threw himself at the winged demon, his sword out and flashing in a radiant glory, brilliantly fuelled by the anger of it's master. Kuronegaiken smashed against the metal of his wings one more time, but this time the blade left a pure white afterimage of light energy on the target and it burnt into the armor like acid, degrading it's structure.
He hit the ground in front of the other demon and readied an eliminate scanner as quickly as possible, only needing a few seconds to prepare. Project Dark Angel absorbed the light energy with indifference and then stuck Clive in the chest with the flat part of his wing, forcing the swordsman off the staircase and making the eliminate scanner fizzle into nothing but a few small waves of pointless force. Clive groaned in pain and expected to hit the cobbled floor hard, but instead, he was smashed into a cold stone wall, making a slight indentation of himself in the natural foundation. Fragmented pieces of the underground ruin fell around him in small chunks from the impact, the dream world had broken down into the true reality now that the human part of Ravendor was dead. Now he was back in the real world, the world that he was used to existing in.
However, so was Project Dark Angel.
A being that had only been comprised of negative thoughts was standing in front of him, having stolen Ravendor's physical form for himself. He stretched a little, getting used to his new body outside of the dream world, and then looked around him. Kaitlyn and Catherine were nearby and within his sight, and also the broken golem Diablo continued to loom above them, a spark or two every so often flickering into existence and then fading again. The place was just as they had left it, a decrepit mausoleum. Feeling the muscles in his body ache from forcing them to function, Clive dislodged himself from the cracks in the wall and stood up again, panting a little. "…For the sake of all the Hell you have put my brother through," He announced steadily and doggedly, "I am going to destroy you, Project Dark Angel. I will not let you destroy the human race or anybody else."
"Hah, so you are going to destroy me?" Smirked the winged demon, flaring his wings and smiling in an infuriatingly smug manner. "Will that satisfy your pathetic little ego, to kill the only other one of your race that exists, Demon of Light? The humans deserve their fate. They have diseased this planet and will die in penance!" Slowly, he raised his hand once more and dark electricity crackled to life from within it, arching and leaping around like a mini storm. "I have no soul. I feel nothing. Join your brother in the midst of eternal despair!"
"…That's a lie and you know it."
Something buried deep inside Clive's body suddenly snapped under the pressure of the moment, forged from the accumulated memory of Boomerang, the raw primal anger of the lycanthrope, and the inner powers brought forth from the strain and pressure of a human soul. Power that was far beyond anything Clive could have ever described or dreamed of flooded through his system like water dousing a fire, the mediums he was equipped with crying out in the rush of energy and also contributing to it, forcing all of their powers into one. A pure white aura enveloped Clive's body and the swordsman screamed, he had reached his absolute limit. Kuronegaiken's cold blue blade burst into an intense warmth, the blade pulsing with accumulated power. No longer it's blue colour, it was as pure as the purest shade of white.
Gradually becoming accustomed to the crude power flowing through his veins, Clive's psyche attained just enough control to give him conscious command once more. He gritted his teeth. "We were both human once, and I know that that human part of us can never die. You are still in there, somewhere, Ravendor. I will not give you up for dead." Project Dark Angel shrugged, sighing a little in exasperation. His blank green eyes showed absolutely no change whatsoever.
Then, stepping forward, he attacked.
xxx
It was dark within it's broken shell, cold and lonesome, without any backup supply to give it energy. Diablo's vital signs were minimal but most definitely there, like a very, very faint heartbeat. It's consciousness was weak and frightened, existing on the very border of it's CPU and trembling, the AI unable to remember what had happened to it, or why it was in shocking, agonizing pain. Like a small child, it hid itself deeply in it's own mind, trying to find it's comfortable slumber amidst a haze of suffering. It failed, remaining alert and alive. Diablo twitched, sparks crackling as electricity was pumped through wires and cables that were already severed, bleeding it's source of power into the earth. Wondering why, over and over again, Diablo's AI accessed it's recent log flies for any commands given to it, eager for answers. Scanning them, the golem activated them on the vocal up-link that had miraculously not been damaged.
"Diablo… this is Ravendor, can you hear me?"
"Upgrade upcoming command to priority one. Execute on risk of all other priorities. Understand?"
It sounded like it's last master, it's most recent master. Diablo recognised the sound, but pried even further into it's memory banks, seeking the object of the command. It had a very basic curiosity built into it, so it parted more numerical records from others, translating the indecipherable binary into understandable english. It did not consciously remember any of this, but records never lied. The translation didn't come up so well this time, and some words were jumbled and a little difficult to make out. Diablo tried it's best anyway, the command coming up on one of the only screens left that were not cracked or broken.
"Eliminate target on sight! Allow reconfiguration of Human Law #01: 'Do not harm humans.' Override! Target…"
It was here that the message began to break up a little.
"Target In--vidua-: Cl--e Winslett! Lock-on to aura of target! Scan and remain locked on until the target is silent!"
Diablo went over this order several times in it's processing unit, degrading the structure of the component and making it difficult to discern the meaning of the command. The golem was just too broken to work properly anymore. But, it knew only one thing that it had to do. It was built to obey it's master's command. Though it's master was no longer there, it still had an order to carry out. Destroy Winslett.
Sending out invisible search waves which bounced off all the nooks and crannies in the ruin, like a sonar system, Diablo located two things that went underneath the heading of 'Winslett'. One was a male, of near middle age, while the other was a girl of a particularly young age. Running an aura scan on the male's spirit using the memory from it's master left imprinted in it's data banks, Diablo found an error in it's calculations. The aura it was sensing was different to the aura blueprint that it already had. It was far too powerful. Therefore, it's enemy was not the male target.
Scanning the secondary target, Diablo sensed a 58 match to the original target's DNA. That was good enough for the machine.
"Destroy." Groaned the giant using it's vocal synthesizers, "Destroy Kaitlyn Winslett."