Chapter 6: The Plot Thickens
Throughout the entire world, amongst the many, many different people and places, it is truly impossible to find anyone would who look EXACTLY like you. Oh, there might be a few similarities here and there, but, (identical twins aside) ultimately, each and every individual is unique. At least, that's what Chan has believed for most of his life.
Now, facing down himself in a half-ruined train, Chan is in for a nasty shock.
************
"Say again?"
"I said, I'm YOU."
Both Chans faced each other down, guns aimed and ready. Eyes fixed upon the face, searching for the miniscule tightening that signified intent to fire.
Neither one dared to move. There was no way anyone could miss at this range.
A standoff, then.
Lying on the ground, Ryan twitched weakly, and tried to sit up. His wounds weren't deep, but they certainly hurt like hell. He wouldn't be joining this battle anytime soon.
The real Chan tightened his grip on the Mage Cannon, sweaty palms slipping slightly on the smooth handle.
"You have a serious identity crisis, then. Nice plastic surgery, though. You actually look like me. Too bad I'm gonna ruin it."
He adjusted his aim, shifting the barrel of the gun to his opponent's head. For some reason, the other man showed an incredible amount of courage, not flinching in the slightest.
"What's your name, imposter? So I'll know who you were."
"They call me…Burnout."
Silence.
Chan's face began to purple with rage, as he realized what had just happened. Not only did NESTS have the gall to send another assassin after him…They had just stolen his cool schtick!
"You…STUPID…bastard…You STOLE my nickname! NO ONE DOES THAT AND LIVES, DAMNIT!"
It was a mistake, right up to the very moment he pulled the trigger. The Mage Cannon bucked in Chan's hands, blasting forth a massive sphere of flames. It impacted with all the force of an avalanche, sending his clothes whipping in the sudden breeze.
When it cleared, Burnout (Yep, he had the gall to use that name) stood in the centre of a perfectly cleared circle, not a single hair out of place. He grinned, favoring Chan with a wintry smile.
"My, my. Fling-flang-floom, and I'm still here. Maybe you're not as good as I thought, Chan. Wanna try again?"
Chan stared at his Mage Cannon, as if he could find the answer there.
"Hey! What gives?"
He was beginning to realize the amount of shit he was in. But hey… There were only a few other things Chan could do.
Like…
"REQUIEM…PUNCH!!!"
Nothing.
Even as Burnout's retaliatory gunfire ripped through the seating, Chan silently cursed Requiem's name as he dove for cover. One-handedly, he tossed a ravening bolt of force right down the aisle, kicking up yet another shower of debris.
"Thought you killed me? THIS is how you throw force bolts! "
TWO bolts of power blasted back his way, twice as large as Chan's own. Just barely, he deflected them, blowing out the little left of the glass.
This was going to be a long day.
**********
Somewhere else in Tokyo, at a certain hotel…
SHINK-KLAAAAAAAAAAANG
Jiazheng fell back, numb hands clasped round his ringing scabbard. He desperately tried to make sense of the insane and rapidly evolving situation unfolding around him.
The second Andro hadn't even bothered to speak. He charged the original, the two strange blades on his arm whirring at the speed of a blender. Stick-thin and clad in shiny black leather, the man's constant grin was a perpetual consequence of the way the colorless skin of his face was pinned back around his skull.
Andro had seemed totally and utterly enraged by the mockery of his form. He met his clone's attack face on, not even bothering to dodge. Even now, they fought on, the sound of blade-on-blade merging into a single whirring tone.
Twice, Jiazheng had tried to intervene. Twice, he had to throw himself away, trying to dodge the vicious spinning blades. He was so out of his level it wasn't even funny.
The real Andro rolled back from a particularly nasty swipe, palming a knife from the air like a juggler. He snatched and flung again and again, pumping out a seemingly endless stream of sharp metal.
His foe performed a blurred backdash, shifting right out of the way. Trailing shadows followed his wake, vanishing in the blink of an eye. Jiazheng sliced at him, flinging blast after blast of emerald destruction. Somehow, the man evaded, his physical speed unbelievable.
Jiazheng swung again, placing two perfect kill strokes that somehow missed altogether. The not-Andro sent him lurching away in a spray of his own blood….Right before the original's foot intersected with his spine, with a nasty popping noise.
Twisting like a cat, the duplicate somehow managed to land on his feet, shoved away from the bleeding swordsman. He hissed once, and ran straight back in to attack. Andro was only too happy to oblige.
It was a shame that there wasn't anyone watching, because the next seven minutes were an unparalleled display of swordfighting. Steel rang on steel several times in one second, hissing through the air fast enough to cleave atoms, and Andro brought all his skill, and his duplicate all his speed to bear on the fight. Each drew blood several times, but their adrenalin and will blotted out all but the most fleeting sense of pain. Finally, both men paused for a moment, and the light from the street below almost seemed to dim. Andro attacked first, as both arms blurred into black and silver flashes, like his usual attacks seen through a rain-streaked window. At the same time, the other man took one step back, and held his weapons low, just before it began to spin around between both hands.
"FINAL SHOWDOWN!"
"RAZOR ASSAULT!"
Blade after blade tore past Andro, neatly deflected by the impenetrable wall steel right in front of him. He tore straight into the clone at top speed, hacking and slashing in a blur of motion. Coldly and methodically, he proceeded to break or hyperextend every major joint in his body with his knives, ending with a final spinning double-slash, right through that pathetic copy of his own face.
Even with a slash running right through his face, the duplicate continued to move, like some grim colossus of destruction, intent on taking his foe down with him. Wearing the terrible wounds that Andro had inflicted like medals, he continued to advance.
With a sound like snapping twigs, the broken neck made a sound like snapping twigs, as he-No, it- slowly turned its lolling head to glare at Andro.
"Nice…try…" the slack head gurgled.
The black leather coat was gone, sliced to pieces by Andro's blades. The wiry, perfectly proportioned frame was strung with chains, padlocks and bindings, giving the thing the horrible impression of being stitched together.
"Your strikes…hurt…But are…no stronger than the weapons…you should learn to…Make your weapons sounder…Next time…"
"…Not that there will be a next time…" it added.
Andro smiled, a thin, feral grin that never reached his eyes.
"There won't. ARMY OF ONE!!!"
The result was a severe beating in the best Custom Combo tradition. Andro got lost in the charging horde somewhere along the way, allowing the occasional duplicate to get in a slash or stab instead.
By itself, the Final Showdown is an awesome move, one of Andro's signature favorites. This devastating maneuver is often used as his finisher, for good reason.
Compared to what followed, it was a lovetap.
The clone was bounced off the hard floor after being released, and was returned to the air by an Aerial Slicer. He was then cleanly volleyed by running and then stationary Dragon Punch-ripoffs, before being spiked back to earth by a hail of Shadow Edges from above.
The thing knew it was through, when the force of a triple Blitz Kick pushed him into the wall, and the shower of razor-sharp knives pinned him there like a butterfly. He actually believed/hoped it was over when the multitude of Wu Shu kicks started landing on every point of his battered frame in alphabetical order, but was still barely conscious, though severely stunned, for the final "Ha-TA!"
Exhausted, the real Andro sank to his knees in the suddenly-deserted room. The only other occupant was the unconscious Jiazheng, and a dripping, bleeding mass that would barely be classified as human.
Very slowly, wincing at the crippling fatigue that threatened to overwhelm him, he staggered to his feet, and began to walk, step by painful step, towards the gory remains. This time, Andro wasn't going to take any chances.
***********
This... was the life of Ryan Lim. You stay smart enough to look out for yourself, and just in case you aren't good enough, you get someone else to help with that job. But hey, Ryan was the one with the powers that were like... actually weren't freaking invincible with mad ub3r powerz...
So why da HELL...
When someone who's Stand has NO WEAKNESSES...
Has to fight alone for just TEN GOD DAMN MINUTES...
…And during that time, CAN'T EVEN KEEP HIMSELF FROM GETTING A BIG NASTY BULLET THROUGH HIS GOD DAMN SKULL!?
Barely conscious, Ryan had been twitching weakly on the floor, trying his utmost best to avoid bleeding to death. Bullets, fireballs and assorted ki projectiles winged by overhead, causing the odd explosion and eliciting the odd curse, as several came way too close for comfort.
A HUGE distortion of space tore right past towards Chan, right before he retaliated with a machine-gun volley of warpfire pulses. The entire train shuddered crazily at that, and several lights went out.
The crowd had dispersed completely. They were clustered at opposite ends of the train, intent on escaping from these two psychopaths who were busy hurling fire and death back and forth.
Evidently, Chan and his clone had taken the hint, for that had been the last big exchange of energy. They switched right to conventional firearms, filling the place with the rattling blast of autogun fire, punctuated by the heavier thunder of the Mage Cannon.
Then, there had been a gurgle, and a muffle thud as something heavy hit the ground. So yeah, Chan was probably dead.
But Ryan wasn't hanging around to see what happened next. Slowly, taking special pains not to be seen, he began to crawl in the direction of the nearest exit.
***********
Chan crouched down behind the last fragment of the shattered seats, trying to stay as quiet as possible. Desperately, he dug into his pockets, attempting to find more ammunition for his weapon.
He came up with one more clip of quartz rounds, and three scattered metal bullets he'd shoved in there the day before.
Not good.
In the first few frenzied minutes of the gun battle, Chan had expended an odd half-dozen clips, at least a quarter of the supply readily accessible to him. Much like a Physics course, he wasn't really going anywhere.
Footsteps resounded, as his duplicate began to close in, striding fearlessly forward for the kill. The bastard wasn't afraid. Why would he be? Every single Mage Cannon round aimed at him had simply bounced off, deflected away by an invisible…Hell, make that invincible shield of force.
Chan could hear him coming closer, and the steady drip-drip-drip of blood on the train floor, caused by the flying shrapnel from a set of wrecked steel frames…
Wait a minute.
All Mage Cannon rounds had bounced off…Those aimed directly at Burnout, at least. But the random spray of glass, metal fragments and wood chips HAD cut into flesh.
Maybe the shield wasn't invulnerable, after all.
Taking a deep breath, Chan chambered one of his precious metal rounds, murmuring a fervent prayer to any deity who might be listening. He could quite possibly be DEAD wrong.
*************
Burnout hummed a merry tune, casually striding down the aisle. Very soon, he would finish off the original, and his job would be complete. Ignis had promised a nice big bonus for the completion of this unpleasant business-
-Then Chan stood up. Once-fine clothes ripped to shreds, he aimed the Mage Cannon, finger tightening on the trigger. With a sigh, Burnout slowly raised his heavy autopistol, taking as much time as he needed. There was no way that stupid cannon could hurt-
***BLAM***
The heavy metal round thudded in Burnout's chest with a sickening sound, like a hammer smashing a melon. Suddenly, all of Burnout's strength left him. Gasping for air, his knees suddenly decided to buckle.
Swaying like a tree in a storm, the man tried to raise his gun, intent on pulling his foe down into death with him…
Chan fired again, a kill shot.
Burnout's face came apart, sending spattering streamers of crimson pulp and bone flying everywhere. The bullet punched through his head with so much force, that it continued on, burrowing into the last of the wall.
Slowly, the headless corpse toppled, the gun slipping from suddenly nerveless fingers.
Shaking, Chan tried to holster the Mage Cannon. He missed twice, finally shoving it into his pocket. Reaching down, with a calmness that told of slow-rising panic, he carefully scooped the matte-black autogun up, ignoring the clammy coldness of the rapidly-stiffening corpse.
Unlike Andro, Chan wasn't a killer. Sure, he'd shot people once or twice…But so far, no one had actually died. Not in this way at least.
Adrenaline drained away, leaving only numb exhaustion in its wake.
Involuntarily, Chan's eyes ran over the neat line of holes punched in the seating, just above head-height.
An inch higher and…
Stop. He wasn't going to think about that,
Deliberately, intent on keeping his mind focused on the situation at hand, Chan looked around for Ryan. The moment the train stopped, they were OUT of here.
And then…A shower. Or fifty or so. For some reason, Chan knew he would never feel clean again.
*************
Andro sat in front of the door, gazing moodily out of the window. He fiddled with the odd blade-device his foe had been wearing, his mind not really on his work. The weapon was masterfully crafted, with cruel, serrated edges and a gauntlet to wear the entire contraption.
Normally, like a child with a new toy, Andro would've been utterly absorbed in his work, attempting to find out what made it tick.
But today…Today, Andro's heart wasn't really on it,
Jiazheng had returned to consciousness a while ago. He'd been oddly withdrawn, not seeming to pay much attention to anything. The swordsman had simply got up, winced a little at his wounds, and went straight to sleep.
Andro was contemplating his next course of action. As far as he knew, that mockery had been sent to kill him. It had failed…But only after the combined efforts of both him and Jiazheng.
This was only the first, Andro knew. When NESTS could send one, they would soon send more.
Not for the first time, Andro seriously considered running for it. With his funds, and the contacts available to him, he could out of the country in a day. And then…What, exactly? The life of a fugitive didn't suit Andro very well. If he did that, he'd forever be looking over his shoulder, wondering if pursuit was finally catching up with him.
No. Andro intended to meet his foes head-on. They would pay for their victory in blood and pain. Gallons of it, in fact. NESTS would regret the day it decided to…
***BANG***
The door was flung open, as Chan and Ryan burst in, dirty and bleeding.
"ANDRO! On the train…There was…There was…"
Gracefully, Andro rose from his seat, thoughts crystallizing into determination once more. The moment of weakness was gone, leaving him as mentally prepared as he would ever be.
"Come in. We have much to discuss, and little time to do so."
*************
"…And that's what happened. When I checked, he was carrying this."
Andro tossed the blade-device onto the table, a grim edge in his voice. Very carefully, Ryan reached forward, running a finger over the razor-sharp edges. The young man shook his head, letting off a low whistle.
"That's not a knife, Andro. That's a miniature chainsaw."
"I know. I used it to dismember and hide the body."
An awkward silence.
Chan let out an uncomfortable cough, drawing the heavy autogun from his pockets. He set it down on the table, absently wiping his hands as he did.
"My clone was carrying this fancy weapon. Seems like an SMG with a case of mumps. Carries fifty rounds, with a built-in gas vent to compensate for recoil."
He shook the thing for emphasis, before he continued.
"The question isn't who sent them. There's only one group we know who hates us enough to send these guys. The question is how. How did they get this stuff? Hell, how'd they even manage to get copies of us?"
Ryan shrugged, tilting his chair all the way back. His usually cheerful face contorted into a frown, as he tried to think of a reason for the insane situation he was now in.
"Don't ask me, Chan. I'll say really good plastic surgery…Maybe even cloning. But that stuff is way, way ahead of our time, alright?"
"It's possible. Remember last year, guys? At the Zero Cannon?"
Ryan suddenly sat back up.
"Yeah…Blood, skin samples, flesh…Everything was there. All they needed to do was to take what they wanted…"
He was suddenly drenched in a cold sweat, as his mind followed that unpleasant train of thought to the conclusion.
"SHIT! THEY'VE OGION'S BODY!!!"
"What?"
"You're kidding."
"No, I'm not. Just think. If they could make decent copies of us with just some remains…We left Ogion there to face Zero alone, guys. They might have taken his body. I'm not saying they did."
Andro thrummed his fingers on the table. Something was wrong with that, but he couldn't really place it…
"Chan, you said that the Mage Cannon had no effect whatsoever on this 'Burnout', right?"
"Yeah. I hit him five times dead on, and he shrugged it off. Only a metal round actually punched right through the shield."
"But he didn't use a Stand, right?"
"Uh…As far as I can tell, no."
"Then Ryan's wrong. Those people didn't copy us. They were made to counter us."
"So what now?"
"We'll have to find some way to strike back. We can't let them chip away at us like this forever."
"But now? We've a fight in two days!"
"***Sigh*** Okay, right after that fight. Then, we'll find some way to retaliate."
Chan lifted his autogun, hefting its unfamiliar weight in his hands.
"Well, we better learn to use these things. Ryan, you're the genius here. Help Andro with that chainsaw of his. I'm gonna learn how to fire this without blowing my wrist off. Two days, people. Better make the most of it."
"How about Jiazheng?"
"He wants the truth, Andro can tell him the truth."
Chan got up and walked off, dispersing the impromptu meeting.
"But remember this. Ignorance is bliss…"
So quietly that almost no one heard him, Andro completed the proverb.
"…And reality is harsh."
(Whew. The longest chapter yet. Any suggestions for the next fight is welcome, as always. Sorry for the long wait, but I had a hell lot of tests in these two weeks. I'll update faster next time, okay? Till then, bye!)