Warning: I felt like getting really dark with this one, so it's going to be a way different theme from my normal comedic, happy adventure fics. You probably haven't seen something like this from me, so be warned! I'm making no guarantees here! This is dark, so stay far away if you don't like dark fics. This will be a short fic, only a few chapters. If you still want to, read on.
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The time: Six months after the rising of the Golden Sun.
The place: New Vale.
The situation: Critical.
What was it that they feared beyond all? That Conservato was so worried about, that he would eventually be right about?
The world can't handle Alchemy's release.
Did they save the world? Or did they condemn it? The streets of New Vale are a metaphor for the world of Weyard. It's new, just as the world itself is new, bathed and saved by the light of the Golden Sun, technically able to exist forever.
But it is crawling with thieves, bandits and murderers. With liars, cheats and con men. The streets of the reborn city are plagued with a disease.
The disease of greed, and unchecked lust.
They try to protect it, of course. The eight of them that saved the world, they try to protect everyone as best they can, but the Golden Sun rose with unexpected results. Being made of pure Alchemy, it absorbed all Psynergy in the land to sustain itself at its birth, and since then perpetually sustained itself, but the damage was done at its creation. For not only did it draw power from the beacons to exist, it drew all power from all Adepts worldwide, sapping their powers. All Adepts became normal people.
All except for eight.
The eight who had been present for at least two of the lighting of the beacons, and many of them, for all four. The eight, who, because of the Elemental Flares (that is, the term given to the event of the beacons being lit), had an excess of Psynergy in their bodies, and did not lose everything.
The only eight in the world, in all of Weyard, to still have Psynergetical power. The last gift of the blood of the ancient Adepts. They use it for justice now, to protect their friends, family, loved ones.
The situation still looks worse and worse with every passing day. No matter how strong they are, how fast they travel, how much they fight... they are being worn down. Then their city collapses, their home is destroyed.
That, being something they cannot lose.
"Behind you!" Garet cried, swinging in a wide arc after dodging a sword stab from a bandit. Luna shone from above, delivering sub-par light, but it was enough to see the enemy, the numerous bandits and thieves that were all too common at night in the streets of New Vale. At Garet's words, Isaac turned hard, jumping around and barely dodging a lateral slice that would have torn his head off his shoulders. He ducked low, and Mia took the opportunity to swing over his crouching body with her staff to deal a debilitating blow to the bandit's thin frame. He fell hard, and stumbled to his feel before Ivan arrived and pinched his neck, causing him to fall unconscious.
"This is getting really annoying," Jenna growled ominously, her staff at the ready, dodging and countering attacks coming at her from random directions, occasionally lighting the night sky with the fury of Mars Psynergy directed at some nuisance bandit. "Why can't they just stay dead?" Felix grimaced, while parrying skillfully.
"Probably because we aren't killing them," Felix said between breaths.
"Maybe we should..."
Sheba ducked under an incoming swipe and swung her staff. "Probably a bad time for a philosophical discussion," she grumbled. Jenna bit her lip, but didn't answer.
Picard cast a Diamond Dust to freeze some bandits into submission. They fell unconscious, and the other bandits who were remaining fled, scared for their lives, scared of the powers.
The Adepts congregated again, looking at their ragtag number. Jenna's eyes flittered over Isaac's arm, dripping red.
"You're cut," she noted.
"It's nothing," he replied, the golden glow of Venus flowing over his arm. When it remained, the only sign of anything wrong with his arm was the reddish tinge of his sleeve. Mia inspected his arm carefully, then stood back, satisfied with the amateur healing efforts.
"It's enough," Jenna complained. "Why are we still doing this?" Garet eyed her cautiously.
"Doing what?"
"Fighting the same battles over and over again," she sighed impatiently. "We do the same thing night in and night out. I'm tired of it."
"It's not... so bad," Picard said, trying to keep from being persuaded otherwise. Jenna stomped her foot and clenched her fists.
"It is so!" she burst. "And no amount of your saying it's okay, and that it's fine will change that, Picard! Every night, the same thing," she exclaimed, a tear welling up in her eye. She went on, hoping nobody could see it in the darkness. "Every night, bandits, thieves, murderers, they all show up! And every night we knock them out. Ivan and Sheba carry them out of the city with Wind Psynergy. They wake up, refreshed for the next night and come back." She bowed her head, overwhelmed by fatigue and the feeling of hopelessness. "It'll never change. And in the meanwhile, there are... there's more and more of them coming, because more people see it as all right to gain power and possession!" Felix shifted awkwardly, while Picard merely took his own head in his hands.
"Conservato was more right than he thought," he said softly. "It's not just the people trying to gain alchemy, people have gone insane for anything and everything."
"The world is dying," Mia said softly, teary-eyed. "And it's our fault." Ivan shook his head furiously.
"It is not!" he cried. "We saved the world, but people just don't see that yet!" Jenna snorted.
"Of course, it's not our fault, it's never our fault, we're perfect and sinless and completely hypocritical!" she shrieked. Garet moved over to her slowly and took her in a deep embrace. She sobbed into his shoulder, but didn't say anything else.
"We're falling apart," Sheba said softly. "It's too much to bear. It's just too much..." Isaac reached deep into his pocket, the pocket that could hold a nearly unlimited number of items, and withdrew, slowly, the Tomegathericon, the legendary Book of Summoning Arts.
"There is one way," he said slowly and softly. "We have this." Mia swayed slowly.
"So what can we do?" she said, on the verge of sobbing. "Summon our own monsters? Sends them out instead of us, so people just die instead of live?" She started shaking her head in disgust, her stomach twisting and healer's heart breaking at the thought. "We don't have that right..." Isaac moved to her and put a hand on her shoulder. She stopped shaking her head, and he moved his hand to her face, brushing the hair from her eyes so she could see him properly.
"Everything will be all right," he said soothingly. "I have one idea." Trusting him completely, be it from experience or naïvity, she nodded. Isaac opened the ancient tome and flipped through the pages slowly, in case they ripped and tore from age. Jenna slowly moved from Garet's shoulder, and by the time she made her way to him, he stopped on a page.
"What are you doing?"
"This," he replied, pointing. Picard leaned over and read off the page.
"Divinity, Archangel. Is that necessary?" he wondered. Isaac looked around the group.
Felix was calm and collected as always, but his eyes were dull and he was looking around anxiously, as though expecting the shadows themselves to attack him. Garet was trembling visibly, and Jenna was sobbing. Mia was shaking terribly, trying to believe in him against all the horror of their last few months. Picard looked tired, his eyes now reflecting his age, with dark lines appearing under them across his face. And Sheba and Ivan... they were working still, preparing wind to carry the bandits outside New Vale. Outside again, until tomorrow night.
"Yes. Yes, it is."
Isaac held the tome before him, and the two Jupiter Adepts meandered over, both looking frazzled. "Archangels are tricky summons," Ivan said, trying to keep his voice as level as possible, though his weariness showed though, anyway. "Let us help you." Isaac nodded, and soon the others moved toward him in a circle, all willing to help him, to help end the pain and torment of what their lives had become. All the Adepts stood around in a circle, hand in hand, focusing their Psynergy and readying it for whenever Isaac needed it. Isaac started chanting the words in the Tomegathericon, the language ancient and foreboding. The words sent chills down Mia's spine, but still she stood, ready. Finally, Isaac outstretched his hands, and the Adepts all focused on them, the four Psynergy elements combining to his hands. Then Isaac snapped his hands up to the sky and light shot from it, blasting straight up and then arcing back down as though on a narrow parabola. It landed in the middle of the circle, and took shape. It formed itself into an archangel, soft and beautiful to see, but her eyes were cold. When she finally spoke, her voice was silky and venomous.
"Divinity," Isaac said softly. She looked at him calmly.
"My name is Divinity. I am Justice."