Chapter 17:
A/N: Interregnum over! Onward no, still don't own 'em. Rated "M" for graphic violence, suicide (to all intents and purposes – and not recommended by any means!) and Yuri's usual foul mouth. Muchas gracias to all who read and reviewed. You inspire me, you truly do! Some confusion will no doubt occur in this chapter with multiple Yuri's and fusions, so sorry, but time travel is the pits. And remember, we're trying for a happy ending here, so keep those fingers crossed.
Shanghai was burning; the city was a wall of flames and the dead and dying lay like ash on the ground. The tallest building in the city rose like a beacon above the flames, its roof shattered and broken, the lintels cracked and torn; on the roof, once marked in symbols most arcane, a creature of unimaginable power stood, feet almost but not quite touching the profane material. Head held high, crimson wings spread wide, the God of the Earth that, until this day, had been protector and nurturer, was now the destroyer; summoned to this plane by greedy men, selfish men, men upon whom the Lord of Demons would now wreck vengeance. Clawed fingers flicked energy waves, suddenly raging across the expanse of human habitation, and flames burst forth like crimson blossoms, flowers laid on the altar of worship for this, their destroyer. A sense of joy filled the Manifested God, and crimson wings raised high, lifting the Deity above all the death and destruction, into the cold night air. A flick of a feathered head and the ground faded away, falling beneath Her like a dream, like a minor annoyance; like the small voice crying in His mind. What was that now? Ah yes, the human child... Godly attention turned inward, the Eye of Awareness to the Inner Depths plumbing the dark recesses where the child waited, screaming. God reached out and touched the child, tapping it ever so gently, flinging it across the expanse of the darkness and watched, waiting for the child to awaken, to become aware once more. The child looked up with amber eyes, sad eyes, looked upon the face of God, and screamed. And God smiled.
Time was non-existent; the passing of seasons did not matter, time and distance were things of the past. There was only here, now; and the devil in the dark, the God that was his torture, his fusion, and his failure. He tried; oh, how he tried. But he didn't have the strength, the will, the power to hold onto the strands of this God's mind. Like sand spinning away through his fingers, the awareness of the God slipped past him and when it looked at him, became aware of him, engulfed him in its mind... Yuri felt his world spinning away, plummeting down, down, down into the depths of despair. He had lost; he had failed. He would become a monster and his screams of pain and terror echoed in his mind until he reached the end of his plummet and splattered himself on the bottom of his despair.
Darkness was his ally, his friend. Here, there was darkness, there was nothingness. Here he could lie in dejection, in failure and moan the unfairness to the universe. Here he could die.
But death did not come - no, not right away. Darkness caressed him, despair leeched out of him like sweat, and laughter; dark, sardonic laughter that clenched his guts and twisted his soul. The laugh he knew - knew it from those dark days after his mother's death when he wandered China in a haze of pain and fear and fever. The laughter of his father, his voice twisting and gouging until the pain he felt was wrenched away, torn from him like a severed limb. And he looked up to see himself, standing in the shadows beneath that great oak tree on the hill behind their house and he felt bereft, as if in losing a limb, he'd lost a brother. But then the darkness overwhelmed him again, the bright eye of the God above him, pushing him down, and down once more. His last thought before being finally engulfed, was how much he hated himself, and how much his father must hate him for his failure.
"Deeper, dig deeper, idiot. You could not match your father... didn't protect your mother... You're responsible for everyone's misery!"
Fear and self-loathing.
Fox Face... lying shit.
"I've always been here, you just never noticed. If you can catch hold of this soul, you will gain ultimate power. Power to make gods throughout the universe tremble. Believe in yourself."
Love and purpose.
Dad.
"I did my best, dad. I did my best after you and mom... I have friends, and a woman who loves me... I tried really hard!"
Acceptance.
That's me.
"Yuri is not weak! He's a fighter!"
Redemption.
Wh-who's that?
Awareness flooded Yuri's mind, awareness and a dim sense of having been through this once before. Didn't Seraphic turn his mind to mush already? Didn't he lose to that God in Shanghai? Didn't he have to face his own worst nightmares? Alone, devoid of friends, family, and help - alone, he faced the God of Shanghai as it washed over him like water, filling him. No dark corner left un-illuminated by the radiance of the Mind of God, and no secrets, no fears left unrevealed. Yuri stood in awe of this creature he had tried to tame as it looked down at him, and then swallowed him whole.
The floor of the monastery was cold and dusty and Yuri sneezed. His head ached with a pounding he would have traded in for just about anything, including a broken leg. He sat up and sneezed again, spreading the dust with the breeze. He looked around and found he was behind some crates in the monastery attic, and a glimmer of hope began to warm his heart. Maybe this time...
A sound came from across the room, and Yuri climbed to his feet to peer past the boxes. The attic looked much as it had when he arrived the first time: stacks of crates and barrels placed haphazardly along the wall, dust, dirt, and moldy straw lying on the floor. And across the room, lying against the only exit door was a young man, blood running down his side and pooling at his hip. Yuri blinked and then caught sight of movement in the far shadows; the monster that he'd fought before, the werewolf. That meant that he would soon be here.
A quick assessment was all he could afford – a wounded man with a gun was not somebody he wanted at his back, but he had to take on that damned monster before it could attack Plunkett again. Grinding his teeth, Yuri reached into the pouch on his belt and pulled out the dagger. Then, with a feral grin, he leapt over the crates and landed with a puff of dust a few feet away. The monster, sidling closer to the injured Plunkett, spun around, growling at Yuri's sudden appearance, its sharp teeth and fangs glistening with furious spittle. Yuri's grin blossomed into a laugh, and in the next instant, he leapt to the attack. A quick jump brought him within arm's reach of the werewolf and a downward slash with the dagger. Switching hands, he flipped the dagger to his left hand and brought his right elbow up to slam into the monster's head, and followed that with a left knee to the gut. The creature started to move back and Yuri surprised it yet again, leaping up and spinning to slam his booted heel into the monster's side and pushing him back.
Behind him, Yuri could hear Plunkett's yells and realized he was trying to get Yuri's attention.
"You'll need bullets; the damned thing is hard to kill," Plunkett called. "Use my gun."
Yuri ignored him for a moment, finishing his spin with another turn and plunging the dagger into the monster's chest. The blade struck the breastbone and the handle shattered, jarring the fighter a little before he slid back toward Plunkett. The injured man had raised the gun, pointing unsteadily at the werewolf, but Yuri skidded to his knees at the younger man's side and plucked the gun from his hands.
"Let me; I'm a lousy shot, but I'm probably better than you right now," he said and, taking the gun and the proffered bullets, he climbed back to his feet and ran forward. He paused a few feet in front of Edward, gun raised with both hands and aiming at the monster who was inexorably approaching, the dagger blade still stuck in his chest and blood dripping from the wound and from his claws; Yuri squeezed home the trigger once, twice and on the third bullet the monster began to shiver, its limbs quaking with reaction. Yuri kept firing, emptying the revolver into the werewolf before tossing the gun away as he run forward once again. A handful of feet away he went into a slide, scissoring his legs and catching the creature's limbs, tripping it. The werewolf crashed to the floor, an explosion of dust and straw filling the air at his impact and Yuri followed through by rolling on top of the monster, grabbing it by the neck and twisting. The monster struggled, but Yuri was stronger than he had been just a year ago and his grip was like iron; in only a few seconds there was a dull snap as the neck broke and Yuri let the werewolf fall to the floor, a small puddle of blood oozing out from underneath.
"Damn, you're good," Edward said from his place on the floor and Yuri turned to look at the man he knew was Halley's father. That very thought had his guts suddenly twisting and he crossed the dirty floor to kneel at Plunkett's side.
"You all right? You gonna live?" he asked.
"Yeah, I guess," the younger blond replied, his face ashen but his eyes bright.
"Good. So, Plunkett, I'm sorry for this," Yuri cocked his right fist back and landed a hard punch to Edward's neck, cutting off air and blood. The adventurer sagged against the wooden door, unconscious and Yuri waited, his ears pricked at the sounds on the roof. Yes, he's coming. And so was Koudelka. She'd be here any minute now.
Above he heard the scrambling of boots on the roof tiles and a bang as one of the roof spikes broke, falling away to the ground below. A shout also echoed in the attic and he knew Koudelka was all right, if frightened by her near fall. And in that instant he felt his presence. Looking up, he saw a shadow in the rafters, and the movement of a coat. In the next instant Yuri Hyuga leapt from the rafters and landed on the attic floor, raising more dust and straw with his arrival.
"Who are you?" he asked, staring at the messy man rising from the floor. He was obviously a ruffian and had hurt the other man; Yuri had seen the blow that knocked the blond unconscious. Whoever this guy was…
"Holy shit! You look like me!" he exclaimed and then backpedaled as the other man jumped at him, one bloody hand pulled back to strike. In the next second the two Yuri Hyugas were grappling in the straw. One Yuri tried to punch the older man but the harmonixer blocked with his forearm and then sent a canvas clad knee pounding in below the belt. More pissed than hurt, the younger man swung a leg around trying to force Yuri back, but then they ended up against the nearby crates. A second later, there was a loud crack and Yuri rose to his knees before bringing his fist down hard on the head beneath him. Then he looked around for a weapon and spotted the knife blade sticking out of the monster's chest. Smirking, he climbed to his feet and wrenched the blade from the monster's chest and, returning to the unconscious man, used the dagger to slice his throat, pulling back on the head until the neck was severed. Then he tossed the bloody head into shadows in the corner of the room.
Rising again, he looked down at the dead harmonixer and sighed.
"Well, no sense letting this stuff go to waste," he muttered and quickly stripped off the trench coat. He was thinking about the leather trousers when a sound on the roof reminded him that Koudelka was on her way. With a huff, he sprinted for his hiding place behind the other crates and slid into the shadows just as Koudelka kicked in the upper window. Dust fluttered to the floor and a second later, the young gypsy woman landed in the straw by the dead body. She looked around spotting both the corpse, the slain monster and the unconscious blond slumped against the door.
"What happened here?" she asked softly then cautiously approached the door, one hand removing a dagger from her fanny pack. She paused, looking at the roughly dressed man, his clothing serviceable but dirty; a black leather vest over a once white shirt, and a backpack. He had short dirty blond hair and, when he stirred, opening eyes to look up at her, they were revealed as incredibly blue.
"A-angel?" the young man said his voice cracking.
"Not hardly. What happened?"
The man looked around, suddenly alert. "There was a monster, and another man was here – oh," he said as he spotted the beheaded corpse lying a few feet away. "Man that sucks," he muttered. "That guy saved my life."
Koudelka looked back briefly at the corpse. "Looks like the monster got him just as he killed it. Who was he? For that matter, who are you?"
"Plunkett. Edward J. Plunkett; pleased to meet you," the young man said and tried to rise, only to groan and remain seated. "Damn, that hurts." A dark stain was spreading across his lower shirt and Koudelka could see he was hurt. "Looks like he wasn't in time to be much help; pity. Look, I won't ask you to take me to heaven or anything, but will you pray for me at least?" Plunkett asked his eyes half-lidded.
Koudelka stepped back, a look of disgust on her face. "Are you out of your mind? There's no bloody way I'm going to pray for you..." Koudelka took a step closer and knelt down beside Plunkett. "I guess I can be merciful just this once," she said to herself and raised her hands in front of her eyes before lowering them toward the man's wounded belly. After a moment, a green light encircled her fingers and cascaded down onto the injured man and he moaned, thrashing beneath her. "Shut up! Keep it down."
Plunkett groaned and then suddenly gasped, eyes flying open to look at the women kneeling above him. He sat up as Koudelka slid back onto her heels, fatigue in her posture.
"It-it doesn't hurt anymore. I'm cured," Plunkett exclaimed. Koudelka ignored him and rose to her feet, shaking her head and flicking her hands to loosen them.
"Okay, let's go," she said and waited for him to climb to his feet.
Plunkett didn't seem to hear her, his amazement at being suddenly cured occupying his thoughts as he patted his chest and examined himself.
Koudelka tapped his boot with her foot impatiently. "Stand up or I'll leave you here."
"What happened? It doesn't hurt anymore."
"Yeah? And? So I cured you, so what?" Koudelka replied and her voice was taking on a tone of impatience.
"You cured me?" Edward exclaimed, looking up at her before climbing quickly to his feet. "But, I was badly hurt; almost dead. So, you really are an angel?"
Koudelka snorted. "Don't be foolish. Do you really think that there are angels on earth? I'm no angel. I'm just a medium with a little curing power."
"Well, you're my angel then," Plunkett said. "Look, I know I look pretty shady, but you don't look too wholesome yourself. I-"
"No," Koudelka interrupted. "I am not like you, and this is no place for people like you." She indicated the corpse lying in the straw, blood surrounding the body in a sticky pool. "Why did you come here?"
"I heard a rumor while I was in London, that the son of some rich family had bought an old monastery and spent a ton of money to convert it to a house. I hear he brought a lot of harlots here; seems like he was having a great time," Plunkett said and ran a hand through his dirty hair, looking around the attic room.
"So, where is this monastery?" Koudelka asked.
"That's what I'd like to know. I came all this way to put a poor man's fear of God into this rich bastard. So far, I haven't found anything. Then this monster attacked me, and that other man tried to save me... " Plunkett shook his head and sighed. "Poor bastard. If he hadn't come along I'd be singing hymns in the monster's stomach right now."
Koudelka shrugged slightly, not much more than a lift of one shoulder and gestured toward the wooden door behind Plunkett.
"Let's go. And if you don't stop talking, I'll leave you here."
"I'll have you know I was pretty good at singing hymns when I was a boy; sung soprano in the church choir," Edward pursued.
Koudelka sighed. What an idiot, she thought. "My name is Koudelka. And I'm only going to say this once, so don't forget; if you want to get out of here alive, I suggest you stick very close. Got it?"
Plunkett offered her his hand and when she refused it, he wiped it on his pants instead.
"Charmed, I'm sure."
With a tsk of disgust, Koudelka pushed past him and pulled open the wooden door, and in another moment, the two stepped through and the door closed with the squeak of rusty metal and a heavy thud.
Yuri waited for their footsteps to recede before climbing back over the stack of crates. He returned to the corpse of the younger harmonixer and looked down. He kicked at the boots and then looked at his own shabby ones before kneeling and pulling them off. After a few seconds he had the boots removed and was unbuttoning the leather trousers, peeling them off the dead body.
"Sorry brother, but you don't need these an' I can use them," he muttered as he worked, then laughed at the state of the body. His younger self was just as thin and muscular as he remembered, with the peppering of scars from years of combat covering arms, chest and legs. What Yuri hadn't expected was the reaction in death and he laughed softly as he pulled off his own trousers and replaced them with the leather ones.
"Heh-heh, younger brother was enjoying himself," he chuckled and when he finished dressing, threw his own clothes on top and rolled the corpse into the shadows. "There, now for the second one. Hope those two can stay alive without me," he said and pulled open the wooden door. "Course, they'll have that damned James in a little while, but still –"
Yuri snorted and slammed the door shut on his way out. He knew the way outside and thought he had, perhaps, two or three hours before Koudelka and her party reached the church; he simply had to wait at the arbor in the inner grounds of the monastery. He paused to listen as he entered the corridor above the caretaker's quarters, hesitating at the top of the stairs. Below, he knew, Koudelka and Edward would be fighting a monster in the herbarium and rescuing that priest. Part of him wanted very much to go after them, assist in the fight. He knew Koudelka was capable of taking care of herself, and would gain strength by the end of the night, but he had promised to protect her and he felt compelled to do just that. Instead, he shook his head and trotted down the small hallway and into the dark passage beyond. He would have to hurry if he were to get to the arbor and remain hidden from all the monsters, Koudelka, and anyone else around.
When he finally reached the outside, after several fights along the way, Yuri sprinted toward the old arbor in the center of the inner grounds. It was getting late and the heavy clouds that had lowered for most of the day and evening were now sitting pregnant with rain. A heavy mist too had rolled in and the usual wind had died down as if in expectation of the first lightening of the waiting storm. Yuri came to a stop at the fountain, his boots skidding on the mist-wet flags and he sat on the rim, looking down at his dim reflection. He looked so much older than the last time he had looked at himself; lines had begun to form around his eyes, and that pesky facial hair returned almost daily. He ran a hand through tousled locks and cocked his head to one side, watching the play of shadows on his face.
Man, how old am I now? he wondered then let his bangs fall, listening. He could hear the quiet shuffling of nearby zombies and skittering of animal feet in the mist. Probably those damn cats, he thought and looked around for the magic-wielding felines, but nothing came into immediate view. With the fog floating around him, and the mist wrapping around his boots, Yuri sat on the fountain and waited.
About an hour before midnight Yuri, who had slumped down onto the flags and huddled close to the fountain, heard an explosion. The sound came from the church and he rose to check the area in time to see Koudelka running from the church. Nodding he knew she had run afoul of the gargoyle and barely escaped with her life. Now he knew she would wander the grounds until she found her way below. Something she said before suddenly rang in his ears, about the arbor and the old caretakers.
"Ah, that's right. She'll be coming here," he muttered and looked around for a place to hide. The darkness was not as complete as he remembered it from before - there had been a wind that night and the clouds scudded across a pregnant moon. "I wonder if I fucked that up too," he said aloud as he kicked his way across the cobbles toward the gate; with any luck, she wouldn't investigate this area and instead go directly into the arbor. In a corner near the gate was the statue he'd seen before, muscular and forbidding with that wonderful sword, Sacnoth, raised above its head.
"Yeah, too bad I can't get that sword. It beats that stupid Tyrving that Keith was always swinging about." Yuri looked up at Sacnoth and shivered, the hairs on the back of his neck suddenly prickling and he looked around, expecting trouble. The clouds, which had lain light and quiet, were beginning to roil in an offshore wind that was climbing up the coast and Yuri could smell the rain as it fell, gratefully, outside the monastery. Along with the sense of danger he also felt confused. A name from somewhere, he couldn't remember, and the feeling he should know the man Keith. A confused image flashed in his mind of China many years ago.
He stood by the dirty window of the second floor hotel; he usually slept outside but this night he had luck with the bottle and the woman. In the sagging mattress a woman from the bar lay sleeping, her arms thrown back over the tumble of blankets revealing an ample pair of endowments that had sent him thrashing like a madman between her legs before the sun had set. Head buzzing with liquor he didn't remember much, if any, of the pre-bedding conversation – in fact he had no interest in anything except what she had opened to his need. But now, in the predawn cold, standing half naked at the dark window, he wondered what had wakened him. He looked down the street, the lamps fading to yellow in the dark and neither man nor beast walking about. He sneered; whatever it was, it was not his concern.
He watched a few minutes more before turning back to the warm bed, kicking aside a sheet that had slid to the floor. Time enough for one more ride with the whore before the landlord rousted out the riffraff, including him. One knee on the bed he swung his other leg over the mound of blanket and woman beneath him, pulling down the ratty material to reveal the rest of the full blown body he'd enjoyed the night before. The woman murmured in her sleep, lashes fluttering before dark eyes opened to stare at the needy man straddling her. That's when it hit him, a grinding pain like a thousand bullets piercing his head and he suddenly shrieked in agony, flinging himself off the bed and cowering on the floor, his head held in his hands and his entire body wracked with the intensity of the pain.
A voice spoke in his mind, the same voice he had heard a hundred times, whispering words he only half heard or understood. A voice that, without fail, brought him untold grief and pain.
"Train…re grl…Proct…"
"Arrggghh," Yuri groaned and the woman on the bed sat up, watching the young man writhe on the floor. "God damn, damn, damn."
"You all right sonny?"
Yuri's world was awash in darkness, red sparks flashing with the pounding pain and the raking rasp of claws through his brain. I swear to God if I ever find you I'm gonna kill you, he thought, cursing his life, cursing his power and cursing that damned voice!
Yuri winced with memory and shook his head, clearing away thought and feeling, letting the cold wind now blowing in over the monastery walls chill him before he moved on, away from the gate and behind the statue. His thoughts boiled and his stomach felt sour; something was not right about that last memory, something didn't feel good. He remembered the room, the warm voluptuous woman beneath him, riding her to satiation more than once and he remembered standing on the platform waiting for the train, having awoken an hour before from his sleep out in a nearby field, alone. How could he remember both at the same time?
A distant sound caught his attention and he shook off the remembered pain and confusion in time to duck behind the statue. He craned his neck to squint into the semi-darkness and caught sight of Koudelka making her way across the inner grounds of the monastery, heading for the arbor. His fingers itched, his hands desiring nothing more than to strangle the enemies he knew she would meet below. But he knew she would survive without him so he waited counting to ten, then fifty then one hundred before climbing back to his feet and crossing the grounds to the fountain to wait. Soon, it would be soon and he had to clear his mind if he wanted to make a quick end to this coming combat.
He was older now and, he thought, wiser than he had been when he first stepped foot in the monastery in 1898. That first time he had been both young and confused and unprepared. Without weapons, he would rely on his own strength, cunning, and fusions to survive an attack by a superior foe. Yuri was that foe, and he had weapons. He also had motivation; he wanted to get back to Koudelka and this was his ticket out of Nemeton. And so he waited, counting the minutes until he heard another explosion, knowing it was James and his nitroglycerin.
Now, he thought. I remember hearing that before. I'm here now, somewhere. He turned around, scanning the inner grounds, focusing eyes and ears on the slightest movement, the tiniest sounds. His body was taut, like a bow, and he could feel the movement of the air across his skin, the kiss of the fog like a dead lover. There - across the grounds – movement. He ducked down, squatting in the dark to watch as the mist swirled and parted as a trench coated man stepped out of the shadows, brushing himself off. Silently he waited, watching his younger self as he looked around, realizing where he was, and when, then as the man turned toward the church, Yuri moved, running swiftly across the dark distance and leaping at the last moment, landing with a grunt onto himself.
The next few seconds were a free-for-all as Yuri struggled against Yuri, fists locked on coat, legs kicking and thrashing as they turned and tumbled across the flags of the courtyard before finally coming to a crashing halt at the fountain. Yuri picked himself up, dragging his other self up by the collar, and then slamming him down against the lip of the fountain, head contacting stone with a loud crack. Blood splattered along the stones and Yuri cursed, calling down demons and devils onto the man trying to kill him. With a shove, the younger man kicked Yuri away, moving him back mere inches, but enough for him to get in a good kick before sliding out of Yuri's grasp. Yuri grinned, delighted at the younger man's tenacity and spunk. This would be fun!
Yuri slipped out of the older man's grasp, sending a boot heel toward his legs but missing. It didn't matter; it got him the few seconds he needed to slip free and spin around, assessing the situation. The fountain was to his left and a set of stone steps at his elbow. A flick of his eyes told him they lead toward the church. He scowled at the man in front of him, dressed identically, his face a carbon stamp of his own, yet not. The man was older, different; something about the man screamed crazy and Yuri, not sure if he was believing this, knew that here was himself from some other time. How that could be he didn't know, but he knew one thing as a certainty: he had to kill this madman or die himself.
There's no way I'm dying at that guy's mitts, he thought, wishing he had his Nightbird claws. With a smirk, he raised his chin in defiance at the older man and reached for a fusion.
Yuri saw the defiant glint in his younger self's eyes and the tilt of his chin. Yup, he's got balls, he thought. He's gonna do it. Lessee, who'll it be? Grinning in spite of himself, Yuri sidled to his left, bunching his leg muscles for a leap, and then springing into the air, surprising his younger self again and smashing him into the steps behind. His head hit the paves and more blood painted the stones, and Yuri chuckled softly, knowing the younger man's head had to be spinning. Not waiting to see what the response would be, Yuri grabbed the other man's coat with his left hand, hauling him up to met his suddenly descending fist; the right fist smashed into his face, breaking the nose and blood spurted out, bathing them both. The other man scissored his legs, trying to twist free but Yuri tossed him aside, leaping over the legs and landing with an agile hop back near the fountain.
"You ain't gonna get me that easy, punk," he said and had the satisfaction of watching the younger man jump to his feet, not ready to give up just yet; there was a fire in his eyes as red supplanted amber and suddenly his body warped, shimmering and twisting as it grew in stature and power. A moment later Amon stood where the younger Yuri had, his black lips pulled back in a feral grin. "Ah, now we get down to it," Yuri said with his own grin and pulled his own fusion. A blurred moment of transformation later, the two Yuri's faced off, Amon to Amon and neither was willing to give an inch. Yuri knew he was in for the fight of his life and relished every second of it.
Amon made the first move, his wings opening up and with a flip, carrying him forward to impact the waiting Yuri. He grappled with his twin, fist against fist, knee against knee, each vying for the stronger hold, the more powerful force to move the other back, to gain the upper hand. Yuri twisted and turned in Amon's grip, shoving them both to one side as he now turned his back to the fountain and pushed, his wings fully extended. They moved back quickly, the ground passing bare inches beneath them until they slammed against the solid metal and wood of the front gates. There was a resounding gong of sound as Amon smashed into the gates and he growled, the beginnings of a defiant roar in his throat. Yuri smirked, his own black lips pulled back in glee; this was much more fun that fighting those shadows had ever been.
Yuri moved back once more and forced Amon into the gate, grunting with the effort and sending shivers though the metal and bending one of the bars. Amon's growl grew louder and suddenly Yuri found himself being pushed back toward the fountain by the younger fusionist. Amon's great black wings caught the air as they beat and carried them both to the arbor where Yuri found himself smashing into the building, roof tiles and stones shattering with the impact and sending them both crashing through the roof and into the small building. The stone floor stopped their descent and both fusions landed in a sprawl next to the dissection table and the two dead caretakers.
Amon was the first to rise, grabbing the first thing to hand, he shoved it into the other fusion's face; the male corpse, bloated with oncoming decay, exploded on impact and Yuri found himself covered in gore. With a snort, he climbed to his feet, using his left shoulder and razored forearm to fend off the returning attacks of the younger man. Once upright, he used that same razored arm as a weapon, thrusting at the other fusion, but quickly realized that was a mistake. Blood had splattered over the arbor floor and Yuri's footing was precarious, his feet sliding in the ooze. He missed his first strike at Amon and mentally cursed himself for not realizing his peril. With a change of tactics, he leapt upward, clearing the shattered roof and soared high above the inner grounds. With a quick waive, he summoned dark magic, sending a pounding wave down to the ground, smashing the arbor to small bits. However, rising from the smoke of destruction was Amon, and Yuri grit his teeth in frustration.
Amon rose on the winds, spiraling upward, his wings opened wide and his hands already moving to summon his own dark magic. Yuri yawed right, falling out of the sky just as the magic left Amon's fists, shattering the air behind him. Yuri's own fusion wings beat hard, pitching him around again and back at Amon, his right arm extended, and claws open to grab the other fusion. A moment later they collided in mid-air, Yuri's sharp claws grabbing Amon's neck. For a minute they spun in the air above Nemeton, a confusion of legs, wings, and razor sharp claws, before Amon pulled free, dark magic on the tips of his clawed fingers, and in the next heartbeat, Yuri was struck with power as it lanced out from the other fusion and pierced one wing. Shouting in pain, he spun away, a trail of black blood dribbling from the wing's membrane.
This had gone on too long; Yuri felt a knot of fury building in his gut and a trail of heat tingled along his nerves – his fusion shifted in his mind as if taking a personal interest in this contest and Yuri wondered for a brief moment, what would happen if he let it go. Amon was not like his other fusions, he was a powerful demon in his own right. Yuri knew it had been luck, skill and his own forceful personality that allowed him to fuse with the demon lord, but part of his reckless self wanted very much to see just how far the fusion would go if left a little freedom. After a moment's hesitation, and even as he was turning once more in mid-air to avoid another attack by his younger self's power, he let it loose.
Suddenly his mind was filled with darkness and an almost overwhelming sense of power. He knew no restraints; he had all the power he could ever need right here in his own dark hands. And no one, not even another demon, could lay claim to his supremacy. With a negligent flip, Yuri found himself rising higher in the windy sky, dark clouds whipping past him and coating him with their rain-laden moisture. Up he went, until the monastery was nearly lost in the clouds, before spinning and descending once more. Ignored was the pain in the injured wing, and forgotten was any idea of finesse; this was war, and Amon reveled in it. Yuri could feel the fiery anger exploding from his gut and pulsing into his limbs, making his heart race and his mind spin. The ground rushed up, and Yuri's fusion summoned his dark magic, forming a circle of energy in his fists larger than he'd ever used before.
Flying up to meet him was Amon, the other fusion and his weak harmonixer host. That one had proven a surprise for his own harmonixer, but not now, for Amon wanted to give them his blessing and he built it up in his hands until the energy crackled like lightening and the smell of ozone was strong in the cloudy air. Seconds later, just as the other fusion rose up to meet him in the clouds, Yuri let fly the power in his hands, veering off at the last moment to avoid colliding with the rising lesser fusion, Amon. Seconds later the sky exploded in lightening, black energy cascading through the clouds, tumbling and crashing until they exploded over the church tower and arced downward, striking the other fusion, and striking the bell tower. The tower suddenly crumbled, tumbling over the side of the church and Yuri could see figures fleeing the destruction even as another monster climbed over the side of the building.
Spinning around in midair, Yuri flung himself downward once more, the dark shadow of the other Amon rising, wobbling, above the demolished church bell tower. Energy spheres formed in his fists, and he shot these like cannons at the other fusion, striking him, pushing him back until he collided with him; clawed hands grappled with Amon, digging into the weakened armor of his flesh as his own wings carried them back toward the ground, and toward the front gates, the air whizzing past them in their passage. A moment later, they crashed into those wood and metal gates, the metal screaming as it bent and tore free, and the gates exploding outward, crashing onto the dirt roadway below.
Yuri continued on, carrying the struggling Amon on his claws, a fiery glee burning in his eyes as they flew up over the roadway and down again, heading straight for the Irish Sea and the sharp cliffs running along the shore. The other fusion looked around, seeing the churning ocean beneath them, and realized his danger, but by then it was too late. With a forward surge, Yuri directed their flight downward toward the cliffs. Amon struggled harder, twisting and turning in his grasp, his sharp toenails scoring down Yuri's legs, the razor sharp claws tearing gouges in his chest, but Yuri did not hesitate, did not slow his forward plunge toward the cliffs and in the next instant the cliffs of Aberystwyth rocked with the impact, boulders showering down into the sea and great clouds of dust rising on the wind, washing over the small village and the ruinous monastery on the bluff.
The flesh beneath him was soft, and pliant, and she fit him like a well-worn glove, but what the hell - she was a whore after all, and he was just using her. He let the rhythm of his movements and the soft, panting moans of the woman wash over him, her empty words of love and encouragement bringing a smile to his lips as he pushed toward climax and fulfillment. This was as close to love as he ever got; he knew she lied, his money paid for her lies, but damn! – it was good to think someone in this godforsaken world cared for him, even if it was a lie bought with booze and gold. He shuddered, his climax taking him as he filled her before rolling off her pliant body, the rocks beneath him poking him in the back once again and making him sit up. Cold, damp, and filthy he looked around. Yeah, the hills just outside of town and below, the train that would take him to ... he didn't know where, but he knew it was adventure. That damned voice directed him and he went ... although there would come a day of reckoning with that pain in his head. He rubbed his face and trailed his gloved fingers through his shaggy hair, breathing in the cool air. Damn, that was a good dream, he thought as he rose to his feet, shaking dirt and twigs from his trench coat. Too bad it was only a dream; now I need a woman... fat fucking chance of that any time soon.
In the distance, he heard the train whistle and kicked at the dirt with his boots. He had to catch that train or that voice would come back and rip his head off for him. Now that he didn't want, so he began to run, covering the mile to town with a few minutes to spare. Only a few passengers were waiting on the platform; crates of chickens and other assorted farm animals were stacked at the edge, and a handful of Chinese were milling around quietly. Yuri stood silently, watching the approaching train, his ticket in his gloved hand and with a tingle of excitement beginning to play along his nerves. Something was going to happen.
After a few minutes, the train pulled into the station with great puffs of steam and the stink of fuel oil. There were loud shouts as porters helped the passengers, with their crates, to climb aboard, and Yuri walked toward the front of the train and the salon car. Through the windows, he could see Japanese soldiers and he moved back, taking the entrance to the next car. It was dark and dingy, and needing a coat of paint and he seriously doubted it would fly.
"You don't expect us to fly in that thing do you?" he asked, an unknown fear of heights suddenly warring with his desire to be brave in front of the pretty blonde.
"Oh for god's sake Yuri, you're a boy - show some gumption! Climb in." He did, barely settling himself in the narrow confines before the petite blonde climbed in on top of him and settled her perky little butt onto his lap.
"Whoa, Alice," he said with a breathy laugh and then caught himself, trying to slow his rapidly beating heart and the sudden interest his lower regions were having in the delicate female now gracing his legs. Why now, he thought; why did he wanna do it now, of all times? The little blonde wiggled slightly, settling herself more firmly on his lap and then turned delft blue eyes onto him, her porcelain skin flushed and her delicate pink lips parted ever so slightly in a smile.
"I'm sorry Yuri, am I too heavy for you?"
"Nah, yer plenty light, Alice," the young man said and blinked, trying hard to not stare at the beauty on his lap as well as keeping the sleep from overwhelming him. He hadn't slept much last night and they'd both been walking and fighting. He had stood watch at Fengtian while Alice slept, and now was feeling the time catching up to him.
"Man, I need a nap or somethin'," he muttered, and put his head back against the ratty headrest in the plane's cockpit. "Wake me if something happens, okay Alice?"
"Of course, get your rest," the young woman said and waited as Yuri settled himself and closed his oddly colored eyes in sleep.
Yuri could hear the drone of the plane in his dreams, oddly disjointed dreams about his father and mother and the day she was killed. The Earth Sage sent us, the villagers had said, as they ambled and shuffled their way into the Hyuga's small home. Yuri ran forward, ostensibly to protect his mother, but when the men entered, their desiccated faces becoming clear in the light of the cook fire, he moved back, taking shelter in his mother's warm skirts.
"S-stay away," he said, his voice muffled, but the villagers, now turned zombies, did not respond; only shuffled forward with murderous intention.
"He-heh, everyone's so scared of me they won't open their doors," a gruff voice issued from behind the zombies and there, standing on the nearby fence post was a ghost of a girl. She was bloated in death, her eyes and joints black with rot, her lips pulled back in a rictus of pain and despair. "How glorious… She'll be in agony until the very moment of her death. The same agony I tasted," and the ghost flickered and vanished.
"God damn it all to HELL!" Yuri shouted and ran across the intervening space, threatening the dead woman with his fists. But she was gone, leaving only her rasping laugh and him, feeling helpless.
"Yuri, come on, she needs us," the spy cried and he turned to help her carry the unconscious blonde to the nearby restaurant.
"She's under a strong curse," the old woman said as she directed them into the Sea Turtle restaurant. Yuri and Margarete set her on a nearby mat and Yuri knelt at her side.
"That damned ghost cursed her," he said and his words ground out with a mixture of fear and anger. This couldn't be happening, not to Alice. "But what can we do, Sea Mama? There's gotta be something?" he turned concerned amber eyes onto the old woman.
"Calm yourself, I've called upon a warlock more powerful than I. He should arrive soon." She ambled over to the semi-conscious girl and looked down at her. "She's so pale; so much like Li Li."
"Li Li? Who's that, Sea Mama?"
"A girl who died fifteen years ago, yet visits this village with her curses each night. You met her earlier."
"Oh, the bitch," Yuri muttered.
"Shlooop, shlooop, splat," Sea Momma said.
"What?"
"It was like a wet, sloppy piece of meat slithering across the ground."
Yuri stood up and looked down at the old woman. "What?"
"And then the gulls began to screech too, perhaps because they wanted that meat," the old woman continued, "Schlooooop, skreee, skreee, shoop, shlooop, splat."
"Yer not makin' sense here, Sea Mama," Yuri said. He looked around and blinked. At his feet was a black lacquer table loaded with food, steaming dishes, and fish. Margarete and Alice were sitting at the table, eating, each taking dainty morsels with their chop sticks. Across the table sat that old fart Zhuzhen and next to him, the old perv Dehuai. Now who invited him?
Zhuzhen speared a bit of squid with his chops and popped it into his mouth. He looked up at Yuri and then indicated the table.
"Sit and eat, boy. You know for generations, the villagers here have worshipped the Blue Dragon at an undersea shrine. But a month ago that shrine was attacked."
Yuri smirked as he bent his knees and sat down. "Which means, Mister Smarty-Sage, you know who the big boss is, right?"
Zhuzhen chewed silently his one eye peering at the idiotic boy.
"Naturally. It's Albert Bacon, the mad scientist from Shanghai," the old man said. Yuri blinked several times, staring at the old adept.
"Yer fucked, you know that?" he said.
"What did you say?" the old adept asked, crossing the platform to look down at Yuri from above. The old coot had really taken the hits from the previous battles, Yuri noted, and smirked with pride. The bastard had tried to summon some demented demon and his old man, Ben Hyuga, had taken the asshole down to size. One arm and leg were now grafted onto his body, the replacement parts more demon than human, as his own body was shredded in the combat. Of course, Ben had lost his life in that fight as well and Yuri meant to even the score a little on dad's behalf. Standing with hands on hips, the young Harmonixer yelled at Dehuai –
"You heard me you old perv! Yer fucked, an' I'm gonna do it to ya!"
Dehuai scowled, his thin white hair trailing down his shoulder as he bent slightly to look down on the boy.
"Detestable harmonixer brat! You are too late to stop me. Already my Spirit Machine is draining the life force from the young Demon Eyes," Dehuai called down.
Zhuzhen shook his head. "You never change, Dehuai. I am ashamed to have a brother in the Arts who has twice strayed from the right path. I guess I better deliver the last rites."
"Ha! Like you could!" the old man snarled. "Very well then; come up. I'll be waiting for you."
Yuri scowled, his brows beetling in a sudden fit of rage. "You turnin' yer back on me you bastard!" he shouted and fused, calling on his winged fusion to rise toward the upper platform and Dehuai. Wings beating, his birdlike vision caught the Earth Sage as he paused in his hobbling walk to admire his handiwork. The entire tower was turned into his machine and, in the corner of the platform, was a cross-shaped apparatus upon which he had strapped the young exorcist, Alice Elliot. Dressed in a skimpy blue dress, her white stockings stained and bedraggled, she looked even more helpless and delectable than Yuri remembered. But then, before he had moved a feather, the old pervert turned toward Alice and lifted her dress, slipping his hand inside. Alice squirmed on the cross, crying out in dismay and revulsion.
"We'll see how long your sassy little attitude lasts," Dehuai said, and pushed his fingers in a little more, watching her reaction. What he got instead, was the harmonixer's reaction as the furious fusion let fly with a magical wind shear, slicing at the Earth Sage and tearing bits of his clothing away from his mangled old body.
"What? You dare..." the old man turned and a blast of crimson energy left his demon-like hand and crashed into Yuri, sending him spiraling to the lower floor, his pinions bending back painfully as he landed at the foot of the stairs once more.
"God damn that hurt." The fusionist groaned, shaking off both his fusion, and the pain of Dehuai's magic.
Yuri was climbing the metal steps two at a time; the damned things seemed to go on forever. Above he could hear the cackling laugh of that demented pervert and Alice's protest. What was he doing to her? He better not be touching her, the angry fighter was thinking as he finally reached the top step.
"I hope you enjoy this," Dehuai cackled, grinning maliciously, and forcing his fingers into the warmth of her, enjoying her look of dismay at his pillaging.
"They'll come for me, I know it... Help, Yuri... Help me," tears were spangling her eyes and she turned her face away from the old sage, watching with desperate hope for her rescuer. Those same pleading eyes met Yuri as he broached the last stair, and he instantly took in Dehuai's cackle and challenge.
"Is she not delectable, harmonixer? Delicious," he said with toothy glee.
Yuri screamed curses in three languages, and he leapt across the space and attacked Dehuai.
Yamaraja Calamity squatted against the far rail on the rooftop and grunted, his clawed hands moving quickly to summon a great dragon of fire. The fiery beast exploded out of nowhere, swirling madly around the trio and sending Alice to her knees, coughing and wheezing. Next to her, Zhuzhen was using his Taoist arts to make a quick magical potion that he put to her lips as she slowly climbed to her feet. On the other side was Yuri. Passion and fury warred in his eyes as he turned aside the fiery attack, and leapt in for a four-armed attack of his own. His heart was beating rapidly, the anger he felt for this old man threatening to burst its bonds, and his fusion, Ifrit, had answered his call to combat. Fire against fire – it was a fair fight. Until Dehuai moved suddenly, his speed such that his form blurred and he suddenly appeared next to Alice. With one great fist, he slapped her down, and Yuri could see the magic behind the blow: she was petrified. If Zhuzhen couldn't help her... if he didn't have the curative items to help her... she would die, her heart frozen, her lungs unable to breathe... Fury burned brightly, and he moved in to slam his four fists into the Yamaraja's gut, then leapt back to summon his own brand of fire.
A deafening explosion followed as Ifrit's Blaze magic crashed over the monster that had once been Dehuai, and the old man suddenly collapsed in on himself, falling face down in the center of the Mandala of Hell. Yuri released his fusion and looked up at the sunset sky, the oval arc of the Mandala rising above them and the winds whipping around like a cyclone. The sorcerer, Roger Bacon, hovered just out of reach, his cultured English voice grating on the young harmonixer's ears.
"Break your seal, O God of the Heavens!" he called out and Yuri ground his teeth as Kuihai Tower shook with the released energies of the Reverse Demon's Gate Invocation. The Seraphic Radiance, God of the Earth, rose from the wheel – two huge red-feathered wings covering Her horrific features. Debris from the combat spattered against him, the wind grabbing the tattered ends of his trench coat, but he didn't care. Only one thing was on his mind right now: to stop the invocation before disaster could strike.
Looking up at Bacon, he shouted: "You! You bastard!"
Bacon looked down at the four people gathered on the roof and especially at Yuri.
"For a battle between ants, I was unexpectedly moved," he said and his lips wore that ever-present, pleasant smile.
"Bacon! You fuckin' bastard! You've pissed me off now!" Yuri shouted and turned amber eyes onto the rising God. Without a backward glance, he began to run, sending the first tendrils of his soul outward, rising on the winds and making straight for the monstrous god.
"No! What are you doing? Boy, are you planning to fuse with that thing?" Zhuzhen shouted, but his words were lost in the cacophony of sound that crashed around them from the wind, and the rising monster. Yuri paid them no mind, instead continuing to rise up toward the Seraphic Radiance, his body glowing now with the power of his soul fusion.
"Let's get friendly," he said with a smirk, thinking he'd be able to conquer this thing as easily as he had his other fusions. He reached the monster in another moment, his body passing through the monster's flesh like water. Muscle, tissue, tendons, all gave way before him as his body and soul melded with the Earth God. Now, for the take-over, he thought and opened his mind to God.
Images flashed in his mind, strange and alien landscapes with horrific creatures passing his mind's eye. Thunder crashed, and great bolts of lightening exploded in his mind and he realized he was seeing the world of the Seraphic Radiance; incomprehensible, yet his mind struggled to understand. Thoughts and feelings assailed him, fleeting in their proximity, alien and unknown. He reached out to grasp them, to bind them and they obeyed. Confident, he reached out for more, capturing tendrils of the alien soul with his mind.
A part of him now looked down on the world below through crimson eyes. The roof top with the three puny humans shook beneath him and he could hear on the howling wind, Alice's high pitched scream of despair.
"Yuri! Don't do it!"
art of him smiled, wanting to tell her it was all right, that he was doing just fine. But then he caught sight of the other human, dancing and gyrating on the buffeting winds. Bacon.
"Most interesting," the warlock commented into the wind. "Fusing with a God, to defeat a God. But at your level, you'll be swallowed up by the darkness, just like the other one."
Yuri felt anger rising in him; how dare that fucking bastard tell him he wouldn't succeed. How dare he? And the anger rose like a current, tingling like electricity through his skin, through his mind, and suddenly his hand was moving, fingers opening in a casual gesture, his mouth opening in a shout of anger. Energy crackled at his fingertips and suddenly the world exploded. Wave after wave of fire leapt from the mere gesture of his fingers and Shanghai, that great and beautiful city on the sea, shuddered, rippled and then exploded in a fireball.
Yuri was suddenly dismayed at his actions, how had he lost control like that? He turned his mind away from the carnage below and sought to firm up his control of this, the greatest of fusion monsters, grabbing at soul tendrils. He was scrabbling now, working fiercely; the monster wasn't totally his yet, and he realized that, belatedly. Below Alice's voice climbed up once more, piercing his concentration and he shuddered as her words reached him.
"Yuri... Your soul is fading!"
Fading? That's not possible, he thought. He turned his mind once more to his task and came face to face with terror. The mind of the Seraphic Radiance turned toward him, finally aware of his presence. In a heartbeat his mind was overwhelmed, the totally alien mind of the God of Earth surrounding him, engulfing him and he knew fear, he knew despair and in the end, he knew oblivion.
He was a plaything, a toy of sporadic amusement, the mind of a human child encompassed by the body, mind, and soul of a God. How had he thought he could conquer it? How had he thought he had the strength to make a God conform to his will? Yuri's life-long pain and suffering were as nothing before the pain and suffering that God granted him. A play-thing, he was little more than a play-actor in the imagination of God. Darkness, light, bright and dim, all were spiraling around him, and he prayed for darkness; he prayed to the dark that he remembered as a child: the Dark that was his father. But when he looked up, after praying for help, screaming it, all he saw was the fox mask. And then he knew it was his father there, holding him down, pressing him into oblivion repeatedly, with derisive laughter echoing in his mental hearing. Yuri wished he could just die.
No, you won't die, the voice said, and at first he thought it was the fox face. No, you won't die – you're stronger than that. I will help you. A feeling of warmth slowly enveloped him, shielded him, protected him, and he looked around but could see naught but the miasma that was the Seraphic Radiance. And Yuri made to speak, to ask a question, but the feeling stopped, the presence receded and he was alone again. Alone except for the fox – the God of Death that stalked his every thought, and he turned to run once more.
"Dad," Yuri said, wiping his brow with one arm, "how much do I have to do? Should I keep digging?"
"Deeper, idiot. Dig deeper!"
"Stop!" A light female voice.
"You'd cry for him? I hate that whiney crap." There was a sudden movement and a thud.
Yuri looked up from his digging. A figure lay in the dirt at his feet.
"No, dad! Don't hit mom!" he shouted.
"Shut up you idiot!" The fox struck him down, knocking him face first into the dirt next to the girl and he felt blood trickling down his chin.
"Keep digging!"
"Damnit! Yer not my dad!" Yuri yelled as he suddenly surged to his feet and knocked the fox masked man to the ground. "I'm not afraid of you anymore," he said. "No matter how many times I get knocked down, I can always stand up and fight again – cuz of her..." Yuri looked to his left and smiled.
"Heheh, long time no see," he said and flung one arm up to block the shaft of sunlight burning into his eyelids. "What the—"
With a moan, Yuri rolled over and fell off the stone of the grave marker. He had been lying on his back on the tumbled marker, his clothes ragged and wet, and he felt like he'd been run over by herd of water buffalo. His ears felt full of water and he wiped his face, spreading the grit of sand over his cheeks. With a snort, he sat up brushing dirt from him before looking around.
Daylight came in a rosy pink dawn, and the sun was even now sending shafts of light up the road from the east, and the black smoke of last night's fires still clung to the monastery stones, and a few fires continued to burn in patches, but outside the stone walls, a tent had been set up on a nearby verge, and an old swaybacked horse chomped tufts of grass close by. The night's winds had died down and seagulls cried in the cloudless skies, wheeling and turning in their never-ending search for food. With a sigh, Yuri climbed out of the graveyard and headed for the front gates.
He spotted Roger, the old hermit of the monastery, on his approach, and grinned at the frail appearance of the old man. He was taking slow, careful steps around the grounds, picking up items blown free from the explosion of the night before. Before Yuri could hail him, he had paused, looking up as the flap of the tent moved back and a young man exited, standing straight and tall, his blond hair ruffled from his night's sleep.
"Ah, the sun came out," he said to someone else inside the tent and then moved aside as a young woman joined him.
Koudelka pulled her coppery hair back and tied it with a length of leather, squinting up into the clear sky.
"I prefer it a little hazier though," she said softly then looked around. She spotted Roger ambling slowly down from the main gate, the remains of which lay in a mound by the road.
And Yuri stood in silence watching the scene, his heart wrenching to see Koudelka's warm and wistful smile shared with Edward… the man he had saved last night; the man who had just shared Koudelka's bed… A sudden pain in his head made him turn away, an inkling of anger turning to jealousy. He could, so easily, follow lover-boy and kill him. Hell, he could out-fly the blond bastard and take him from the horse, slice him in a million tiny ribbons of blood and flesh, and then return to reclaim his lover, his wife. He blinked suddenly and rubbed his eyes. When he looked up, Edward had already mounted the horse and was looking down at Koudelka with a crooked smile.
With a growl and a sigh he turned toward the gate again and joined them, pausing behind Koudelka as she and old Roger watched Edward ride away, his last look back was a jaunty waive.
"Are you sure you should let him go, child," Roger asked.
"Yes. It'll be all right. I have a feeling we'll meet again, someday," the gypsy said and turned toward Roger only to see Yuri leaning against the wall behind her. Startled she moved back, a hand moving toward her knife.
"Who are you?" she demanded.
Yuri stood his ground, looking down at the gypsy woman who, until a few hours ago, had been his lover.
"Oh, I'm – I'm just an adventurer. Name's Yuri Hyuga," he answered and resisted the impulse to take her in his arms. The woman stared hard at him for a moment, and then dismissed him, turning back toward the monk.
"What will you do now that your home is gone, Roger," she asked.
The old man shrugged, rubbing a bony hand over his bald pate. "Eventually I'll build an observatory to continue my studies," he said, "but in the meantime I can use the old caretaker's quarters. Wonder what happened to them."
"They're dead," Koudelka supplied.
"What about all the dead things?" Yuri asked, interrupting. "And the big monster."
Koudelka moved away from the wall and looked up at the still smoking tower remains. "Elaine has been... saved, at the sacrifice of a friend's life." Yuri had a sudden vision at her words, of a light shining down from heaven, mystical light energy or perhaps, angels, flying down and lifting James and Elaine up to heaven. He blinked and shook himself.
"Ah, good, good. And that one in the church? The gargoyle thing?"
"How do you know about that? How long have you been here?" she asked, her voice suspicious.
"Oh, uh, well, since last night," Yuri said, trying not to look at her, instead looking up at the stone monastery walls. "I went into the church only I saw a big stony lookin' thing..." and he shrugged.
"Ah, I see," she said but she turned her eyes onto him and stared very hard. She knew he was hiding something; his voice didn't ring true to her. "Well, I don't know if it's dead or not," she said slowly, choosing to ignore her feelings for now. "We tried but were unable to kill it before. It was too strong for us."
Yuri had felt beads of sweat suddenly popping out on his neck when she stared at him; she knew he was lying and he dreaded her calling him on it, but when she responded with words not magic, he grinned. "Ah, then there's one more to go. I'll take care of it for you," he said proudly and stood a little taller, a little straighter.
"Don't be ridiculous!" Koudelka exclaimed. "If the three of us couldn't defeat it, what makes you think you can do it all alone?"
"I don't see why not," Yuri said. "An' I won't be alone – you'll be there to cheer me on," and Yuri turned toward the broken gates.
"Oh, I'll watch all right," Koudelka said. "Just don't expect me to bury you."
Yuri chuckled as he passed by the statue in the courtyard, the blade Sacnoth still clutched within its metallic grasp.
Pity we don't have that, he mused, but I'll do just fine without it, an' we can get it later I suppose He led the others past the arbor, and paused at the entrance to the church. For the most part the building was in ruins, smoke and damage from the "lightening" having rendered most of the structure unsound and sending blocks of stone crashing to the inner grounds. The open portico at the church front was smashed to pebbles and the main doorway was blocked with rubble but Yuri took the stairs to the top before pausing at the wreckage.
"Now I know you're mad if you think you can break through that," Koudelka said and folded her arms, her lips pressed in disbelief. Yuri looked at the pile of rubble blocking the church door and shrugged.
"No sweat," he turned back to Koudelka and Roger, who had followed behind them. He stepped closer to Koudelka, putting his hand under her chin, lifting it with his thumbs. For a moment, she looked like she would move away, but when she didn't Yuri bent down closer.
"Don't be afraid. I won't hurt you. I would never hurt you," he said, looking intently at her before moving away from them, backing a few feet closer to the doorway.
Frowning, he concentrated on his fusions. Getting the doorway unblocked would be one and the gargoyle, he knew, would require his most potent fusion. With that in mind, he fused, his body becoming taller, more muscular, and his skin turned dark like iron, a pair of heavy wings opened from his back, and a long razor sharp bone grew from his left forearm. A pair of red eyes looked down on Koudelka and sent her shivering, placing her arms around herself. True to her power and bravery, she did not flinch or scream but watched as the man who had become a monster, turned toward the rubble blocking the door. He moved with lumbering steps and waived his arms in an odd pattern that Koudelka took for warnings then realized was ritual. The movement was slow and graceful, and when his clawed hands came together, it was with an explosion of dark light aimed directly at the doorway, and a second later the resultant explosion not only cleared the doorway of rubble, it shattered the remaining door frame and lintel and sent all flying into the church to crash and shatter into dust against the far wall. Koudelka gasped at the power the monster had just shown and again, when the monster turned toward her. His form blurred and warped and there stood Yuri, a satisfied smirk on his face.
"See? What did I tell ya, babe?" Yuri said. "An' you ain't seen nothin' yet."
"Wait," Koudelka said and she raised her hands. "I don't care who you say you are, or what you say you are doing here – but what you are is another thing."
"Oh, you mean Amon? He's a pussycat when ya get to know him," Yuri replied.
"It's a demon," Koudelka corrected.
"Yeah, so?"
Koudelka, standing with one hand resting lightly on her hip, stared hard at the fighter. "You sold your soul?" she asked bluntly.
"Nah," Yuri replied nonchalantly. "I fought him and beat him," he said. "An' now Amon is mine," and Yuri grinned boyishly.
"Amon?"
"Amon is the Lord of the Underworld," Roger interjected, speaking for the first time. "He is the Lord of Dark Souls and a formidable demon. And you... you fought it?"
Yuri rubbed the back of his neck and smiled. "Yeah, well, not cuz I wanted to. Then I beat him and got him for a fusion. He's good though, really."
"Fusion," Koudelka said and moved toward the church.
"Wait," Yuri stopped her, his hand on her shoulder. "The monster's in there – an' he'll come soon as we walk in."
"Do you really think you can do this?" Roger asked, his wrinkled eyes wide, and his long brown bony fingers pulling at the remains of his Franciscan robes. Yuri looked down at the old monk before squatting in front of him.
"We have to Roger," he said, looking up at the monk from his knees. "We need to defeat him, and seal him away, for everything to be right."
"What do you mean, 'for everything to be right'?" Koudelka asked.
"Well," Yuri said and rose to his feet again. "It's just that – well, I have the stone from before, and so I know it was done. 'Sides, Roger told me."
"I did?"
"Yeah, first time I was here. You said as how Koudelka had sealed away his power an' all. See?" Yuri reached into the small front pocket of the leather trousers and pulled out a cloth bag. He carried this bag all the way from Rouen when he'd found the first elemental stone. He'd left his original bag in Roger's house with Koudelka and the kids, but that didn't mean he didn't still have them in his pants from earlier. Grinning, he opened the bag and carefully spilled the stones into his open palm. Eight oddly shaped stones tumbled into his hand and began to glow softly with a dim inner light, and Koudelka took one up and rolled it in her fingers.
"That's a water stone," Yuri explained. "It helped me to get my water fusion, Egil." Koudelka nodded slightly and her eyes were mere slits as she felt the stone in her hand.
"It's not very strong, but I can feel the emanations of water and ice, and a touch of... healing?"
"Yup, Egil's aura. There's also wind, fire, light and dark," and Yuri pointed to each stone respectively.
"And these two?" Koudelka indicated the last stones. One was black, a vein of red ore running through it, and when Koudelka touched it she jumped back.
"It's evil, so evil," she breathed, shuddering.
"No, tamed, I guess."
"How can you tame such a thing?"
Yuri pulled his fingers through his long hair. "Not that hard, really. But we should get going. The gargoyle's waiting, an' I have another surprise for you. See that last stone? That helped bring me this," he pocketed the stones again and moved back, changing.
Fusing to Seraphic Radiance was always a thrill, both because of the sheer power, and the danger. Seraphic cooperated – he had no choice, but that didn't mean he wouldn't protest in his own way. Yuri remembered in the fight against Albert Simon's Meta-God that Seraphic Radiance was excited at the prospect of showing his true might and power through the vessel of the Harmonixer. But there had been that time... Yuri blinked and shook his head.
"Okay, here goes." Yuri reached in and called the Seraphic Radiance. The fusion eluded his grasp, teasing the fighter for a moment before merging with him. Yuri's body changed, his well-proportioned form now tattooed in dark, etheric energy that flashed and crackled over his bare limbs, while black wings rose proudly behind him. Koudelka had stepped back when Yuri started to fuse, and now stood with arms crossed and a crooked smile playing on her lips.
"And who are you supposed to be?"
"I am the Seraphic Radiance – a God of the Earth," Yuri supplied and a smile played across his ebony lips.
"A god..."
"All will be well. I will deal with the lowly demon in the church," Seraphic Radiance interrupted, and turned toward the church doors. With a negligent flip of his black wings, he launched himself into the church proper, soaring up to the high ceiling, hunting a gargoyle. He didn't have long to search as the stone creature winged from the dark recesses of the church, his own grey wings a stony testament to his demonic origins. He flew down to the floor and hovered over the dusty mosaics, wrapping those same wings around himself like a shield. His long muscular tail hanging down like a rudder, the gargoyle began to spin in place.
The Seraphic Radiance paused at the aphelion of his climb to the ceiling and looked down at the gargoyle; he remembered this foolish creature. He would destroy it once again, for all time. White hands came together as if in prayer, and energy formed in those hands, soon becoming a ball of white light. Seconds later the energy left Seraphic's hands, shooting downward toward the spinning gargoyle. Seraphic watched with red eyes as a taste of his power slammed into the gargoyle and bathed it in beatific light, and when the light had cleared, the gargoyle was gone, leaving only a trail of dust on the church floor. Then the fusion swooped down to Koudelka and Roger, the two of them still standing at the blown entrance, landing with a back sweep of his wings and a scattering of dust.
"Now the creature is dead," he said and his voice was a throb of power that sent chills down Koudelka's spine. "And now he can be sealed," he finished. Standing with arms folded against his chest, a smirk on his lips, and Koudelka thought there was just a touch of the cocky, yet petulant child, in this man-turned-monster. Yet in looking at him, in reaching out with a tremulous mental touch, she could feel no evil in him nor prejudiced hostility. Bacon stepped out in front of her and peered up at the taller man, looking with eyes that had seen more than most.
"Quite impressive," he said with more curiosity than quaver in his voice. "I don't suppose you do birthday parties."
The Earth God looked down at the diminutive child-like monk and grinned, a deep rumble beginning in his chest as laughter bubbled out. His body blurred, warping slightly as it returned to Yuri's leather clad and trench coated human form. He was still laughing and he swatted at the old monk with playful intent.
"Now all we hafta do is seal him away," Yuri said, looking up at Koudelka, his head tilted slightly and a silly grin on his face.
"I beg your pardon?" she asked. "What is this 'we' and what is it that's being sealed?"
"Why, the gargoyle of course. Like I said, Roger told me first time I was here."
Roger waived his hands between the two and cleared his throat. "And when was that, young man?"
Yuri grinned at the diminutive monk. "A year or so ago. It was just before we fought Simon and his stupid god-thingie. You were telling us about how Koudelka sealed away the Soul of Destruction, sealing his power for later. See?" He fished into his trousers once more for the small bag and pulled out one dark stone. "This is the Stone of Destruction – or anyway that's what you called it when I showed it to you."
Koudelka looked at the stone and nodded, sensing he was telling the truth even if he, in fact, wasn't. That confused her.
"You just showed me those stones earlier, and I said nothing about sealing them – you did. Yuri," she paused and looked at Roger before continuing, "I think you're delusional."
Yuri laughed. "I knew you'd say that. Damn, nobody believes me," he said chuckling. "Look, I know this is fucked up, but I been here so many times now, I can't keep track of what I tol' you and what I didn't. And right now I could use some grub. Any chance of some food? An' I'll explain what I can."
"We'll use the caretaker's quarters," Roger said. "There should be plenty of supplies there."
"Yeah, now that the old farts – oops, I mean couple are gone, there won't be any poison in the soup," Yuri said with a grin aimed at Roger. "So, who's cooking?"