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Chapter XXI
Dark-summoner
Year 2052 D.c,
South,
Rex Raptor hums a song, walking on the light-green corridors. The bleak ceramic squeaking under his boots, his voice buried under the screams of people and rattling of guns, blood painting the surroundings.
A smirk plays on his lips as he sees the glass windows on the left, forming an uninterrupted line. Coming closer at an unpreoccupied pace, he spies the floor below, a salon full of experimental tubes lined horizontally in two rows on each side, there are some people in there.
"Now, those are some goods!"
A scientist in a lab coat with the imperial blazon runs towards Rex, from behind him Uraby, a dark scaled dinosaur with crimson red eyes comes and grabs the man by the torso, shaking it like a sack of flour, bursting him into a gory mass of innards. The summoner snorts, shielding his face from the blood.
"Tomozaurus!"
A small brown dinosaur appears, rushing into the glass, crashing its whole body onto it, cracks appearing soon to be followed by a shattering noise.
Damn menial job. Couldn't they have sent someone lower to do this?
Shoving an arm to clean the remaining shards, he supports his hand on the window frame, jumping down, a winged dark dinosaur with a pointy head catching him onto its back, landing him safely.
"Stay on guard, Black Ptera."
He orders, exploring the place. Some of the experimental tubes still have people asleep inside, but what he was interested in were the ones outside.
At least I get to have some fun intruding into an Imperial lab.
All of them are women and children of varied ages, he licks his lips lecherously looking at the girls, all they wear are plain hospital gowns, some of them had gems on their hands or arms, others on the forehead or under the eyes, in all colors and shapes. Black Ptera roars behind him, scaring them even more, they hug each other in fear, trembling.
"Don't worry, ladies, I won't hurt you, it's just business. We need more catalysts!"
With a loud guffaw, he points at them, giving a signal. Barging from the door on the back of the large room, a bunch of soldiers appear, aiming their guns at the catalysts who scamper, screaming in desperation.
"No, no, we're all going home together," his malicious grin is enough to make Ptera fly over the group and block their escape. "Don't eat them!"
Cornered by the soldiers on one side and the duel monster on the other, they stick together, their sobbing becoming an ambience sound.
"Take them away!"
The soldiers comply with his order, going ahead they grab and shove the people towards an exit, their guns dictating the path they should take, escorting them out. Rex watches, delighted in the wickedness of it. No matter if it's the Shadow Riders, the Empire or anyone else, the catalysts will never escape their fate, a tragic but entertaining tale.
Some soldiers stay behind, checking the room and searching for the command panels. Soon, the capsules filled in a strange green liquid are open, the people inside plopping out like cattle ready for the butcher. The soldiers drag them away too, until Rex is left alone.
As he makes his way to the exit, he hears a dull, faint plop, his brows furrowing, scanning the vicinity until he catches a glimpse of a person, on the row of tubes behind the most visible ones.
A person comes out with wobbly legs, completely naked like the rest who were still being experimented on. His eyes narrow, a teenager boy?
A straggler. Damn lowly subordinates can't even do their job properly.
It's rare to see a male catalyst, he can't help but snigger at how pathetically the young man staggers, just to fall face down to the ground, his long brown hair covering part of his back and face. He'd like to joke that the boy is scrawny, but the thin constitution is probably due to the experiments and lack of nutrition.
"Come on, we don't have the whole day, lad!"
The boy's fingers twitch as he senses the older man drawing close. Supporting himself on his shaking arms, he sits down, standing up, tumbling a step to the side, a small mass of shadows converging around his eyes, imperceptible to the summoner.
Taking a red gemstone out of his pocket, Rex summons two Black Veloci, smaller dinosaurs whose claws were almost as big as its feet, dark purple scales contrasting with their shiny red eyes. They shriek behind him, to put pressure on the last catalyst. The teen simply turns around, unfazed, he's wearing nothing but a purplish mask with blue gems for eyes; a light-blue tourmaline bulging out of his chest.
Did he always have that mask?
"Hurry up! This place will be swarming with imps soon! We don't wanna get caught, slug!"
Not a single sound is heard, rather than that, the boy occupies himself in scrutinizing the vicinity, an unknown semblance underneath his mask.
"Huh? Whatcha doin'?" he looks at him from tip to toe, stopping at his crotch, a disgusted twist on his expression. "Just 'cause of yer size, it doesn't mean you can be cocky with me, kiddo."
Yanking a card out of his pocket, he holds it over his head proudly, the two duel monsters behind him are warped, blaring as they become a tribute to bring forth a new creature, from the dark hole formed, the head of Black Dragon comes out, its piercing red eyes gleaming, a shrill echoing in the whole void space, its body much larger than its predecessors, a fully dark carapace.
"Look, I don't care who you are. If ya not listening, I'll take you by force," he shrugs off smugly. "Boss' order, no catalyst shall be wasted!"
The catalyst's gaze runs up, to the dragon towering behind its master. Gaping subtly, allured by it, he touches his chest as if struck by a memory of his own.
Rex's face wrinkles in annoyance, even after he summoned his boss monster, the teen is inexpressive, not a hint of fear instilled in him. He hates those gutsy types the most.
"Red-Eyes! Get him! But leave him alive!"
The dragon's wings flap menacingly as it floats diving down, its claws making sparks and scratches on the ground as it lands in front of the boy, taunting with its head, its saliva splashing in the air with a roar. He could swallow the teen whole if he tried.
"Don't worry, he won't kill you, but it'll be painful!" Rex guffaws to himself, unlike him the boy does not find fun in the joke.
"Indeed, it will be," a grave, severe voice soars, startling the dinosaur summoner.
Wow, the dude has a deep voice. Whatever, he's just a catalyst.
His smirk slowly dissolves as the brown-haired teen stretches his hand towards the dragon, an unsettling aura leaking out of it. Rex steps back in reflex, a bead of sweat delineating his face.
What is that duel energy?
"An illustrious dragon. Your sleazy, filthy hands do not deserve it," his low tone made the whole dialogue more ghastly. "I know someone who'd be a much better master."
"The only master of Red-Eyes is me! Stop ogling it, you batshit!"
"This dragon, I saw it in his memories, it's his favorite card," he mumbles to himself.
This is a gift to you, Atticus.
"Stop yapping!"
His voice echoes in the room, causing a flinch on Rex. "Poor creature, commanded by an unworthy master, chained by the boundaries of humans. It is time to break free," waving his stretched hand down, as if hypnotized, the Dragon's body follows the movement, shoved to the ground with a loud thud in an instant. "Listen to the whispers of the void."
"Stay away from him your-"
Rex gargles speechless, the amassment of energy coming out of that teen's body is immense, he can see the pressure onto the monster, if he dares step closer, that energy will devour him. Should catalysts be this powerful? This isn't normal.
Red-Eyes stares into that mask of the unknown young man, paralyzed as if bound by invisible threads. The teen approaches menacingly, the vile energy enveloping his body, cloaking him in black garments, like magic.
Kneeling down, his hand positions atop the head of the dragon, his voice intruding its ears, its body shuddering at it, in terror:
"I am Darkness and from now on, you shall become more."
The power around his hand spreads violently, dark flames mantling the whole silhouette of the dragon who squirms in pain.
"H-hey, what are ya-"
The flames explode all around, darting aside. "Be reborn as Red-Eyes Darkness Dragon!"
The Black Dragon's body is fully armored, gems on its wings and bent knees, lines of glowing red, like pure lava flowing forming patterns on its wings and body, its shrill even more ear-throbbing than before. Rex has to cover his ears. Just what happened? He forcefully took over the duel monster.
With trembling hands, he looks at the Red-Eyes Black Dragon card he's been holding, but the image where his monster should be drawn is completely empty.
What the hell?! My card! The image vanished! The spirit of my monster, he swooped it!
Appalled, his glare lands on his enemy, the teenager who seemed harmless until then, opens a hand, a fire burning, giving shape to the card of Red-Eyes Darkness Dragon, a tainted version of its original.
How did he get that card?! This can't be… A dark-summoner?!
Interlude IX - Dark summons, from a study of various sources.
As widely known, summoning involves making a contract with a duel monster. A contract is a pact between the monster and its summoner that must be respected equally from both sides.
Unlike what many believe, contracts aren't merely spoken agreements. For instance, monsters without any intelligence to communicate would never be able to form a contract if that was true, but the summoners still manage to summon them. That's because the main part of a contract is the card of a monster, its core.
Cards are a link bonding the monster's spirit and its physical form to our realm. Thus, to have a contract the main requirement is the card, which makes rare cards valuable in the market.
There is, however, an exception to that rule: Dark-summoners. While it's a broad term and there are many types of dark-summons, the original meaning of it refers to the ones who enslave others duel monsters.
Contradicting the rules, dark-summoners are able to ravish contracts through sheer power, a vicious one. Not much is known how they do it, but it's believed their duel energy is special, able to reach different waves than any normal summoner's and due to that, they're able to seize spirits from other summoners by transferring their energy into it until the card is disrupted and can no longer link with the spirit, thus stealing then the contract by breaking the bond between original master and creature, which makes dark-summoners extremely perilous to deal with.
With an overwhelming duel energy, they twist duel monsters to servitude, and this is another reason they're feared among their peers, their monsters become extremely rampant, violent and much stronger than a common one. Because of its ruthless nature, dark-summoning is considered barbarian and an offence to the rules of many countries, thus it was banished from many regions and those who use it are dealt strict lawful punishment.
Year 2052
In the lab,
Rex blinks awake of his stasis, his ear buzzing, he cannot believe it. His monster, taken so easily from him, and now, the shadow of Red-Eyes Darkness Dragon ominously obscures his sight. How did the boy do this? How did he steal his contract? How did he get a new card?
Worse than that, he lost to a teen? To a kid who could barely walk? A catalyst, even! A seething hatred rushes through him:
"Don't ya think I'm done with you, kiddo! You have the audacity to steal my favorite?!"
Gnawing his teeth, he summons other two monsters, then tributes them again to bring forth Frostosaurus, a dinosaur whose size contested the enemy dragon, round yellow eyes surrounded by frost, a body composed of icicles molten together, its growling producing clinks as the air hits the sharp ice forming teeth in its mouth.
The two creatures clash, the shockwave of their teeth and claws colliding sends a gust of wind, some of the glass pods breaking in the process, the dark energy around Red-Eyes oscillates like blazes, Rex can't take his eyes off the battle. It's magnificent, but he won't admit to it. Never.
His Frostosaurus is slowly receding, being overpowered. How? He can see the deep red dark energy emanating from the teenager, what in the world is that? He'd never seen such strong energy like this, plus the other things he did…
In a second, his mind draws a blank, the memories slip out of him like sand scattered in the wind. What did he do to get his monster again? He can't remember the details, but the sight of his foe makes his insides tremble, is it anxiety? Rage? Or… Fear?
"I don't know what you did, but be prepared to-"
"Rex Raptor."
The call is omnidirectional, he can't pinpoint where it comes from, then he hears it again. It's inside his head. Messing his hair with both hands, he gnarls infuriated, why does their boss have to do such creepy things? It's unpleasant having him speak inside his mind, peeking through it.
"He's mine," the multitude of voices, of many ages and genders, conveyed all together makes his brows convulse once.
The next second, Rex's eyes roll up, becoming fully white, veins popping out on his face, the voice who speaks through him is no longer his:
"Child, I am the leader of the Shadow Riders. Your powers are exceptional, what is your name?"
The whole battle freezes, Frostosaurus stops roaring and Darkness Dragon hovers still at the command of his new master. The teenager answers in a stoic voice:
"Nightshroud."
"Rather than squishing bugs without a will, roaming in this vast world without a purpose, would you lend your powers to me? For the sake of a world in which all may live in harmony, a brand new era."
"Harmony?" he questions, intrigued at the choice of words.
"A world in which humans, duel monsters and all creatures will live together. Heaven," the voices rustle the last word in relish. "But to open the gates to such worlds, we need unparalleled powers, like yours."
His lips seal shut, considering the offer. To open "gates" to other dimensions, is this the objective? For a brief moment, his gaze lands on his hands, if they're going to wrench open portals to other dimensions, it is in his best interests to partake in it, plus it will be useful to watch what those humans are up to.
"Fine. I'll accept your offer."
That recollection fades out. Now Rex is inside the chambers of his boss at the HQ, glaring at the irregular stones underneath him, knees glued to the cold floor.
"He took my damn monster! How can you let him in?! He's just a friggin' kid! He's-"
The rocky door opens at a slow, hindered motion, ruthless, parched steps entering the room, that dark cloak fluttering makes Rex's eyes become bloodshot, he stands up by instinct, his fist clenching up for a fight.
"You-! Give me back what you stole! Effin' thief!"
"If you wish to retrieve the card, capture it back with your power."
"Y-you-" he snarls, whirling around to the boss. "You can't be serious, boss! This kiddo got nothing! I bet he doesn't even know what he'll need to do by joining, he-"
"Rex. He is correct, if you want power, you grab it with your own hands," the whispers reverberated through the whole room, like a devil speaking to his ears. "We value the strong and admonish the weak. Remember that."
It all crumbled down there. Their chief is allowing that lad to stay, giving him special treatment because he can muster dark-summons? No way. His fist moves on its own, to deliver a punch straight to that mask and break it along with that presumptuous nose of his.
It takes a split second until his sight is no longer set on the teenager, but on the ceiling, his rump falling hard to the ground. He didn't even see what happened. Those unnervingly calm steps approach him, Nightshroud's shadow fans over his figure as he looks from above, is he being downsized now? By that kid?
"You're free to come and challenge me," his politeness remains, no grudges or emotions. "We'll see who will arise as a victor."
After that, he walks across Rex, coming closer to the boss, kneeling down. The dinosaur summoner stands up, in shock, his glare oscillating in wrath as he leaves the room. A newcomer outranking him? And the boss decides to be impartial just because he's a talented dark-summoner? Humiliating. This isn't over, that kid will pay for that. He'll pay bitterly.
Year 2055,
North,
The blizzard intensifies, white gusts of snow mixed with frosty wind whirl, howling on their ears. The assassin is paralyzed, sitting on the ground, the snowflakes accumulating on her bent knees and feet, her nose reddening from cold. Even now his duel energy leaks out, the dark-red flakes blending in the storm.
"You shouldn't have done this, Cleah."
Darkness stares at her form above in disapproval, she corresponds with an empty glare, as if she can't see him anymore. The muffled sound of snow compressing under his weight snaps her out of it.
"Your body-" those are the only words her lips can utter, irresponsive.
"I won't die," he grabs below her arms, lifting her up without breaking a sweat.
"Why did you not try to recover instead of coming here? Why didn't you ask me to help? Why did you just listen to the orders?"
The unusual number of questions she throws at once shows how destabilized she is, this turbulence in her is not a good sign.
"There's no need to fret over the matter."
"How will you fix it?"
"I cannot."
"You can get a new gem," she grabs him by the arms, shaking him once, her gaze latched on his face. "I've heard there's a procedure to replace it."
"Cleah," the coarse tone of his is a scolding one, taking her hands off of him. "I'm doing the best I can to hold this body together. In my current state, I can no longer tamper with memories, if I were to undergo any procedure to substitute this gem, they'd realize the essence brimming from this body, moreover it'd take time. If they were to 'extract' me, Atticus Rhodes would die without my support. There's no benefit in doing it now."
"I wouldn't let anyone-"
"There are more important matters at hand. Those gates the Shadow Riders mentioned, they'll attempt to open those soon."
A fleeting, subtle undulation happens in her eyes. The portals to other dimensions, from the information pieces she collected over the years, if her brother is alive, he should be somewhere in one of those said dimensions. That means they'll finally…
"Until then, I'll save all the energy I can," he clutches another gem from the bag she gave him before, absorbing the power stored there. "When the dimensions connect, you'll have a chance to find Yusuke Fujiwara, but there's no guarantee it'll be the dimension he was sent to, if it isn't, you'll need to start over."
There's a chance they won't find her brother. And even though the possibility of succeeding should be good news, for some reason her chest is airy. Like the freezing wind outside was blown inside her. What is this sensation?
"Darkness, what about you and Atticus Rhodes?"
"We'll survive. But if it comes to the worst, I'll make sure his body will pull through."
"What does that mean?"
"Keep a low profile, Cleah. If you want to find your brother, you must slice down the obstacles, your hesitation too. We can't miss this opportunity when the portal opens."
Purposefully interrupting her sentence, he gives his last words before turning around and leaving to the ruins where the slaves hide. That back distancing from her, overlapping with those memories of her brother, reminiscences invading her mind.
Year ?
The Fujiwara main family household: a Japanese old-styled mansion, surrounded by green fields; outside the mansion, there's a stone fountain with a bamboo toppling down a water stream making ambience sounds along with the chirping birds. The sunlight shines above the heads of the people dressed in plain kimonos and other oriental garments, a quaint settlement.
Inside that mansion, where light doesn't reach, a small girl sits on a cushion, her big glassy eyes cast to the waxed wooden floorboard. A young Yusuke sits beside her, he's not much older or taller, just a couple years older, she can't recall clearly.
Across from them, a young woman slides the framed door open, her long, beautiful green strands of hair falling over her front, almost reaching her waist, a smile blossoming on her wine red lips, a shadow over her eyes as she calls, her voice sound as if she was singing a melody:
"Cleah, come, it's time for your training."
She stretches her hand, smiling gently, the flower patterned sleeve of her kimono hanging from her arm, pure silk, a lavish style compared to all the people outside. The girl obeys her order, holding her hand as they enter, the older woman stops by the door, casting a glance over her shoulder.
"Come, Yusuke."
Although their mother smiled so kindly, there's a nasty, restless atmosphere, but she's their mother after all, the leader of the Clan, a position that her brother will inherit in the future and if she says this, then she must want to teach him something.
She guides them to a dark, eerie room, lit by the flame of candles. There's a hole on the floor in the middle of the room, and in there, a built-in open furnace whose walls are made of small and rectangular red bricks, atop it the living coal burns still, veins of red lava glimmering on it along with bright ashes.
"Cleah," the older woman squats down, to be at her eye-level. "Give me your arm."
Not questioning why, she obeys her mother, the matriarch has all the authority in the family, it's in no place for a child like her to be unruly.
"Mom?"
Yusuke's voice comes out shaky, his eyes trembling slightly as he watches their mother bring his sister close to that furnace that coughs ashes and embers into the air. The flames of the candles flickering as the smirk of their mother enlarges, a play of shadows waving on her face.
"You should watch this too, Yusuke," she says in utmost peace as if nothing she was about to do was wrong. "You'll be a leader in the future, you must witness the greatness of our advancements."
"Mom, you'll hurt her."
"There's no need to worry."
"Mom, please-"
"Pain is a flimsy notion only humans hold, you are above it, Cleah."
She continues drawing that arm close to the burning coal, slowly descending it. Yusuke's eyes wide in terror, his heartbeats knocking harder inside him as he observes, his voice soggy, tears swelling up in his eyes:
"Mom, stop-"
"Don't turn your face away, Yusuke. It will be beautiful."
Her proclamation is tyrannical, despite the graceful smile on her lips, there's no kindness in her behavior as she finishes the move, a sizzling sound following, that scene engraved into his memory forever, his horrified yell can be heard echoing outside, scaring the birds away.
The scenario changes, at the clack of the bamboo contraption of the garden fountain, Yusuke cries, cuddling himself while sitting alone, he stops sobbing after hearing light footsteps.
Cleah stands near him, her arms wrapped in bandages, one of her eyes is also covered by a medical eyepatch. She has the same inexpressive face as if no pain in the world would make it twist.
Weak. Her older brother is the future leader, but compared to her that can stand cool, all he can manage is be overflown by emotions. Do they really share the same blood?
"Don't come close!" he declares, turning his face away.
Futile. She could approach him any moment, contest his strength, show him he holds no power, but their mother said he's the next leader and that she will have to listen to his orders when he succeeds, orders are absolute.
She's a sword for the Clan and with her servitude and his leadership, they'll lead the Clan to progress together, that's why she must respect his wishes. None of this makes sense to a child her age, but that's what the adults tell her ever since she was born, that's all she has learned.
She strives to understand why her brother is so different. This hunger inside her can't be quelled, she doesn't know how to deal with it but seeks more and more knowledge so that she can empathize with what it means to be a person like him.
Plucking a small flower from the ground, she offers it as a present. It is fine for him to be weak, she'll do all the fighting anyways, he doesn't need to be tough.
"It doesn't hurt, brother."
Finally, his gaze lands on her again, trembling as he stands up, melting into tears and shouting even stronger as he slaps her hand away:
"I told you to stay away from me!"
Dashing out of the ambience, he leaves her alone. Once more, she cannot fathom her sibling, whether she speaks to him or not, his orbs are always filled with dread. He shouldn't be afraid, she would never hurt him, it's against the laws, but why does he reject her presence? Why does he loathe her so much?
Lowering her head disappointed at the failed attempt of communication, she lets go of that flower she's been holding.
I don't get it, brother.
Year 2052, winter
Northern lands
Agonizing yells echo amidst the rain of bullets, the sound of gatling guns whirring, roars of monsters merge into the chaos. Some summoners in black mantles bring forth the most exquisite creatures.
Red-Eyes Black Dragon shrills hovering in the skies, breathing flames at the enemies. Nightshroud heads towards the turmoil, his steps ceasing, cinders and fluttering in the air, his surroundings become a maze of flames, his cloak whips the air at the aftershock of the dragon landing behind him.
"We-" the communicator attached to his belt buzzes. "We've got a problem!"
In the middle of the battle, as a summoner of the Shadow Riders prepares to call another monster, a person flashes behind them, as they flinch, there's no time to react, their back slit open as blood gushes out, when they topple onward, the last blow is dealt to their throat, their monsters becoming nothing but soot, disappearing at the will of the wind.
The second summoner doesn't have a different fate, as he's distracted by the fallen companion who died before anyone could see, the assassin catches up to him too, cutting his throat, bleeding him dry as the snow is soaked in crimson red. The shadow of death that passes by, taking them down, making its way across to Nightshroud.
So he's the target? He walks unfazed, sending off Red-Eyes that cleanses the land through its flames. Under his mask, he looks around, until a presence blinks behind him, unlike all the other ranks, he instinctively swirls back, slamming away the arm of the attacker.
They land on the ground firmly, their feet barely sinking into the snow, a light weight. He gets a good look at them, from tip to toe: a girl in her teens, a bit younger than his vessel, slim built, quick movements, well trained reflexes, good muscles. Her body is clad in black, her orbs gazing into him as if the outer space itself abided there.
Before any word is pronounced, a subordinate shoots from the side, the bullets fully hitting her arm, in the next second, she disappears, but a trail of blood is left, he can follow it to the side. Other men also notice it, starting a chase, summoners send their monster her way, the pine trees she used as cover fall down fast.
Surrounded by the monsters, in a blink of an eye, she disappears again, all those men who looked like they could bully her suddenly start falling down, one after another. Then, from the side, a Curse of the Dragon chomps on her torso taking flight and shaking her off its mouth, her fall softened by the mounds of snow.
Men gather around, convinced she's dead, but again, like a zombie she rises, the wounds on her body covered in blood, hers and her enemies', yet she doesn't show signs of pain, her hollow eyes making them shiver in fear.
"I-Ieek!"
Turning around, the men run off, without a second delay, she darts, but her movement is restricted by an elastic dark substance, coming around her, bouncing her back into the air, the matter spikes out of the ground forming a sharp translucent dark pillar with white veins like a jewel, raising and wrapping around her body, sticking to her skin, constraining her movements.
"Shoot h-" the soldier ordering her death is interrupted by an uncanny wave of power, his body unable to move.
Nightshroud commands. "Stand still."
Red-Eyes flies above, spitting dark flames that make a circle around him and the captured assassin, hovering and guarding the skies. The girl struggles to move, grumbling while straining her muscles.
"Are you here for my head?"
Her eyes land on him briefly, averting to the side, with stark strength, she breaks an arm free, unsheathing a dagger strapped to her waist. Stabbing the substance swallowing her other arm, she pierces it repeatedly until it reaches her skin, holes opening into her own other arm as she bludgeons it.
"Stop," the word alone makes her whole body shudder, bewitched by a mysterious energy that hampers her movements. "Who are you, child?"
"I am no child," her voice is softer than expected, matching her age, but unnaturally frivolous.
"Why do you trample on others, making enmity with them? Were you ordered to?"
"I have no orders to kill, but I will if they stand in my way."
"You way? And what do you intend to achieve?"
She silences, her glare cast at him, that kid who has been unbothered had a fierce, determined glint in the depths of her eyes now.
"I am the blade that slices through all. Those who are an obstacle to my goal must be eliminated."
His lips curve down slightly, she fearlessly stares at him as the tall young man stands a few steps in front of her, measuring him. Her lips split apart at a realization, this sentiment of familiarity to the power pouring out of him, this man isn't a normal person.
"You and I are similar…"
"Indeed, we are," he nods once. "But we're not the same. Do you know what you are?"
Her eyes remain frozen on him. "I'm… a monster."
He can't help but gasp at the statement. Does she not know her origins? The source of her powers? Perplexing.
"Who told you that?"
"All humans perish, but I can't. I'm not human. I am a blade, a monster crafted to kill."
This kid… Who's been telling this to her? Whoever taught her that wanted to instill this image, carve it on her, of an implacable killer. And they'd convince her so much she can't grasp the truth, as if she's under the spell of those humans. She's like a lifeless porcelain doll, if he cracked her open here and now, her insides would be filled in nothingness. Distasteful.
"Is that so?" he comes a step closer, looking up at her, despite the difference in height, he didn't look intimidated or belittled. "And what would a 'monster' be doing here?"
With a sway of his hand, the pillar of dark matter binding her shatters, vanishing as she falls standing with a dull, soft thud.
"You may be under a different name now, but I know who you are," she claims defiantly, walking until she's face-to face with him, her eyes lidding haughtily.
It was almost possible to see the frown under his mask. She cares not who he is or what, that much he can tell from her attitude.
"And what is your name?"
"Cleah Fujiwara."
A turmoil arises within him as he sighs deeply. The name rings a bell, Fujiwara. They're a vainglorious Clan of humans who'd think they can tame the Ancients, coveting his soul, such abhorring creatures, waddling in waters whose currents they cannot control.
They once summoned him to this realm, thinking they could bind him to a human body, he warned them accordingly. As for the human whom they used to channel him, the leader of the Clan himself, his body rot, unable to contain as a receptacle, a fruit of their own mistakes.
Such arrogant beings they are, not comprehending why only a few selected ones can be blessed with the powers of an Ancient, that not every human is able to withstand their essence, pretending they can break the rules of nature, he spurns their efforts. He'd think they learned their lesson last time, but seeing this girl in front of him proves his reprimands were wasted.
"Fujiwara," he trails off momentarily. "Did your Clan send you here to catch me?"
"This has nothing to do with the family. I'm on my own."
"Then why do you wish to meet him?"
"I have business with you, Atticus Rhodes."
There's a long silence as the flames crackle in the background, a breeze blowing past. She is unaware of his true identity. As if impatient with his quietness, she continues:
"I'm searching for my brother. And all trails lead me here, to you, Atticus Rhodes. You know Yusuke Fujiwara, don't you? You've met him. I know it, I've looked into your past, every piece of information I could. You were the last one to see my brother, you must know what happened to him, how he disappeared, where he is."
"Impressive work, for a kid. All the registers of this body past a certain point should have been erased and you still found his whereabouts based on a single connection. To think such a young child would follow someone all the way to the ends of these wastelands… Commendable."
"This body…?" she mutters bemused.
"Cleah Fujiwara, lamentably, I am not the Atticus Rhodes you search for. The one you seek sleeps profoundly, he is but a vessel to me."
"Vessel?" her hand yanks him by the collar with one hand, her dagger on the other, the tip of the blade grazing on his neck. "What do you mean?"
"My name is Darkness. I am… The 'monster' inhabiting his body. The man you wish to see is no longer awake."
As soon as speaks, a wild, evil aura lashes out of him, forming a distorted, inhumane face, its teeth sharp teeth made of pure darkness, gleaming-red eyes, she slides her feet back in reaction, momentarily stunned, then steps ahead again, demanding with a furrow of brows:
"I don't care who you are! Wake him up! I need to speak to Atticus Rhodes!"
"I cannot."
The refusal spurs a new emotion, lit from inside, a burning rage, she directs her blade towards him, but he grabs her wrist, easily avoiding it, hurling her to the side, as she raises her arm to deliver another hit, the elastic substance form before stretches from the ground again, sealing her movement.
"Wake him-" she grits her teeth, pulling the elastic string with all her might to break free.
"It's useless to resort to violence. He won't wake up from his slumber in his current condition."
His unchanging tone was proof he wasn't lying or tricking her, for once, an honest person. Or can she even consider him a person? No, even if he isn't, that's all more reason to believe in him instead of trusting the sly humans.
"You can't bring him back now?" her shoulders slump, crestfallen, her hand shaking while clutching the grip of her dagger.
"That is the truth."
"What a waste of time," her head lowers, her green bangs covering her semblance. "If you do not wish to tell me the truth, I'll take it from you!"
Lifting her head, she lightly punches his ribs, power courses from her hand through him, paralyzing his whole structure, akin to what he did to her earlier. She isn't as hopeless as he thought.
In a sound-speed move, she grabs and tosses his mask away, revealing his piercing red eyes, a slight twitch on her brows, the height difference is still too big for her to look at him equally. She slams her hand down, his front bending onward as if a gravitational force tugged at him, her instincts screams inside there's something off, it's as if he's not even trying to resist the flow. Nonetheless, she will rob all the answers from him.
As she gazes into his eyes, dwelling into it, a tunnel of thin, bent metal plates forms around her vision, she attempts to barge into his mind, at the end of the path, she sees a gate of light, but the gate towards his memory shatters before she arrives.
A world of darkness overwhelms her vicinity, trapping her, she flinches awake, stumbling a step back, almost skidding on the snow, was she repelled by him?
"I will not allow you to desecrate his mind further," his decree comes out in a harsh voice. "I've told you, your pleas cannot reach him now."
"Why do you hide his memories? You're not even human, why do you care? If he lives or dies, that's none of your concern!"
"Is that what you truly believe?" he shakes off his head, reproving her actions, startling her. "I disagree. You're wrong on many levels, the weight of a life is unmeasurable. To the hand who offered me shelter, I will not bite it off nor harm him by any means," the decisiveness in his speech is amusing to her. "You speak of humans as if you're above, calling yourself a monster, yet you seek for someone who's been long gone from your life. I know no monster who'd do that," she can almost hear him scoff. "Isn't it a human thing to do?"
Her eyes widen, transfixed on him, entranced by his wisdom, his silhouette suddenly looked larger, menacing, a creep crawling her spine, something inside her warning that for a being like him, perhaps she too was as insignificant as an ant. Contesting her powers was no challenge.
"I am unable to wake him as it currently stands. However, I am pursuing ways to do so. If you do wish to ask him personally about your brother, you may come and help me succeed, once he awakens, I guarantee he'll be all yours."
"Awaken him…? There's a way to do it?"
That possibility ensnares her, her orbs following each of his movements as he picks his mask, wearing it over again.
"Yes. I don't have all the answers you wish to hear, but I can share whatever bit I know of, if you're willing to follow me and listen," he imposes a condition. "If we're able to send me back to my origins, then Atticus Rhodes will wake up, and once he's awake, you can ask him yourself. Thus, it is of interest to both of us that I conclude this step."
The circle of dark flames separating them from the rest of the battlefield disappears, runts from the Shadow Riders block the escape routes. She glances around, trying to find an opening, he stands in front of her, barricading the aim of his troop.
"Think about it, once you have an answer, come to me, Cleah. I'll tell you the truth behind your powers."
The last phrase struck her with awe, as if he'd calculated which words would pull her strings, unknowingly to her how cunning and manipulative of a creature he could be. However, he's right, the reason why she left the Clan was to search for her brother because they wouldn't do anything.
Red-Eyes Black Dragon lands behind its new master causing a short earthquake that dismantles the formation of the soldiers, without being noticed, she escapes. That was their first encounter, but it didn't end there.
A month after, in the West…
Nightshroud hears the clattering of gun capsules hitting the floor, his hand sliding the zipper down to open the tent, the night sky can't occult the red soil of those dried lands, the lamps marking the perimeters all crashed to the ground, leftover blazes extinguishing slowly as the oil is absorbed by the earth.
A group of lowly subordinates surrounds someone, shooting at then, it takes him no longer than a second to recognize that person. Cleah dances through the group, cutting them down as if that's no more than training, the blood splatters on her silhouette, bathing her and the floor, he comes closer when the last man is taken down.
"You've come."
"You said," she starts, lifting her empty eyes. "That you could tell me about what I am, my powers and… That if Atticus Rhodes awakes, I can find clues about my brother's whereabouts."
"I'll keep my word. Have you made your decision yet?"
"If there's any opportunity I will seize it, no matter how small of a chance it is. That's my decision."
A march of footsteps come around them, more of the Shadow Riders members, trying to capture her.
"Very well."
He lifts his hand, a ball of darkness emanating multidirectional streams that connect to the heads of the soldiers, they scream in an unbearable pain, falling to the ground, her eyes curiously checking the surroundings, wondering what happened.
Just as he predicted, she came, at last, even though what he told her was partially a lie as he knows well what happened to her brother. A wretched one she is, shaped by the greed of humans, forced into a fake emptiness, made as a tool for their own merit, convinced this is all she is. Now she rebels against those wicked schemes.
He pities her, but more than that, he will teach her that this is her chance to break free from those amalgams of distorted desires of humans, to be a person of her own and not a being shaped by anyone else. He'll teach her how to live by her own choices.
This is his punishment to those unsightly Fujiwaras who obsess over maintaining their fragile notions of power. A lesson that they do not own the rights to control Ancients or even attempt to use them. For that, he has to keep an eye on Cleah. He will not allow humanity to use their powers as they please, those scornful, primal beings who can't even dip the surface of mysteries all over the universe or comprehend Ancients.
Admittedly, a part of him is eager to witness what will become of her and which path she will choose once she's confronted with reality. Maybe Atticus Rhodes' burbling emotions have rubbed on him.
From one of the tents, a raspy, annoyed voice soars. "Why are y'all making a ruckus?!"
The brown-haired man yawns, scratching his knitted hat, raising a brow at the scene, the small figure of the assassin drenched in blood and of Nightsroud who stands idly in front of her.
"What the heck?!"
"This is my apprentice," the teen turns around, declaring in a leveled tone.
"Hey, I heard nothing of-"
He points his index finger at the other, gritting his teeth, ready for the quarrel, then, as if a thunder landed in his mind, again he has this vexing sensation he cannot remember what was the argument he had against Nightshroud. That girl… Has she always been here with them?
In the time he tries to figure out what's going on, the other soldiers who fainted awake and stand up again, puzzled. They can see a bunch of dead men on the ground, but something about it is very strange, they have no recollection of how it happened.
"A group of thieves assaulted our camp," Nightshroud says loud enough to be heard by all. "My apprentice and I could fend them off, but he'd done a lot of damage already. We may bury the bodies of our companions."
"What?! You can't order me around! You-"
Rex stomps his way to the teenager, a shadow flashing between them, the young girl, a pointy blade aimed at the vital spot on his neck, he gulps worriedly, frowning at her. Her impassive gaze only irritates him more, he can see a bit of Nightshroud in her.
Cleah doesn't mind the confused stares. If it leads her to her brother, she will do anything, even pretending to be the underling of this person.
Year 2055,
North
Ever since they first met, Darkness introduced himself as one who knew the universal truth, she believed his knowledge, she trusted it and she wasn't all wrong, what she'd learn from him wouldn't be possible had she followed others.
The image of that reliable person who'd for years aid in the search of her brother now tears apart. He's holding Atticus' body together at the cost of his own essence? Why would he release that body rather than taking it for himself fully? If it was her, she would do it. She'd kill anyone for her own good.
His memories are no longer required, Darkness sifted through it and found the most important parts. They already know what happened to Yusuke, they just need to find which dimension he was sent to and open a gap to it, right? But… There has to be a way to stabilize his body without sacrificing him, so both of them can remain.
No, what is she even thinking? Indulging Nightshroud's wishes isn't important, if it's true she can see Yusuke, then, there's no need to wait for Darkness or Atticus anymore, is there? She has no obligations to honor her part in the deal as long as she gets her own fill. There's no need to stay beside them if she knows where the portal to another dimension will be opened.
Even though this is her conclusion, why won't her legs move? The snow weights on her feet, swaddling it there. This upsetting pace of her heartbeats as if her chest would burst open. Hesitation?
Biting her nails off, she ponders. Why is Nightshroud being cryptic about his state? Is he trying to lure her into doing something again? Did he tell her about the portal to test her next moves? Will he really survive if left alone? What if he doesn't? No, this cannot be. She can't allow that, there's much she has to ask and learn from him still, if he disappears now… It'll be just like her brother.
Her veins are scorched from inside, this blistering feeling coursing through her insides. She doesn't want that moment in time in which her brother vanishes to repeat, she can't let it, or else this heart beating inside her feels like it will be blown into smithereens.
As those thoughts drift into her mind, she mingles with the blandness of the snowfields, unseen to all the others, keeping to her shadows.