The afternoon sun shone through the window of Kurama's office, adding some light to a shadowy room. Kurama was sitting at his desk with his eyes closed. He had just gotten off the phone with Kisaragi's family, whom he had called to notify them of her death. It was a difficult conversation, (hellacious, really,) and it had left him with a terrible headache. Now, he'd just taken two aspirin, and was waiting for the effects to kick in. Things were getting worse and worse for him as the days went by. Alma had escaped with another monstrosity, his secretary was dead, and now Nana had been sent out on the front lines. The news about Armacham hadn't cleared anything up for him. As far as he knew, it only added a whole new layer of head-pounding questions. Psychokinesis? Human experimentation? His skin crawled just thinking about it.
It had been easy for him to deal with Diclonius, to accept that there was such things as pink haired humanoids with horns and invisible arms. Sure, it had taken him sometime to cope after his family's...incident, but by the time he'd gotten to where he was now, he'd come to terms with what true monsters were. But now, with a psychic ghost like Alma threatening his life, he felt like he no longer knew anything. This was all so...so…
"Paranormal," he muttered under his breath. His headache wasn't going away quick enough. His ringing phone snapped him from his thoughts. He pressed the speaker button.
"Yes?"
"Sir," said Shirakawa, "We have an update on Nana's status."
Better and better.
The debris from the broken headstones hadn't even finished crumbling before Alma struck once more. Nana picked herself up from the ground, or started to, before Alma appeared behind her, grabbed her by the arm, and flung her into the side of a mausoleum. Nana heard a crack, and wondered whether she'd broken the crypt, or the other way around. She fell to the ground in the heap, looking up to see Alma in front of her, her withered form that seemed almost nonchalant. Nana did her best to put up a brave face, but if she was being honest, she was absolutely terrified. There was something horribly wrong with this woman. She didn't even look like she should be alive. How could someone be so thin? Nana took a brief moment to compose herself, gripping her hand over her wrist to try and stop the blood gushing from her wrist. Somehow, it hurt less than she thought. A dull ache instead of searing pain. It was probably the adrenaline. Alma took a step toward her, and the Diclonius spoke on impulse.
"Wait!" she yelled, and to her surprise, the phantom actually stopped, though the dark glare didn't leave her face.
"Pl-please," she said, "I need to bring her back."
She'll never go back.
Nana flinched in surprise. She had been told that Alma could speak directly into her head, but hearing a voice go through your mind rather than your ears is something that no one can truly prepare themselves. It felt eerie to Nana and somehow invasive. If her own head could be raided like a home invasion, then what was safe from this woman. Still, she had to try. For Papa.
"I-I have to," she said, "They won't take me back unless I bring her."
Alma's head tilted slightly to the side. You want to go back?
"My Papa is there!" declared Nana, "I can tell that you care for her. She's your friend, isn't she?"
She saw how Alma's eyes narrowed, and knew she'd guessed right. "I know you want to do what's best for her, but if you let her come with me, then she can be safe!"
It was a moment before Alma responded. Under normal circumstances, she would have burned this girl off the face of the earth for her audacity, but this was a Diclonius, and she knew Lucy wouldn't want her to kill any of her own kind. And yet, this one stood for everything that they had spent their lives avoiding.
You're better free. Leave or die.
Nana grimaced. The pain of her severed stump had spiked, and yet she still stood firm. She knew that she wasn't supposed to engage, only scout, but she wouldn't stand down. She'd make her Papa proud. "I promised Papa I wouldn't kill either of you, but I'll still teach you a lesson. For him!"
As she spoke, she compelled her vectors forward, catching Alma off guard as the invisible arms slammed into her. Surprise replaced the usual cool contempt on Alma's face, and though it was not enough to beat Nana's record, she was knocked back quite a bit.
Nana began moving forward, but a sudden flash of lightheadedness made her fall to one knee. The blood from her severed wrist was continuing to pump blood everywhere, and she was already finding difficulty standing. She focused, and used her vectors to keep herself upright, like having several invisible legs. Focusing on the target before her, who seemed not the least bit unfazed at having been knocked back, Nana let loose with some of her vectors. She knew that Alma couldn't see them, yet the moment they met their target, the phantom exploded into ash, Nana threw up her arms to block the soot from her eyes.
You like being their captive?
Nana's hands moved from her eyes, and clasped the sides of her pounding head. The words penetrated through her skull.
You like being their lab rat?
Nana tried opening her eyes, but they stung. It seemed some of that ash had gotten in. The tears would not stop flowing.
You have love for a father who lets you be tormented?
Screaming, Nana flailed her vectors around, hoping to make the voice stop. The noise, the pain, make it all go away!
Have it your way.
And like that the pain stopped, not just in her head, but in her severed limb, as well. Nana, suddenly able to open her eyes, attempted to look around, only to be blinded by the glare of a light. At first, she thought it was the sun, but as her eyes adjusted, she realised that she was looking at a ceiling light. She...was indoors?
"Excellent. Subject has regained consciousness. We may proceed."
Looking around, Nana began to feel a very familiar sense of dread weighing down on her. She was back at the Institute, strapped to the operating table. A man was standing before her, his face was covered with a surgical mask, and he had a bonesaw in his hand.
"Test run 24, determining Diclonius ability to feel phantom pains, and substitute their own vectors as limbs. Subject is one young Diclonius, twelve years of age, with accelerated growth alike to a girl in her late teens. In a moment, I will begin, and amputate each of the subject's limbsl."
She was going to be experimented on, again. They were going to cut her open, again. But she could take it. She had before, and she would again. For him.
"I know you'll do your best for me, Nana."
Nana looked up at the surgeon, whose voice had suddenly changed. Her eyes widened as she recognized the sound, and when he removed his operating mask to show her his face, she recognized that, too.
"You'll let me know if this hurts, won't you?"
"P-Papa?"
BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT!
"PAAPAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
A bright, sunny noon brought on a fairly heavy crowd in Kamakura' downtown mall. Families, friends, and strangers all mingled about, eating at restaurants, window shopping, and just shooting the breeze. Everyone was caught up in their own activities, so no one gave a second glance to the lone girl with a tiny dog on a leash. Any panic that Mayu had regarding Wanta's false alarm this morning had all but subsided, but every now and then, she shot a nervous glance at the knot that tied up Wanta's severed leash, which she was gripping s a bit tighter than usual. Wanta himself seemed a bit more quiet than usual, and as she watched her tiny four-legged friend sniff around for a corner to pee in, one question would not let up in her mind:
What had happened to Wanta?
She wanted to believe that Wanta had simply chewed through his leash, but it had been a clean cut, not the sort of thing that could be done by chewing. (Especially with Wanta's tiny little teeth.) So, someone had come along and cut off Wanta's leash. Maybe some animal rights activist who had taken exception to seeing a dog bound by a leash. (Even though Wanta had never objected. He never even ran from her when she came to clip the leash onto his collar.) But why do it on private property? Was someone else living at that big house? There certainly seemed to be enough room for more than that couple she'd met. It would be nice to live somewhere lik-
"Woof! Woof!"
"Mayu! Wanta! It's good to see you both!"
It had seemed that despite her distractions, Wanta had been able to pull them both in the right direction, and now here they were at the downtown Bakery, with the baker, a kindly old woman with a warm smile, was standing with a bag in her hands. Mayu quickly composed herself and smiled in return.
"Good afternoon, ma'am," said Mayu to the baker.
"I have it ready for you," said the baker to Mayu, and handed her the plastic bag filled with leftover bread crusts. It was a fairly easy arrangement, that had started when the baker had taken an affection to Wanta, and fed him a few spare crusts. Whereas most people preferred having their bread crust removed, the little dog was not so picky, and had gobbled up the bread before it had even touched the tiled floor. The girl, (who, now that the baker thought of it, had been watching the crust with an expression similar to the hungry dog's,) had asked if there were any more scraps for her dog, and the baker said that if she came back every now and then, she'd be sure to provide enough crust to keep the little fellow content and stuffed.
And so Mayu had come back again. And again. And again. The baker however did not mind. She liked the shy, kind girl and her little four-legged friend, and as she always believed: Waste not, want not.
She smiled as she watched Mayu take the bag. Wanta immediately began to whimper hungrily as his owner took the bag, but as soon as Mayu fished out a few pieces, the whimpering stopped, only to be replaced with loud smacking sounds as Wanta gobbled up his latest afternoon snack.
"My, what a gluttonous dog," said the baker. She looked at Mayu, and maybe it was because of the weird day she'd been having, but Mayu could've sworn there was something...knowing (though not unfriendly,) in the baker's smile.
"He eats all this bread by himself?" she asked, and Mayu looked down at her dog so as to break eye contact.
"Well, um," stammered Mayu before raising her shoulders in a shrug, "You know how dogs are."
Regarding Mayu, the baker's smile folded into a frown as she thought of something.
"Mayu, how old are you?"
Mayu was caught off guard by this question, but only for a moment.
"I'm thirteen," she said to the baker, "But I'll be fourteen tomorrow."
"Oh!" replied the baker as her smile returned, "Tomorrow is your birthday?"
It was a question that held nothing more than friendly intent, yet Mayu didn't seem comfortable.
"It...It is," she said, "I have to go now. Thank you for the bread."
Bowing politely, Mayu turned and, with leash in one hand and a bread bag in the other, headed out of the bakery and back into the sunny outdoor crowd. She was eager to head back to her dwelling. So eager, in fact, that she didn't even notice that she'd passed Yuka until the older girl called out to her. Indeed, it took a moment for Yuka to recognize her.
"Oh?" she said as she looked up from her thoughts to see a girl with a familiar dog, "Wait, aren't you…"
Mayu stopped, turning to see who'd spoken to her, and as she did, Yuka got a good look at the bag of crusts in the younger girls hands. Tracking Yuka's gaze, Mayu quickly hid the bag behind her back.
"Okay, er...See you later," she blurted before walking off in a hurry with Wanta, leaving Yuka to ponder what she'd seen. Mayu walked hurriedly, blending into the crowd around her. It wasn't easy to admit to others that she no longer had a home to go to. Honestly, it wasn't that she was ashamed to be out on the streets. The problem was that when people saw a young teenage girl living by herself, the first question that popped into their minds was where her parents were, and that would always bring up memories, and-
NO!
She stopped in her tracks, clamped her eyes shut, and squeezed the bag of bread she was holding with enough force to turn her dainty knuckles white. She wouldn't go back there, to a mom who didn't care for her, and a stepfather who was worse.
"Nyu?"
Mayu opened her eyes to see that she was standing on the stairway beside the Jouju-in Cemetery, and noticed that a familiar pink-haired girl was standing a few flights below her, dressed in an odd outfit, and giving her an odd look. Mayu recognized her instantly.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, "It's you, the girl from Maple House, right?"
"Nyu!" replied the girl. She looked down at Wanta with wide eyes. Mayu herself felt uncertain of how to act. On the one hand this girl seemed pretty harmless. On the other hand, she was about ninety percent sure that this girl, Nyu, was mentally impaired, and she honestly wasn't sure what to do in a situation like this. While she was thinking, Wanta let out a loud bark, and Nyu, who had been ogling her four legged friend, walked up to the dog, slowly bent down, and picked up Wanta with both hands.
"Woof! Woof!"
The tiny dog squirmed about in Nyu's hands, but otherwise didn't seem to object all that much to being held. Mayu however began to silently panic. She was pretty sure that Nyu wasn't the sort of person who'd drop or throw a defenseless little doggy...but she wasn't entirely sure, either.
"Hey," she said, and Nyu looked up from Wanta and toward his owner, "Um, could you please put my dog down. We...we should probably take you home."
Yes. As she said it, she knew that this was the best course of action. One look at this girl made it apparent that she wasn't meant to be out by herself, and luckily Mayu remembered the way back to that big house! It wasn't all that far from where they were by the cemetery.
"Um, would you mind putting my dog down?"
Nyu looked up from Wanta, and gently set the tiny dog down.
"We need to get you home," said Mayu. She thought of the name etched on the umbrella and remembered that the place was called Maple House. "You live at Maple House, correct?"
That seemed to elicit a positive response from Nyu, who seemed to bounce with enthusiasm at the words. "Nyu! Nyuuu!"
"Your friends Kouta and Yuka live there, right?"
"Nyu!"
"Okay. Let's go then!"
"NYUUU!"
Having broadcasted her joyous cry, the pink haired girl with a questionable wardrobe rushed forth, down the steps, onward to her goal…
...Which, Mayu realized a second later, might not involve going back to Maple House. "H-Hey! Wait up!"
She started after Nyu on a journey that might have just taken her halfway across the city, but the grand chase was abruptly cut short as a piercing scream cut through the hot afternoon air. Mayu stopped so suddenly, that she very nearly lost her balance on the stairs. She turned toward the direction of the screams, which had yet to cease, and surmised that they were coming from the cemetery, the entrance of which were up the steps. She turned to tell Nyu to wait, but saw that the strange girl was already nearly at the bottom of the stairs, and didn't seem to be slowing down in her mad dash to "Maple House." She either hadn't heard the screams, or hadn't cared.
Time seemed to slow down as Mayu's mind raced faster than Nyu's footsteps. By now, Mayu knew enough about the girl that telling Nyu to slow down would be as pointless as watering a plant with saw dust, so if she wanted to keep an eye on her, than her only choice would be to run after her, but the screaming wasn't dying down, and Mayu sensed that she might be leaving someone in danger.
Like she nearly did with that man on the beach…
Thinking about that wounded soldier helped decide Mayu's decision. She turned on her heel and headed back up the stairs with Wanta in tow. Hopefully Nyu would make it home on her own accord, but for know, someone needed help. She headed up the stairs with Wanta trailing dutifully behind her, only to be stopped by a sudden tug on her leash. Mayu looked down to see that Wanta had come to an abrupt stop. His tail was tucked between his legs, and he was whimpering loudly.
"Wanta, come on," urged Mayu. She tugged Wanta's leash, but the little dog wouldn't move. This was the most terrified she'd ever seen the dog, but before she could consider his behavior further, A fresh scream came from the cemetery.
"Not now, Wanta!" protested Mayu. She picked Wanta up and jogged the rest of the way into the cemetery. She had never been to this place before, (too creepy,) but she was quite sure a cemetery wasn't meant to be this messed up. Broken headstones and rubble were strewn about everywhere, as if a tornado had wrecked through here. Mayu jogged through the debris toward the source of the noise, all while struggling to keep a firm grip on Wanta, who wouldn't stop squirming and yelping in her arms. As the screams got louder, Mayu rounded the corner, eager to once more be the good Samaritan providing aid to someone in need, but stopped cold in her tracks at the trauma before her. She felt a scream die in her throat.
The first thing that registered in her mind was all the blood. She'd never seen this much gore, not even with Bando. It glistened sickeningly under the bright sun, and the coppery stench nearly made the young girl gag.
Then Mayu noticed the body. Or what was left of it.
The figure's arms and legs had been completely torn off, leaving a bloodied torso and head that wasn't moving. The face looked pale from blood loss, which was a stark contrast to the deep shade of red blood that had pooled around her. As Mayu inched closer, the figure, who Mayu noticed was another pink-haired girl, began to stir, and Mayu, paused, unsure of how to act. There were a bit too many bleeding stumps to tie off this time. Maybe she could try-
"...Papa…please..."
The girl's words made Mayu pause in her panicked thoughts.
"Did...Did you say something?"
"...No more, Papa…...been a good girl…"
Mayu wasn't sure what to say to this, but then Alma suddenly showed, and in that instance, Mayu's speech went out the window.
At first, there didn't seem anything off about the young girl in a red dress, but then those pallid yellow eyes looked into Mayu's frightened ones, and Mayu felt her throat dry up. Wanta was struggling madly at this point, as a familiar array of smells bombarded his tiny nostrils. He kicked and howled, forcing Mayu to drop him. Before she could even register what she'd done, she felt a powerful force push her, and suddenly, she was weightless. Floating, flying, soaring through the air, over the stairs she's previously ascended and into the trees. Branches whipped through her face and hair, before she felt a massive force slam against her body, and promptly lost consciousness.
Alma's gaze lingered briefly on the dog as it fled after it's master that she'd banished. When the tiny animal turned the corner toward the stairs, she turned her attention back toward Nana, who was faintly stirring on the ground. Alma, still in her child form, let out a playful little giggle as she leaped forward, her bare feet splashing into Nana's blood. She skipped around a few more times, enjoying herself in a manner as carefree as a kid playing in the rain.
"...Papa…"
Alma paused in her splashing, and turned towards Nana, who was looking awfully pale. She walked slowly up to the Diclonius, her feet making soft splup sounds as she walked through all the blood.
Still think Papa loves you?
Nana let out a pain whimper, and Alma took a grim pleasure in sensing the pain from her mind.
I once thought my Papa loved me. But he still let them cut me open.
"Please…" whimpered Nana. glazed eyes looked up into the cloudless sky, "No more…no...Papa…"
PAPA DOESN'T LOVE YOU!
Alma reverted to her hag form in an instant, and she slammed her hands down on the ground on either side of Nana's head. Blood splashed up from the ground, splattering Nana's face with it. She winced, then squeezed her eyes shut and began to whimper as Alma leaned her face down above Nana's, her hair falling above Nana's head like a thick black curtain of despair.
YOUR FATHER SENT YOU TO DIE-
Alma's thoughts were cut abruptly short as she sensed something. She looked up from Nana's bleeding torso, and promptly vanished.
When Kurama had received news of Nana's abrupt message, he had rightly assumed the worse. An army of SAT soldiers, (excluding a still healing and foul tempered Bando,) had been on standby for when Lucy and Alma would be located. They were equipped with the latest weaponry, and body armor specially made to be flame-retardant. On his command, the chopper was once again dispatched toward the beaches, following the signal from the tiny tracking device embedded in Nana's clothes. The signal had cut off by Jouju-in Cemetery, so that's where the reconnaissance team was sent. Once more did the helicopter land on the beach, with soldiers spilling out the back and charging up the white dunes. At upon reaching the shores, they banked a right, marching up the flight of stairs with a duty-driven fervor. (Had they gone left, they might have just caught the retreating form of one of their primary targets heading back to her home, but alas,) Once the area had been breached it wasn't difficult to pinpoint the target, especially with all the noise. A sniper team was set up within thirty seconds, and now these men, trained professionals who weren't so easily fazed by the unnatural, were clear to engage. They covertly circled the area, establishing a perimeter as well as tactical positions.
The sniper got down on the ground, chambered a fresh round into his rifle, and peered through the scope. Through the lens, he could spot one of the targets down on the ground beside the asset. The soldier, who couldn't begin to comprehend the dark power of the phantom before him, focused his sights, drew in a deep breath, and was promptly roasted to death in front of his comrades.
The fireproof armor didn't make a lick of difference.
Though ghastly, this was not an unexpected move from the target. It was time to engage. Soldiers scrambled forth from their cover, weapons hot. Melting, even, as all the soldiers from the initial wave were burned alive, Steaming blood leaked through their body armor like water through cracks, and within a moment, nothing more remained of the dozen assault members than some body armor, charred bones, and puddles of hot steaming goo that had once been flesh, blood, and man. Amazingly, even this event hadn't been unexpected. A second assault team was already prepped for action, ready to strike from a slightly longer range, when an order from Command told them all to stand down. What did shock the soldiers was what Command said next: "I'm going in their alone and unarmed. I want to talk to Alma."
"ALMA!"
Alma turned toward the direction of the voice, ready to attack, but stopped as she sensed whos mind it was. A thin smirk appeared on her haggard face as Kurama strode up. He did not give the melted puddles that were once his soldiers so much as a glance as he walked past them, but Alma could sense how much of a toll this whole ordeal had been for the man. There was nothing he could hide from her.
Kurama stopped in front of Alma, with Nana's limp torso between them. For a moment, he stared at the phantom. Then he spoke.
"I won't pretend that you didn't surprise me at the lab, Alma. I thought I'd seen it all when I began working with Diclonius. I believed that I'd come face to face with the greatest threat that this world has to offer: Monsters with invisible claws, capable of wiping out mankind by turning their own sperm cells against them. By having us create their species for them."
He looked down at Nana for a moment, and Alma could feel the worry gnawing at him, before he continued speaking.
"Then there's you: Alma Wade. A psychokinetic phantom capable of burning people alive, and playing with their thoughts and feelings for amusement. I can only imagine what Armacham did to make something like you, but I know that the world already has enough monsters that it doesn't need to go on making more. Then again, not everyone sees you as a monster, like Lucy. She's why you came here."
Alma was giving Kurama a very hard stare. It made the assistant director feel like she was wondering how he'd taste. He pressed on, nonetheless.
"You probably met her after you ran away from that orphanage. She probably stuck around with you, made you feel like you weren't something unnatural, and even helped you clean up the bodies. Burnt ash is easier to dispose of. But I suppose you find melted goo more satisfying. But I digress. Lucy, she mentioned you shortly after we grabbed her. At the time, I didn't understand what she meant when she said you were special like her. And even now, I still don't. But I know that you care for her, and that you're holding back now because of her."
Bony fingers tightened into knobbly fists at that remark. Kurama might have actually smiled at that if Nana wasn't dying in front of him.
"That's the problem with monsters, Alma. They're only scary when you know nothing about them. You pick them apart to uncover their secrets, and they're no longer scary once you have their number."
He abruptly swung his arm, intent on striking Alma across the face, but as his hand connected with her, he felt his mind begin to unravel, as rapid visions and voices flashed through his mind.
A man and woman arguing while an infant cried in her crib.
A stressed child with various electrodes wired to her head levitating a wooden block without touching it.
A little girl sobbing in a dog crate.
Two girls sitting across from one another in a cafeteria, shyly smiling for the first time in years.
Kurama gasped. He had fallen to his knees, and hadn't even remembered doing it. He looked up to see that Alma was gone, and hastily reached for the radio beneath his blazer pocket.
"Squad Two, any sign as to the phantom's whereabouts?"
Silence.
"Squad Two, do you cop-"
He stopped, look behind him, and saw that there were more charred courses surrounding him than he'd seen before. Kurama sighed before putting away his radio, then bent down to pick up Nana, who Alma had somehow spared, perhaps either for for mercy, or for nothing more than the fact that she'd had her fill of blood for the day. At any rate, it was time to go. He began walking toward the beach, where the chopper back to the base would be.
The day was nearing its end, the bright sun dipping low into a multi-colored sky that would look perfect on a postcard. Unfortunately, Yuka had little attention for pretty sunsets, or any other pretty views, as she was too engrossed by her thoughts. It was starting to become a bit of a habit with her.
First, she thought about the conversation she'd had with Kouta, where she'd almost told him how she'd felt. Even then, she'd probably already said enough for him to guess how she'd felt about him, and now she was dreading having to go back home.
Second, she considered that girl she'd seen: Mayu. It probably wasn't any of her business, but she couldn't shake the feeling that that girl didn't really have a home to go to. It might be possible that she could stay with her and Kouta. Mayu seemed sweet and sincere, and not the sort of homeless person who'd steal things. Also, it wasn't as though they didn't have any room. They could house plenty of people, and-
…...and…
Yuka sighed. She knew why she was letting her mind wander, and it wasn't because of her feelings. It was her arm, and the fact that she'd cut herself without even noticing. Never in her life had something like this happened to her, and while Kouta hadn't noticed her cut, (she'd been careful to wear long sleeves,) he had noticed that she'd been sleeping a lot less. But what would Kouta think if she'd told him? Would he insist on moving out? Would he think she was insane? Was she insane?
Yuka stopped at the bridge, shut her eyes, took a deep breath, and held it for as long as she could. This whole thing was stressing her out, and she needed to calm down before she truly did lose her mind.
"Nyu!"
Mayu opened her eyes to see a familiar face in front of her, and this made her feel a lot more happy.
"Nyu, I was looking for you! Kouta and I were worried sick!"
Nyu began bouncing up and down excitedly at the mention of home, and Yuka felt her previous anxieties melt away at the sight of that warming smile. Yuka stepped forward wrapped her arms around Nyu, and pulled her in for a warm embrace.
"Let's get you home, Nyu. You belong with your friends!"
As she said this, Mayu felt the hairs on the back of her neck raise up, and a strange cold sense of dread began to blot out the warmth she had. Abruptly she let go of Nyu, taking a step back from her, but Nyu seemed to be acting just fine.
"Nyu?" asked the girl, confused at the sudden change in emotion.
"It's alright, Nyu," assured Yuka, "Let's just head home."
The two girls headed straight back to the house, and no matter how many times Mayu looked over her shoulder, she couldn't shake the feeling that they were being followed.
General Director Kurama stood outside of Nana's ward, staring through the window at her, feeling drained, hot-eyed,and massively, impotently angry. He watched as Nana rested on a hospital bed, her stumps bandaged and hooked up to various IVs and blood bags. She hadn't regained consciousness since he'd taken her, which was unsurprising given the amount of blood she'd lost. It was nothing short of a miracle that she was still alive. Apparently, Director Kakuzawa had anticipated Nana's injuries, and had provided the evac team a fully staffed medic squad, ready to administer reserved blood to the injured Diclonius. Not that Kakuzawa had bothered to tell him this.
Kurama still couldn't get over how today had gone. How he'd had to stand there and try and...and reason with that monster, all while Nana bled out at his feet. And those memories he'd experienced. He couldn't tell whether Alma had deliberately shared them or not, but he was beginning to piece together just how much Lucy an Alma had in common. Now Nana's life was in jeopardy, and there was nothing he could do to save her, just as there was nothing he could've done against Alma. And Lucy. And-
"Sir?" Kurama looked to his side to find Shirakawa standing patiently beside him. A small part of his mind briefly wondered how long she'd been standing there before the rest of his mind quickly decided that he didn't care.
"What is it?" he asked her.
"Director Kakuzawa wants to speak with you."
He had been expecting this, had known what Kakuzawa was going to say, but it still didn't make him feel any better.
"...Sir?"
"Leave. Now." The sharp edge behind those two words was enough for Shirakawa to take a hint. She made an abrupt heel turn and quickly strode away. For a moment, Kurama stood perfectly still, and the only part of him that moved was the tiny red vein pulsing on the side of his forehead. Then, inexplicably, a violent, angry scream erupted from his lungs as he brought up his fist to strike the window in front of him. Small cracks spread across the glass from the point of contact. It might have hurt his hand as well, but the seething rage he was currently feeling seemed to be blocking out any physical pain. Now, as he stared at what remained of Nana's bloodied body, at the young girl who had trusted him with his life, Kurama began to fear that the promise made by those monsters was going to come true.
Man, there's something about the holiday seasons that just discourages many writers from updating. Well, not me! I know many of you are wondering about whether or not I'll include Alma's sons, but the truth is I'm not sure. I want to focus mainly on Alma and Lucy's relationship, (which will get more interesting as Lucy recovers her memories and I delve into their childhoods.) Also, this story takes place between the first two F.E.A.R. games, meaning that the Point Man is currently detained, and Paxton's dead...for now. However, I do plan on tweaking the timeline of F.E.A.R. to fit into the world of Elfen Lied, so it might be possible to include Paxton and the Point Man. For now, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and be sure to leave a review and a favorite. Bye for now!