Would it be unethical to tag them? thought Kouta to himself as he calmly strolled down the boardwalk near the beach, keeping one eye out for Nana, and another on Nyu, who was accompanying him as he searched.
Mayu and Yuka were going down the other end of the beach, and from there would begin looking around the town. Normally, it would have been a risk to take Nyu out, and honestly, it probably still was, but hopefully, the beanie that covered her head and gathered all of her hair up would help provide some cover. As he thought about the risk, Kouta wasn't sure which scenario would be more unnerving: the police finding Nyu, or what Alma would do to secure her freedom.
In truth, Kouta still wasn't fully aware as to how far back Nyu and Alma went, as well as the details of their relationship. He'd tried asking Alma a few times, and once the telepath had actually shrugged her bony shoulders and murmured something about an orphanage. Kouta was keen to learn more, but Alma had sent him a look that made him realize that pursuing any further inquiry might be a bad idea. It was far from gaining any source of closure, but he'd shrugged it off, telling himself that it probably didn't matter at the present moment.
…So why did she feel so familiar to him?
"Nyu…" Kouta was pulled out of his thoughts by the other eccentric woman in his life, who was rubbing her head, as though she had a migraine.
"Nyu, are you feeling well?" he asked, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder.
Nyu didn't answer, but simply kept rubbing her head. Kouta was beginning to feel uneasy about all of this. He didn't want Nyu to be in any pain, and was considering bringing her back home for aspirin, before he heard a series of sounds that made his head snap up and his blood freeze.
There was gunfire…and screaming. So much screaming.
Shirakawa felt chills all over her body. She'd never seen either of these two newcomers before, but she knew them both all too well: Alma Wade, and her firstborn son. This was a worse case scenario. They'd prepared Mariko to capture Diclonius, either Lucy or Nana, but not Alma. She raised the radio to her mouth to issue an evacuation, but paused. They hadn't budged at all since they arrived. What were they doing?
Let her go.
Shirikawa hadn't expected a telepathic message, and nearly stumbled back in surprise. Judging by the surprised exclamations of her troops, as well as how Mariko squirmed in her wheelchair, it was abundantly clear that this message had been broadcasted widely. Let her go. They were clearly talking about Nana, who was lying limply on the ground. She wasn't even moving, now.
I need to- the thought died in her head before it could fully form. She was going to buy time, but thought better than that. She was dealing with a telepath. There was no privacy. Still, she had to do something.
"Stand down," she called out, and the soldiers lowered their weapons. Shirakawa strode forward, ignoring Isobe's protest, and eventually reached her targets, stopping by Nana, who was stirring faintly on the bridge.
"Alma. Mr. Wade," she said, curtly addressing her two guests, "It's good to finally meet you both."
Alma glared, and her son clenched his rifle tighter. It looked like the same model her guards wielded, and it explained why she hadn't received any radio chatter from the vanguard.
"As I'm sure you've deduced, we were contacted by Armacham," no point hiding intel from a mind-reader, "We had a Diclonius of our own brought out of storage to try and combat Lucy, and maybe even bring back Nana."
Alma glanced past her at Mariko, who was leaning forward in her wheelchair with keen interest.
"You don't have to read my mind to believe this," Shirakawa said, "but I know that this is fruitless. Mariko is no match for you, and I know how much of a capable soldier you are, Mr. Wade.
Alma's son, the Point Man, was gazing out at Nana's limp form. The look on his face did not bode well.
"Neither of you have any need for Nana," Shirakawa continued, "and I'm sure harboring an additional fugitive can't be all that convenient. Why not let us take her off your hands, and we can go our separate ways. There's no need for anyone else to be shot up or scorched."
Is that what you really want?
"I…I'm not sure what you mean."
Alma studied her, yellow eyes assessing too much detail, You don't really want us to stand down.
There was no question, no pondering. It was a fact stated with absolute certainty that comes with knowing another's mind as well as your own.
"My desire's must come second to that of the Institute," stated Shirakawa resolutely. None of the armed men had reacted at this, leading Shirakawa to wonder if this had been a private message. Alma gave no reply to that thought, which made Shirakawa all the more irritated.
"How long do you think you can hold out?" snapped Shirakawa, beginning to lose her composure, "You may have more power than normal people, but you're not invincible. You're not gods. You've managed to dodge one corporation so far, but how do you think you'll fare against two?"
You're stalling, Alma's thin lips curled up into a taunting smile, You know how this'll end if you don't obey.
She was right. Of course she was right. Shirakawa's hands were tied. If she refused to hand Nana over, then everyone would die, and she'd essentially be signing their death warrants, as well as her own. On the other hand, if she handed over Nana, (which she wanted,) then she'd be in serious trouble, as would Isobe and the other researchers, for giving away a valuable asset without a fight. Consequences for going against the Institute was severe, and not as merciful as death.
Alma and the Point Man were standing there, expecting a decision. It was time to choose. Shirakawa opened her mouth, but another voice spoke in her stead, and her throat constricted in terror at the voice.
"Booooring!"
Shirakawa turned around to see Mariko rolling up behind her. The young Diclonius regarded the two newcomers with an eager curiosity.
"Who are you two?" she asked, "Are you the ones putting thoughts in my head? It doesn't feel good."
"Mariko, stay back," ordered Shirakawa, "When I need you, I'll-"
"You're Alma, aren't you?" Mariko leaned forward in her seat with a gleam in her eyes that Shirakawa didn't trust in the slightest, "Papa told me all about you. I'm supposed to fight you, aren't I?"
Alma regarded her adversary with a cursory glance, seemingly unfazed by what was in front of her, You're new.
Mariko gave a soft smile, "I'm Mariko. I was playing with my new toy, but now you've come to take her away, haven't you?"
The Point Man responded this time with a firm nod.
"Aw, but I'm not done with her," Mariko said with feign sadness, "And now there are two new toys for me to enjoy!"
"Playtime's over, Mariko," said Shirakawa. She raised her hand, showing Mariko the detonator, "Don't forget the bombs implanted inside of you. One press of this button andAAAAUGH!"
The metal suddenly burned bright red, melting onto her hand. Shirakawa shrieked in pain as she dropped the remote, where it fully melted into a puddle onto the ground at her feet.
Alma, having finished melting Mariko's one and only restraint, turned back toward Mariko, Playtime's back on.
Mariko grinned from ear to ear, "Yes, it is."
Somewhere, behind Shirakawa, the words she was dreading were shouted for all to hear, "OPEN FIRE!"
Her mouth was too busy screaming in unholy agony to tell them to stand down, so she did the only thing she could think of, and dropped to the ground, cradling the burning chunk of pain that had previously been her right hand. She saw the Point Man dive for cover behind a nearby police barrier as the bullets started flying around her, like hundreds of angry little wasps. She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for either the noises to stop, or for her to die. Whichever came first.
She heard more shouting, more gunfire, including a few bursts coming nearby, presumably from the Point Man. When the air became very hot, and the shouts devolved into outright screams, Shirakawa didn't have to look up to know that Alma had just roasted her troops alive worse than chickens in an oven.
When the gunfire finally ended, Shirakawa raised her eyes. The blood and scorched ground was something out of a hellscape. Some of the victims had been burned. Some had been torn up. A few of them had discernible bullet holes in what remained of there bodies. Shirakawa felt her own body shiver in revolted horror at the carnage, unable to tell one charred body from another. It was difficult to tell where one corpse ended and another began, and to her traumatized mind, the bodies all seemed to blend together into the corpse of a many armed, multi-headed beast, composed of segmented parts and blackened bones. As she looked over the desolation, a single piece stood out to her, and she stared at the vacant eyes of Isobe's severed head. His eyes were widened in shock, but there also seemed to be an indignation in them, as well. His gaze was pointed directly toward Shirakawa, and despite all logic, there was a small part of her that believed that severed head was casting condemnation upon her for screwing this whole assault up.
You failed in your duty, he seemed to say, Now it's your turn.
Shirakawa breathed heavily, and tried her utmost best not to pass out. If she fainted now, she felt she may never wake from her ensuing nightmare.
The Point Man was hunched over Nana, checking her for injuries. Mariko was lying motionless on the ground, her wheelchair a twisted wreck of metal and plastic. Alma stood over her, staring down at the prone figure. Shirakawa thought she could hear some sort of sulky moaning coming from the girl, but she couldn't tell for certain. For all Shirakawa knew, it was she herself who was moaning.
"No fair! No fair!" complained Mariko, "You cheated! You must have!"
I don't need to cheat, responded Alma. A considerable amount of tears had lacerated her t-shirt, cutting into the logo. Yog Sothoth Rulez now read Yog Soth Rule.
"You!" Alma noted with amusement the tears forming in Mariko's eyes, "What are you even doing here?! Why do you care about that thing?!"
She gestured toward Nana, and Alma seemed to consider the question before responding, Not really sure.
"AAAAAAH! YOU'RE SO MEAN!"
High praise coming from you.
Mariko gave her a burning glare, but did not call forth any vectors, either she was too tired to do so, or perhaps she was just scared.
"Alma?" Shirakawa looked behind her upon hearing the new voice, and nearly groaned in exasperation.
Standing at the edge of the battlefield were two newcomers. One was an unfamiliar boy. The other was Lucy
Blood, bodies, and burn marks. That was all Kouta could discern, at first. Then, amidst the road of blood red and scorched black. He began to notice others.
The first person he noticed was a young woman lying prone on the ground, too shell shocked to move. She was cradling a hand that was burnt a raw red, with blotches of melted plastic grafted onto the flesh of her palm. The next figures he could make out were the Point Man, who'd gotten to his feet the moment Kouta had arrived. He was cradling Nana in his arms, the girl naked, bloody, and motionless. And there, in the midst of a scorched highway that resembled old photos he'd once seen of WW2 Hiroshima, stod Alma Wade. Her shirt had been torn to ribbons, and she was glaring down at a little girl who was laying on the ground. After giving her a second glance, Kouta realized this girl had horns growing out of her head, not unlike Nyu or Nana. Another Diclonius!
"A…" It took a moment for the words to make their way out of his throat. He'd never seen such a massacre in his life…
…Had he?
"Alma, wh…what happened?"
We followed Nana. She led us here.
Kouta slowly closed his eyes, hoping that his monstrously pounding head wouldn't burst, "What. Happened."
They were going to kill her, so we saved her.
"This…Alma, this is a massacre. Some of these people are police!"
They belonged to her, and to her people. Alma extended a long skeletal finger and pointed it toward the woman on the ground.
"I…but you…"
His headache was growing stronger, and more voices seemed to be joining Alma's in his head.
"Kanae, wait!"
"Run!"
"Liar."
"N-no Kouta! Don't say that! Don't hate me-"
A loud, wet tearing and the floors flooded with red!
Kouta felt himself losing control. Was this it? Was this how he would go out? Would the terror and pain and grief and voices build up in his head untilit exploded, adding a fresh coat of gore to the gristly tapestry before him?
"A-Alma, what is this? What are you doing to me?"
Alma, for her part, watched Kouta's complete and utter breakdown with a calm interest. Nothing. You're finally starting to remember.
"Remember what? Explain yourself!"
"...Kouta."
That hadn't been Alma. All eyes turned to look at Nyu, who'd developed a sullen sort of expression that Kouta had never before seen…at least, he didn't think he'd seen it, though it was somehow familiar. Was this Lucy?
Nyu was looking around, a sense of familiarity overtaking her features. Now she looked almost weary, "They came for us again, didn't they?
Technically they came for Nana.
Lucy glanced over at the still girl in the Point Man's arms. "Well, at least she'll pull through. Why did you come after her?"
Alma didn't give a response, yet Lucy nodded her head, as if in understanding, and her lips curled upward in a coy smile. "And they call you a monster, Alma."
Alma lowered her eyes. Not the time.
"Alright," Lucy looked around once more, and it was then that she finally noticed the woman laying on the ground, "Seems like you missed a spot, though."
She didn't want to kill Nana.
"Oh really?" Lucy slowly walked toward her, not taking her cold eyes off the frightened woman, "A shame she didn't have that same level of empathy when she and the other researchers were picking me apart at the Institute."
…I didn't know that.
"Yes, I remember you," Lucy glared down at the petrified woman, "You worked for Kurama, didn't you? I'm guessing the two of you were close, like that secretary of his."
Kouta felt his body go numb with fear. His mind was still going a mile a minute, and to speak now would draw the attention of Lucy, not Nyu, and he felt in his fracturing thoughts that doing so would be a bad idea. Even the Point Man looked uncomfortable by what was happening.
"I promised your boss that he wouldn't die until he'd lost everything, and now that includes you. Die."
And as this woman was ripped apart like a birthday present full of meat and blood, Kouta finally felt his lost memories force their way back into his mind, and he let out a long, horrified scream.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUGH!"
Lucy looked over at Kouta, showing more concern than she meant to. "What happened?"
Alma walked up to her, putting them both within equal range of Kouta. He remembers us.
A look of horror began to dawn on Lucy as she stared at the first boy to ever treat her kindly, "How much does he remember?"
Everything.
As one, both diclonius and phantom turned toward the human. The Point Man stood off to the side, Nana in hand. Whatever was about to happen, he had no intention of stepping in. This went well beyond both him and the girl in his hand.
For a while, Kouta could only catch his breath, his lungs panting in and out very heavily, as if he'd just finished a sprint through Death Valley. Eventually, he looked up and addressed the two girls who'd ruined his childhood, and perhaps his life.
"When I first met you both…I felt so excited! The only other girls I knew were my sister and my cousin, so I wasn't even sure how to react…I thought I was doing the right thing, offering you food, taking you all to the zoo…"
A smile slowly formed on his face, yet the look in his eyes made it seem as though he were disgusted to be sporting such an expression
"You two were my first honest friends. People I wanted to hang out with who weren't related to me. I thought your horns were cool, Lucy, and Alma…I was excited to meet a foreigner, someone who hailed from a part of the world that I had never even been to. I thought you two cared about me."
"We do," said Lucy.
Wrong answer, apparently.
"THEN WHY?!" Kouta suddenly screamed, and the Point Man tightened his grip on Nana at the sudden increase of volume and venom, "Why would you hurt me this way?! What did my family ever do to you?!"
"I…Kouta I lost control," explained Lucy. She reached up a hand and removed her hat, letting her hair flow down, and showing off her horns, "Kouta there's a…a voice inside of me. One that urges me to commit atrocities."
"That's no excuse," snapped Kouta, "Everyone has urges like that."
Not like Lucy, states Alma patiently, It's a feature in every Diclonius.
"Even Nana should have one," continues Lucy, "Though I have no idea how she can control it."
Her voice is stunted in her mind.
"I wish I could say the same."
"So that's it?" asked Kouta in an exasperated tone, "A murder voice made you do it?"
He turned to Alma, sizing her up and down, "What about you, Alma? What happened to you that made you so…emaciated?"
I died.
Her blunt, jarring reply caught Kouta off guard, "Wh-what?"
I died a number of years ago, after I was sealed in a vault.
"I…what are you, then?"
An aberration.
Kouta gave his old "friend" a very hard stare.
…A psychic spirit.
Kouta sized her up once more, "So…you really are a ghost."
I can change my form, too. In an instant the withered hag was gone, suddenly replaced by a young girl in a simple red dress. Lucy smiled fondly in nostalgia, while Kouta did a double take…also due to nostalgia.
"You…that," he was at a loss for words, which was a perfect time for someone else to stick their oar in.
"Well, how quaint! It seems there really is a reason that Mother was staying with you this whole time."
The voice was markedly different, but there was no mistaking that snide tone. The four people on the bridge turned as one to watch a bulky figure strolling toward them at a leisurely pace, as if he were enjoying a walk in a park rather than a scorched, gore-smeared highway. The Point Man, who was the first besides Alma to recognize his brother, frowned deeply, seemingly perturbed by his brother's choice in "attire."
"P-Paxton?" asked Kouta slowly, "Is that you?"
The bulky man, who had a faint red aura emanating from him, smiled darkly, "Indeed, boy."
"What is this? Can you change your form as well?"
The bulky man laughed good naturedly, "No, no, nothing like that. This is simply a body I've possessed for a time. The man who was originally using it thought to ambush my brother upon this very road. Do you recognize him brother? His memories tell me that the two of you had a bit of a scuffle on the beach."
The Point Man nodded at this, not looking the least bit satisfied in knowing that an enemy of his was now being used as his brother's latest toy.
"His mechanical augmentations are fascinating," mused Paxton as he flexed one of the arms. He seemed to be in quite a good mood, "Mother sure pulled quite a number on this one, didn't she?"
Kouta finally managed to find his voice, "Why are you here, Paxton?"
The cybernetic eyes of Paxton's host practically lit up at the question, "Why, I'm just touching base before the final storm. There's no telling how the Institute and Armacham will strike next!"
Kakuzawa stared down at the device in his hand, the container that contained an entity powerful enough to destroy Alma Wade. It was his, now. All his.
He looked at the fresh blood that coated one side of the metal casing, and smiled savagely. A smile that would've envied Paxton's and all his catastrophic, apocalyptic tendencies.