Disclaimer: I hereby disclaim all rights to all characters (save for those of my own creation) in this short confrontation… especially for the one who suffers a real beatdown.
~保護者~
"Little Child"
~保護者~
Ghune surveyed the battlefield before her. Nareish's army (or what portion of it was here right now) was massively losing, which was to be expected. They'd gone against people far stronger than they could ever hope to be. Things were also going rather well, though with a certain amount of chaos missing from the fray.
So, Ghune raised a hand and actively began migrating the blood from all over this battlefield into a singular point, directly above her fingertip. It was slow going, of course, and it drew plenty of attention.
That was what she wanted.
As enemies approached to stop her from her plan, she smirked and used the blood to rapidly cast numerous spells. The air around her violently exploded, disintegrating her foes instantaneously. This was enough to cause them to slow their approach, but it was already too late.
The vampire was among the oldest beings in existence and, unlike many, she had never gone dormant, nor had she ever stopped her own training. As such, she fancied herself quite skilled and simply chose to freely cast one of the strongest spells she was capable of casting.
Blood spiked out of the massive ball and struck the nearest of the army, pulling them in and simultaneously arcing out towards the next, then the next. The ball of blood seemed to gurgle as more was added to it, then it all vanished at once.
Enemies all across the battlefield dropped dead suddenly, hearts stopping and causing general chaos. Large enemies toppled onto smaller ones, while the smaller ones were collapsing into heaps. Her magic struck hard and fast, so much so that none of these unskilled fighters would stand a chance. Of course, it didn't kill every enemy. Doing so would simply end this, and she needed more time. It was merely to thin the herd a second time.
This left her with one task, and that was to find a stronger member of Nareish's army no matter who they were and kill them. Eyes were now on her, that was for certain. Whether or not her foes cared, simply being here was an important thing to note for those who knew her reputation. The vampire queen would have to be truly furious to have stepped onto a battlefield such as this. And oh, was she furious.
Ghune flew forward and sent out a beam of magic. "I know there are others here. Show yourselves so I can prove your inferiority!" she called. Meanwhile, just within range of her vast senses, Zenith appeared and disappeared in the blink of an eye, leaving an instantaneous crater of death in his wake.
Meanwhile, on a seperate side of the battlefield, Saethrim was causing chaos and mayhem of his own. Heads were torn from their bodies and blood was sprayed all around. His hands dug into the enemies, allowing him to tear out their hearts. These organs were soon used as weapons, being thrown into the faces of various other foes he faced to give him the freedom to tear them apart with pure strength.
This all reminded him too much of his death in the past, being surrounded by Nareish's soldiers and beasts. Each of these fools was following her, whether by their choice or by hers. They each deserved death, he'd long since decided, and a brutal one at that. Every single last one of them. Lightning erupted from his body as he took on the traits of a lightning elemental, tearing chunks out of the ground and incinerating the living beings it touched. Anything that survived this was soon ended by his hands more directly.
By now, the da Asani was covered in blood. It didn't help that he was quite literally tearing enemies apart with his bare hands. He chose to ignore it, shifting his form into an ice elemental. The liquids coating his body were swiftly frozen solid, and he cracked his way out of all of it, using the frozen blood like daggers and slicing through the throats of anything that came near.
One enemy's blade came oddly close to cutting him, but it never was allowed to make contact. He shifted the space around him to let the blade pass by effortlessly and ram its way right to the brain of another foe. He reached down and took the handle of the blade from the problematic enemy, effortlessly slicing their head off and snapping the blade over his knee. It was discarded like the trash it was.
It became obvious that the army was thinning around him, and he simply walked forward. He summoned his blade into his hand and glanced around, frowning to himself. Those three must actually be performing well for Nareish to have not yet appeared. That hedgehog might be onto something.
~保護者~
Black Doom was wrenched from his latest nightmare when he suddenly found himself falling onto the cold stone floor in an unfamiliar location. A quick glance around showed that he was in some sort of an intensely dark room. Why he was suddenly awake enough again to fully comprehend his surroundings, he had no idea. But it wasn't his immediate concern. He was trapped on his hands and knees, cuff-like bindings of pure energy pinning his wrists and ankles to the floor. Nareish appeared by his side and knelt down, chuckling to herself. Already, he knew what was coming.
He barely had a chance to try and brace himself before it began. By the time energy began flowing through him, his breathing was already shallow in anticipation of the agony to come. This transformation was just as forced as all the others in the past but, while many of those aforementioned transformations had been rapid, this one was not. He knew well by now that both Nareish and Gerald took great pleasure in making them slow. Gerald did it for the sake of observation, examination, and torture. Nareish did it purely for the latter.
Every muscle in his body was as tense as they could be, his jaw clenched so tightly that his teeth felt like they might start to suffer damage. One by one, each sharp porcupine-like spine that his this form sported along its, well, spine stabbed up through his skin. The five fingers of each hand dug into the ground as claws tore free of their tips, digging in deep gouges when his body unwillingly jerked and seized in blinding pain. Those fingers then receded and reshaped themselves as four toes.
At the same time, his arms began to change into a pair of front legs while his current form's legs began altering into the hind legs of an animal. His barbed tail began to emerge and grow out painfully behind him. Meanwhile, his mouth started to elongate into a snout. His current teeth started becoming sharper while new equally sharp teeth started growing in to fill the newly expanded space. The covering of fur he had been sporting recently receded almost all at once, shortly followed by the pointed ears.
All the while, his bones groaned, creaked, bent, stretched, and at times even snapped in the process of reshaping themselves. His skin, muscles, ligaments, and so on tore in places and regrew as his size adjusted to one of a larger being. Everything was finally, finally over after that. Body trembling and limbs quaking, he collapsed onto the floor. He was breathing harshly, rapidly, and shallowly. Blood covered him all over from the brutality of this forced transformation, though he was no longer actively bleeding.
Nareish's laughter reached him despite the agonized cloud of exhaustion and confusion weighing down on his mind. Hearing her voice made him tense. Instincts demanded he stay still and silent. Lashing out or making any vocalizations would earn him swift and violent reprimands. That was something he remembered very clearly, even now. She made him hurt. Her hands and energies hurt. They made him afraid. This form was far more prone to emotions and far more susceptible to their influences. As such, that fear quickly began to overtake him and dictate his responses.
Words filtered through the fog, though not all of them were understood. "There's a good pet," she said softly. "I do so love this form of yours. Wild and violent, yet intelligent… It was your first form, was it not? That is, once you took on a form at all, of course. Someday I would greatly enjoy learning how long that took you… But for now we have other matters to attend to." She moved, dark power gathering into a miniscule spear of sorts in her hand. He trembled from exhaustion, agony, and fear. "This is going to be fun."
That was when her weapon suddenly sank deeply into his skin near the underside of his chest. Shrieking and lashing his tail, he recoiled sharply by jerking himself upward to get the offending item off. Or, rather, out. He heard her laugh again while yanking the weapon free. She stabbed it into his back next, using it as leverage to brace some of her weight on while she leaned into his line of sight. "How much more can you take on this day, I do wonder? You lasted such a pitifully short amount of time during your last days with Gerald. Does your body remain as weak now as it was then?"
Nareish pulled the weapon out of his back, adjusted it in her hand so that it was pointing up, then stabbed it deeply into his side. After that, she slashed one of his hind legs and then across the side of his face, narrowly missing his eye. He took another stab to the chest, this one narrowly missing his heart. She dragged the blade around to properly tear him open and then executed several additional stabs to his sides. All he knew about what was happening as more and more stabs and slashes began to litter his body, all he could understand, was that this was punishment. That word sounded off in his head over and over, but what he didn't and couldn't grasp was why he was being punished this time. In light of all his pain, it wasn't as though he was able to think on it too deeply.
After she finished with the majority of her attack, Nareish let his restraints vanish and bowled him over with a single hard shove. This forced him onto his back with his abdomen fully exposed, and this was how she forced him to remain with one simple command. "Stay." Though full of terror and breathing too harshly to sustain himself well, Black Doom did as he was told immediately at the behest of his thoroughly riled up survival instincts. He didn't dare to move beyond fighting to take in as much air as possible from his shallow, rapid huffs of breath.
Stay, he repeated to himself. Though this form was ordinarily (at least in the past) capable of much clearer and more intelligent thoughts, one-word phrases were all he could successfully put together right now. Stay. Obey. Hurts. Hurts. Afraid. Obey.
Her weapon tore into his stomach, cutting a deep and long gash. The pained shriek he let out happened automatically and earned him a sharp strike to the face with an open hand. Her rebuke of, "Quiet," only gave him a new word to repeat to himself within his mind. Afraid and hurting and understanding none of what was happening now or why, he could only tense when he felt warm liquid flowing into his wound. Just two or three breaths later, the pain from that wound vanished along with the wound itself.
With that done, Nareish stood. She blasted him into the nearest wall, ignoring the yelp-like sound that broke free from him in response to the impact. By the time he'd hit the floor, she was turned around and walking away. "Stay put, pet. As soon as I leave, I'm sure your little God will be able to sense you. Just be patient. And in the meantime… don't get too comfortable." Laughing once again, she disappeared from sight… and the forced transformations began anew.
This form was a much newer one. One he was unaccustomed to due to having spent almost no real time in it. It had only developed during his time with Gerald, and clearly in response to all of the electrocution he'd been subjected to early on. Immediately, he knew he was going to endure nothing but fresh agony.
Immediately, the same hell his muscles, bones, and everything else had been suffered through before happened again. His body was wracked with painful spasms as his tail and spikes receded and the rest of him began to grow taller and bulkier. He had seen bears once or twice before in the wilds of some worlds, and they were the closest creatures he could liken this form to. It even had similar ears, though the ears of this form ended in small points. This form even had a stubby tail of sorts.
A deep, guttural roar tore itself free of him when several of his bones violently snapped into place at the same time. Briefly, memories of that electricity came rushing back into his mind. However… this form knew those bolts not as a source of pain, but rather as a source of energy. Wild, violent, powerful energy. He had several trashed the ARK when this form had emerged. With no control at the time and energized more than anyone had anticipated, Nareish had had to put him down. Forcefully.
It was nothing short of a relief that none of it happened again this time.
The second this latest transformation was finished and his overall ordeal was (however temporarily) over, Black Doom had enough presence of mind to use what little remained of his energy to shift back into one of his two forms that were more people than animals. It happened to be his newest one that he changed into, but he was barely conscious enough at this stage to notice. Blood poured from his wounds. This rapid loss was only exasperated when he suddenly threw up from the sheer amount of pain he was still in. As was always true of all Black Arms, he vomited nothing but blood.
Before he could throw up again, he mentally reached out to the only person he could think of who might be able to both hear and find him. As he collapsed onto his side, eyes fluttering shut, he fought weakly to establish a connection. He didn't have the luxury of waiting for permission to be granted. A connection had to be made, even if the only way was by force. He just… didn't think he had the strength to do it. As he tried to put pressure on the worst of his injuries, the one by his heart, he was distantly aware of calling out just one word. "S… Saeth… rim…"
After that, everything rapidly faded to black.
He awoke an unknown length of time later with a sharp intake of breath and then a series of painful coughs that wracked his whole frame. Where he was, he didn't immediately recall. All he remembered at first was Nareish and an extreme amount of pain. More coughs forced their way out of him. One of his arms moved sluggishly to try and push himself up. Though his limbs shook and his body ached, he managed to move into a sitting position.
Memories slowly started coming back to him, and he quickly looked himself over. His life-threatening wounds were gone. That made sense. Whenever Nareish tortured him and brought him too close to death, she would inevitably heal him before he could actually die. Or, at least, she would heal him from the worst injuries inflicted. The powerful, lingering ache from the transformations was always left behind along with any wounds that didn't put his life at risk, and that proved true even now. He wasn't sure if he could stand because of it.
Nevertheless, he attempted it. He needed to try to leave this place, wherever it was. For once, he wasn't left trapped and powerless. This wasn't an opportunity to be wasted no matter how his body felt. Instincts demanded nothing less than full effort being put toward standing, moving, and escaping. He knew it was no use trying to ignore them right now, so he didn't bother wasting energy on it. Instead, he did exactly as they bid him to do and pushed himself to feet.
For a perilous couple of seconds, his surroundings tilted and swayed. He couldn't immediately place the reason for why, but then he resumed being aware of the pain he had been thinking of earlier. Moving had caused him to experience a momentary but no less severe uptick in said pain. That it and the blood loss was the cause of him nearly fainting was clear, but there was nothing he could do about it. Once everything stopped spinning, he opened his eyes again.
He'd caught himself on a wall with an arm. Said arm was as covered in blood as the rest of him was. While Nareish appeared to have guarded the floor here somehow, she'd not done the same thing to the walls. The stone was sizzling and rapidly melting under his skin, prompting him to pull himself away. What was left behind was a hole leading into a more open space, one in which there seemed to be some access to the outside. In the distance, he could see starlight. That was good enough for him.
Phasing was incredibly difficult to do, if only because he was so exhausted. Still, he managed it and began slowly limping toward what he could only hope was some form of an exit. His nose twitched a few times as he went in response to him waking up enough to finally start noticing the smells around him. He was utterly encased in a cloud of his own scent, specifically that of his own blood. He hated it.
Further ahead, in the direction he was headed, he could smell other things. Metal. Chemicals. Electricity. …And also him. His pace faltered and he caught himself almost sinking down onto his knees. Not again, was the first thought to enter his mind. That was closely followed by, I'm not going back. While he had no ideas whatsoever about how he might be able to avoid detection by the ARK or the man within it, Black Doom soon found that it didn't matter.
The acrid smell of smoke hit him next. It was unmistakable, as was the scent of fire and magic. It drowned out nearly everything else, but not enough so that he couldn't still pick up on other things. Blood. …His blood? How? What-? Drawing in a deep breath, he tried to further assess the situation without having to venture any closer. He didn't honestly expect it to go the way he wanted, and it didn't.
Hardly daring to move lest he be discovered, he edged forward. Another step, and his survival instincts were clamoring for him to hunker down and to stay still and quiet. As he had once always unfailingly done in the distant past, he obeyed them instantly and without question. More scents wafted in as he moved into a low crouch, eyes and ears almost painfully alert for any signs of danger. He could still smell blood, but he could also smell something else. It was faint and had nearly been burned away, but was that… Surely that couldn't have been Toru's scent, could it?
Brief though his interactions with the man had been, once he encountered a smell it was engraved in his memory forever whether he liked it or not. There was no mistaking whose scent this was, but even so he was having a hard time believing it. Some vague memory tugged at his mind, some explanation as to why the chameleon would have been there, but whatever it was eluded him.
What in the hell was happening? Nothing made any sense. He almost didn't want to find out, either. Trying again to contact Saethrim sounded like a much better idea. Clearly he hadn't come anywhere close to succeeding before, given the fact that the man hadn't come by now. It seemed wise to make another attempt. He concentrated and reached out with his mind again and searched for Saethrim's. This would only work because Saethrim was the God of Mythical Creatures again. He could feel it. It worked well in his favor, so he didn't question it. At least, not right now. Ultimately, he found himself distracted from that issue, anyway.
He was… both surprised and not to find that the man wasn't all that far away. Reaching out further, he attempted to get Saethrim's attention via a mental nudge of sorts. While doing this, he tried to determine if he had enough energy to teleport on his own, should he again fail in this endeavor. It was just his luck that he didn't. Damn it all.
Only belatedly did he recall that he was in a form that required clothing. With nothing in the environment that he could use to cover himself, he manifested a thin cloak of pure Darkness over himself to do the job instead. When that proved too much to try and sustain right now, he changed it to something smaller. They were simple coverings for his lower half (he thought people on Ghune's world called them "shorts"?) and he hoped it would suffice. After that, all that was left to do was wait. He refused to walk any further, even pretending he had been well enough to do so - which he most certainly wasn't. Both his instincts and his mind were telling him not to take the risk, and so he didn't.
The sound of footsteps near him suddenly appeared, and arms wrapped around him gently despite the blood covering him. "You'll be okay," Saethrim murmured, holding him close. "I hate that it got this far…"
Several thoughts flitted through Black Doom's mind right about then. First, being held like this was a strange experience, especially considering who the one doing it was. Second, there was concern initially about the damage his blood would cause, though that was quickly alleviated when he saw that Saethrim was in the form of a Black Arms. Third and final, why had Saethrim even been close enough to hear his silent call in the first place? But… that could be addressed a bit later. He focused instead on calming himself down so that his instincts would settle. Already, they were in the process of doing so. If Saethrim was here, then he was safe. He'd learned that well by now. This is safe, he reminded himself regardless. Calm down.
Saethrim knew that he'd been given back the role of God of Mythical Creatures by now, and as such chose to make use of it. He had a sway over that which he protected, and in this case… it might be necessary to help Black Doom feel more at ease. "I won't let her hurt you anymore," he said gently. "You are safe."
After a long, long pause, Black Doom nodded a little. Then he said, "Something happened out there. To the ARK." His eyes were locked in that direction, nose faintly twitching again now that his focus was back on the scents he had encountered earlier.
"Shadow," Saethrim answered, blinking once when he realized that the information had suddenly come to him when he reached his own senses out in that direction. "I have to assume it was him. Ghune was there as well."
Black Doom instantly tensed. While rapidly committing to memory the fact that this was the unique scent of Shadow's magic, specifically, he demanded to know, "Shadow was here?"
"... Yes," Saethrim admitted. "They've left by now. They went… back through the portal we came in. Ghune is still here."
That last bit of information wasn't surprising. Black Doom recalled something vague about her telling him she was leaving, and even ignoring that it made sense for her to want to participate in a strike against Nareish. Still, the fact that Shadow has been here… The scent of blood wouldn't have been fully obliterated, so he likely wasn't hurt… badly. That was a cold comfort, however.
"Let's get you out of here," Saethrim said. "You need to get the hell out of this place." The da Asani realized easily enough that Black Doom was more than willing to go, and as such he simply warped them both back to the hive. He then teleported to T'chalik. "Watch over him directly any time me and Ghune are not here, understood?" the man demanded.
Naturally enough, this made the large alien frown, though Black Doom seemed to be ignoring them in favor of his own thoughts. "You know as well as any, if not better, that he does not take kindly to having his freedom or privacy trampled on. Tell me why you ask this of me."
"He's been taken twice now by Nareish," Saethrim explained pointedly. "If there is a next time, or something else is ever wrong, I need to know immediately."
T'chalik snorted softly in a gruff sound of acknowledgement, then said, "Yshervik and I will mind him while you are away - one of us with him at all times."
"Good." Saethrim let go of Black Doom finally, shifting his form back to his normal body. He twisted his neck around and let it crack violently, fury blazing in his eyes. "Now, I have lives to end." He didn't wait for a response, warping directly back into the middle of the battlefield and unleashing a hellish storm of lightning all over. Buying him enough time to relax and begin a transformation.
Before he could start, time around Saethrim froze entirely and Sul appeared before him. He cautioned Saethrim to stop for a moment with an upraised hand. "Before you, rightfully, begin your rampage," he murmured, "I feel I must inform you of what has just gone on. I understand your charge does not fully recollect what has happened. You got no real information from your nose, either, correct?"
"No," Saethrim answered shortly, slowing his transformation as his skin made way for scales. "I couldn't figure out much, and I had to focus on getting him away."
"Sharing memories is somewhat less my forte than Aethra," Sul said, "but I can still show you his memories of what occurred - buried and lost though a few currently are to him."
Hearing this, Saethrim took a second to think about it before nodding. "Go ahead." Sul nodded and, now that permission had been granted, did as he'd said he would. He did spare Saethrim the intimate details of the pain Black Doom had felt, especially when transforming, but the essential parts were all still there. The stabbings and slashings, the two transformations, the fearful obedience, the knowledge of the new form, and the warm liquid entering a wound were all shown, for they were the most important parts.
"She's trying to cause him to bear a spawn." Saethrim growled hatefully, claws sprouting from his fingertips.
"Unfortunately, yes," Sul agreed. "Hence why I wanted to inform you so quickly. That, and the new form. It is not the only new one he's developed that you and Ghune have yet to learn about. And, as with all his other past animal forms, new Black Arms are going to start rising up that take on those same forms. If he happens to be anywhere but at the hive when this occurs, I know you understand what sort of destruction the newly born creatures will wreak."
"I know," Saethrim replied. "I know full well."
Sul inclined his head. "As I am fully aware. It merely needed to be said." He sighed to himself. "Regardless… If you are ready to continue now, I will return time to its normal state."
By now, Saethrim was fully a wyvern in all but his mind. Piercing eyes, massive draconic body and arms with wings. "I'm ready."
"Very well. I will aid you if necessary, but my focus must remain mostly on Jet. Still, I will be there for you should something happen." With a wave of his hand, Sul unfroze all of time and motioned for Saethrim to be on his way. "Be careful, Saethrim." After that, he vanished.
The ground erupted with the force of Saethrim's roar, sending debris flying into the midst of his enemies as he surged forward. His claws ripped and tore through anything he could find. If it didn't die to his claws, then it did to his teeth. While he didn't have elemental powers like he would in his draconic and elemental forms… he made up for it in pure, unbridled strength that was unstoppable by most beings in existence.
Some unlucky fool summoned a barrier and incurred his wrath instantly. He bashed his skull through it and bit them in half. These pathetic followers of Nareish didn't deserve to exist. It only briefly occurred to him that one of the larger creatures that came close to his body was swiftly dispatched as he warped them in front of him and crushed them with one foot.
Nothing was allowed to survive and, with his own teeth and claws, he was prepared to ensure that.
~保護者~
He knew full well what he was getting himself into here. Even as his ears folded from screeching metal and anxiety threatened to stain his face with tears, he fought on. No matter how many times he hit the ground, he got back up and gripped his blade again. Jet and Wave were involved. This was… massively important. He found it hard to say, but he had found himself quite close to them in his timeline (despite how long it took him to accept that Jet thought of him as a friend).
With Jet here, though, he couldn't bring himself to use his fire. Jet needed to be able to freely focus. Instead, he empowered each strike with his golden magic, fighting his body's urge to falter as he steadily sustained more injuries. The Aether being involved in the raid meant that every now and then, it was able to use its energy to keep Wave and Steam healed. However, it constantly doing so wouldn't be sustainable with it directly trying to aid Wave in fighting.
His blade went skittering and he was thrown violently away, rolling on the ground and spitting blood out of his mouth. He'd known he wouldn't be able to deal any real damage, but him being here meant she couldn't let her guard down. There was no mistake to make. Given the chance, he would kill Nareish, and she knew that - not that he could let himself, knowing what was necessary in the future.
Blade back in hand, he returned to the fight. He was blasted quite directly and sent to the ground again, clutching at his chest. Shit! Breathe, dammit! His body was screaming for this to end, but he couldn't just stop. Still, though, his body feeling like lead was slowing him tremendously. It was also getting a bit hard to see… and his sense of smell detected a consistent scent of metal (copper, maybe?).
He used his blade to hold himself up, coughing painfully and trying to get himself ready to rejoin the fight. Steam had made sure prior to the battle to tell them to not get distracted by him being harmed, as their focus strictly needed to be on Nareish. However, Nareish suddenly vanished in the direction of Jet's position, leaving Wave to deal with the surrounding hordes alone.
As Steam fought to recover, a portal began to slowly open nearby. It was the color of pure aura, like the energy that made up the Faein. It remained sluggish only for a few seconds before suddenly bursting to life with energy. A person started to emerge, tugged swiftly yet gently through by the swirling aura. Some form of pyrzar beast attempted to lunge for them, but a rapidly slicing motion from a knight's sword cut them down right away. Only then did the person have a chance to fully emerge from the portal, allowing it to close behind them.
The person, now clearly none other than Tara, took stock of situation with eyes as intelligent as Locke's, then huffed at the sight Steam made. "Alright, you great big lug," she murmured affectionately as she walked over. Her armor, which covered all but her head, neck, and hands, glinted in the dim light. "What's going on with you? I know you can fight better than this."
Steam took a second before she got close to cough and spit out the blood in his mouth, chuckling weakly. "Getting my ass kicked. If you didn't realize, it's something I'm not half bad at."
"You could stand to be worse at that part," was the mild chastisement. She offered him a hand to further support him in his efforts to stand.
The hedgehog took his wife's hand without hesitation and smiled a bit. "Yeah… In my defense, this time I'm fighting Nareish of all people. I think some of this is passable, all things considered."
"Hm, I suppose so," Tara agreed soon enough. "Now, are you ready to stop being their punching bag? Because I have no interest in taking part in that manner of beatdown."
"I guess that's the best course of action," Steam answered, pulling his hand away to stretch a bit, wincing. Yeah… I let this get too bad for me. Regeneration should kick in soon enough. "I think… I might be able to get something done."
"Good." Tara hefted her sword up onto her shoulder. "Lead the way. I'll follow you in and watch your back."
"Actually… you might want to step back," Steam answered, recollecting his sword. "I've got a reckless, but good idea."
"Our definitions of 'good' tend to be concerningly different, Steam."
"I'm following your definition this time," Steam replied, chuckling.
The echidna smiled faintly at him. "Then I suppose I can agree."
Steam twirled his sword, much like how Kaden would as he muttered something under his breath. He leapt into the air and refocused his attention on Nareish, eyes glowing with his magic. Sorry for taking so long, guys.
"Minos!" Steam called out, a massive body of a minotaur forming around him made purely of magic. The bipedal form wielded an equally large blade, and it followed his every movement. Without fail, he returned to the fight, charging into the hordes with his newly discovered spell by Wave's side. He was fully intent on fighting far better, due in no small part to Tara wanting him to. That was reason enough.
~保護者~
Wave wasn't used to fights where she was relegated to being little more than background support. Or, at least, she wasn't anymore. Even still, this was a role she happily took up on this day for one reason and one reason only. Jet needs me. That was all the motivation she needed.
Still, the swallow took care to stay out of his way. Even with the Aether here, he's still not acting like himself. Not enough, anyway. Jet's attacks were brutal, violent, and deadly to absolutely anything that failed to evade him. The mere presence of the Void's energy was giving her unpleasant chills that made focusing on the fight difficult. "Isn't there anything more we can do to help him?" Wave asked the Aether in undertone while slinging hexes into the crowd that was trying to gather around them. Have to keep the crowds back. Jet can't handle them and her at the same time.
"I don't know," the Aether murmured. "Me getting too close is asking for the Void to attack me." The being put most of its effort into empowering Wave directly with its own energy, openly allowing her to do as she had to.
"I know," Wave sighed. "I just… I hate seeing him like this." Wave mentally cast a spell and lobbed it into the aforementioned crowd. It loosed an explosion that rent the lot of them limb from limb.
The Aether looked away from Wave for a moment, seeing Steam's struggle. It was quick to use its healing capabilities to keep him in the fight and alive, then returned its attention to Wave. "They're both worrying me."
"Steam's good at bouncing back when he really needs to," Wave murmured, but not without sympathy. "We know he'll be fine."
"I suppose you're right," the Aether said, looking up and over to Jet's part of this fight. …Can I do something…?
Wave teleported her old Babylonian sword into her hand just in time to whip around and cut off a random opponent's upraised arm. It and the person's weapon fell to the ground with a thud, and then she finished them off with a blast of aura from her free hand. "Too many of these guys are starting to swarm in," she realized aloud. "We need to do something bigger to force them farther back."
"Just- uh." The Aether looked around at the enemies coming in, visibly frowning. "Focus on anything close. I'll handle it, okay?" it said, already floating up above her.
"Got it. I can do that easily." Wave readied her sword again. "Ready when you are."
The Aether closed its eyes as its body morphed from its usual form to… a finch. A very familiar finch. With its energies being somewhat akin to magic, there were a lot of things it could do, and imitating the fighting style of Cyril was certainly on the table. The area around its body began to glow a bright yellow as it began 'casting spells' (though really it was just attacking with its energies). The hordes of enemies approaching were ensnared or otherwise obliterated all at once with various different effects.
When it was obvious that this wasn't quite enough to slow them down, it shifted again into a cat, one with quite the muscular build like Rose. A blade formed in its hands and the Aether disappeared, blinding flashes of yellow soaring through the ranks of the army before them as several enemies dropped dead with heads removed. Beams of Aether flew out in any direction that wouldn't hit an ally, tearing through the rest of the creatures that it didn't exactly get to.
As soon as the problem was thinned out, it appeared beside Wave, 'sheathing' the blade and morphing into a form far more like Wave's. "There… that should be good enough for now." Its attention shifted back toward Jet and the Void, frowning deeply. But… is me being here gonna be enough to help you guys?
~保護者~
Jet fought to keep both himself and the Void in check. They waited tensely for their true opponent to appear, but also fought anything and everything that ventured too close. The Void exuded dark glee with every new life it ended, but Jet didn't share in its pleasure. He kept quiet and withdrawn, more focused on his thoughts than what was happening in reality.
How was he even supposed to approach this? Nareish was someone he had taken great care to avoid thus far. Furious though he was at her for what she'd done to his father, no amount of anger or determination was going to win him this fight. Even raw skill and power wouldn't be enough, for every ounce of either one of those things he had still paled in comparison to her.
He knew better than anyone just how lacking he was when pitted up against her. No matter how much he did right in the fight to come, no matter how lucky he might find himself to be on this day, no matter how much support he had, chances were that he was going to die, anyway. The odds were solidly in her favor over his… and this was one death he simply wouldn't be able to recover from.
This was an odd feeling, facing a genuine threat of true death for the first time. Dying in any scenario was an awful experience, but this? This was something else entirely. There was no way it would be any less unpleasant than the form of death he was familiar with often proved itself to be. More than likely, it was going to be far, far worse.
It didn't help that he wasn't fucking ready to die yet, either.
All around him, the raid commenced. He sensed the trials and tribulations of everyone fighting on his side, but he paid them as little mind as possible. Whenever Nareish showed herself, and they all knew she would, he had to be prepared. A strike could come from any direction at any time. Hell, it easily could have wound up being an instantaneous death-blow, as well. There was no way of knowing which it would be… until a new presence made themselves known.
A Faein appeared before him, eyes compassionate and gentle yet also determined and strong. "Please, do not continue to think this way," they murmured. "I am here with you all. None of you will die to her, no matter what happens. I cannot interfere in this fight in any other way unless she directly threatens existence, but I can keep you alive."
In that moment, Jet understood something that had been left unsaid. They're too exhausted to completely take her out, anyway… much less without the help of the other three.
"She comes," the Faein warned, breaching his thoughts. "Be ready."
Gritting his teeth, Jet watched the Faein fade away and then drew his sword. "She comes" indeed, he reflected grimly. The woman in question appeared before him for the first time in his life and, in truth, he wasn't fond of the experience. Her energies were awash with corruption and malice, filled with traces of the many Immortals, semi-Immortals, and mortals alike who she had stolen strength and powers from. It was… physically sickening in a way he knew he would never be able to describe.
She started off in a form that was the same odd species as Gerald, Ivo, and Maria Robotnik, one with a slender build and long raven hair. However, she morphed before his eyes into that of a dark-skinned and dark-eyed Erukti - one with a wicked smile on its face. "I must say," she drawled, "that it's been a long time since I've had to show my true face. I do so enjoy lounging about in the form of that woman whose abilities I claimed… But, if I am to enjoy myself here, I need to be of an adequate size to properly fight, I suppose."
Jet wasn't interested in anything she was saying, nor did he care about her little reveal beyond one simple detail. The Erukti… A war-obsessed people who tried to wipe the other three infant races out of existence. Perhaps that has something to do with… all of this. For now, that was an issue he was forced to shove aside. "You will not be stealing anything more," he murmured. "Not on this day."
"And who exactly is going to stop me, I wonder?" she asked, teleporting her own sword into her hand. It was as black as her own damn soul probably was. "You? That's rather laughable, I must say. You are nowhere near strong enough to harm me, dove."
There was no use denying the truth. It would have been pointless and a waste of time - most importantly his own. And besides, it likely didn't matter to begin with. So long as he kept her busy and off of everyone else's backs for a while, then in theory her armies would be sufficiently thinned and they'd be able to retreat with their lives still intact.
But that was just a theory. He reflected on just how utterly wrong it probably was even as he and Nareish lunged at one another. He reflected, too, on the fact that this was one battle where his sword was also unlikely to survive. Yet he had no better options for either issue, no better way of handling his part in this raid or of even attempting to fight her. Weapon or no weapon, he was screwed. At least this way, he had some means of defense.
He was thrown backward by the sheer impact of their swords. His back collided with a rock formation of some kind, causing debris to rain down. She was on him again in seconds, moving faster than he could ever hope to keep up. Keeping track of what injuries he sustained when and where became impossible. In a matter of seconds, he was covered head to toe in them. Already he'd suffered stab wounds, slashes, bruises, broken and fractured bones, elemental injuries, magical injuries, and on and on the list went.
When it became clear that her frenzied attack was coming dangerously close to killing him, the Faein he'd met earlier stepped in. They knocked Nareish off and away while simultaneously healing Jet fully. "I'm sorry I can't do more for you now," they told him mentally. Even through this medium, their voice was full of genuine sorrow and regret. "However, I need you to remember something. All of this stolen power and knowledge she has… It has been steadily driving her mad throughout the course of her life. She was never meant to have it. Her erratic behavior in this era is due to that fact. Yet despite this, her intelligence remains mostly intact."
Jet let out a breath and moved to stand. Your point? he thought back, irritated.
"My point, my young kin, is that she is not the only one with a keen mind here," the Faein explained patiently. "It may not help you now, but in the future… take care to remember your own capabilities. You can do more than you think." In the distance, Nareish recovered. The Faein sighed softly. "For now, stick to your original plan. Keep her busy. Survive. I will ensure the others depart safely, and soon."
They vanished again shortly thereafter. Jet wasn't pleased about being left on his own again, but in the end he knew it had to be done. Looking around, he realized that more time must have passed than he'd previously realized. The hordes were significantly thinned by now, and a few of his allies appeared to have already retreated. Just how long had he held out? Certainly longer than expected, he at least knew that much.
Whatever the answer to his private question was, it didn't matter. Not here. Not now. Nareish was coming for him again. Even with the Void now fully focused on her as opposed to her army, he knew he wasn't ready. She hit him like a freight train, a hand striking his throat and slamming him backward into the rock again. It shattered, but she kept him pinned with energy at his back instead. His air supply now dangerously cut off, Jet tried to lash out at her with his sword. As predicted, however, she merely batted it aside.
The Void tried next to deal some damage. He didn't pay close attention to what exactly it did, but an attack of her own both countered the Void's and seemingly put the dark entity out of commission. For the first time since he'd unwittingly consented to bonding with the Void, he was unable to see or hear it. The voice in his mind has gone abruptly silent. He felt genuinely alone for the first time in far too long. Now was a hell of a time for that particular bit of relief.
Grinning, Nareish tightened her hold. Jet gritted his teeth and grabbed her arm with both hands in a vain effort to alleviate some of the pressure. This only made her laugh, and then she leaned in close. "It's as I first told you, the day we met…" she purred softly. "You were just a welp, then. Your precious mummy's blood had not yet even dried on this sword of mine. I found you there, all alone. And in that moment, as I cradled you in my arms, I spared you. I saw something then that I still see now… A price you must one day pay for my past generosity."
Leaning in close, she whispered in his ear, "'Little child… Your life… is mine.'"
In that instant, he understood her intentions all over again, as though he hadn't known them already. One day, she intended to kill him as she had done with all the others before him. She waited only for him to get as strong as she wanted, or to learn what abilities she wanted. His life was forfeit in her eyes, due to be snuffed out whenever she saw fit.
It was hardly any comfort that today wasn't that day. He found himself biting back a curse and squeezing his eyes shut when she resumed injuring him. It was the same deal all over again. Every conceivable injury she could have given him, she did. Then, when he was barely conscious, she suddenly stopped and said, "Now, then… Let me see that purple glow."
Though still unable to breathe or fight back, Jet had every intention of refusing anyhow. He didn't know what compelled him to open his eyes and glare at her right then, but the sight made her grin anew. "Beautiful," she murmured. "Absolutely beautiful. I'm glad to see that you've taken your father's suggestion so deeply to heart."
Her hand moved, and just like that he was being thrown on the ground. She knelt down as he struggled to force himself to inhale after being suffocated so powerfully for so long. "Why don't you rest a while, little dove? I've kept your parents plenty occupied, but I'm finished for today. They should be here soon. Take care not to die in the meantime. I assume your little Faein friend will ensure you don't, but it still bears mentioning. You do have a debt to repay, after all."
Nareish vanished, but not before leaving him with a parting gift. A sharp blow to the forehead was enough to put him completely out. He knew nothing else for an unknown length of time. But gradually, gradually, the blackness began to fade and he became dimly aware of his mother's voice. "He's over here, Sein! I found him!" She sounded… close… yet far away. In his current state, he wasn't sure which was real. In the end, it didn't make a difference, anyway.
Without hearing anything else, he found himself consumed by the darkness once more.
~保護者~
8,676 words this time. Yeahhh, Jet got his ass kicked as he thought he would. Yikes. But many thanks as always to Blazing Winds for all of his help and support and I hope you all enjoyed. Posted (at about 12:25 p.m.) 03-21-22.