A/N: There's been some confusion on how many chapters are left, so I wanted to point out that there will be 52 chapters total, meaning 50 chapters, one prologue, and one epilogue. There's still one more to go after this and then an epilogue. And just a heads up, I've already started writing the final chapter, and it's already shaping up to be the longest chapter so far. It's twice as long as a standard chapter, so might take twice as long to be posted. Thanks for all your support so far!
Review Responses:
fanficlove2014, thanks! Glad you like it! We're wrapping up soon!
Arcane Student, thanks for the review! See the author's note above for explanation on the chapters. Enjoy the chapter!
Diana Raven, so glad you love it! Thanks for the review and all your support!
SlightlyOff7, yeah, the library was kind of the turning point for them. I realized as I was writing them that the ship wasn't going to happen, at least not the way they are now, and rather than force it I decided to just go with what I was feeling. Glad you liked the chapter ending and hope you enjoy this one!
Wisteria, thanks! So glad you liked it and that you like where things are going. Hope you enjoy the chapters to come!
karma88, absolutely. Kid's biggest weakness right now is his inexperience. It's interesting to think about what he could be when he catches up. Thanks for the review!
pokelover01, really glad you liked the chapter! Unfortunately, I can't comment too much on specifics without spoiling things (as usual) but I really enjoy reading your reviews. Thanks for all your support!
Guest, I don't think I've been very clear with that, sorry. He is totally capable of flying on his own. It just so happens that all of the times he's been doing it, he's also had to wield Tsubaki for a fight or something. Good catch and thanks for the review!
Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Eater.
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Lunacy Pt. 4, Rising Stars and Full Circles
"Morgan!" Cassie said, staring at her meister in complete shock, the link between her soul and the others faltering. Rei stared at Morgan as well, his mouth hanging open, his grip on the handle of Ayame's scythe form momentarily loosening. Morgan took their scrutiny in stride, her eyes moving over each of them in turn, lingering on Vayne's reflection in the blade in Clark's hands before settling on Rei.
"What are we just standing around here for?" she asked. "Are we fighting a battle or not?" Her free hand stretched out, reaching towards her partner. "Cassie."
Cassie hesitated for only a brief moment before transforming in a flash of light. The light wrapped around Morgan like a stream, Cassie's form shifting into a pocket-sized version of her usual Grimoire. The book hang around Morgan's waist from a slender silver chain, leaving her hands free for the sword.
Rei felt Morgan's soul reach out, searching, and he reached for her in turn, her wavelength tangling around his and Clark's. Their Resonance flared into life between the three of them, what had once been lopsided and uneven becoming suddenly complete. There was a clear note like the sound of a ringing bell, and their souls swelled, six wavelengths weaving together into one single entity.
In that instant, Rei was as aware of Clark and Morgan as he was of himself, so he was aware when they moved, Clark darting past him on the right and Morgan on the left as they moved to cut the army of black blood soldiers down. Rei moved only a half-second behind, he and Ayame cutting a swathe of destruction across the center of the attackers' formation.
Their souls moved with each other, intertwining in perfect harmony. To his left, he saw a flash of light from Excalibur as Morgan moved through the lines, the Holy Sword cutting through the air in wide arcs as Cassie's wavelength pulsed in the background, keeping time and maintaining the rhythm of the fight. To his right, Clark and Vayne were a storm of steel, black blood flying as Clark moved relentlessly forward. And in front of him, within him, there was Ayame, her soul a bright burning flame, a warmth in the center of his chest.
He could feel everything about them, all the little inconsistencies that made them different from each other. He could feel Vayne's excitement and surprise at seeing Morgan again, could feel Cassie's happiness mixed with her curiosity and concern. He could feel Clark's worry for his mother, the jagged hints of battle madness beginning to encroach on his soul with each enemy he cut down, and he could feel the intense wildness of Morgan's witch soul, drunk on rebellion and adrenaline and magic and power. He could feel Ayame's bravery and hidden fears and desire to prove herself and could even feel, through his connection to the others, his own insecurity and faltering confidence as their leader. Ordinarily, these flaws were things that sought to divide them, but they only seemed to make them stronger, to strengthen the resonance between them as they fought together, Excalibur's light and the light of their souls cutting a path free of the darkness.
And then they were out of the battle and running together, running across a long stretch of bright yellow rock towards the airship, the black blood still rising toward them and pooling towards that terrifying presence near the crest of the moon, not far from where Clark's own mother had been fighting.
"What's going on?" Morgan asked as they ran, drawing up beside him. "What did I miss?"
Rei swallowed, feeling a dryness in the back of his throat as he looked up at that growing vortex of black blood. "Asura's awake," he said. "At least, that's what I've been able to figure out."
"Shit," Morgan swore, shifting her grip on Excalibur to her left hand and slicing through a creature that tried to attack her from that side.
Rei turned to stare at her, eyes wide in surprise. Behind him, he felt Clark stop and do the same, felt a surge of something from Vayne that could almost have been admiration. Morgan swiped the sword in a neat flourish through the air, flicking off the black blood that had coated it as her brows rose in irritation.
"Given the sort of week I've had," she said, "you have no right to comment on my choice of language, Rei Evans."
"I wasn't commenting," Rei said, blocking an attack with the flat of the scythe blade before whirling the scythe around the back of his hand and slicing straight through his attacker's neck.
"You were," Morgan said, tapping the side of her head with one finger. "You just weren't doing it out loud."
"Is it just me," Ayame asked, looking out at the horde attacking them from inside her soul space, "or are there more of them now?"
Morgan's frown deepened as she slashed out at the next incoming wave, then stepped aside a split second before Clark came through, bringing Vayne down over the stragglers. "There are," she said. "They're reacting to Excalibur, I suspect. Asura can't have failed to notice him."
"About that—," Rei began, brows arching as he looked back at the Holy Sword, at the Grimoire of Reality lying dormant around Morgan's waist. Morgan shifted her free hand to rest over Cassie's weapon form, her expression growing briefly pained.
"Temporary arrangement," she said. "Very temporary."
"Heads up," Clark said from behind them, his voice sounding rougher than it had been a moment ago. "More incoming."
Rei looked up at Clark's words, his eyes narrowing as he noticed the group of dark figures shambling towards them, rising up from the landscape all around them. He sank down into a crouch, shifting his grip on Ayame's shaft. The creatures shuffled closer, surrounding them.
And then the lights went out.
Rei felt more than heard Vayne's gasp of surprise, Clark's sudden indrawn breath. He looked around, eyes widening, but he couldn't see Excalibur's light, couldn't sense Morgan anywhere inside this new enclosed space they were in. This was Asura's answer then, Rei thought, trying to control the pounding in his heart. Isolate Morgan, isolate Excalibur, and destroy them all in the dark. He felt his mouth go dry as fear surrounded him, the fears of his companions feeding into his own. His grip on Ayame's shaft went slack then tightened again, fingers shifting nervously as he tried to control his breath.
"You've got this, Rei," Ayame said, her voice soft and self-assured as she stared out into the darkness.
One breath and then another. Inhale. Exhale. Slowly, he began to calm. Rei nodded.
"I know."
He closed his eyes, shutting out the darkness, then unfolded his Soul Perception around him. The waves of his awareness spread out, bouncing off of the barrier's walls, returning to him. Six—no, seven enemies, all surrounding them. Clark and Vayne standing uncertain near the far side of their enclosure, blinded and confused in the dark. He reached out for them through their resonance, his wavelength moving over their frightened souls.
"Don't move," he whispered, muttering the words under his breath, sending his intention to them across the bond of their souls.
He didn't have time to see whether or not they understood.
"You know what to do?" Ayame asked, in that last moment of stillness before the storm.
Rei nodded.
When their enemies rushed at him, he moved.
As the first of their opponents rushed towards him, Rei ducked out of the way, avoiding the creature's outstretched arm. He flipped backward, out of the way of a second attack, and landed neatly on the ground, running to the edge of the barrier to gain some distance. As he ran, his breathing slowed. He felt his heartbeat start to slow down, a calm settling over him, his soul sinking into the familiarity of Ayame's presence.
"Assassin's Rule # 1," Ayame said, her voice so soft that only Rei could hear her. "Silence. Dissolve into the darkness and erase your breath. Wait for an opening to attack your target…"
The blade separated from the shaft without a sound, the two halves linked by the chain. The blade shot off into the distance, as Rei ran soundlessly along the edge of the path, Asura's minions turning their heads in confusion as they tried to track his presence. He wrapped the darkness around him like a cloak, moving through the enemies like a gust of cold wind.
"Assassin's Rule # 2," Ayame said, and this time he took up the recitation with her, following along with the words in his mind. "Transpositional thinking. Analyze the target in order to predict his thoughts and movements…"
He saw the enemies as points of flame in his mind, written on the inside of his consciousness. He saw the paths they would take like trails of smoke, an endless matrix of possibilities.
The scythe blade moved back and forth through the empty spaces between enemies, manipulated by the most subtle shifts of Rei's grip on the shaft. As it moved, the chain trailed along behind it, crisscrossing through the air in the small space and avoiding Clark and Vayne, who were standing still where Rei had left them.
"Assassin's Rule # 3," Ayame said, and Rei came to a stop. "Take out the target before the target notices your presence."
He raised the handle high over his head and pressed against it with his thumb, signaling Ayame.
The chain retracted sharply, the blade slicing backwards through the air as it snapped back towards his hand. As it moved, it sliced clean through the enemies in its path. Rei sensed them as they fell, in the almost-sight of his Soul Perception. One, two, three. Four. Five. Six.
Seven.
Black blood splattered around him as the blade snapped back into place, the enemies around them falling to the ground. Rei exhaled, his breath sounding uncommonly loud in the stillness around him as he started breathing again.
And then Excalibur's blade was slicing through the barrier that separated him from Morgan, light shining over them again. He opened his eyes and looked back over his shoulder at Clark and Vayne, who looked pale but unharmed, then turned to face Morgan. Her expression was grim, black blood flecked across her pale skin and the sleeve of her dress. She had an arm wrapped around her middle like she was injured, but as he moved, she started running again, falling into step beside him.
"What are we doing?" Morgan asked.
Rei didn't know. He looked around quickly, but there was no sign of any of the DWMA's combatants. Nothing but domes of black blood and the airship in the distance, almost too far to reach. For a moment he felt a wave of helplessness—had they really come this far only to die here?—but before he could truly panic, something else changed.
The sky split open, dozens of portals opening up in the air all around the moon.
And through them, through his Soul Perception, Rei felt something he never thought he would be glad to feel.
Hundreds of Witch's Souls, all pouring in at once.
The scream became a physical thing, slicing through Dullahan and the barrier that enclosed them. Light shone down through the gaps in the barrier as the scream faded, a feeble, faint light, as though Asura's presence was muting out even the sun. Maka looked up, peering through the faint sunlight as the child with the sword turned towards her.
There was something in the child's face she recognized, a shy, almost apologetic look in her eyes. Maka watched as the child lowered the sword in her hand, as the child's lips quirked up in a small, tentative smile. Then, she understood.
"Crona?" she asked, staring at the child in disbelief.
Crona looked out at her from inside her daughter's face, and Maka looked at them through the filter of her Soul Perception. Crona and Ragnarok's souls were there, both of them, entwined in the same sort of symbiosis that Maka had observed in them before, but Annie's soul was there too. It was faint, obscured by both of theirs, but Maka could still feel the traces of her wavelength, subdued like Rachel's had been by Medusa's but still present.
"Hello, Maka," Crona said, and the voice that spoke was her daughter's voice.
Maka slid her arms and knees under herself, pushing herself up to her feet. Her body felt bruised and battered where she had been thrown to the ground, but she had had worse before. She would live. Across from her, she saw Soul starting to stand as well, staring at Crona with the same expression of disbelief that she knew she was wearing on her own face.
"What have you done with Annie?" Maka asked.
"She's alright," said Crona—Crona! Maka still couldn't believe it. "I could let her out, but she's…sleeping, right now. It's better for her this way. She was very brave."
Soul approached Crona almost tentatively, stopping a few feet away from her—him? her. He looked Crona up and down, his hands in the pockets of his battered suit jacket. Soul didn't have her Soul Perception, but Maka understood his confusion. The being in front of her was Crona—there was no doubt about that—but it was Annie too.
"Since when could you do that?" he asked, finally.
"I learned," Crona-in-Annie said, her expression growing far off. She didn't, Maka noticed, meet Soul's eyes. The hand that wasn't holding on to Ragnarok was folded across her middle, gripping her other arm by the elbow. "I had a lot of time to learn things, when I could learn things…I don't have a body right now, you know."
"But Annie's okay in—in there," said Soul. "She's not…" He made a vague gesture, grasping for the word.
"Annie-chan's sleeping," Crona said. "But she's okay. I didn't—I didn't hurt her." She looked up at Maka, her expression brightening slightly as she spoke. "I'm not going to hurt you two either. I don't think I could hurt you in this body. Annie-chan…loves…you both very much. It's—it's warm." She placed her hand over Annie's chest, lowering her eyes to the ground, but there was something in them that Maka noticed. Sadness, and a little bit of wonder. Maka noted the way Crona had said the word 'love', like she—like he was unfamiliar with the concept.
"You didn't hurt her," Crona said, continuing on. "She never had to be…afraid, when she was with you. You never left her alone in the dark. She had a brother and a sister and a father and a mother who loved her, and because of that, all her memories are so…so warm." Crona looked up at Maka, meeting her eyes. She smiled, another shy, tentative smile.
Before Maka could respond, the sword in Crona's hand transformed, becoming the more familiar figure of Ragnarok. Ragnarok loomed over Crona-in-Annie, smaller in this state, arms flailing.
"Don't just stand there and talk, you idiot!" Ragnarok said, pounding on Crona's head. "The Kishin's about to wake up! You want to be here when the Kishin wakes up?"
"I'm sorry," Crona moaned, raising her hands up to shield her head. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"
"Ragnarok!" said Maka, voice sharp with alarm. "Please stop hurting my daughter's body!"
Surprisingly, Ragnarok stopped, drawing himself tall and looking over his shoulders at her. Maka met the Demon Sword's gaze, her eyes narrowing in determination. Ragnarok stared at her for a few seconds, quivering under the force of that stare, before turning away, folding his arms and tilting his chin up.
"Hmph," he said. "Whatever."
"Ragnarok's right…" Crona mumbled, slowly removing her arms from the top of Annie's head. "We need to leave before the Kishin wakes. My body…and Brew…won't hold him for long."
"That's fine and all," said Soul, looking around. "But—uh—I don't think they're going to let us leave."
Maka looked. The black blood around them had risen up again, a looming army. Her eyes narrowed, and she extended a hand towards Soul, who transformed without a word, still watching Crona-in-Annie with a look of uncertainty. Crona took a step back to stand beside her, holding her sword arm out to the side. Maka watched the small form with some concern.
"Are you going to be okay?" Maka asked. "Can you fight like that?"
"I'll be okay, I think," said Crona, looking up at her. "Annie-chan's courage is stronger than mine. And she wants to protect you, more than anything." She smiled and for a second, Maka saw Annie instead of Crona, Annie's face, Annie's smile. Then the smile faded, and Crona's eyes narrowed, her small body sinking into a crouch. "Ragnarok," she said.
A shiver coursed through Ragnarok at the words, one that Maka saw out of the corner of her eye. The Demon Sword unfolded his arms, looking over his shoulder at Crona. "Tch," he said. "Where the hell did this confidence come from, you little brat?"
Ragnarok dissolved, becoming a trail of black blood. It snaked down Crona's arm, twisting around it. The black sword formed in Annie's small hand, a streak of white down the center of it.
Annie's fingers closed around the sword, and Crona streaked forward towards the monsters, pink hair streaming behind her.
The black blood spread over the area, a swirling vortex in the air over their heads and across the stones beneath them. Kid leaped away as the blood started crashing down on top of him, Black Star keeping pace with him easily as they dodged rope-like whips of black blood. Kid looked over his shoulder at the warrior god as he leaped, a scowl on his face.
"Are you insane?!" Kid asked. "I told you not to attack her, Black Star! What were you thinking?"
Black Star snorted in derision, pushing off of the ground and launching himself into the air.
"You were gonna let her win."
Kid scowled, gesturing with one of his pistols at the swirling mass of black blood behind them, at the wavelength that was already spreading through the area, the awareness that was coming back to life. "I didn't want this to happen!" he said. "I didn't want to choose this for the world."
"I knew you didn't," said Black Star. "That's why I chose it for you." At Kid's incredulous look, he grinned, continuing on. "I said I was going to help you make the world you wanted. And if that means making the choices you can't, whatever. Come on—." Black Star skidded to a stop on the last stretch of clear ground on the island, grabbing Kid by the arm and drawing him to a stop beside him. "—you aren't seriously saying you'd rather have the Morrigan take over the world than this."
He gestured at the vortex behind them, at the mass of black blood, at their approaching enemy. Kid frowned, pulling his arm roughly out of Black Star's grasp.
"No," he admitted, fixing the sleeve of his suit jacket. "But I was trying to make the responsible decision."
"To hell with responsible decisions," said Black Star, shifting his stance. He pointed the blade of Tsubaki's Masamune form at the mass of black blood, waiting. "Let's finish this."
"I really should shoot you, you know," Kid said, leveling his pistols at the approaching form. In spite himself, however, he was smiling.
Black Star smiled back. "When this is over, you can try."
They didn't stay smiling for long.
Darkness rose up around them, the black blood swirling at their feet and separating them from each other. Tendrils of blood separated themselves from the gathering form, snaking towards them. Kid whirled, shooting at the tendrils that were closing in on him. The bullets tore through the blood with practiced efficiency, driving the tendrils back, but more of the viscous substance rose to fill in the holes that the bullets had left, the tendrils encircling him. He shot faster and faster, Liz and Patty's bullets filling the air, but for each tendril he shot down, two more took its place. One wrapped itself around his upper arm and he quickly jerked the arm away, droplets of blood spattering against the lesser black of his suit jacket. His cloak streamed behind him, ragged edges bleeding into the shadows.
"Black Star!" Kid yelled as he struggled to find the blue-haired man, the darkness closing in. He felt Black Star's wavelength flare from somewhere to his left, felt the warrior god fighting, but there was no answer.
And then that creeping wavelength filled him, like cold fingers seeping into his mind, grasping at his soul. He froze in his tracks, eyes wide, a voice filling his ears.
"Hello, little brother…"
"Kid!" Liz shouted, her voice cutting through Asura's grip on his consciousness. Kid jerked back into wakefulness, his eyes narrowing as his soul reached for his weapons'. What was wrong with him? He wasn't the child he had been the first time he had faced Asura. He was a Shinigami in his own right, in his own power.
The white lines stretched across his hair began to glow, a bright light filling the space around him. The light drove the darkness back as his weapons began to glow and transform, the wind around him picking up. His eyes started to shine, piercing through Asura's darkness.
He raised the cannons that his weapons had become, pointing them at the heart of Asura's consciousness. He felt that presence recoil and felt too the multitude of souls that had become part of it, engrained in it. Familiar ones, souls that he recognized. Maka and Soul, Shelley, Micah. Crona. The children that had come to the moon with them. Angela. The souls on the airship. The Assassin. The Morrigan. Vajra.
So much waste. So much pain.
He let out a shout of defiance, letting the blast loose. The light tore through the air, the black blood parting in its path as it shot towards Asura. The blow struck at the center of what the Kishin was, at Asura's gathering power, and Kid felt his brother recoil, felt the black blood pull away from them at the force of the blow. It wasn't enough—it hadn't defeated him—but the pressure around him eased enough to let him see the sky, enough to let him find Black Star again, to hear the voices of the people around him. Enough to let him hear the shout that came from above.
"Kid!" Maka shouted, swooping down into a messy landing. The heels of her boots dragged across the ground as she practically tumbled off of Soul, her hand closed around the dress of a small figure. Kid looked, his eyes widening slightly in confusion. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought the figure had been Annie, but now that he was looking at her closely, he saw that her hair was pink, her eyes dark, her expression completely different. Saw that her wavelength wasn't Annie's—it was Crona's.
"Maka, what—?" Kid began.
"No time to explain!" Maka said. "Sound the retreat! We need to get our people onto the airship!"
"Retreat?" Kid repeated, flustered. "But—." He looked back at Asura, at the dent he had placed in the presence.
"Asura's still trying to overcome Brew," the child at Maka's side said, and though the voice was more sure of itself than Kid remembered, it was definitely Crona's. The child didn't look at any of them as she spoke, keeping her eyes straight ahead of her and fists clenched at her side, as though turning to look at any of them would somehow weaken her resolve. "There's just enough power in it to hold him back for a little while, but it won't last. When he awakens, he'll close the area around the moon. And absorb the souls of anyone left behind."
"We can come up with a battle plan from the airship, but we need to get out of here!" Maka said. Her eyes were wide with a sudden desperation, and Kid caught what she wasn't saying—what she wanted to say but couldn't because she thought it would be too selfish of her.
My son is on the moon.
"Black Star!" Kid barked, looking over his shoulder for the ninja. Black Star had his back towards the proceedings, his eyes on the growing form of Asura and his hands on Masamune. He looked, for a moment, like a hound pulling at the leash, but he looked over his shoulder at Kid's shout. "Go make yourself useful and get the kids off the moon!" Without waiting for a response, he pressed his hand to his ear, activating the earpiece embedded in there. "Sound the retreat," he ordered. "All forces return to the airship and await further orders." He looked back at Maka, inclining his head towards Crona-in-Annie.
"Do you trust him?" Kid asked, meeting her eyes.
Maka's own green eyes were narrowed in determination. "I do," she said.
"Then let's get out of here," Kid said, although he kept his soul in resonance with Liz and Patty's, his shinigami power arrayed around him like an aura. "Get—."
He broke off suddenly, his eyes widening as he looked skyward. A thousand portals had opened up in the sky, a small army of souls pouring through them. Witch's souls. Spells started flying almost immediately, driving back the black blood and clearing the path for their retreat. He sensed Maba's soul somewhere in the mix, a bright powerful beacon, but he barely had any time to wonder at this new development before Kim was streaking past him, Jackie's lantern form trailing fire behind her.
"Kid, I want a raise!" Kim shouted, streaking past him before rising up into the throng of witches, her own healing magic keeping the black blood from touching her. Kid grinned in spite of himself.
"File a request!" he shouted back, looking over his shoulder at Maka. He nodded at her, inclining his head towards the airship.
Darkness snaked down the length of Micah's arm, black tendrils digging into his skin. Shelley took the opportunity to charge, ignoring her partner's cries from behind the veil of the tornado. She stepped in towards him, swiping her scalpel hand up towards Micah's face in one quick motion. He jerked his head back, his eyes widening as they focused on her, and as he stepped back, the tips of her scalpels sliced through the tendrils, cutting through them without breaking skin.
The dark power flooding into Micah from the Death card fizzled, but didn't fade away completely, the card still glowing in Micah's hand as he lowered his arm, his red eyes fixing on her.
"What are you doing?" Micah asked, his lip curling into a snarl.
"What I should have done," Shelley said. "What I should have done two years ago. When I found you with Luna."
A look of pain crossed Micah's face at the mention of Luna's name, if only for a brief moment. Shelley glared at him as she stepped forward, stabbing her fingers at his chest. He felt pain? Good. He should feel pain for what he had done. She would never forget that day. Never.
"Micah?" Shelley called, stepping into the small, darkened home that the two of them shared together. "Micah, are you there? Luna?"
There was no answer. Shelley frowned, tightening her grip on the armful of books currently clutched close to her chest. She had been gone for two days, a mission with Angela to the Witch Assembly, but the trip had been worth it in the end. The Assembly's librarian had allowed her to take some of the books from the shelves, and she'd brought a handful back for Micah, remembering how excited he had been to work on his new project. She wasn't supposed to be back for another day or so, but the Assembly was in session, and Angela had sent her home.
It was meant to be a surprise.
"Micah?" she called again, feeling a chill creep down her spine at the dead silence that greeted her. "Luna? Luna, are you here?"
No response. Shelley drew in a deep breath and activated her Soul Perception, searching the house. There was no sign of Luna anywhere, but her boyfriend's Soul Response was present, coming from the basement. She relaxed at the feel of it, letting out the breath she had been holding.
Working. Of course. When Micah was working on a project, she could have burned the house down and he wouldn't have noticed. She felt a small smile tug at her lips as she made her way towards the stairs, heading down into the basement. Dimly, she wondered where Luna was. The rapier didn't live with Micah anymore, not since Shelley had moved in, but she tended to come over to keep her meister company when Shelley was off on extended missions with Angela. Out running errands, she supposed. Or maybe she was taking some rare time for herself. Even someone like Luna needed to be alone occasionally.
The door to the study was half open. Shelley walked up to it, the smile still on her face as she nudged it open with her hip. She opened her mouth, about to say "Surprise!"
The word died in her throat, the books in her arms falling to the ground.
It took her a while to understand what she was seeing. When understanding came, it came in bits and pieces, her medical training putting the scene together for her before her heart could even begin to understand it.
The first thing she saw was Luna. The weapon, the girl who had never hurt anyone in her life unless she was being ordered to do it, who had never made a real enemy, was lying on the ground, her red hair arrayed around her, gray eyes fixed sightlessly on the ceiling. Her mouth was open, face frozen in an expression of terror. Her skin was as pale as death, blue veins standing out starkly against the backdrop of white.
And Micah was kneeling beside her, an unfamiliar card in one hand, a glowing red jewel at his throat. His other hand was wreathed in shadow. He raised his head towards the door, his eyes wide, grief all over his features. His eyes were red, tears streaking down his cheeks. His hair looked messy, as if he had been tugging at it in frustration. He looked desperate, lost. Shelley looked around, desperately trying to take her eyes off the sight, to find something else in this room to ground herself in, but as she did, she only noticed one fact.
There was no sign of Luna's soul anywhere.
"Shell—," Micah began, his voice breaking. "Shell, I can explain—."
She didn't give him the chance. She turned instead, running back up the stairs. He chased after her, begging her to listen to him, but she didn't do it. She locked herself in the bedroom and called the DWMA.
They came, a veritable army of DWMA operatives. She heard Micah's broken sobs from the other side of the bedroom door, heard the moment that he got up to leave, but she couldn't bring herself to care. By the time the DWMA agents burst into the house to find her seated against the farthest wall of the bedroom from the door, her knees pulled up close to her chest, he was long gone.
She didn't cry. She kept it together long enough to give her statement, to throw some things into a bag and leave. She didn't consciously think about going home, but her feet took her to the Patchwork Lab anyway. She had brought clothes, but had forgotten to put her shoes back on, and the rough stones of the city scraped her feet. She couldn't have cared less. She felt numb, like the part of her that could feel things had withdrawn so deep into her skin that only the cold and the numbness remained. It was, Shelley mused, the first time she had ever felt anything close to madness.
It was only when she was sitting on the couch with her mother holding her hands that Shelley allowed herself to cry.
Micah snarled at her, the tendrils snaking from the card down his arm again. As she stabbed at him, he stepped aside, grabbing at her wrist. Cold washed through her at the contact, a biting cold so sudden that she gasped. Shelley twisted her wrist out of his hold, the wind slamming into him and tossing him back at a flick of her fingers. As he stumbled back, she looked down at her hand, at the place where Micah had touched her. The skin around her wrist was starkly pale. The spot where he touched her felt like ice, like a shard of ice that had embedded itself in her blood.
Unbidden, her mind called up memories of Luna's corpse, her medic's mind showing her her friend's body again, in excruciating detail. There had been bruises around Luna's neck. Fingers. The skin around her neck had been paler than the rest of her.
She remembered the autopsy report.
Cause of death: Asphyxiation, freezing.
It had always been a mystery to her. She knew that Micah had killed Luna, everyone knew that, but she hadn't known how. Now, she did.
"That's what you used," she said, looking up at Micah, searching him, even now, for any sign of the boy she used to love, the man that boy had become. "That's how you killed her. You used that card on Luna."
"I didn't want to," Micah said, gritting the words out like they were part of a familiar argument that he didn't want to go through again. "If you had just listened to me—."
"What could you have said, Micah?" Shelley asked. "What could you possibly have said that would make any difference?! She found you. She was going to report you. Death, Micah, you were doing experiments on souls! Innocent souls. Anyone would have reported you. I would have reported you. She was doing her job, because Luna Joyeuse didn't know how to do anything else but her job—her duty." There were tears in her eyes now, but she ignored them, blinking them away as she stared at him. "But she loved you," Shelley said, her voice quavering in spite of all her efforts to keep it steady. "Didn't you see that? Couldn't you understand that? You were her partner for longer than we were ever together, Micah. She loved you and trusted you more than anything, and you killed her."
I loved you and trusted you more than anything, and you betrayed me.
The words froze in her throat. She didn't say them, couldn't say them, even now. Couldn't admit them to herself.
"Do you think I don't know that?!" Micah asked, sounding desperate. There were tears in his eyes too, and she tried very hard not to see them. "Do you think I don't realize what I did? Do you think I don't live with that guilt every day? I lo—loved her too. She was my partner too. If I could do it all over again, Shelley, I would, but she was going to ruin everything. Sacrifices needed to be made."
"Sacrifices?" Shelley asked. "Sacrifices for what? For your idiotic crusade against Shinigami? You really think the Morrigan would have been better?"
"You don't understand!" Micah said. "You never did!"
"Enlighten me, then," Shelley said, feeling her breath catch. "Explain it to me, because I'm having trouble understanding this!" She gestured at the gathering darkness through the curtain of her whirlwind, her eyes still on him.
"I asked the questions," Micah said. "I couldn't live with the answers. I wanted to see inside of people's hearts, and I hated what I found there. Even inside of mine. Order is a joke. It doesn't exist. The heart of humanity is chaos and disorder. It's madness. If Order doesn't exist, then why do we focus on it? Why do we throw away our lives for it? Why not succumb to fear? What does one master matter over another?"
"You'd rather we started murdering each other in the streets? Started consuming souls and creating Kishins left and right?"
"I'd rather we had the choice!" Micah said. "Can you imagine what it would be like, not having to serve the DWMA? Not having to choose between having our abilities stifled so that we can live our lives like all the ordinary, boring people around us or serving a master we never had the chance to choose? Can you even comprehend a future like that, or are you still too narrow-minded to even—."
Shelley let out a shout of frustration, charging at him. "Enough!" she said, slashing at his face with her bladed fingers. "I've heard enough!"
Micah ducked beneath the blow, kicking at her torso. The blow staggered her, sending her stumbling back, but she quickly recovered, charging at him again. His face was grim, his eyes narrowed at her as she rushed at him.
"Have it your way, then," he said, the Death card glowing as shadows wrapped around his free hand.
The black blood battered the edges of the swirling tornado, filling the air with an oily mist that made her nose and throat burn. Inside the vortex, the two combatants continued fighting, either not noticing or not caring about the presence rising up around them, about the retreat signal that even now buzzed in Angela's ear, about the witches filling the sky that surrounded them. Angela watched them with desperation, her eyes wide as she leaned as close as she could to the winds. Her throat felt hoarse from shouting at them, but they barely seemed to hear her.
"Shelley!" she yelled. "Stop! Micah!"
They ignored her, clashing together and coming apart again. She grit her teeth, tears filling her eyes as she tried to press forward, the wind lifting her off of her feet and shoving her back again.
"An!"
She looked up at the sound of the shout, seeing Mifune hanging in the air over her head, suspended in a tangle of floating blades. He had one hand closed around a sword hilt to protect himself, the other extended towards her.
"Angela, come with me!" he said, and she realized then that the blood had risen up around them, forming the beginnings of a sphere around the perimeter of the moon. Her eyes widened and she looked back over her shoulder, at Shelley and Micah, at the vortex that surrounded them. Mifune inched closer, his voice becoming sharper, more insistent. "Angela!"
"I—I can't!" she said, shaking her head. "I can't leave them! Shelley! Micah!"
The two of them ignored her, engrossed in their own private battle, moving back and forth across the enclosure.
"There's no time!" Mifune said. "Angela!"
She shook her head again, helpless. Hot tears stung her eyes, trickling down her cheeks. "I can't—," she said. "Mifune, I can't…"
"You can't help them," Mifune said. "You'll only die." She heard the plea in his voice, heard it because she knew him, because he had raised her and she loved him.
I can't watch you die, his voice seemed to say, Please don't make me watch you die.
Still she wavered, her eyes tracking back towards Shelley and Micah, towards the black blood that was even now encroaching on them, filtering into the tornado that surrounded them so that it was getting hard to see them through the gale. She hesitated, inching her body towards them.
"An!"
Angela sucked in a sharp breath and turned, her fingers closing around Mifune's outstretched hand. It had been an instinctive movement, but he lifted her up off the ground before she could stop to think, his free arm wrapping itself around her as the swords shifted to accommodate her, her feet finding purchase on the spines of the blades. The two of them shot towards the airship, slipping through one of the dwindling gaps in Asura's wall. She could feel the black blood reaching out for them, trying to ensnare them, but Mifune was faster than that, stronger than that.
She could only watch in horror as the black blood closed behind them, as her partner vanished from sight.
With both Rei and Morgan able to fly, carrying Clark and Vayne back to the airship was easy, and with Ayame's father holding Asura's black blood at bay, the flight was even smooth. The meister hung suspended between them, with Rei holding one of his arms and Morgan holding onto the other. He held Vayne's weapon form in one hand, dangerously near both him and Morgan, but Rei wasn't worried about Vayne accidentally cutting them. They weren't children anymore, and Vayne had a lot more control than he once had. He would never hurt either Rei or Morgan. Not on purpose.
The deck was chaos, but the crowd moved aside as they approached, clearing a landing path. When they set him down on the airship's rolling deck, Clark got quietly to his feet, letting Vayne transform back into his human form. He stumbled over to the ship's railing without a word, hazel eyes dark and haunted from behind his glasses. Rei watched him go, knowing what he was thinking. He was thinking of Elaine, of the dome of black blood at the crest of the moon, of the mother he had left behind.
He rubbed at his sore arms, feeling Ayame transform and stand beside him, her warmth a soothing presence at his side. She didn't reach for him, but she didn't have to. He could feel her there, the lingering traces of their resonance making it so that he was more aware of her presence than he might otherwise have been. He watched Clark out of the corner of his eye, wanting to help him but not knowing what to say. He was too tired, too exhausted to think of anything but the next step, and he hated himself for it. Vayne walked up to him, laying a comforting hand on his partner's shoulder, and Rei left the weapon to it, turning away.
The arrival of Shinigami drew all of their attention. A space on the deck cleared automatically as the reaper landed on it, accompanied by his parents and—Rei's eyes widened as he noticed her—Annie. Or rather, someone who looked very much like Annie, but wasn't. He looked at the girl through the lens of his Soul Perception, his eyes widening as he sensed the wavelength coming off of her. It wasn't his sister's wavelength, not entirely, but it was a wavelength he recognized, one from the dream he had had last night, before setting foot on this airship. As if noticing his scrutiny, the girl's head turned, her eyes meeting his.
He shivered and looked away, only to look back when he felt his mother's eyes on him. Maka held his gaze, concern and relief all over her features, and he might have gone to her if Shinigami hadn't started speaking, his tone laced with command.
"Everyone still able to fight, report to the bridge," he said. "Liz, I need a status report from Death City. Patty, find the Old Witch and see if she'll meet with me. Angela—."
He froze suddenly, his eyes widening as he looked in Rei's direction. Or rather, not at Rei, but past him. At Morgan and what she was holding.
"Why do you have that?" Shinigami asked. "How did you get that?"
"My uncle—." Morgan began, but before she could finish, the sword in her hand transformed, becoming a—man? At least, that was what Rei thought it was, but if it was a man, it was the strangest looking man that he had ever seen. Excalibur—and Rei guessed it was Excalibur, leaped into the air and spun in a perfect pirouette, landing in front of Shinigami.
"Ah, if it isn't the son of my old acquaintance, Death the Kid," the little man said, extending his staff towards Shinigami, who gave the man a slightly startled look. "Did you come to listen to my recitation? My legend begins in the twelfth century. When I was younger, I worked as a stablehand on a farm on the American prairie. I worked with a family, a husband and a wife, and four daughters. The eldest, Mary, was beautiful, but my favorite was the second eldest—Laura. I—."
"Enough!" Shinigami said, cutting him off, all while Rei blinked in confusion. "Excalibur, what are you doing here?"
To Rei's great surprise, Excalibur reached out with his staff, cracking Shinigami sharply on the head. "Fool!" Excalibur said. "Do not interrupt my recitation. As I was saying, when I arrived in San Francisco—."
"San Francisco?" Shinigami asked. "What happened to the prairie?"
"Silence!" said Excalibur. "As I was saying, when I arrived in Venezuela—."
Rei might have kept listening, eyes widening with growing horror, had Morgan not placed a gentle hand on his arm, drawing him back into the crowd.
"They'll be at it for a while," she said, her voice soft in his ear. "Come on. Let's talk somewhere else."
The team came together just long enough for Morgan to pay her respects, before falling apart. Morgan couldn't blame them. They had had their moment of resonance, fighting as a single unit, but the moon and Fata Morgana had wounded all of them in one way or another, and in the stillness that stretched between this battle and the next, they pulled apart to lick their wounds before coming back together again. Rei and Ayame went to their families, and Clark and Vayne vanished into the crowd, leaving Morgan alone with Cassie.
She found her weapon standing near the prow of the ship, hands resting on the railing for balance, her eyes on the moon ahead. The witches had set up a perimeter around it, using Soul Protect to contain Asura's madness to the barrier the Kishin himself had placed around the moon, but Morgan knew that that wouldn't last for long. It was only a momentary respite, to give them time to regroup and prepare themselves for the final battle. Even now, the lights were on around the airship's command deck, all of their commanders trying to work out a strategy.
Shinigami and the Thompson sisters, the warrior god and his weapon, the sword god Mifune. The Death Scythe Soul Eater and his meister. Maba-sama and her right-hand witches. Kimial Diehl and Angela Leon. Excalibur, who had forced himself into the discussion despite his repeated assurances that he wasn't here for Asura, and the strange creature that wore Rei's sister's body and was called Crona. As soon as they came up with a battle plan, the rest of them would fight, maybe even die, but not yet.
Maybe not ever, Morgan thought, if the grimoire had her way. She saw the determined look in Cassie's eye, the way her fingertips gripped the railing tightly, and knew what she was thinking. Knew it almost as well as she knew herself.
"Value yourself more," Morgan said, drawing up beside her.
Cassie sucked in a breath, her eyes widening in surprise. When she realized who Morgan was, she relaxed, but her eyes were still wide with fear, her face pale. Morgan pretended that she hadn't noticed Cassie flinch away from the sudden intrusion, keeping her eyes on the moon.
"You scared me," Cassie said, as if that wasn't obvious.
"I'm sorry," Morgan said. "I didn't mean to sneak up on you."
"No, it's alright," said Cassie, looking back at the moon. "I was just…lost in thought."
Morgan didn't doubt it. The silence stretched on between them, broken only by the occasional snap of magic from the witches that hovered in the perimeter around the moon, keeping Asura's madness contained. When Cassie spoke, her voice was soft, contemplative, as though she was barely even here.
"I could stop this, you know…" Cassie said. "All of this. I could shift us to another reality entirely. One where Asura was defeated the first time, maybe, or one where he never existed in the first place. I have that power. I could save us all so much pain."
"Are any of us alive in those realities?" Morgan asked. "Any of us at all?"
Cassie flushed pink, lowering her eyes to the railing, to the earth far below them. "Some of us," she said. "Not all of us. And those that are are…different. Changed. Those worlds are…entirely different from the ones we know."
Morgan didn't pry. She had heard about those other realities before, from idle conversations with Cassie, had heard about worlds where the accords had never happened, where Asura's quick defeat had made it so that the present Shinigami had never had to form a truce with Maba. And there were other realities, stranger ones. Ones even farther away from their own, where the previous Shinigami had never created Asura in the first place, where the DWMA didn't exist, where the Shinigami known as Death the Kid had never had a reason to be born. Those worlds were strange and interesting, but they were hardly her concern. She had only enough time to worry about their present reality, and about the partner she loved.
"It would kill you," she said, her voice soft. "You said it yourself."
"But wouldn't that be better?" Cassie asked, taking in a slow, trembling breath. "What's my life against the lives of all these others, all these people? We could go to a better world. A happier one."
Morgan studied the moon, shaking her head. "If it isn't Asura, there will be other threats," she said. "Other Kishins, other evils. I doubt there's a reality where every single one of us is happier than we would be now, if we even exist at all. And if it's all the same to you, I'd rather focus on fixing this reality." She eyed her partner sidelong, placing her own hand on the railing beside Cassie's. "With you."
"Morgan—," Cassie began, her eyes filling with tears.
"Value yourself more," Morgan said. "We'll get through this together."
Cassie drew in a deep breath, her hands squeezing the railing tightly. Then she sank down into herself, nodding.
Soul was standing with his back to the bridge's glass windows, casually swiping through messages on his phone. The look of boredom and slight frustration on his face made it look almost as though he were sending out invitations to a party that was definitely not his idea, instead of relaying orders to DWMA agents both in the air with them and on the ground. If it hadn't been for the fact that they were standing on an airship, just minutes away from launching the greatest battle in history, Rei might almost have believed it.
"So, what's the plan?" Rei asked, walking up to his father.
Soul looked up at him from over the top of his phone, frowning. Then, he lowered the phone, gesturing at the moon behind them with his free hand. "The witches are going to break through that barrier, and hold it open for us so that we have a way out. It isn't going to last long, so while it's open, we'll attack with everything we have."
"Bust in there and attack whatever we see," Rei said, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his uniform jacket as he leaned against the wall beside his father. "Somehow I expected something a little more complicated than that."
"You have a better idea?" Soul asked, arching an eyebrow.
Rei bristled at the rebuke, then blinked when he realized that it wasn't a rebuke at all. His father was watching him, waiting to see if he actually did have a better plan. The respect somehow made him feel more embarrassed than if his father was actually scolding him, and he looked away, fixing his eyes on the floor at his feet.
"So we kill him?" Rei asked, after the silence had dragged on too long.
Soul shook his head, leaning back to look out of the window. "Can't kill a god," he said. "At least, not that easily. Best we can do is try to pass on that power to someone else."
His eyes moved across the bridge, landing on the small figure standing with Rei's mother. Rei followed his gaze, eyes widening.
"Crona?" he asked.
"Best option," Soul said, shrugging.
"There's a lot of holes in this plan," Rei said, settling back against the window.
"Like I said," said Soul. "You have a better idea?"
Rei let out a long exhale, because Soul knew very well that he didn't. His father watched him out of the corner of his eye, lifting his phone again.
"I guess there's no point in telling you to stay on the airship?" Soul asked.
"You just said we were attacking with everything we had," said Rei.
"Point." Soul swiped his finger across the screen, and something in Rei's pocket buzzed in response. "You're with Morgan," he said, putting his phone away. "Do your mom and me a favor. Try not to die."
"Darn," Rei said. "Well there go my plans for the afternoon."
Soul snorted, but didn't smile. He clapped a hand on Rei's shoulder as he moved past, heading back towards Maka. Rei hesitated before following. Maka looked up as they approached, breaking away from her conversation with Crona. She gave them a tense smile.
"Five minutes," Soul said, nodding at her.
She nodded back. "We're just about ready here," she said. "Everything's…"
Maka trailed off, looking around the room. Her eyes were distant, as if she was searching for something that none of them could see. It sent a shiver through him.
"Mom?" he asked, at the same time as Soul said, "Maka?"
Maka frowned, her brow furrowing. Her eyes narrowed, continuing to sweep the room.
"Rei, do you feel that?" she asked. "Engine room. Near the power supply."
Rei drew in a breath and closed his eyes, searching. His own Soul Perception wasn't as long-ranged as his mother's, but it was still fairly detailed, and the engine room wasn't too far away. The doors and passages got in the way of his second sight, that short-ranged clairvoyance that had served him so well on the moon earlier, but he could still feel the steady pulse of souls beneath him. The souls of the crew, nearly masked by the enormous amount of energy emanating from the power source, and right beside it, almost hidden, something else.
Another wavelength. Another familiar wavelength.
His eyes snapped open and he turned towards his mother. "That's not possible," he said.
"What?" Soul asked, looking between them. "What's not possible?"
But Maka was already moving, heading towards the stairs at a run. Rei turned to follow her. The movement startled several of the people on the bridge, and the next thing Rei knew, they had a small crowd, all of them heading downstairs. He felt Ayame as she slipped through the crowd next to him, her shoulder bumping against his when he stopped abruptly, the startled engineers moving aside to give them room.
There were several barrels piled up near the airship's power source, carrying spare parts and important supplies for the journey. And one of those barrels was moving, wiggling back and forth.
"Bright Star—come on, stop squirming. I can't—agh!"
The barrel tipped over, spilling a load of small screws onto the floor of the engine room. And on top of the screws tumbled two children, one with black hair, another with hair the same shade of silver-white as Soul's. The assembled crowd stared as Maka's eyes narrowed, her hands moving up to rest on her hips.
Cori Evans propped herself up on her hands and looked at the crowd. A sheepish grin appeared on her face, revealing pointed teeth.
"Uh—heh heh—hello?" she said.
From the ground beside her, Bright Star let out a long sigh, burying his face in the screws.
In the silence that followed, Rei passed Ayame twenty dollars.
Omake
"So you need one large Dead Chicken Deluxe and a two-liter cola? Anything else on that pizza, sir?"
"Hang on just a minute," Spirit Albarn covered the mouthpiece of his cellphone with one hand, making his way up the stairs. "Cori?" he called. "What do you want on your pizza?"
There was no answer. Spirit frowned in suspicion, pausing in front of Rei's door. "Cori?" he called again, knocking twice. "Corpore, sweetheart? You alright in there?"
Still no answer. Spirit's frown deepened as he pushed open the door.
Rei's room was empty. He stared at it for one terrible moment, taking in the open window, the pristine surroundings, the lack of any grandchild anywhere.
Then he took off down the hallway, screaming.
"COOOORRRRIII!" he called, running back and forth in front of the door. "Where are you, Cori-chan? Corpore? Come back to Grandpa! This isn't funny anymore, Cori! Maka's going to kill me—oh no, oh no—CORIIII!"
"Sir?" a voice asked, from the phone that now lay on the floor of Rei's room, discarded. "Are you still there?"
