Warm, soft coziness heated the side of Minoa's face. Darkness wrapped her in her solitary egg of orange light. The dim circle seemed to be her guide, only working for her. Her white hair flustered, the dwindling shaft of a waxy candle glimmered holily as it wore its crown of light, a head of flame to show for it. The flickering ember was knocked from side to side, a speed bag of practice to the miniature, invisible boxing gloves. Softly, Minoa stuttered herself awake, stirring as her head rolled on her arm. She let out a drowsy moan as her paled eyes gracefully showed themselves. They awoke with a curiosity; taking a moment to recognize its surroundings. They were filled with sand, ready to be rubbed away.
Minoa took a fresh breath, raising her head slowly from her pillow of a forearm. The hotness dispersed away from the right side of her, a heavy feeling inside her forehead that begged for more sleep. Her eyes were not a bit heavy; her unawake teeth letting the cool air seep through its tiny pores slowly. A certain uncomforting feeling rubbed around her, slowly disturbing her. Her breath was hot, her cheeks were hot, the inside of her clothes were hot – everything was hot. Her legs were heavy, reluctant to move after a nap. Surprised that she had dozed off, Minoa forced the weight off her legs. She took a deep breath to clear her thoughts, feeling a bit unusual to wake up in the middle of the day. Right now, she was feeling emotionless, her bodily functions beginning to settle in again.
Despite her dysfunctional state, she started her first few seconds of awareness live and refreshed. Her body was, but her mind was not. It took her a while to realize where she was. She figured she had dozed off when Dirondo and her hadn't spoken in a while, and just observed Jeremy. Minoa's paled eyes glowed with hints of the flickering flames before it. The humble flame continued to dance its slow, unskillful dance, not the least bit embarrassed of who was watching. If only people were more like that. A blank, featureless gaze watched the bright flame, the most attention catching thing in the room. Then, it came to her – Dirondo. Where was she? Had she left the room?
Frantically, yet slowly, she looked around. Her hot hand's fingers tipped the surface of the cool table. Nothing but darkness, she realized. Feeling no need for a voice, she slowly rose from the wooden chair. Her back seemed too bent as she stretched her limbs, her seat screeching backward. She withheld the desperate need for a yawn, finding such a thing unruly and distracting. She winced as she brought her hands to rub away the uncomfortable sand. She took another breath, not finding enough to satiate her needs. The golden pan of the candle next to her filled more with the jelly-like wax as she walked past it, finding no need for it.
I can't doze off now, she told herself heavily. It's too dangerous… we don't know who – or what could – Suddenly, her thoughts were cut off. A loud metallic clang came from a direction, followed by a fearful, demonic growl, drawing her quick attention forward. She jerked her head in the direction, awaiting something to creep from the shadows. She cleared her throat to clam herself, taking a deep yet light breath to calm her nerves. "Who's there?" she asked, trying to get used to her voice. From the shadows rolled out a long teacup of olive green, some of the herbal drink spilling out like a recently closed pipe. It rolled with such skill – trying desperately to make a full circular turn. Minoa showed no signs of nervousness, nor was she nervous. She approached the darkness with meaningful eyes. "Who's there?" she asked again in a more demanding voice.
This time, a delicate, fair hand leaked from the darkness. Its mannered fingers reached for the long, wavy shaft of the bamboo teacup. It made no sound as its long, curved fingers picked it up in the most graceful way, as if out of energy. Together, they sunk back into the darkness, and a new figure revealed itself. Dirondo stepped out, her shoes lightly scraping the floor in an affectionate purr. "Sorry," she said quietly, as if trying to keep the volume down, trying to keep someone – something to continue being unaware of her presence.
"How is he doing?" Minoa asked, relaxing herself further as she approached her council mate. She entered her mind for just a second to make sure it was her. In this world, you can't assume anything anymore, and you have to be completely prepared at all times for anything, because in here, the impossibilities became possible. Her shoulders dropped at their sockets, relaxing them as assurance entered Minoa's mind. Now, she awaited her dreaded answer.
Dirondo seemed to hesitate. "He…" she began, unsure of what to say. "I really don't know how to say this," she said, peering to the right corner of her eye. She refused to make direct eye contact for who knows why. She tapped her foot nervously behind her as her arms held each other behind her back.
"He's not dead?" Minoa said, anxiety replacing her heart beat. "Is he?" she said with completion, swallowing hard for the result. She felt no time to clench her fist and grit her teeth.
"No, of course not," Dirondo replied, returning her eyes to Minoa. The Mind Council sighed in relief as Dirondo made an undecipherable look on her face. "I just can't really tell if he's gotten worse or better," she explained. "The time intervals for the black holes are getting longer and longer, which is good, but he's getting more beast-like. I think he's losing his grip," she told her.
"I see…" Minoa said, peering past Dirondo's shoulder. With a tiresome grumble, Minoa walked past her council mate, and the blonde followed. Their aura of light continued to praise them with sight as it rubbed off on the golden gates with their thin, thread-like bars of restraint. Minoa ran her fingers over the seal that locked the middle of the gate, the fresh painted blood having an already dried and ancient look. She was careful not to disrupt the Japanese character's structures as she looking into the darkness. She found a pair of dark, ebony eyes that narrowed evilly. Pale strands of white hair showed themselves, too, unafraid. An unwanted grin somehow made its way through as well, the tip of a chin showing. Minoa felt shivers start all over. I can't believe that became this much worse than we expected it to be in such a short amount of time. Normally, our prediction was for him to be like this in at least twenty years. He's only done this in days since the Minors finished training with us. If he's not who we think he is… then what is he?
"Can you see how he's doing?" Dirondo suddenly asked. Her question took Minoa by surprise, forcing her head to turn back. The Mind Council gave a puzzled look. "I mean, on the inside," Dirondo cleared up. Minoa nodded and turned back, having a sense of understanding.
Tracing her fingers down the cool, golden imprisoning strings, Minoa shook off her goose bumps. She calmed herself, breathing through her nostrils as she closed her eyes, focusing. With a burst of energy, she reopened her eyes, as if she were about to fight, and the pentacle eyes returned to the pale orbs. "Joukei no Ankoku! Yoshiki Ichi! –Sight of Darkness! Form One!-" Minoa declared as the black starred eyes peered right into the darkness. With another burst of energy, she furthered her technique. "Yoshiki Ni! –Form Two-" With that declaration, a large dark traced pentacle grew on her forehead like an embellishment of makeup, something she never used. "Yoshiki San! –Form Three!-" Minoa declared once more, this time, claw like patterns growing from her jaws and stretching through her cheeks. The kanji character for comfort showed on the back of her neck, hidden behind her wave of hair.
I'll have to be careful at this stage, Minoa told herself. If I go any further, it gets dangerous. This is my limit, she told herself strictly as the burning sensation of the effects on her face wore off. "Miroku Shuzoku: Hireki Hiou! –Miroku Family: Revealed Secrets!-" With her last burst of energy, Minoa's eyes and darkened patterns on her face began to intensify, glowing with an intense blue energy. Her eyes seemed to pierce through the darkness, dividing it in her disgraced appearance. She looked right through the darkness, right into Jeremy's own disgraceful appearance, and began at the first later of his mind. With this, I'll enter through the layers that compose his inner thoughts and consciousness, and I'll have a better understanding of what's going on.
Flashing blues and greens faced themselves in front of her, until she was completely consumed by a white light, the intense, hot glow overeating her. Then, with a knock of sense, it spit her out, as if giving a hard hit to the side of her face. She cried out in pain as she was forced to squint her eyes, the darkened patterns on her face sinking backward into her eyes. She stumbled on her feet, Dirondo catching her by the arms.
Lying in Dirondo's hands, Minoa began to speak weakly, as if she had just gotten up from another nap. "He's… having trouble," she explained. Dirondo flashed her turn of a puzzled face. "There's interference," she said weakly, her voice beginning to rasp outward from her resistant lips. "It's… it's too much to take in… he's in too much danger right now. I don't know how long…" Minoa seemed to trail off. She tried hard to keep her consciousness up. "How long until he finally breaks down… I can only see into him just enough to see his supports." Dirondo nodded, satisfied. She brought Minoa up to her feet, and decided to let her lay down.
PoVS
Tension rose. No sense of protection was hinted anywhere. No feeling of safety found. Eric held his arms in front of him, as if to block out the sun's intensifying light. Ashes and black, threatening puffs of smoke tried to eat at him. Without a feeling of protection, normal people would feel somewhat scared- unable to move. But it was different for Eric. Long ago, he had decided that he was the sense of protection. He wouldn't let someone else take over his job. It was his purpose.
Eric let his arms fall back to his sides, readied just in case he needed them once more. A strong humming surrounded him as his eyes were completely clouded in the rising smoke that seemed to always last. His squinted eyes uneasy as they looked from left to right to give his teammates a sense of their protection, he looked to his feet. The red clothed boy found silver energy at his feet. It seemed to disperse away, forming a defensive circle around him. It withered away smoothly, as if to whisper to Eric, "I was never here," and just disappeared into nothingness again. What… is that? Eric asked himself.
Suddenly, a loud coughing caught his attention. Eric peered to his left finding Mark covering his mouth with his arm, hacking into it in the most retching way ever. His eyes squinted hard from the overwhelming force of his coughs. "Eric…" he groaned out in an uneasy voice. "Where's Walter…?" he said, coughing between words. His loud bursts seemed to give no comfort. Eric had his eyes fixed on Mark's feet that seemed to have the exact silver glow around them he had noticed on his own as he carefully deciphered his teammate's words. Then it suddenly hit him.
Walter! Eric realized. The Fire Minor widened his eyes as he peered to his right, hoping to find his friend. He tried to decide if he should run aimlessly through the smoke searching for him, but he knew that was a waste of energy – and leaving Mark here in his current condition would take away his sense of protection. How could he be both for Walter and Mark at the same time?
In another part of the fogging smoke, Walter seemed to be the least bit tired. His brown hair was ruffled, yet he didn't care. His arms hung limp from his shoulders, he took heavy breaths, feeling the silver, half-transparent energy sink back into him like needles slowly injecting their bodies into your skin – your veins. Damn it… he thought weakly as the glowering energy faded back into him. I was able to rescue the whole team, but… if I had to go to such lengths and use such a thing that I forbid myself… I may not be able to beat those two, he told himself as he imaged their smirking, impatient faces. Sanshouuo's furious, intolerant eyes of bloody red and Gaia's entertained, carefree eyes of disregard. I may not be able to… he began to repeat in his mind again. No! He told himself in a scolding voice. I can't think like that. Not here, not now. If I can't beat these two… then I can't beat them…he gave himself pep talk, the image of Gaia and Sanshouuo turning into shady characters with demonic, starry eyes. A whole bunch of them faced different directions, representing the hardcore faces of Void Core.
He clenched his fist tightly as his body dropped downward, his legs tired yet refusing to be. I made a promise to myself, he reminded his own spirit. That I would definitely kill each and every one of them… no matter how I gain that power. Right now, I'm weak… but, I have enough potential to beat these guys. I have enough power to show that I can beat, kill these guys. I'm not giving up! I'm not losing here! Walter demanded of himself. I'll do it, he concluded. I'll do it if I have to. I'll use that move. As long as it shows them that I can beat them. As long as it shows them that I'm not weak, and that I do have a purpose! And that purpose isn't just some resolution unable to be kept! Walter felt the anger rise in himself as his teeth grit against each other tightly. He forced it and forced it until it became painful. He had enough heavy breathing for now. His confidence was taken even further. I'll kill them! Walter promised himself. Inside, another half of him seemed to smirk, delighted and amused. Silver energy began to pour outward from his body again.
Outside the float of smoke, Sanshouuo and Gaia waited impatiently, both for different reasons. Sanshouuo wanted to get the job over with. He knew he would be mad. Gaia just seemed to want to enjoy a kill. But it seemed so hard to even get that nowadays. "Not yet. They're not dead yet," Sanshouuo grumbled irritably.
"Damn it," Gaia commented back in a rising, angry voice. He gritted his teeth and narrowed his eyes into hateful slits. "They just won't die!"
"He's going to be mad," Sanshouuo reminded Gaia. "Let's end this," the red-eyed one suggested. Gaia nodded. "Atusa Hangan! –Heat Bullets-" Sanshouuo cried out as he waved a blast of his hand, pellets of blistering heat bursting outward into the air like a parade of hissing attacks.
The sizzling pieces of intense hotness shuffled into the cloud of smoke, making a surefire hit. Cries of surprise and pain flew out of the smoke as the three teammates were knocked backward towards each other. Damn it! Walter thought as he gritted his teeth tighter. The three boys rolled in the dust, getting smoke and ash all over their bodies. "Die!" Gaia demanded into the smoke. "Chiri Rantouba! –Dirt Cemetery-"
Mark was the only one cried out, the other two taken by surprise as the dirt behind their backs wrapped around them in a coffin, burying over them as if they were memories long wanted to be forgotten. Muffled cries from Mark's dirt pile sounded from underneath the brownness, the banging of fists echoing outward in a helpless S.O.S. "Not yet!" Sanshouuo cried out, waving his arms once more in the air. With a helpless cry, Mark's wishes were granted. Taken by surprise, a loud explosion came from each dirt bed the three Minors found themselves under, blowing dirt all over the air above them as their bodies were flung into the air from the explosion.
All three made helpless cries and shocked, widened faces as they were overtaken, their bodies now zooming through the air and landing further towards the trees. More dust and smoke piled towards the sky, the unwanted opposites of clouds finding no direction to go but a reluctant ascent. Trees rustled excitedly as the battle intensified more and more, more sweat and more blood pouring from everyone. Hailing pieces of dirt came raining downward like an early shower. The drops of brown began to cake against the three teammate's clothes. Mark was the only one who seemed to care. "What's this feeling?" Mark asked as he looked at his hand. The tanned skin was being layered over with a bubbling sensation, a sizzling feeling that took over him like a visible infection that spread like the fastest poison. Hotness soon wrapped around him, and he could feel the light breezes of the wind no more.
The hotness wrapped around all three Minors, and as the last cloud of dust climbed away to join its fellows, the grinning face of Gaia and the irritated one of Sanshouuo appeared from far away. "Don't try to move too much in those," Sanshouuo threatened. "If you do, you'll be blown to pieces. Those coats of heat are very friction-sensitive, and one strong movement or even one deep breath will blow your bodies to bits," he explained.
Eric and Mark widened their stares. "Nice try, but not me," Walter scolded as he got up to his feet, climbing slowly as he found his legs unsteady. Walter looked up to meet glares with Sanshouuo. As the hot, blurry coat slid off of his arms and body like unwanted slime, wet skin replaced it, and carried the heat away.
Damn it, Sanshouuo narrowed his eyes into mean stripes of belittlement. He wiped away the blanket of heat with water. "Why don't you just stay like that and die! You annoying brat!" Sanshouuo shouted angrily, annoyed at how much he could avoid the techniques they threw at them. Eric and Mark stood completely still, keeping their eyes on Walter. They were careful not to make any sudden movements that would cause their death. Mark swallowed uneasily. Eric seemed much calmer than he. "I told you before, didn't I?" Walter replied. He caught the attention of Sanshouuo and his brother. "I said I'd kill you if you got in the way of my purpose!" Walter said with a loud, confident voice, picking up his glance to lock his with Sanshouuo's. It was hard to tell which one's was more intense and filled with murderous attempt. "I won't let a weakling like you get in my way!" Walter mocked, his body seeming weak yet his voice showing no signs of it. His brown eyes were filled with deep, unforgettable meaning.
"That's unusual talk for someone who's talking about himself," Gaia commented back. Walter decided not to waste his time with a verbal argument. It was time to settle this with pain. Physical pain. And even though Walter knew inner pain hurt more, inflicting outer pain was the fastest – and more active way of killing. It was pointless now to fight with words.
"I'll kill you," was the last thing Walter said as the silver energy began to intensify at his arms, and took over him like an outlined cartoon completely. The ominous glow gave everyone in the scene a curious look to them, no matter how small, you had to admit that you were thinking the exact same though as everyone else: Just what is that silver energy?