COPYRIGHT NOTE: I don't own Xenosaga, or the Biblical (Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse) reference mentioned later in this chapter.

COMMENTS: Welcome back, everyone! My sincere thanks to viewers who have come aboard "Bleed White." ^_^ This is my first multi-chaptered Xenosaga fanfic in quite a while, so it feels great for me to be back writing more than mere one-shots.

I'll be forward regarding this chapter. Much of Ch.2 is symbolic, littered with literary double-meanings, guess-again moments, and sexual undertones. So if you find this chapter to be "weird" (among other adjectives), do know that was my intent. Ch.3 should tie it all together. Nevertheless, I hope readers will enjoy the second installment of this miniseries!

* Content Disclaimer: This chapter contains gruesome and potentially disturbing content regarding mutilation and gore. There is also brief sex scene – certainly not explicit enough to be an anatomy lesson, but still includes the twincest trimmings: underage/incest/slash. A friendly warning for safety's sake. Reader discretion is advised.

Bleed White

Aiselne Nocturnus

Part II – Stained Innocence

He had these dreams – nightmares – periodically. The boy would find himself alone in a dark unknown place: a netherworld void with no way in or out. No logic, no light, and no anything, just him and this nonsensical projection of imaginary subconscious.

Once in a blue moon these visions came, resembling thieves in the night. Like sweet fruit gone rotten, his pristine white fantasies would be tarnished in rusty crimson. Disturbing darkness would become a blinding red: hellfire. And while red was an appropriate – destined – color for him, such never meant Rubedo took comfort in these nightmares. If anything, red was the very reason why he abhorred those visions. Why did he have these gruesome nightmares? The boy would probably never know, and Rubedo preferred to keep it that way.

"Heh…hehehh…"

First he would notice the laughter. It was not the jovial chuckling of children, or the tender giggles that could only come from the object of his affection. Rubedo's heart did not flutter whilst listening to these sick, blood-curdling cackles.

"Hehehheehaheheh."

Quite the opposite, Rubedo's heart slowly sank to his stomach, swallowed like a ball of nails scraping his throat throughout its painful descent. An icy sweat started trickling down his small body, whilst resonant cackles muted the sounds of Rubedo's chattering teeth. Throaty echoes overlapped all around him, surrounding the red-haired child in a maddening serenade.

His ears would be his guide, leading the link master to where his eyes could see the lone figure. Sapphire orbs would blink, immediately recognizing the frame of a child squatting before him. Through the void's blinding redness, Rubedo could see enough of the figure's features matching his: the uniform, the short hair…identical to Rubedo in every way. His back to the link master, the other child remained on his knees, aimlessly staring and digging into the ground before him.

Then Rubedo would notice the ground, concealed in redness alongside the rest of this bizarre locale. Black shadows would outline the curves and shapes submerged in the unearthly crimson. With each passing second, the link master's eyes would recognize shapes, patterns, features…faces…sprawled around him.

Just as his heart met his stomach, Rubedo could feel his insides begin to rise back whence they came. As if his realization were cue, the air immediately became palpable with foul metallic fetor. The more he looked, the more he saw, and the more he smelt, the more he realized. Half-bodies wept more blood than tears, grisly invitations to tiny parasites dancing across glistening membrane and exposed muscle. Gouged skull, jutting ribs, punctured skin, and pools upon pools of precious life fluids. By the time Rubedo's brain processed the disgusting massacre, the boy had already added to the mess by emptying his stomach. Being a bioweapon, he had witnessed war and genocide before, but…

"Hehehaheheahaheheheh…"

…But this was different.

The back of his tattooed hand wiped Rubedo's stained mouth. Regaining himself, Rubedo's eyes averted from the carcasses back to the snickering boy. The other child – U.R.T.V. – was buried waist-deep in corpses, his legs unseen amidst the putrid mess. Seemingly unfazed, the boy continued digging, apparently never noticing – or ignoring – the link master standing behind him. Maddening laughter escalated with each time his hands submerged themselves into the red earth. He looked no different than a child playing in a sandbox; innocent and happy…when in actuality there was nothing innocent or happy about this disgusting scenario.

Unwillingly, Rubedo felt his boots shuffle closer to the boy. He did not have to see the digging child's face to know his identity. Therein laid the reason why Rubedo's heart accelerated with each step. The dream's ambient redness concealed the giggler's hair color, warping everything red, but the elder brother knew better. Designer Children were not created to be stupid.

Underneath that child's redness was white, the broken remains of what used to be Rubedo's other half. Try as he might, regardless of intellect, the redhead failed to understand what happened to his twin. This ignorance, of course, was exempt from the obvious fact that Albedo slipped beyond Rubedo's help. Now the older sibling was haunted by nightmares of a mess he failed to prevent. What frightened Rubedo to his core was knowing there was a possibility this gruesome nightmare might happen in reality someday. Even Rubedo knew that once he died, Albedo – that is, the Albedo Rubedo knew – would be no more.

That is, unless Rubedo did something to stop Albedo. Perhaps there was no hope for Rubedo to eternally stay with his other half. However, that did not give the link master the right to leave Albedo behind in this mentally crippled, unstable, and downright psychotic state.

But what could Rubedo do? The link master could not even control the demonic side of himself that lusted bloody sights such as this dream's. The standard U.R.T.V.s claimed Rubedo was a monster, and though Rubedo vehemently denied such accusations, the 666 engraved in his right palm suggested otherwise. Surely, Rubedo would not be able to help anyone unless he first solved his own self-control issues.

And yet, Rubedo refused to cater to his own needs, partially because he was too afraid to confront his dark shadow, but mainly because he was more concerned over his brother's dire situation. Number 666 was the leader, and he was born to watch over his siblings. Considering he and Albedo were twins, Rubedo held an even greater – deeper – responsibility towards the white-haired boy. Based on the frequency of these grisly nightmares, Rubedo knew he had to make Albedo his top priority. The older brother's personal problems would be dealt with at a later date. Albedo was more important. Was that not the right thing to do?

"Hahehe-hahahehahah-ahehehahaheha…"

Aside the obvious, none of this made sense to Rubedo. Why was he losing his brother? What was happening to Albedo? Was this what might become of Albedo once Rubedo left him? But there was not enough time to ask questions, nor to seek answers. The bottom line was all that mattered. Surely, this boy was Rubedo's dark half…

…This boy, with his back turned to Rubedo…

…This boy, digging into the carcass-stained earth…

…This boy, carving into a body's ribcage, ripping apart squishing organs…

"Heha-hahehehaheheh-ahahaHahHAhhaa-AhahahahHAHEHEH!"

…This boy, laughing hysterically over the blood smeared across his lips…

…This boy needed to be stopped…

…Because this boy was a monster.

Deafening blood pounded into his ears whilst Rubedo's body vibrated to feverish conditions. His legs threatened to collapse, but the stubborn boy swallowed whatever putrid-tasting pride he had left. He could not be scared. Fear led to failure, and Albedo was the last person Rubedo wanted to fail. The older sibling did not want to hear these macabre laughs, noises that sounded nothing like the Albedo Rubedo knew. This mad child was not Albedo! At this disturbing point, Rubedo would rather put up with his twins' obnoxious whines and whimpers over listening to…

"Hehaha-hehHAHEHehHa-haAahehah-hHAHEH!"

They were not even laughs. Those snickers were anything but human. They were just…mortifying.

But like it or not, this boy was still Rubedo's brother, the redhead's half-heart. Yes, this boy needed to be stopped, but most importantly…

…This boy needed to be saved.

Indeed, Rubedo would save Albedo.

Manually taking a breath to steady himself to the best of his abilities, Rubedo then walked forward. The other boy continued mauling, enjoying a sick game of morbid dissection in hog slop. Albedo was covered in blood like a white rose concealed in crimson paint. At first glance to the untrained and naïve eye, the twins would look identical. That factor did not bring comfort to Rubedo, either. Quite the opposite, vomiting tempted him again, but the natural redhead persevered. Rubedo certainly could not expect to fix Albedo if the link master failed to pull himself together.

So the eldest mustered his courage and stopped behind his twisted counterpart. Rubedo's knees sank into sludgy ground, mush seeping through his pant legs and adhering to crawling skin. His insides churned all over again upon realizing the corpse-filled ground was lukewarm. Trembling as if he knelt inside a freezer, Rubedo took another breath, attempting to keep his mind off his red surroundings. Albedo was his prime objective. Remembering so, Rubedo's tattooed hand met his brother's back, attracted to the area the twins once shared whole. Only then, for a brief second, did Rubedo feel a sliver of his anxieties rest.

"Heh…heheheheheh…"

But once that second-long bliss ended, Rubedo's horrors returned…twofold.

"Albedo…" the redhead started, maintaining a level voice. So many emotions spiraled inside Rubedo's trembling body. He wanted to scream, or yell, and his stomach seemed determined to heave any measly leftovers. But none of those options, however tempting, could resolve this matter. Rubedo was the leader for a reason. He needed to solve problems without falling to pieces, a skill he had been trying to teach Albedo over the years. Weakness, trepidation, sensitivity…these were not options on the battlefield. Now was no different of a scenario.

"Listen to me. You can't do things like this." Rubedo knew what he currently saw was unreal. Something so bizarrely gruesome could not possibly be reality. The idea was to prevent these nightmares from becoming real. "And you don't 'have' to do these things, either," he reassured, before carefully drawing closer to rest his forehead in Albedo's unruly hair. Rubedo's chest pressed to his twin's back, their two left hearts beat against each other in awkward synchronization. "Don't do something you're gonna' regret."

Rare moments such as these always made Albedo submit to Rubedo's tenderness. Already, the older brother could feel his other half loosen, no longer fiddling with the corpse in his lap. Reflective calming reverberated in Rubedo's right chest, a clear-cut sign of his twin's emotions. Yet, oddly, Rubedo could have sworn he felt something 'else' against his right chest. The red-haired boy was unsure what exactly he felt, but it seemed to come from Albedo. But, that was plain silly. Only the older twin possessed beating in his right side.

Unless…

"Hehehehehe…'don't…do…something…I'll…regret'?"

Unless…

Blue eyes blinked, widening when he heard Albedo finally reply. Bloodied white hair stung Rubedo's uncovered irises, forcing him to involuntarily clamp watering eyes. He attempted to tear himself away from his younger half, but…something stopped Rubedo. Only now did he finally understand what that something was, beating against the half-heart in his right chest.

One beat…two beat…three…four…

There was a mirrored throbbing against the right of Albedo's back.

Only the older twin possessed beating in his right chest.

Five beats…six beats…seven…eight…

White hair dripped red…but the droplets never removed the carmine color from Albedo's head.

"Something…I'll…regret?"

And that voice…was not Albedo's.

Against will and odds, the link master stumbled away from the devious child. The slippery ground squealed against the soles of Rubedo's boots, his heels skidding forward while his back jerked in the opposite direction. Literally, poor coordination sent the boy sailing ass-backwards into the bespattered ground, the proud leader resembling a kid shoved into mud by a schoolyard bully. Rubedo suffered worse hits in combat, but sitting waist-deep in this nightmare's chambré necropolis still made the U.R.T.V. feel faint.

Or, perhaps Rubedo's dizziness was not credited to his vile surroundings.

Perhaps, what truly mortified the boy, was what he saw when Albedo's neck turned to finally face his twin.

Blue eyes met blue eyes.

"Something…I'll regret? Heheh, look…who's talking…Rubedo."

The redhead was right all along. That murderous boy in Rubedo's nightmare was not Albedo; not the Albedo Rubedo knew, and not the Albedo anyone else knew, either. Only now did the link master realize that maybe he should have worried more about the 'other' murderous boy who haunted his blood-red nightmares – himself.

Rubedo's twin…his mirror image…himself…stared at him, dark blue eyes burning into wide azure orbs. As if his fiery hair was indeed consumed by flame, Rubedo squirmed, attempting to climb to his feet amidst the slippery ground and his vibrating legs. More profoundly than a naked child doused in ice water, the link master shook uncontrollably. Rubedo's nightmarish doppelganger was his spitting image, and yet…the imitation could not be more dissimilar than Rubedo.

Rubedo wanted to wake up, but his twin never permitted him to leave scot-free.

Smirk.

The red-painted imitation remained half-turned on his knees, refusing to give the arrogant leader the satisfaction of full attention. A glob of wet meat in his hand, Rubedo's duplicate absentmindedly fiddled with the slop like a child with waterlogged clay. His icy eyes resembled cat-like slits, not the big blue eyes of the curious child Rubedo best resembled. All the while, the clone's face split into an eerie smirk, cracked lips forming a crooked line that was a far cry from Rubedo's typically confident grin.

Then the copy raised his crimson eyebrows and spoke. "What's wrong? Don't tell me you're…scared." He sounded like Rubedo, matching the leader's haughty tone, but his voice was darker, replacing brash youthfulness with a twisted sense of amusement. "Fear isn't a good quality for a leader." Then his eyebrows lowered and his gaze darkened. "Heh, not that you're much of one."

Gasping a breath of nasty air, Rubedo briefly choked back bile before pulling himself together. Rubedo handled far worse situations in combat, so surely he could handle a nonsensical dream. Besides, few things got between Rubedo and his pride. Ignoring the ghastly netherworld around him, the redhead regained his balance, attempting to establish his natural-born authority.

Not that I'm much of a leader? Like hell I'm not! Rubedo was the link master, he was the strongest U.R.T.V., and he would not be belittled by some ridiculous figment of his imagination! Balling fists, the redhead's arrogance overrode his anxieties. "What…what the hell's that supposed to mean?"

Unperturbed by the leader's self-proclaimed authority, the unfazed doppelganger shrugged. "See for yourself. Look around you. Whose bodies do you think these are, anyway? Daddy didn't build you without a brain, after all. You should be smart enough to figure out what all of this means." Then, the clone's smirk broadened to flash his copper-stained teeth. "Or are you?"

Never tolerating blows to his pride, Rubedo narrowed his eyes and clenched fists tighter. But not about to prove his observational skills wrong, the boy glanced around the gory panorama. Bodies upon bodies, swarms upon swarms… Rubedo felt as though somebody tossed him into a meat locker with broken refrigeration. He did not want to look any longer than necessary. Bioweapon or not, Rubedo was still a child with an impressive tolerance for bloodshed, but not an infallible tolerance. Puking once was embarrassing enough.

"Look around all you like," teased the phantom, averting Rubedo's attention away from the grime and back to his shadowy other. "You won't recognize any of them. These people are too far gone to be identifiable anymore," he snorted, conveniently swatting a nearby buzzard. More disgusting than this mortuary was the fact that Rubedo's copy seemed to get one hell of a kick out of this hideously immoral world. "Doesn't this make you sad, Rubedo?"

"Sad" was not the first word that came to Rubedo's mind. "More disgusted."

"'Disgusted'?" blinked the phantom in mock surprise. "Disgusted in what? This carnage? Or are you just disgusted in yourself?"

Proud as always, Rubedo retorted, "I've got no reason to be disgusted in myself!"

"Yeah right," scoffed the other. "It's plain as the nose on your face. First off, you're embarrassed as hell for feeling as squeamish as a little pussy."

"What did you just–"

"More over, it disgusts you to know this is all your handiwork."

Still reeling over the effeminate slander, Rubedo barely noticed his imitation's last phrase. But when the words finally registered, the leader froze all over again. Handiwork? Like it or not, Rubedo's sapphire eyes took another glance of the world around him. Everywhere he looked, in every corner, from here to eternity, lied sacks of bloated, scarlet flesh. And it was true; Dmitri Yuriev did not design his kids to be fools, so Rubedo easily unearthed the truth within this nightmare.

That did not mean Rubedo relished the truth, of course.

"Selfish bastard," the duplicate chided, still enjoying the sight of the proud link master attempting to stand strong in the wake of horror. "None of this would've happened if you actually gave a damn about someone other than yourself. You pretend to care more about your brothers, but that's just your excuse to run away from yourself. All you've ever cared about is saving your own sorry ass, your crappy excuse of a life, over others. Your happiness over others…"

"Shut up!" blasted Rubedo, poorly maintaining his maturity when his boot absentmindedly stomped a puddle. Red dots spattering his lower body, the leader winced only for a second before his anger drove him onward. It was imperative that Rubedo remember that this world was not real. If only he would wake up soon. "You're not me, and you don't know what the hell you're talking about!"

"Really?" Rubedo's clone inquired, still wearing that cockily entertained smirk that Rubedo wanted to wipe off his face. But before punches could be thrown, the doppelganger abruptly turned his head back around, staring down into oblivion whilst his back mocked Rubedo. "I think I know more about you than you do yourself. If I weren't hitting so many soft spots, you wouldn't be getting so defensive, now would you? It's dangerous when enemies can exploit your weaknesses, isn't it? I've gotta' say, you make it pretty friggen easy, Rubedo."

No truer words were spoken, which was why Rubedo gave himself a mental kick in the ass.

"But being scared is only natural, too," continued the copy. "You're human…technically, anyway. But it's more than humanity that makes you fearful, ya know. It's how you were made, and it's what you inherited, just like all your other personality traits. And let's face it…you are afraid, especially if your fraidy-cat twin is any indication of your inherent fears."

It was not the first time someone compared Rubedo and Albedo. Quite the contrary, it was very common for the Variant twins to be compared. Artificially created conjoined twins were rarities, so scientists were keenly interested in researching the results of this phenomenon. And since Rubedo and Albedo were not identical twins, it seemed only natural that researchers would notice each and every minute difference between the boys.

Yet, any compliments were usually in Rubedo's favor. Rubedo was the brave twin and Albedo was the coward. Rubedo was the strongest U.R.T.V. and Albedo was his flawed afterthought. Rubedo was loud and Albedo was quiet. Rubedo was self-confident and Albedo was self-conscious. Rubedo was the link master and Albedo was the weakest link. So on and so on. Even Albedo believed such criticism to be true, revering his perfected other half to be near God. In truth, Rubedo knew he was human, so he knew he was imperfect, and he wanted to be treated "normal," not considered a weapon or a god. Thus, the red-haired boy tried not to let such critical acclaim go to his head.

However, when someone compared Rubedo and Albedo, and claimed Rubedo was possibly as flawed as Albedo… if he had not let the praise go to his head, Rubedo would not feel so insulted, would he?

"Speaking of Albedo…" The doppelganger interrupted Rubedo's rage-filling thoughts, knowing the precise moments to speak before the link master shot off his mouth. "What about him? Admit it; he annoys you. The only reason you allow him to cling to you is cause' deep down, you cling to him."

His pride sinking lower and lower, Rubedo started to reach his final nerves. "Bullshit!" Rubedo let Albedo cling to him because it made Albedo feel better, nothing more. Sure, Rubedo liked being close with his twin, but the closeness' pleasures were just added bonuses, not Rubedo's prime objectives…right?

The imitation did not seem to agree. "Heh, the only bullshit around here is what you're pulling, Rubedo. You cling to your twin just as much as he clings to you. And why? Filial duty? Family? Brotherly love? Now that's bullshit. Albedo's just your security blanket to get through the night, because you're too chickenshit to be alone and face what you truly are."

No. It was Albedo who needed Rubedo to get through the night, not the other way around. "Just shut the hell up," snarled the leader, taking a threatening step forward. His phantom copy refused to turn around to acknowledge him, but Rubedo had enough of these games. He was the link master, and he was in control! "You can go ahead and twist the facts all you want, but your little game of mind-fuck isn't gonna' work!"

"'Mind-fuck'?" The copy mocked again, snickering like a pervert naughtily peeking down the neck of a woman's blouse. "Heheh, that's funny coming from you."

Not liking the imitation's dirty yet disturbing tone of voice, Rubedo dared to ask, "And what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"No reason." And yet, for no reason, the doppelganger chose now of all times to peer over his shoulder, showcasing a nefarious smile for Rubedo's enjoyment. "But tell me, Rubedo. What does it feel like to be loved?"

The question coming out of nowhere, Rubedo easily faltered. "W-what?"

But even though the clone asked a question, he seemed to already know the answer. "It's nice, isn't it? There's nothing more satisfying than being loved. And how convenient for you that your twin worships the ground you walk on. Even when people condemn him and claim he's your crappy copy, Albedo doesn't care. He'd rather see you get the glory, so while your head's in the clouds; he's the one who can enjoy the smile on your pretty little face. If you stand before him, Albedo will bow. Ask, and he'll say yes. You may be surprised at what lengths Albedo might go to have that smile all to himself, Rubedo."

Deep down, like it or not, Rubedo knew the truth. His twin's fetish never improved over the years. But Rubedo blindly believed that as long as Albedo's fixation did not cause harm to others or himself, then Rubedo would tolerate the boy's clinginess. Alas, after the incident between Albedo and the beaten U.R.T.V. Number 623, it was obvious that Albedo's obsession was getting dangerous. Rubedo dared not imagine what lengths Albedo would go in order to appease his unhealthy obsession.

"But I wonder…when was the last time you did Albedo any favors, Rubedo?" The tables turned, Rubedo blinked a gasp. "When did you worship him? Was his smile ever enough for you, or do you need more? Why can't love be a two-way street?"

"This isn't love, it's obsession." But just after the words slipped past Rubedo's lips, the redhead immediately felt cold. This drop in temperature was not due to his surroundings, either. Denouncing the love between him and his brother felt utterly sacrilegious. He knew if Albedo ever overheard such blasphemy, the white-haired twin would burst into tears, flee, and force Rubedo to chase him and apologize. Yet, though Albedo was nowhere in sight, Rubedo already felt the need to apologize for his words. How could he callously claim what lay between him and Albedo was not love?

"You're half right, Rubedo," corrected the imitation, much to Rubedo's piqued curiosity. "Albedo is the only obsessive one, not you. But you're right; it's not love between you twins, is it?"

Something squeezed the inside of Rubedo's right chest.

"You don't want things to be a two-way street between the two of you, huh, Rubedo? It's gotta' be all about you, and Albedo is pathetic enough to satisfy your selfishness."

That was not true. Yes, Albedo hated to anger Rubedo, and yes, Albedo often did anything and everything in the name of his other half. But…Rubedo never asked for any of it! Albedo chose to revolve his world around Rubedo, so it was not as though the redhead forced the younger twin to obsess over him. The haughty link master was not that full of himself. Albedo had a mind and will of his own. Shaking his head, Rubedo denied the phantom's allegations. "You're wrong."

"Albedo would die for you, if he could, of course," chuckled the doppelganger, although Rubedo found zero humor in the reminder of Albedo's immortality. No doubt, Albedo would die for Rubedo's sake, and such masochism terrified Rubedo. His twin was so terrified of being left behind, and so desperate to escape his immortal curse. Rubedo feared what Albedo might try in order to follow his beloved other half into the next life.

"But would you die for Albedo, Rubedo?"

At first, the question seemed stupid. The twins would do anything for each other, without thinking or expecting compensation. But in actuality, Rubedo's question was tricky. Would he die for Albedo? Perhaps the question was could he die for Albedo? If Rubedo died, regardless of the reason, Albedo could not handle it. For Rubedo to die for Albedo translated as Albedo being the reason for Rubedo's death. Then the white-haired boy would be riddled with guilt, piled onto an eternity of loneliness, and God only knew how Albedo's sanity would fare. The younger twin's sanity was already questionable, and Rubedo could not, and did not want to, imagine Albedo getting any worse. If Rubedo died for Albedo, such would ruin the surviving twin. Thus, the topic of self-sacrifice was too contradictory for Rubedo to answer. He would die for his brother, but Rubedo did not want to ruin his brother, either. How could he choose when all of his options led to disaster?

But the phantom clone did not understand, or heed, Rubedo's complicated thought process. "You wouldn't die for Albedo, would you, Rubedo?"

The accusation cut Rubedo like a knife. "I…it's not like that."

"I feel sorry for Albedo," although the phantom sounded anything but empathetic. "No matter what he does for you, it's never enough. Then again, he chose his path, so he's only got himself to blame. Nevertheless, you must feel pretty good about yourself, Rubedo. Few people are lucky to have someone willingly throw away their dignities for unrequited love. I'd imagine it's pretty damn gratifying for you to know Albedo would throw away himself, all for you, or lay himself before you, give himself to you, come…"

"I'm not gonna' say it again," Rubedo growled behind gritted teeth. Fingernails dug into his palms, fists trembling with fury as this dream's conversation reached intolerable territory. If Rubedo intended to exercise his authority, now was a good time to do so. Standing his ground, the link master felt angry enough to instill the fear of God into this asinine nightmare. "Shut the fuck up!"

Knowing he would increase Rubedo's rage, his phantom laughed as their sick game proceeded. "Again, your language is hilarious. Who the hell are you to deny any of this?" Blue eyes locked onto their mirror image, the imitation sneered matter-of-factly. "The only person you're fooling is yourself, Rubedo. You're on your high horse like always, not even realizing 'what' it is you're riding in the first place."

No longer possessing the patience to decipher riddles, Rubedo allowed his impatience to control his mouth. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I've already told you to look around." Only for a moment did one of the copy's blood-dripping arms raise, sweeping the area for effect. "Carnage such as this isn't the handiwork of a child, nor is it the work of a simple bioweapon. He who wields the giant sword will bathe the world in the color of his horse. Or have you been so desensitized by war that you can't tell the difference when you're fighting it or causing it?"

Another trick question came, which Rubedo stumbled to find an answer.

"Can you even tell the difference between the blood of your enemies and the blood of your comrades?" But just before Rubedo was allowed to think of an answer, the doppelganger suddenly lowered his arm, looked away, and broke into a small fit of disturbing cackles. It appeared as though the imitation concocted his own joke, and Rubedo doubted he wanted to unearth the punch line.

"No. Of course you can't tell the difference," snickered the demon, speaking in that lewd tone that unnerved Rubedo earlier. "You still haven't figured out 'what' it is you're riding right now, after all. Haheh."

Rubedo wanted to reiterate another round of "Shut ups" and "What the hell are you talking abouts," but he was not given the opportunity. This nonsense nightmare had to stop, but when he was in no hurry to awaken, Rubedo knew his only other option. If this was his dream, this was his responsibility to take control. Mentally slapping some sense into himself, the link master did what he should have done sooner. Sloshing through the messy surroundings, he returned to the doppelganger's back. Only this time, Rubedo had no intentions of being gentle.

"You don't need to be gentle."

And Rubedo would not be gentle. He never was gentle in the first place.

"If it's you…it's okay, Rubedo."

Of course it was okay. This was what he wanted, after all.

…

"W-wait…what–?" The unexpected tangent of thoughts felt like a literal slap to Rubedo's forehead. And before his clouded mind realized what happened, the leader peered down to his mirror image. Physically, the doppelganger looked exactly like Rubedo, except perpetually on his knees in the body-filled ground.

It was only then that Rubedo realized something he wished he never noticed at all. Every inch of the nonexistent ground was covered with corpses. Technically, Rubedo was standing atop some nameless and faceless victim. However, that also meant Rubedo's double was kneeling atop a victim, with his uncovered legs straddling…

"No…" Back and forth, Rubedo shook his head. Back and forth, his doppelganger – himself – thrust. Back and forth, Rubedo refused to acknowledge the sight before his wide eyes. Whether he was cowardly or not, the redhead had to screw shut his eyes. This was not him. This was not real. This was not something Rubedo would ever do. He would never massacre hundreds of people, and he sure as hell would never…

"But you are, Rubedo, and you can't stop in the middle."

"No!" refused Rubedo, clamping his eyes shut as virtually possible. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up! WAKE UP! Please! Back and forth, he shook his head to dizzying levels, back and forth. More than ever, the redhead wanted to open his eyes and be greeted with his twin's shimmering amethyst orbs.

"It's okay, Rubedo."

Normally, it was Rubedo who spoke such soothing words to Albedo. But now, more than ever, it was Rubedo who needed Albedo to comfort him. Yes, everything would be okay. This dream was unreal. Once he opened his eyes, Albedo would be there, smiling in his arms. Then Rubedo could hold him tight, kiss his forehead, and meditate to the hymn of their tandem hearts.

One beat…two beat…three…four…

The beating in Albedo's chest was beautiful. Rubedo's chest was an uncoordinated duet between two conflicting hearts, but Albedo's solo was more streamlined. Despite the younger twin's questionable mentality, Albedo's one heart was far less complicated than Rubedo's. It was Rubedo who always acted wishy-washy and struggled to make heads or tails of his emotions, but not Albedo. The white-haired U.R.T.V. knew what he wanted, no doubts or questions. Odd to think there was more peace inside Albedo's chest than there was in his head.

"This is what I want, Rubedo."

After denying accusations of selfishness, how could Rubedo possibly refuse Albedo's request?

Besides, Albedo was not the only one who wanted it.

Rubedo never noticed the disappearance of his doppelganger. Had the clone ever existed in the first place? The redhead no longer thought straight. His surroundings became warmer and wetter, consumed by red and purple retrovirus waves. U-DO? Fingers digging into skin, Rubedo gave in, tearing into Albedo from the outside in. The white-haired boy's face flushed red whilst the color ran between his thighs. Every time he winced, every time he whimpered, every time he moaned…the lustful medley hypnotized Rubedo. He was too drunk to realize reality, too high to notice the magnitude of this sin, and much too happy to care. Pain and pleasure, pleasure and pain…two halves of a whole as he and Albedo were intended. Rubedo got what he wanted, and he would give Albedo what he wanted.

"Take me."

Limits neared, and Rubedo's hands caressed his twin's harmonic, bloodied chest. The doppelganger had already dissected the white-haired boy, exposing his throbbing heart imprisoned within a rusty ribcage. The precious, tender little organ throbbed so innocently, like a baby mouse about to be captured by a hawk's talons. Half of Rubedo's heart belonged to Albedo, meaning half of Albedo's heart belonged to Rubedo, too. And now Rubedo could take the twins' broken pieces and make them whole again. Fully consumed, Rubedo plunged himself into his other half, claimed his twin's bleeding heart as his own, and took all from Albedo.

If it's you…it's okay, Rubedo.

This is what I want.

Because I love you.

The only reason Rubedo finally opened his eyes was because Albedo screamed his name.

End of Part II of III

A/N: My love of nucking futs nightmares never ceases. ^_^

Many thanks to readers/reviewers who've supported "Bleed White" thus far! I'm crossing my fingers and hoping next week's Ch.3 finale will live up to everyone's expectations. Reviews, questions, and related comments are always welcomed in the meantime. Thanks for reading!