Chapter V: Falling from Grace

"Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into the abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you." — Friedrich Nietzche


Fighting off the hoards was no easy task, and Ama could tell her companions were growing weary. Their bodies were worn and fatigued, but there was no time for rest in this place. Enemies awaited them at nearly every bend, and the place was crawling with horrific creatures waiting to pry the life from them.

Forced to move onward, Ama led Sebastian and Joseph through the winding, crumbled brick buildings as the hoards of Haunted lunged for them with claws and weapons alike. The two detectives stuck close to one another, one wielding an ax and the other totting a multitude of guns and a crossbow.

"Try to remain hidden,if at all possible." The dark haired female gently advised the two, her ice blue eyes darting briefly towards them, "Using the shadows to your advantage rather than charging in may prove life saving."

She needn't remind them that ammo was sparse here, and that every bullet counted. Wasting ammunition on an opponent that could otherwise be fooled or kept in the dark was foolish, and stirring up a commotion loud enough to lure every enemy in the immediate vicinity was a death sentence. With the urging to use a more stealthy tactic, the trio managed to take down the undead rather swiftly while sustaining minimum damage.

Upon approaching the tower, however, they were shot heavily at by a variety of snipers. A range of ammunition varying from harpoons to bullets rained down upon them, and they took cover in order to spare themselves from gaining any unnecessary injuries. Sebastian peeked his head around the corner for only a brief moment to see if the coast was clear, before a harpoon came hurtling past him, grazing his cheekbone.

His hand flitted up to the small cut, cursing beneath his breath as he pressed his back heavily against the wall they collectively hid behind.

"You alright?" Joseph asked, his eyes darting to the senior detective, who gave a firm nod.

"Fine." He dismissed gruffly, swiping the small stream of blood away with his calloused thumb. His gaze was briefly met by a pair of fretting eyes, and he shook his head, silently reassuring the worrisome female that he was unharmed. Had he retreated a second later, the harpoon would have likely skewered his face.

Breathing out a small, exhausted sigh, Ama clenched her jaw and took a moment to analyze their situation. Their surroundings were intricate and complex, and needless to say, weaving their way through the crumbled maze was a task in itself. There were obstacles to overcome, traps to be avoided, undead to sneak past, and snipers to avoid. Not to mention the ever so watchful gaze of Ruvik that she was always made aware of.

She could feel his presence every waking moment— could feel his prodding gaze burrowing beneath her skin from afar. Not a moment passed that she was not aware of his lingering existence, sometimes close, sometimes far, but always watchful.

"Six seconds," She blurted out suddenly, and both detectives craned their necks to look at her questioningly, prompting her to continue. "Once the sniper withdraws to reload, you have six seconds of leeway."

Sebastian's brows furrowed then, and he tucked his head down further when the marksman fired off another hailstorm of harpoons at them. He counted the seconds of silence they ensued after the protective metal frame slid down against the perch, effectively concealing the Haunted within and preventing him from being damaged. And sure enough, six solid seconds ticked away before another barrage of bolts rained down on them.

"The next time he reloads, we move." Sebastian spoke up, and his two followers gave their nods of consent.

When the opportunity was presented to them, the trio leapt out from behind their shelter, exposing themselves in the open. The seconds ticked by, and when the framing lifted and revealed the sniper, Sebastian lined up the shot with his scope and pulled the trigger.

Ama carefully picked her way to the flank of the detective as he fired off a round of shotgun shells into the head of the Haunted, and upon seeing the marksman's roost crumble and fall, she breathed a breath of relief. But like all blissful moments here, it was short lived. The idle hum of a chainsaw soon snagged the group's attention, and Ama looked as calm as possible considering the situation, while Sebastian cursed beneath his breath and Joseph ground his teeth together.

"You have got to be kidding me. I thought I got rid of him." The older investigator growled, his voice gruff and heavy with annoyance. The female program spared him a sympathetic look, resting her hand gently on his shoulder before urging him forward.

"You will find that in this place, those you deem dead are often times not." She enlightened him, batting her lashes patiently before she took on a more stern expression. She still felt incredibly guilty for having turned under Ruvik's influence earlier, and she was not so willing to sit back during this particular battle. The detectives had surely done enough, and Ama was determined to protect them at all costs.

Ruvik would not bring them to further harm so long as she had a say in it.

"Go and do what needs to be done. I will handle the Sadist." She reassured the seasoned investigator, and when he opened his mouth to protest, his brows clenching together in objection, she shot him a look that immediately silenced him.

"Please, Detective." She murmured, resting her hand ever so gently against his forearm before giving it a pleading squeeze. Her touch lingered for a moment, innocuous in nature, before she ducked her head down and faced the emerging figure of the Sadist, leaving Sebastian to regroup and mull over potential options with Joseph.

The man behind the mask roared violently as he swung his churning weapon down at the petite female, whose hair and dress fluttered wildly as she dodged out of the way. She was nimble on her feet and smaller than both Joseph and Sebastian, rendering the chances of a bumbling enemy such as this one catching her slim to none. She could easily slip out of arm's reach of this hefty figure. Her steps were graceful, elegant even as she ducked and dodged, honing her focus solely in on her attacker.

She pressed her hand against his back, her lips pursing into a bit of a frown as the corrupted individual writhed and howled. But for once, he did not evaporate into the shimmering particles of light that Ruvik's spawn always did once she purged them. This caught the program off guard, and she stumbled back, ducking under a particularly swift swing of the chainsaw.

Had Ruvik made this enemy stronger than before?

Two more times she managed to press her hand against the mangled man, and while he seemed to take substantial damage from the purifying caress, he did not fall immediately as he should have.

Meanwhile, on the side lines where Ama had ushered Jospeh and Sebastian off to, the latter of the two watched the battle tensely. He didn't like how long it was taking her to be rid of the Sadist; other figures she had purified with a single touch. What had changed?

"Something isn't right," Sebastian muttered, his eyes narrowing as he watched the increasingly fervent struggle between the chainsaw totting man and the delicate program. Joseph peered around the edge of the wall that they sought shelter from as well, the flitting figure of Ama and her opponent reflecting briefly in the frames of his glasses.

The Sadist managed to catch Ama off guard then, and she gasped as he slammed his full weight into her, effectively winding her and knocking her to the ground. She rolled then, wheezing out a strained breath as the roar of the rusted chainsaw hovered just above her.

The Sadist pinned her down by pressing his large foot against her chest, nearly crushing her and forcing what little air she managed to retain to squeeze from her lungs. Any writhing or struggling was futile— she couldn't move under the smothering weight. The masked man stared down at her with a hateful glare, a furious growl rumbling in his chest as he lifted his chainsaw to her.

In the distance, she could hear Sebastian shout her name, but she was too struck with fear to process it. Her wide, doe-like eyes stared up the monstrous man, and she briefly wondered if this would be the end of her. And if it was, what would death feel like for her? She already knew she was capable of feeling pain— of bleeding— just like a normal human. So would she be able to feel the cold clutches of death clawing at her, or would she just...seize to exist? She was only a program, after all.

Before her array of questions could be answered, the Sadist stumbled and roared in pain and malice, struck in the shoulder by a sniper bullet. Ripping herself from her grim thoughts, Ama was smart enough to recognize an opportunity when she was presented one. She jolted back into motion, baring her teeth in a surprising display of annoyance as she grappled onto the Sadist's leg, digging her nails into flesh and fabric as she dispelled the murderous figure.

But rather than dissolve into particles of light as those she purified did, he crumbled away into a sweeping wave of red that hastily retreated, eventually dissipating and disappearing from sight.

Ama's chest heaved as she caught her breath, resting her hand gently against her chest as her heart hammered beneath her skin. She batted her lashes in a daze, attempting to refocus her now swimming vision. Her head reeled, and a sharp pulsation of pain took root at the base of her skull. She cringed then, sweeping her hand through her hair as her surroundings began to take on a crimson tint.

"Ama!" A heavy hand landed on her shoulder, and she gasped and startled like a wounded animal, her eyes swinging up to the creased features of the senior detective. The program's mouth opened and closed as if she wanted to say something, but the words met a swift end on the tip of her tongue. Sebastian stared down at her for a long moment before looping his hand under her arm, grabbing gently at her elbow as he tentatively hauled her up.

"Are you—"

"I'm fine." She breathed, her chest burning from the uncomfortable, compressing force the Sadist had applied to it. Thankfully, the modest neckline of her tattered gown prevented her skin from showcasing the inevitable foot-shaped bruise that was likely already taking root.

The group moved on in silence for a while after that, ducking into the nearest building as they progressed onwards. Joseph called for the elevator, but it seemed to be caught at the top, stuck in place by some unseen obstacle.

"Looks like it's stuck at the top," He drawled, swiveling so that he faced the closest flight of stairs, "Let's look for another way up."

The glasses-wearing male darted ahead of his two followers, who were content to take up the rear on their upwards journey. Ama and Sebastian walked side by side in prolonged silence, until it was abruptly shattered by a firm declaration by the detective.

"You need to start carrying a weapon with you." Sebastian stated bluntly, his tone leaving no room for objection. Ama frowned then, winding her arms around herself as she coughed a bit, straining to get a full breath of air without the hassle of sharp, unwanted pains darting through her ribcage. Her chest still ached from its prior abuse, but she did her best to mask her discomfort.

"My goal is not to kill the Haunted, Detective. I'm merely supposed to purify them." She retorted as gently as she could, but the investigator stared at her with a hard expression.

"That didn't seem to work too well for you this time around." His response was expected, but nonetheless, she flinched ever so slightly. She still could not place what it was that had hindered her ability to send away the Sadist as easily as she had been able to do with the other Haunted.

She had a sneaking suspicion that a certain hooded figure played a role in this, but just what had he done? She mulled over the possibilities as she slowly climbed up the flight of steps, the train of her dress dragging heavily behind her.

Her mind was consumed with questions, and her gaze hardened in resolve as she mulled them over. Things had been going fairly well considering the circumstances, but ever since Ruvik had first taken possession of her and turned her against Sebastian and Joseph, she hadn't felt quite the same. It was almost as if something had lingered; some sort of parasitic darkness that had taken root in the depths of her being.

And suddenly, it hit her. The revelation was so abrupt and forceful that her eyes popped wide open, and she faltered in her steps, her face paling. Joseph and Sebastian turned to face her, briefly fearful that she was turning back into the monster she had become earlier. But she stood stationary, rooted to her spot with the horror of her discovery.

Ruvik wasn't making the enemies stronger so that they could resist her— he was corrupting her light.

Her purification process wasn't working as effectively because he was draining the warmth from her, leaving her with nothing to cleanse the Haunted and other oddities with. He was turning her touch to darkness, snuffing out her ability to absolve these twisted, tormented beings. The more she came in contact with him, the more he overtook her waking consciousness and reined her in, and the more he tainted her purpose with his suffocating acrimony.

He was turning her into one of them.

He had told her that she was not engineered to combat corruption of her own self— and he was right. She was powerless to stop him if he wished to drain every ounce of good that lay in her, and eventually, she feared that there would be nothing left. No kindness, no compassion, no sympathy nor will to protect others; she would become just like every other person that roamed this man's mind: twisted, deformed, and haunted by his lust for revenge.

What of her mission, then? She had been designed to cleanse this place of its darkness and to allow for Marcelo to continue his research regarding STEM, but if Ruvik turned her against her creator and allies, then she had failed in the very purpose of her existence.

His pale face flickered across her mind, and her breath hitched in her throat. That chilling, dangerous stare set her nerves ablaze, and she felt more on edge than ever before. She scampered back, willing herself to break free of his control, of his persistent influence, but he was quicker. He was stronger.

The area surrounding her changed instantaneously, and both Sebastian and Joseph disappeared from her field of sight. She didn't know where she was, but she was painfully aware that she was not alone. Footsteps drew nearer to her, and a marred face emerged from the shadows.

He seemed wholly amused by her distraught disposition, as indicated by the slight upturned corners of his burned lips. He paced towards her, and still she did not run, though there was a bit of a bite behind her gaze now, born from the frustration of growing increasingly unable to carry out what she had been created for.

"Ruvik." She greeted in a brisk yet still polite tone, as if they were on familiar terms now. And she supposed they were, considering they shared a brain by all technicalities.

"You still do not flee from me, yet you express visible anger. Thinking with our limbic system now rather than our cortex, are we?" He remarked dryly, his voice low and smooth. He seemed a bit surprised, almost pleasantly so, that she was expressing a disposition that deviated from her trademark tenderness.

"Still amused as ever by my psychological makeup, I see." She retorted quietly, and if the cloaked man was amused by the sudden change in the woman's tone, he betrayed no hint.

She should have made a run for it— tried to get away from him and put as much distance between them as she could manage, but she knew such efforts were fruitless. He had more control over this environment than Ama could ever hope to obtain, but still yet, she did not flee from him.

Despite her vague annoyance at her predicament, despite the fact that he had turned her against her allies and her entire purpose of creation, she would not run from him like he was some sort of monster. He might exude such characteristics, but somewhere deep in the depths of his soul, she knew there was something there. Some small sliver of humanity that she still hoped to tap into.

She had seen it with her own eyes— his capability of adoration and an otherwise positive outlook on life. She had seen him smile, heard him laugh, seen him enjoy life as it were. The only problem was, of course, that he had only ever expressed such sentiments around Laura Victoriano, his beloved sister.

But she was nowhere to be seen now, and Ruvik's craving for vengeance was only growing stronger by the hour.

"Tell me, why is it that you intend to turn me against my allies?" She asked quietly, the earlier bite to her gaze having dissolved now as she looked calmly at the man. Oddly enough, he was keeping his distance from her. She couldn't read his expression, couldn't fathom what was going through his mind, even despite sharing one with him in a manner of speaking.

On that note, she found it extremely ironic that the man whom she was most closely connected to remained an entire mystery to her in most aspects.

"Were you merely trying to prove your point? If that's the case, then I commend you. You have indeed proven that I am vulnerable to corruption by your hand." She continued boldly, though her tone had reclaimed its softer timbre. She turned to face him, and he took a few steps forward, his stride slow yet confident.

"I merely wished to test if a theory of mine was correct. You continue to defy all logic," He drawled, his burned, bare feet pressing against the ground in an impossibly silent manner.

"You are nothing more than an artificially engineered being; a program created by Jimenez to hinder me. Your anatomy and overall configuration is strikingly human in constitution, but by all rights, your limbic system should not showcase such astounding functionality. When I turned you against those two detectives, I hypothesized that you would feel remorse over your failed duty, you inability to carry out what you were designed to do, and nothing more." He continued, pacing closer to her. Still yet, she stood her ground, no matter the potential repercussions that decision might bring.

"Jimenez created you to purify this place, and if I succeeded in corrupting you, you would have failed said objective. But yet you strayed from what was expected. Your first regret when you regained your individual cognitive function was that you had attempted to harm the detectives, not that you had momentarily wavered in your mission." He mulled over his findings with an unnerving scrutiny, and he stood mere inches from the female program now, staring down at her with a mildly intrigued glimmer in his otherwise cold gaze.

"You continue to favor emotional responses over practical ones. Where you should be guided by motivation to fulfill your duty, you are instead led by sentiment." He explained, pressing the tips of her fingers against her forehead as he had done once before. Another sharp pain rocketed through her head, but she did her best to ignore it. The bridge of her nose crinkled in discomfort, but she met his gaze with renewed determination.

"I praised your work when I was otherwise naïve to its particular depth, Jimenez, but now I see that your system is flawed." His words were cold and unforgiving, and Ama felt her heart clench in her chest. The comment stung more than it should have, and she could feel moisture welling up in her eyes as she tightened her jaw.

It was insulting to be spoken of as if she were some sort of defective conception, and even more wounding for it to be said straight to her face. To be degraded and scorned as if she were some ignorant little girl that could not understand the bite behind his words; to feel the utter magnitude of his insult. He was calling her ineffective as a program, mocking her as if she wasn't standing right there.

"Forgive me for not meeting your expectations." Her apology sounded half hearted, her tone level and calm despite the emotions that were spiraling out of control within her. How dare he make such a remark. How dare he think he had the right to deem her useless and flawed!

"Jimenez will delete you if he discovers that you are ineffectual to his cause. You will be wiped from existence."

His words hit her like a physical blow, and she recoiled, her lips parting as his silver eyes followed her movements, analyzing each one. He seemed neither perturbed nor surprised by her reaction, and she blinked at him, exhaling tremulously.

"Even—" She began, her voice breaking and failing her briefly. She swallowed the lump in her throat then, scrambling to find her words again, "Even if I am unable to purify the Haunted, safety lies in numbers. It would be illogical to erase me from the picture when I can offer aid in other manners. Besides, I'm a part of your mind, he cannot shut me down without—"

"Incorrect." Ruvik cut in, "You, as a program, are maintained in the research facility. Just as Jimenez can tamper with Leslie there, he can tamper with you."

"You know about—?" Her breathless words died on her lips soon after they emerged. Of course he knew, this was his mind, how could he not know? She shook her head lightly then, her gaze dropping to the floor. This was the longest she had gone speaking with this man without walking away harmed, and she briefly wondered how much longer that would last.

"Either way, I am in no danger of being erased by my creator." She murmured. There came a slight change in the pale man's disposition then, but it disappeared far too quickly for her to be able to properly evaluate it.

Ruvik eyed her then, his expression neutral once more. The tips of his marred fingers slid down from her forehead and drug across the bridge of her nose, drifting over her high cheekbones, before he pressed into the soft and creamy skin. Another sharp pain overtook her, and this time she cried out, wailing in agony as her world blurred and spun. So much for remaining unscathed during this conversation.

Blood dripped from her lips, and those same black veins as before crept beneath the skin of her visage, tainting her features with a darkness that only Ruvik could evoke in her. She grabbed his wrist before he could complete the transformation, sucking in lungfuls of air as she stared at him.

"He will delete you if he discovers that you are just another puppet of mine."

Her fingers remained coiled gently around his wrist, and he wasn't making an effort to tear it free of her grip. He simply looked down at her as her chest heaved, her heart pounding with this new revelation.

"I will not be a puppet of yours." She whispered to him then, her eyes lifting to him, "I will not succumb to your will."

He didn't seem to like that response.

His hand suddenly ripped free of her gentle touch, and barbed wire materialized around her wrists and ankles, digging into her flesh and drawing blood. She yelped in surprise as the wiring restrained her, biting mercilessly at her tender flesh and scraping at it in an unforgiving manner.

"I created this world. I am the only one with conscious influence over it. You live because I allow it. Don't delude yourself into thinking that you have any control here." He casually breached her personal space then, and she felt a chill run down her spine as his breath fanned across her lips. He was close— god, he was too close.

"If that's the case, then why allow me to live? Why let me continue to exist if you know that I'm merely hindering your purpose?" She questioned, her voice surprisingly level given her current situation. His fingers had flitted to her hair now, and he rolled a silken strand between his fingers, unable to feel the velvety texture. His skin had long since been deadened to any and every sensation, but it still intrigued him to marvel at things such as her porcelain skin or her smooth tresses.

"Because you're mine to do with as I please. I will remove you if I so choose to. No one else shall make that decision. That is why you remain in existence." His words didn't do much to enlighten her; all it told her was that he had a warped sense of control and an unyielding alpha complex. According to him, if she was going to die, he would be the one to pull the trigger, and no one else.

She looked to him then, her eyes heavy with an peculiar emotion. She couldn't quite place what it was, and neither could he. He released the strand of hair he had been plucking at then, and it fluttered back down to her side as she looked to him.

"Liar."

Her whispered words snagged his full attention, and his eyes suddenly felt like sharp, silver knives, digging into her flesh as he stared down at her coldly. Her expression was soft, her eyes softer.

"That's not the only reason why you're keeping me alive." She murmured, and with a bit of a wince, she tugged her hand forward against the barbed wire, pressing the tips of her fingers against his cheek as he had done to her. His skin felt cold as ice beneath her touch, but she mustered up a small, knowing smile as she stared him down unflinchingly. Without warning, the small section of his face that her fingers pressed so gingerly against regressed back into a less damaged state, the scars from the fire he had survived withering away in place of healthy skin.

The restraining wires suddenly dissipated, and she stumbled forward, unbalanced for a brief moment. Her hand fell from his face, the effects of her influence immediately dissipating as his skin returned to its marred state. She scrambled to right herself before she bumped straight into the demented scientist, but it seemed as if it were too late. His hand darted out, and she closed her eyes, prepared to take whatever retaliation lay in store for her.

But no pain overtook her delicate figure. Allowing her eyes to flutter open, she peered up at the pale man, her heart stilling in her chest when she noticed the press of his hand against her abdomen, effectively stopping her from falling. His touch wasn't gentle, but it wasn't rougha feat she had otherwise considered impossible when it came to him, but she found herself pleasantly surprised. With that being said, she was equally wary.

She straightened up then, and before she could re-establish a safe distance between their bodies, his fingers coiled into the bodice of her gown, effectively halting any notion of retreat she might have been debating on.

"How very perceptive you are for a flawed program." He spoke, his deep, silken voice smoothing over her like a chilling wave. She still was not afraid, however, despite the fact that she likely should be. She merely gazed up at him, sighing quietly with a softened stare.

"It's a shame we're destined to destroy one another, is it not?" Her tone was hushed, despite there being no need for it to be. But he heard her nonetheless, and his grip on the fabric of her dress tightened to an almost uncomfortable degree. He remained silent, not particularly obligated to respond.

This entire situation was...odd, to say the least. They were close to one another, so very closedark and light. Two forces that were never supposed to mingle were colliding. Her sworn enemy, the man Jimenez sought to detain in this warped world, was not but a few inches from her, discarding her personal space as if it were nothing to take into consideration. But he wasn't attacking her, he wasn't sending her away, he was just...watching her, analyzing her and picking her apart to the most invading degree.

It was almost as if he were infinitely intrigued by her existence, despite his earlier scorn and blatant jab at her compassion. The light she radiated naturally was most beguiling, and the warmth she emitted was nothing short of alluring. But it was not enough to soften his hardened resolve. It was not enough to lessen his burning grudge. Nothing on this earth would ever be enough to quench his ungodly sense of vengeance.

But perhaps the key was not to snuff out that flame. Perhaps the fire just needed to be contained— tamed.

She reached out then, albeit very tentatively, before pressing her hand against the top of his own. She slowly relaxed his grip on her dress, but his fingers remained tight and stiff. She held her breath, fearful that if she even so much as exhaled in an incorrect fashion that he would disappear, glitching away from sight.

Just as she had done upon their first meeting as well as a few moments ago, she dispelled the gruesome scars that decorated his body, reverting him back to a purer form. Without warning, sensation and warmth suddenly returned to his being, and his jaw tightened as his stare hardened. He did not break contact with her, howeverdoing so would only cause his flesh to regress back into its seared state.

The warmth of her touch pressed soothingly against his skin, and it was the first sensation he had felt after countless years of being numb to the world. All of the sudden, he could feel her hand atop his own; feel the silken texture of her skin. He explored the feeling like a curious child, ensnaring her hand by the wrist and turning it over in his grasp, examining it from a clinical standpoint. She did not recoil as he stared long and hard at her unmarred flesh, before taking a moment to skim over his own repaired skin. It would seem that she held some conscious influence over this world as well to be able to change such things, but not as much as he himself did.

Her programming allowed her to purify and cleanse, which meant that by repairing his damaged body, she was reverting him backphysically, at least— to a time before the deterioration of his sanity. But despite all efforts, she could not make the conversion permanent.

His fingers ghosted against her flesh, brushing against the ends of her dark hair as well. His eyes were completely focused, combing over every detail and exploring every microscopic flaw that presented itself.

"You are aware that you will seize to exist by the end of this, no matter how the outcome presents itself?" He spoke up suddenly, rolling a strand of her hair between the tips of his fingers just as he had done earlier, only now he could feel the smooth texture of the piece. His curiosity seemed to be holding his more dangerous temperament at bay, and Ama was unsure of how long that would last.

"Yes, I am aware." She responded serenely, and his eyes narrowed slightly as he lost himself in his own thoughts once more. He was making mental notes, it would seem, evaluating her like she was a test subject to be inspected. He couldn't figure out what motivated her fearlessness, her empathy, and her overall demeanor. He understood the workings of the brain far better than most scientists, if not all, and yet he was stumped by this woman's inner composition.

He could pick apart her limbic system piece by piece; could analyze her amygdala all day, and still yet he anticipated that she would continue to surprise him. What had Marcelo done to her to instill such a fleshed out, functional system? It baffled him, and he was vaguely miffed by this fact. He had never encountered something so utterly puzzling, and yet he felt as if the answer was right under his nose.

He didn't have much longer to decipher this enigma of a program, if things went according to plan. If he freed himself of STEM with Leslie's body in tow, she would be left behind in the system, nonexistent in the real world. And if Marcelo discovered he was corrupting her, he would attempt to wipe her off the map. No matter who emerged victorious at the end of the day, he or the company that had turned against him, Ama would be gone. She was just a program, after all. A program with a fully functional conscious, the ability to bleed and to feel a variety of emotions, and to demonstrate them in situations, just like a human.

By every right, she conducted herself like a subject hooked up to STEM. Like someone who had a breathing, physical body to return to if disconnected from this world.

It was food for thought as he sent her away to another part of this twisted, dark world. She was distracting him; causing him to digress from his goals of tormenting the detectives. Keeping her separated from them was the wiser optionshe was too prone to leaping to their aid. Her reckless behavior would get her killed if she was left to her own devices, and he wasn't willing to see her light fade out so soon.

In due time, he would take that light for himself. He would sap every ounce of it from her until there was nothing left but shadow staring back at her. Her temperate warmth would vanish, and in its place, he would plant an evil within her that even she would be forced to bend to.

Her fall from grace was near at hand.


[A/N: My goodness, it's been so long, hasn't it? Behold, the chapter in which I fail horribly at character bonding time. :D Alright, so Ruvik is pretty hard to portray as it is, but trying to capture him in a more docile moment is...pretty tricky. So with that being said, I apologize if he seems out of character here. I just think that he has a really curious side to him, and seeing as how he reacted upon feeling the rain against his skin (I know that was Leslie's body, but I think the fandom has come to a fairly collective agreement that Leslie was not really Leslie in that moment. And going off of that, if that was indeed Ruvik in his body— he was smiling there!) I think that being able to feel what other things feel like would intrigue him because of how his burned skin left him numb to sensation. Also, on that note, I'd just like to go ahead and say that this will be a romance oriented story. Not in the conventional sense, per say— because it's Ruvik, we can only ask so much of the guy— but a romance nonetheless. With that being said, I really appreciate your guy's ongoing support, it really does mean so much to me! As always, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and thank you for reading it! (Also, I made an 8tracks playlist dedicated to Ama, let me guys know if you'd be interested in hearing it!) And last but certainly not least, check out this amazing fan art that Iamkatieisme did!

art/The-Edge-of-Hell-fan-art-501960060 (Fanfiction is funny about its links, but you can find the picture on Deviantart! Just attach this portion after deviantart's original URL.)

I'm still so in love with this picture, seriously. She's such a sweet individual, and I can't thank her enough for this wonderful piece of art! Thank you again, dear! (I will always be in love with this picture.)

Aizawa Mei: Ah, I'm delighted to hear that you enjoy the dialogue between Seb and Ama! I really enjoy writing those two, since Seb is more of a grim and serious figure, and Ama is more laid back and lighthearted. Hmm, what a wonderful question! That matter will definitely be explained the further we get into this story. Thank you for the review, dear!

Guest: Oh man, you complimented me on updating regularly and then there was a huge gap between the last chapter and this one. I'm so sorry, Guest! ;~; I hope you enjoy this chapter, though! And thank you for the review!

Jakob with a k: What an interesting question. C; We shall see, won't we? Thank you for the review, friend!

Guest: Well thank you, Guest! I'm glad you enjoy the way I describe the characters; it's good to hear such feedback, so I know I'm at least on the right track. ^^ Thank you for the review!

Savage Kill: All of these are good questions that I shall certainly expand on in the future! Ahhh, I'm glad to hear I portray the characters' personalities in an acceptable fashion! It's always reassuring to hear that. ^^ Thank you for the review!

Guest: The story continues! I apologize for the long wait; I hope this chapter was to your liking! Thank you for the feedback, kindly reviewer!

MobMotherScitah: I apologize for the wait, but here is the next chapter! I hope it is to your liking. ^^ Thank you for your review, dear!

Guest: I have continued the story, and I hope it is to your liking! Thank you for the review!

Sweettea1: Oh my gosh, your reviews always make me gush. Thank you so, so much! It's wonderful to hear such feedback from you, and super encouraging as well. I'm delighted to hear that you enjoyed the mention of Myra and Seb's love for her! My heart ached when I wrote that, but it was worth it, it seems. Thank you so, so much for your review, dear!

Guest: Ah, you make me blush! Thank you so much for your review and kind words!

0vertheloveofyou: You're too sweet; I'm glad you enjoy my story! Thank you for leaving a review! C:

Kat and Guest: I have updated, as you've certainly seen by now. I hope this was to both of your likings, and thank you both for your reviews! C:]