In an age now found only in myth and long since buried in the shifting sands of time, there lived a man who dedicated his life to mastering every fighting art of the world. His expertise with weapons is described in such high esteem that his skills could be compared with that of legendary heroes past and present, from East and West. In fact, his abilities may even surpass the talents of all who ever lived before him or after him.
The era in which this legendary warrior lived was a time of endless tribal warfare, and the troubled world around him desired a hero, a savior – but this man had no interest in the affairs of the world. He found meaning in strength alone. The people were in awe of him, but he paid no attention to their words of praise, concerned only with honing his skills.
By the time this warrior had reached manhood, there was no human being on earth who could challenge him. With one single exception that had ended in a draw, he could boast that he had been undefeated in the countless duels he had fought. And so, to seek a force that could challenge him, he turned his eyes to those with greater power – the gods.
It was said that the god of war observed the world through the eyes of owls. The warrior began to hunt and kill nocturnal birds of prey, expecting the creatures to possess the strength of their master. While common owls did not hold such power, the warrior eventually encountered a servant of Ares that was imbued with the war god's power. The warrior defeated the servant and severed its owl-like head as proof of his victory. However, the people did not extol his achievement, for they feared the wrath of the gods.
The gods' wrath did come, as swift and harsh as a wave crashing upon the shore. A curse was laid upon the warrior – when touched by the light of the moon and the stars, his head would transform from human to owl, and back again with the dawn. Upon seeing his curse, the people began to dread the warrior as one whom would bring the wrath of the gods wherever he traveled. Using deception to circumvent his strength, they captured him and bound him with heavy chains that even his Herculean strength could not shatter.
As the warrior lay chained to an altar at the top of a mountain, the god of war appeared before him, and threw the warrior down into an ancient ruin that sprawled deep beneath the earth.
"I shall give you time without end. Within this endless labyrinth, you shall realize your folly."
Time within the ruin flowed differently than in the outside world. Nothing changed, no matter what he did. He did not grow old, or hungry, or thirsty. There was nothing for him but the cold and endless corridors. For much time, the warrior wandered the infinite passageways of the maze in search of an exit. But, eventually, he accepted his fate, choosing to remain in one room of the labyrinth and fall into a deep slumber.
An imperceptible amount of time passed. It may have been decades, it may have been centuries, for all the difference it made to the slumbering warrior.
Suddenly, the silence that had lasted for so long was broken. A deafening roar shook the entire labyrinth, and the great waves of power that followed were enough to awaken the legendary warrior. The torrent of power that ran through the maze in that moment broke the seal that had been placed on the labyrinth; the incantation that caused its passageways to loop infinitely was broken. From the change in the way that the air was flowing, the warrior could tell that the entrance of the labyrinth was finally unsealed.
At that time, the warrior had no way of knowing that this phenomenon was the power of the Evil Seed.
Stepping out from the labyrinth for the first time in an eternity, he learned that the world outside had changed greatly since his era. The gods that he had once challenged had lost their power. The curse placed upon him would likely never be broken. This did not particularly trouble him, however.
Those waves of power that had interrupted his sleep were undoubtedly the greatest power of this era. When he realized this, his body trembled with excitement.
Although he was eager to challenge this new power, he was aware that eagerness was far removed from readiness. He could tell that his combat senses had dulled over the course of his long sleep, that his body had atrophied due to eons of inactivity.
Despite his strong desire to leave the prison that had confined him for so long, the warrior once again returned to the labyrinth, intending to remain within the maze until he had sharpened his dulled abilities.
The evil energy that now coursed through the underground chambers began to corrupt the labyrinth – the warrior saw the walls contort before his eyes, the ground twist at his feet, the water churn in unnatural ways. Even the shadows themselves danced upon the walls as though they had a life of their own – and indeed they now did, taking grotesque forms and departing from the surfaces they were once confined to, becoming malevolent entities of darkness that wandered the corridors of this corrupted labyrinth.
The warrior did not fear such anomalies, but he was not so foolish as to doubt the power of magic again. He would battle these abominations, patiently study them, understand them, learn what advantages they possessed and likewise their weaknesses, until he had discovered how to conquer them. He would not risk entering the world once again until he had dominance over such forces. Once that day arrived, he would exit this prison and enter daylight once more…
...and let the world know that Olcadan had returned.
---
It was an unimpressive stone structure, but it was just an entrance, so it hardly needed to be magnificent. Nonetheless, the crumbling stone was distinctive against the sands on the edge of the Black Sea, and it was even more notable for the pile of broken stone at the entrance, as though it had either weathered away or been forced open.
Normally, Siegfried and his companions would've passed by this structure without a second thought, but Taki had detected evil energy emanating from it, long before they'd come within visual distance. By the time they'd drawn close enough to touch, all of them felt the overwhelming sense of force and dread emanating from the dark tunnel.
The energy they detected was reminiscent of Soul Edge, but was unlikely to be fragments. More likely would be another of the warriors affected by the blade, and this time it would be one none of them had ever encountered before.
What possible reason had they to enter this place, when it was entirely possible they could pass without worry?
The temple was not far from Athens, where Setsuka and Cassandra remained to defend Sophitia's family. If whatever existed within ever found its way out, the power it possessed might be enough to overwhelm them. For the sake of eradicating any person corrupted by Soul Edge or any detached shard of the blade's power, and to eliminate a possible threat to Sophitia's children, Taki and Siegfried decided to enter. Ivy and Amy merely followed.
The stone floor groaned beneath their feet as they walked, aching in its decay. Taki reached into one of the pouches at her waist and used the components within to construct a rudimentary torch, illuminating the dark stone passage ahead of them – not that there was much to see.
Their descent through a cramped stairwell led them into an enormous chamber with stone platforms positioned over murky, green-tinged water. Several other torches adorned the walls, burning brightly, their aura indicating that they were lit not by fuel, but by incantation.
The stone platform was connected to the passageway by a makeshift wooden bridge. Siegfried approached tentatively, testing the bridge under his weight before signaling for the others to cross. He couldn't tell how deep the water beneath them went, but the current was unusually fast, and he – at least – would not be unable to climb out in his heavy armor.
"Do you sense anything, Taki?" Siegfried asked.
"The aura is even stronger," Taki replied, "but the evil energy...I can't feel it at all anymore."
The fires around them flickered. The smell of the discolored water surrounding the stone grew only fouler. Barely illuminated pathways lying ahead of them seemed to stretch forward only into interminable darkness.
The group remained in fairly close formation, and as they proceeded forward, Taki, Ivy, and Sophitia each faced different directions, guarding each flank instinctively. Amy stood between the four, and had the best view of what happened next.
The stone platform beneath their feet split apart with a low groan, and came apart into five sections. The four veteran warriors were moved apart from one another as Amy remained at center, each of them confined to a single platform, drifting amongst other platforms littering the stream like flotsam.
The flames lining the walls began to contort, leaning sharply as though blasted by soundless winds as the stone platforms floated away from one another, each down a separate dark path. The five barely had time to utter a single sound before their impromptu vessels began to move rapidly apart from one another, and they dared not attempt to leave their platforms for fear of falling into the water in their heavy armor. As Siegfried's platform jerked violently into movement, his torch tumbled from his grasp and extinguished beneath the waves. All he saw was darkness, and all he heard was the screeching sound of his vessel coming to a halt somewhere in the underground structure.
When he climbed atop the stone platform and the flames illuminated a new antechamber, he could see a series of stone blocks forming before his own, all drifting together to form a larger stone platform, one with four columns atop it, reaching toward the ceiling, each baring a torch of its own, but revealing nothing more than ancient, crumbling stone.
Needless to say, Siegfried knew that there was no possible way that stones could float, much less arrange themselves in such a manner. The separation of the first platform and the creation a single pathway for Siegfried to follow implied that something intelligent was at work here.
Discouraged and daunted, yet having no other options, Siegfried progressed forward, drawing the Requiem from his back. The gaps of water between each stone were small, and he had but to take a few long strides as to reach the center, glancing up at the ceiling above him. The stone blocks comprising it slide aside like everything else, dust dribbling down, but betrayed no source of light, no sun beyond the rock.
He gained his bearings as best he could. This chamber was connected to the first room, and had two more paths leading in opposite directions, but the illumination only spread far enough to show empty water canals with a few broken blocks drifting or leaning against larger, more solid walls. The far wall was empty, and all he could see was darkness without curvature. As he tried to make sense of this bizarre place, his concentration was suddenly shattered by a disturbingly familiar voice.
"I'm in a very foul mood."
Siegfried turned around at once but found nothing to hold his sight. There was only shadow and water, and the only sound of water splashing against the stone platform.
"You will regret not killing me when you had the chance."
Siegfried gripped tightly to the hilt of the Requiem, glancing in every direction. Everything around him seemed static, and the sound was not echoing as sound should in such a large chamber.
At first, Siegfried contemplated whether his madness was growing. Then, he noticed a shadow beneath him that was not his own, and rolled away, just as something dropped down and broke apart the stone, cutting a deep gash in the platform.
As Siegfried recovered, what he saw was not human. It was vaguely humanoid, but completely black, visible only because of the dim firelight. It had arms and legs and a vaguely oblong head, and it spoke with no apparent mouth.
"Welcome," it greeted in that quiet, un-reverberating tone. "Let us celebrate your demise."
The black thing extended one arm, and its hand seemed to extend, and that shape took a different form, becoming thinner...and the blackness that seemed to compose this entity melted away revealed only cold steel, and the thin blade of a rapier.
That blackness melted away, a human hand emerging from beneath. That hand was attached to a muscled, fair-skinned arm held by a green, ornately designed sleeve, a part of a coat with long tails almost like a cape.
And when the creature's head emerged, Siegfried recognized the face. This is not possible, he thought, as he recalled the events a few short weeks beforehand, when he'd been told that this man had been dead, and even observed his decapitated corpse.
But then, Siegfried had killed him once before, too...
"You have failed, but I will not," he promised, smiling with his simple arrogance and overbearing malice. "I shall put an end to your misery."
"...You're...no longer human, are you?" Siegfried asked, although the answer to his query seemed obvious to him.
Raphael Sorel smiled and swung the rapier in his hand, adjusting his stance. "How does it feel to be no longer human?" he wondered aloud, before continuing: "How does it feel to be reborn?"
He thrust his rapier forth and Siegfried drew up the Requiem to block, the resulting sparks illuminating the platform.
---
Olcadan recognized the sound immediately; he'd heard it so many times he could immediately detect the subtle distinction between it and others like it, even as far away as he was. Two swords had clashed, one thin and the other broad.
At once the Ancient reacted to its master's thoughts, and each sword formed in his hand one after the other, but he suppressed the device, returning it to its binding upon each wrist. Olcadan sat cross legged, listening to the swords clang, and new at once he was not alone.
He wasn't sure how they came in or where exactly they wandered in the immense labyrinth, but they were visitors, and they obviously sought something if they were inclined to fight each other.
Olcadan could venture from the chamber he'd called his home, but he didn't see reason to bother. Surely whoever was coming was powerful...perhaps they had ventured in to do battle with him.
For the first time in centuries, he felt excited. For the first time he could recall, he was having trouble with his patience as he waited there, staring at the symbol he'd carved on the stone wall.
---
Taki was not as caught off guard as the others had been; while being dragged along by the sudden wind and the change of current she charted her course, allowing her aura to fade and re-expand along the way, allowing her to detect the residue she'd left behind. She'd traveled about four hundred meters west, but wasn't sure which direction her comrades had headed in. She wasn't sure how to reach them, but Taki would at least know which way led back out from the maze.
Her particular stone square had come to an entirely darkened chamber. Only after several seconds of allowing her eyes to adjust did she perceive another large platform at the chamber's center, covered entirely in shadow. Taki reached under her shoulder pad for a length of rope and to her waist for a hook, connecting the two and tying a firm knot. She flung the device out over the water and latched onto the larger platform, swinging herself over without getting her feet wet.
As soon as she landed on the darkened platform, a light shone down upon her. Taki glanced up, but could not see a point of origin; the light was leveled downwards but did not fall from the ceiling, remaining static in the air above her.
Taki leveled forth the Rekki-Maru, using the blade's reflection to search behind her, but she saw no change. As she stepped forward the light followed her, illuminating the ground in a small circular pattern around her. She remained mindful of her surroundings, at the ready in case...
...the light flickered ever so slightly.
At once Taki bounded forward, narrowly missing a heavy attack, crashing into the stone. As she turned to face her assailant, she saw only darkness outside her circle. She stepped forward to examine the damage; it had been cut, struck by a thick blade.
Why did she see no reflection of a weapon in the darkness? Why did she hear no breathing or footsteps? Even demons made sounds when they moved across the ground.
The light flickered again, and Taki dove to her right. Another attack struck the ground where she'd once stood, coming from the opposite side of the previous attack. Was there more than one assailant?
Taki had trained to fight blind, but in that situation she'd been taught to use her other senses. She couldn't hear any movement, and the only smell she could detect was the decay of the water around the stone.
She had nowhere to retreat to, she was surrounded, and facing down opponents she could not perceive. Some might have given in to panic in such a situation, but Taki merely reached to her waist and selected a flask on her belt, adding a few components to it. If there was no light to illuminate her foes, she would create light.
---
Ivy's single stone had drifted to a thin stone pathway, with four columns each illuminated by a single torch and stretching up to the roof. There was a stone railing separating each column, though the side Ivy had ended up before had crumbled away, and she easily stepped onto the surface.
At once, Ivy reached into the armor on her arm and searched for what components she was carrying on her. Her miniature lab was back at their camp, but she had a few vials on her person; one of acid, the other of her specialized white phosphorus, and the other containing a pure sodium crystal. The Valentine in her hand was already reacting to her anxiety, the blades breaking away and encircling her to create a sort of barrier, thin though it was.
However, as she walked along the pathway she saw nothing of interest...but heard the water growing more tumultuous around her. She reacted at once, sending one of her blades to skim the water's surface, but it did nothing more than create a mild disturbance as the waves crashed against the stone with increasing fervor.
The water lapsed over the furthest guard railing, and in a swift movement swept it away, dragging the stone into the dark depths.
Up from the water emerged a limb, completely black and exceptionally flexible, like some sort of liquid transforming into a solid. A vaguely humanoid body followed the dark 'arm' and climbed up onto the platform.
"Wretched soul..." it breathed in a familiar voice.
And the black coat faded, replaced by faded gray skin with a blue tint, the necrotized flesh of a man whose aging had stopped but whose evil will continued to endure, empowered by the part of Soul Edge he was forever bound to.
When his white eyes opened and locked onto her, Ivy felt fear replace her façade of confidence, as she watched a man she'd killed adjust his hat and level a cursed sword to her.
"My child," he greeted. "Are you ready to return your cursed blood and power to me? It is the only destiny I ever intended for you to fulfill..."
Ivy glared at him and reconstructed her blade, leveling it right back at him. "Why are you back?"
"I endure," Cervantes answered simply. "And no watery grave is enough to hold the master of the sea."
The battle was still fresh in Ivy's mind. That battle at sea...the scant few months between then and now seemed like an eternity. All of her traumatic experiences had come out at once that rainy night, and she had found the perfect outlet for releasing the emotions she had long inhibited. Cervantes, the monstrosity she had been unable to deny her entire life, the man who had cursed her to live tainted by Soul Edge, the monster who had raped her mother...she had finally toppled him, killed him. For a few, fleeting moments, Ivy felt at peace knowing his evil no longer tainted the world.
Except, of course, in her own blood.
And now, standing before her, revived somehow by whatever force was at work in this stone structure.
Her past just wouldn't seem to let her go…
---
Sophitia Alexandra encountered a smoother journey than her comrades, but ended up in a far stranger place. The only platform was the one she stood upon, drifting through the water like a raft, passing through the dank, nearly pitch-black halls of the watery labyrinth. She wasn't sure what to search for amongst the darkness, but remained alert, sword and shield at the ready. Without much to look at, she listened intently for any changes...anything other than the constant splashing of water.
In the distance a few torches illuminated the hall, as her stone continued drifting forward, towards another chamber.
When it struck a larger platform and came to a halt, Sophitia stepped cautiously off and wandered forward into the darkness, looking around for anything remarkable, but found only empty darkness, crumbling stone, and the smell of mildew. She circled the perimeter of the platform and then looked back at the route she came, trying to retrace her journey and find some way back to her comrades.
As she turned to examine a far wall, she noticed a new source of light, other than the omnipresent torches on the walls. The glow of the light was red and dim...but in addition to color and luminosity, it also carried with it a property that few lights have been none to possess: malevolence. It was a sinister light, a baneful light, an ominous glow that shined with gloom and menace.
Situated at the center of this light was a stone alter that housed a weapon. It was a blade she'd seen once before, held high in Cervantes' hand. Then, when still encased in its steel shell, she hadn't seen the flesh that extended out from it, revealing its true state as a living organism. She hadn't seen the single eye at its center, at least not so clearly.
When this solitary eye turned its iris upon her, all the blood drained from her face, and her heart literally stopped during that moment. The aura of power she'd felt several times before was nowhere near as strong as the waves of force that this blade emitted. Sophitia didn't recall this level of force when it Cervantes had wielded it, nor when it had separated and possessed Ivy, nor when Yun Seong had taken hold of it; what she beheld now was the full power of Soul Edge in its purest form. Even without a wielder – or, rather, a host – its energy and its will still affected everything around it.
"Heed me, Sophitia Alexandra." Boomed a voice that reverberated not against the walls of the labyrinth, but against the inside of Sophitia's skull. "Heed the words of Soul Edge."
"I hold many souls within me. Those that do not reside inside the confines of my being are tied to me by the threads of fate. Those souls that I have touched, but not taken, are bound to me forevermore."
"To destroy me is to destroy every soul within me, and every soul I have ever been tied to," Soul Edge continued. "Even the souls I have yet to claim...those of Isabella Valentine...Siegfried...and yes...your children."
The sword's last words struck her harder than the baneful energy possibly could. No weapon or blow could cause her so much pain as to know her children were in any sort of danger.
"I know that you wish to destroy me," Soul Edge 'said'. "You are not the first and you will not be the last. Yet to kill me is to kill your children, your comrades...and yourself."
This cannot be real, Sophitia thought to herself desperately. This must be an illusion. A trial, perhaps. Could this be a test from the gods? This maze was doubtlessly supernatural, and the power she'd sensed clearly belonged to more than just one individual. Was this entire structure one entity that sought to bring her despair?
Yet, this energy she felt, the evil aura, the voice, the mixture of flesh and steel...it all felt and looked real, even if she continued to convinced herself otherwise.
"Can you destroy me, Sophitia Alexandra? Knowing that to kill me is to kill your present and your future? You always wanted to protect your children, and now the only way to do that is to allow me to persist, to abide my carnage. The only future you or your children have is under my thrall."
"But know," Soul Edge continued. "That I am not an entirely unmerciful being. I will swear an oath to you in return for your assistance, Sophitia. I will agree to not add your children to my butchery, if you will but perform one task for me: Become my vessel. Be the instrument of my ascension."
It wasn't real. It couldn't be real. And if it was, she could never agree to it.
Soul Edge was the enemy of the whole world. Her host of allies had certainly proven that, and their journeys had always led them to some victim of Soul Edge's taint. To destroy it was surely worth her life.
But...no mother could ever bring harm to her children. She'd carried them, seen them when they arrived into the world, and held them in her arms. That knowledge and that experience felt all the better when she saw them return home every day and she put them to sleep.
To lose that...she didn't want to think about it.
It made her irrational.
It made her terrified.
It made her obedient.
---
Amy's stone platform had drifted into a formation of other stone platforms, not linked together but scattered throughout the chamber, some too far away to be clearly visible. She had no idea how to react or what to expect, so she merely waited on her platform, sitting down and getting as comfortable as she could on the hard stone.
It wasn't that different from firm soil at night, she rationalized; as cold and unfeeling as any of the other terrain she'd rested on since she 'd left her papa's castle. It had been a definite step down from lying in a warm, comfortable bed with fine silk sheets and a heavy comforter, but if it allowed her to pursue the woman who killed her father, it would suffice.
Amy's only rationale for entering this temple was the protection of her group, but now it seemed they had all been divided. Undoubtedly the others were fighting off some other warriors or aberrations and regrouping, and eventually they'd come and collect her. It wasn't that different from most other days, to wait for the others to guide her. Without them, she really would have no idea where to proceed or how to deal with any other human beings. Even she was aware she was not normal...and it wasn't simply a result of the taint of Soul Edge her papa had dragged back with him. She was not like the other young girls she'd seen, all so carefree and content, even in the most dire of straits, and even when faced with evil as great as Soul Edge.
They were all so naïve, so complacent. They'd yet to experience such painful isolation as to be alone...first to know her birth parents were gone, and then to know the only man she cared for had been on death's door, and then destroyed almost as soon as he'd recovered by another evil, all because of the cursed sword.
Amy had been tempted to take it, but upon witnessing what happened to Yun-seong, she decided to let Siegfried and his companions destroy it instead. When the opportunity arose, she would kill that vile blue-haired woman, and her papa's soul could be at peace.
Though young, she had some idea of what infatuation and love were. And Siegfried, serious and stern though he often was, softened when he thought of that woman, Tira. Amy recognized that longing, regretful look...it was her very reflection.
She would have revenge, even if that wouldn't make her happy and would drive that man further into despair. It was only a restoration of balance; a repayment of a debt.
It was fair. Not just, perhaps, but fair. Her papa had raised her with the understanding that most of humanity would never accept her anyway, so there was no need to justify her actions to anyone but herself.
A few of her companions had killed before and seemed no worse for the wear. What was the worst that could happen? The worst blood could do would be to stain the fine garments her papa bought her.
Somewhere in the darkness, Amy heard laughter. She stood up, drawing her rapier, the Albion, and leveled it forth.
A flash of green passed in the dark, landing on one of the many drifting platforms beyond her. A girl smiled at her, the unmistakable purple eyes and green lips positively aglow.
"I've come to give you your chance," Tira told her. "I can't wait to see you die; it's going to look incredible."
With astonishing maneuverability, Tira bounded along the platforms, agile and flexible, her every leap carefully judged and flawlessly executed. In her attire, Amy couldn't move with such grace, and instead waited for her foe's attack.
---
Siegfried's heavy Zweihänder might have been enough to snap a rapier in two, given the appropriate level of force. Raphael, however, was always careful when parrying, so as to strike the flat edge of the blade and only avoid as much as was strictly necessary. Raphael was much faster than Siegfried to boot, constantly changing his stance and weaving in between Siegfried's strikes.
"What a joke," Raphael observed. "I guess without the power of Soul Edge to guide your attacks, you're not much of a warrior."
Insults were common in battle. Inconsequential utterances designed to disturb those with weak minds. Whatever this aberration was, Raphael or not, it was just trying to divert his attention long enough to deliver a crippling blow. Siegfried paid the words no mind.
Siegfried swung more forcefully in horizontal arc. Raphael had no choice but to block rather than parry the offensive, and the strength of Siegfried's attack sent him skidding back along the stone. Siegfried charged after him, holding the Requiem aloft in preparation for a second, vertical attack, but Raphael dodged to the left, rolling along the ground and then righting himself with the aid of one of the four pillars.
"Though there's still plenty of evil left in you," Raphael observed. "Still so much darkness...there's barely anything left to taint."
Siegfried swung again and Raphael parried, swinging his rapier in hand and drawing back to deliver a final, piercing strike.
Until Siegfried lifted one foot and kicked Raphael squarely in the chest, knocking him off the stone platform and down into the water. Once there, 'Raphael' was torn apart in the current, several dark globs separating and his human form becoming lost amidst the waves.
Siegfried barely had time to contemplate this as the stones floating around him rearranged, forming a path away from the platform and towards another hall, a lit chamber flickering in the distance.
Siegfried did not wish to follow whatever path was being laid out for him, but really had no other choice. He stepped forward, sword still in hand, and progressed down this new passageway.
---
Olcadan felt every change in the stone behind him. Unlike the majority of the networked tunnels in this labyrinth, his chamber had a solid stone pathway over the water, rather than a series of interconnected platforms. He'd ventured out of it before, when exploring his prison, but had not seen it since he'd begun his slumber.
He'd awoken only seven years prior, and to him, seven years felt like a few weeks. He knew that time flowed around him just as the waters flowed beneath him, but he did not trouble himself with the notion; he was such a powerful warrior even time could barely halt his advance. To wait here and focus his mind and be better in touch with his surroundings; so long as he had so much life left in him, the amount of time it took was trivial.
Yet, the Ancient was growing restless...it reacted to the sound of every weapon, constantly changing.
And indeed, battle was close at hand...
---
Taki lit the fuse and drew back, covering her ears. The explosion was small, but served its purpose, as the extension of flames illuminated the darkened platform, revealing...
...nothing.
Taki saw no enemies revealed by her illumination. There was nothing but empty stone. Whatever her assailants were, they evidently moved faster than she did.
Taki didn't want to expend quite so much energy, but she had to light up the area somehow and find a target. She began the necessary hand motions, drawing on her spiritual energy and channeling it to her palms.
The spotlight she stood in flickered as attackers came from either side.
Taki extended both hands and unleashed a spherical charge, creating a veil around herself and expanding it outwards in rapid motion, encapsulating the entire platform. As Taki glanced around, she saw nothing...but she could feel attacks continuing on her spiritual barrier, striking with so much force as to suggest hundreds of weapons were striking her.
She didn't want to lessen her shield, but Taki had to strike back somehow. She lowered one arm and selected the appropriate sutras from her waist and prepared, for she would be illuminating the entire chamber and purifying the area as well.
She drew her spirit's power back to her hands and let it flow into the sutras. Instead of attacking the omnipresent shadows, she flung the sutras upwards, towards the single spot of light.
That light too flickered and vanished when struck. The darkness retreated from the platform to the ceiling, gathering together into a strange, dark blob. Taki refocused and launched several more sutras at it, constraining the strange entity and pinning it to the ceiling.
The stones began to shift in the water before her, forming a pathway towards a corridor in the distance, newly lit.
Whatever this darkness is, it isn't controlling the labyrinth's movements, Taki observed. They're connected to one another, somehow. Perhaps this labyrinth is testing us?
When no longer focused on the battle, Taki remembered the aura, growing stronger as she approached.
Or perhaps someone in this labyrinth is testing us…
---
Sophitia had paced for several moments, the eye of Soul Edge following her every move. She had been considering, contemplating her future.
And her children's future.
"Grasp my hilt and become my servant." The voice of the sword boom, echoing from one side of her mind to the other. "Take me in your hand...and then I shall keep my promise."
The voice was deep and strong. It was harsh and blunt. But it was nonetheless extraordinarily persuasive.
Sophitia had faced temptation before. She had been unable to resist the fit body of a handsome man after suffering from a disloyal spouse. But this was beyond temptation: this was a bargain to spare the lives of her children, and even though she knew she couldn't trust the one proposing this deal, she could not resist what he was offering her.
She reached her hand towards the hilt.
---
Ivy's attacks had yielded no reward. Her monster of a father seemed to feel no pain at all as Ivy chipped away his flesh. Whether it was the will of Soul Edge or the will of Cervantes de Leon that made this undead pirate indestructible was debatable...the last time they fought he'd been just as monstrous, just as unstoppable. Ivy had been perfunctory then, mechanical and automatic in her fighting style; easily bested. She had adapted to a more organic style of combat since then in order to reduce the chance of her defeat in battle, an approach that had served her well in all cases except against the few foes who outclassed even her undead father.
Ivy had always hated to feel inadequate. Even when she'd spent most of her life alone, she hated personal failure more than anything else. Her current comrades may not have cared much whether she successfully defeated a specific foe, but Ivy herself always compared her success ratio to theirs'. Taki and Siegfried were victorious in nearly every battle, and though none of them may have been strong enough to defeat the likes of Zasalamel in single combat, they'd been able to hold their own.
Was it because she was tainted by evil? Tainted specifically by this man, Cervantes, that she could not advance?
No. No one could match her willpower. Her ambition. Her ingenuity.
Ivy reached into one of the compartments inside her gauntlet and selected the single shard of pure sodium. She attached it to one of her Valentine's prongs and sent it forth, preceded by several other blades cutting a deep gash in her 'father's chest. He continued on, laughing that wretched laugh of his, as his daughter's clever mind spun into motion. Now that Ivy had planted the weapon, she just needed to add its ammunition...
Ivy needed to fester momentum, so she kept up a ceaseless attack on Cervantes, her weapons akin to an immense barrier of one blade after another. Such a constant attack would wear her out in a matter of minutes, but if her plan worked, she'd only expend as much energy as she needed.
Cervantes continued to laugh. "And to think, I need to defeat you? You'll defeat yourself for me..."
And then Ivy stopped. Cervantes had continued to press his attack, but there was nothing there to strike. He continued forward, stumbling, until Ivy combined her blades into one sword again and delivered a strike to Cervantes' back, knocking him from the platform into the water, chest first.
The sodium contacted the hydrogen. The heat generated forced the oxygen atoms to band together and then expand, and then blast up, away from the heat. In less than a second, a complex chemical reaction occurred, and a miniature explosion blew apart Cervantes' chest.
It was a perfect plan – and yet it never transpired. As soon as 'Cervantes' hit the water, his body separated into several dark globs, scattered away from each other by the current.
Not her father...no, something more complex. But it mattered not.
Whatever it was, it was only another element to be examined, broken down, and dissected, and then used.
The shadows on the walls sent a new humanoid shapes down to confront her, undeterred by her efforts. There was more darkness in her soul than any of the others', so they would continue to torment her.
And Ivy, for her part, was willing to continue.
---
Siegfried stepped towards the light and away from whatever darkness was allowing these anomalies to fester. What he found was a smaller chamber, where some manner of avian creature sat cross-legged on the stone floor.
At once it stood up, Siegfried took in its appearance. It was very much like a tall, powerfully built man, save of course, for a strange, owl head and enormous talons for feet. When it turned it extended its fists, and the gauntlet on each of its wrists radiated with energy.
"I don't know who you are, but I suggest you stay away for your own good." it warned.
Siegfried was tired of dealing with semi-human enemies at this point, and was more direct than usual. "I have neither the time nor the inclination to deal with you. Move or I will cut you down."
"So!" the owl-headed man mused, assuming a battle stance. "You're challenging me to a fight? You'd better be prepared for the consequences."
Siegfried hadn't really expected an alternative to present itself, and hefted the Requiem. The two stared each other down for several moments before moving forward, sword and arm extended to begin their bout.