Requiem of Time: Chapter Thirty-Five - Allen
"So what do we do next?"
Allen and Cross sat in one of the Ark's many rooms. An observatory of some sort, if either had to guess. Stars twinkled down at them, despite the early sun that lit the sky outside the Ark. Also, the sky was shifting, turning to one side, with the stars sliding away and more coming to take their place. Perhaps that was the true night-sky, fast forward and without the sun, though Allen had never taken the time to find out.
Chairs had been downloaded into the room, large, padded ones that allowed someone to sink into comfortably. Sleep for the first time had done wonders for him, though Allen still felt ready to just sink further into the soft chair and pass out. A smile graced his face, however. A burden lifted, now that Rhode was back.
Said Noah had left early in the morning, to be back at her adoptive father's home before sunrise there. Allen was reminded of his early years with her, back when their relationship had been secret and he was still shackled to Howard Link. They had both needed to slip away early back then. He couldn't wait for her return though.
Cross took his time with the question, feet kicked back on another downloaded cushion and a cigarette burning away in his hand, until he finally asked, "What do you think we should do next?"
Go after the First Noah! Allen couldn't tell whose thought it was, not in this room, yet at the moment he was inclined to agree regardless. "I want to go after the Millennium Earl, while he's still recovering from whatever that black Crown Clown did to him."
Cross stared at him for a moment, then nodded and took a drag. He blew the smoke up into the artificial night-sky. "Not a bad idea, but at the moment it would be futile. You'd never make it to him, let alone be able to take him on if you ever did. We should go back to the Dark Order HQ, recruit the other Marshals."
Allen sucked in a breath, mind straining against the pain wracking his whole body, and he rose back to his feet. A soft, feminine hand was on his back for support, but it was the door handle that he used to stay upright. He wiped the black blood from his left eye and gave a reassuring smile to Miranda. Then, hardening his face, he turned the knob and marched into the room.
Scarred and solid as a rock, Allen approached the dark, round table surrounded by five chairs. His open coat, thick cloth almost billowing, revealed the rent and war-torn flesh underneath. His face was darkened by the giant black pentacle covering his left eye. With his stoney face, white hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, and mutilated body, he looked several times his age. Nowhere near twenty-three years old... Only twenty-three...
"Tomorrow," he announced as clearly as he could, though the sound came thick as he held in his pain, "I march against the Millennium Earl - Adam."
One set eyes bulged at that, while the other narrowed. The former rose to her feet. "What?! Allen- you can't mean...!"
Allen's human hand – scars thick and thin running along the back of it – reached inside his Marshal jacket, and he slapped a document on the table. He spoke as Cloud Nine and Tiedoll read it. "My mission from the Dark Order, though it is obviously assigned from Central – probably the Pope himself. I have one week to stage an attack on the Millennium Earl; failure to dispose of the Earl results in my name being added to Crow's black list, and the eventual hunt and execution of myself and those I have been involved with."
Cloud Nine's purple eyes glistened with rage as she read through the document, and when she was done, she crumpled it into a ball and hurled it across the room. Miranda, standing in the shadows, retrieved it. With that out of the way, the blond glared at Allen across the table. "Then run! Don't be so foolish as to go through with such an obvious trap. Attempting is suicide, and you know it."
Allen smiled, a smile that held no warmth. "I know."
"Then-"
"But I have no choice. I truly don't," Allen interrupted softly. Well, as soft as silk over a stone could be said to be. His left hand, amazingly unblemished despite the rest of his body, fingered his cursed eye, but the gesture was more unconscious than an emphasis. He would be dead within the month, regardless of Crow or the Earl. No amount of running could save him now.
Tiedoll, sitting quietly with his hands still steepled before him, asked, "Why are you telling us this? Don't get me wrong, but why tell us – and your friends, as I can tell by Miranda's presence – this, when you could have gone ahead and gotten yourself killed without anyone worrying? That seems more like the decision you would make."
Allen grinned – a crack in a boulder, no amusement. "I want you to go with me." He couldn't very well say that he had tried that, and upon finding out, Rhode had warned all his friends about it ahead of him.
The only sound for the next few moments were the confused coos of Lau Shimin. Then, a wicked grin – a grin of promised vengeance – spread on Cloud's face, and she tightly coiled her whip around her arm. Tiedoll sighed, but he nodded slowly. They were in.
And where had that gotten them in the end? Cloud Nine had died first; not in Allen's arms, but near enough. Tiedoll had been left behind to the Earl's endless Akuma while Allen and his friends moved ahead. Allen believed the man's death to be sure.
But with more, with Allen, Cross, Cloud Nine, Tiedoll, and the infamous Winters... The Earl shouldn't stand a chance. Especially this early before the enactment of the Scenario.
However, going back to HQ... Inspector Leverier would be there, with Howard Link. It would be back to the never-ending escort, and Allen knew that if that happened, they would not be able to strike at the Earl for a long time to come, to when it was sure to be too late. Allen voiced this problem to Cross.
And received a knock on the head in return.
"Next time you do that," Allen growled as he picked himself off the artificial grass, "I am going to beat the shit out of you." Cross's eye glinted dangerously at that, and Allen almost regretted saying it. Almost. Because, honest to God, next time Cross hit him, he was going to strike back.
Cross closed his eye and took another drag, impeccably calm as ever. "Well, perhaps this time, if you don't run around plain as day shouting that you can control Noah's Ark, maybe they won't have a reason for suspecting you in the first place. Idiot apprentice."
Allen paused in the motion of resuming his seat. And then he just plopped in, laughing. He drew a hand over his face as he chuckled. How had he not seen it? The Dark Order had known about the Ark because of the intrusion in the Asian HQ, where the Level Three had explained that only Noah could control it. Then Allen had been revealed as also able to control it, revealing him as the Player. A collaborator with the Fourteenth.
This time, Lenalee had killed the Level Three before any secrets were revealed, and she had closed the gate behind her. Not to mention, so long as Allen stayed quiet about his own knowledge of it, he couldn't be connected to the Fourteenth in the slightest. Genius.
When he finished laughing, Allen turned a serious look towards his master, diminished only by the small grin. "Agreed, for now. I'll hide the Ark back at its old spot, and we'll return to Headquarters."
****
The South Pole.
A lone skua flew majestically over the barren terrain. Her wings were spread wide, riding on a below-freezing draft to keep going. A few flaps kept her in that draft in case she dropped low. The bird was lost, of course, but an innate map told her generally where to go. For the moment, she had no worries, simply floating along as she tried to find her way. Sharp eyes scanned endless white snow-covered ground, looking for some hint of possible food. No worries.
Until a giant-assed floating cube, larger than any building the Earth had yet seen, appeared out of no where, scaring the shit out of the skua. So stunned was the bird that she stopped flapping, starring with her beak dropped open. She then collided with the cube with a dull clank, and – dazed – she slid down and eventually plummeted to the waiting snow. She caught herself at the last moment, spreading her wings again,and flying as fast as her wings would take her away from the ungodly, unidentified flying object.
Inside said cube, Allen nodded to himself. Not even Lulubell had ever thought of looking in the middle of Antarctica for his Ark. There was a problem, of course, with temperature, yet surprisingly the Ark had a rather magnificent heating system once Allen found out how it worked. Technology at its finest.
As Allen stepped out of the Fourteenth's room to open a gate to China, he suddenly remembered something. He had left someone behind in Edo.
Cursing and reciting some lyrics from the Music, Allen opened a random door and stepped through.
He ended up in a cave, where the white light of the Ark's gate lit up the rock walls more than the early rising sun did. It was small, though large enough at least for the gate. The far wall had a dug cubbyhole, and its occupant was exactly who Allen was looking for. He guessed the real entrance to be behind the gate, yet at the moment he did not care.
Kawamura's glare could have melted steel or frozen fire. And it was directed solely at Allen. As she rose from her makeshift bed, an arm clutched against her stomach, she muttered slowly, "I... Hate... You."
Allen grinned sheepishly. "Well, if your hungry, I have food in... side." She was through the gate before he finished speaking. Allen laughed slightly at that, casting an eye over the safety room she had lived in for a time, before he himself entered the gate and closed it behind him.
Back on the Ark, he was treated to the sight of the woman tapping her foot impatiently while studying the world around her, amazed. Very interesting to see both happen at the same time. Seeing him return, she muttered, "You... You actually were able to take this from the Earl."
Allen smiled and nodded, and he began making his way down the street. She followed. "As an Akuma, I take it you've been on here before, perhaps before being modified by my master. Do you remember where the dining room is?" She nodded. Allen saw that and held open a door for her. "Help yourself to as much as you want. This is your new home now, by the way." Kawamura nodded, and she entered through the proffered door.
Before the door closed, Allen stuck his head through. "And welcome home!" And then he was gone. The modified Akuma had stumbled at his words, but she was left smiling as she made her way to the kitchens.
****
Allen peaked his head out, and finding everything clear, exited the gate. Cross and Lenalee followed. With a brief recital inside his head, the gate vanished. The trio made their way through the forest, and eventually they came to the waterfall that marked the entrance to the Asia Branch Headquarters. Twice Lenalee was forced to charm Cross into not straying away.
They were welcomed back by Director Bak, Wong, Fou, and a portion of the Science Department. As they approached Cross for the story on what happened, Allen noticed Fou giving him the finger call. The angel had turned and walked away at that. Allen blinked, and, seeing everyone else distracted, followed.
They didn't go far – still in sight of everyone – but it was far enough that no one else would be able to hear their conversation.
Fou turned to him, a soft look on her normally fiery face. "How was Japan? No problems with the Ark, right?"
Allen realized immediately that this was the Fou he knew. He couldn't see when or how – she most certainly hadn't been before he left to Japan – though at the moment he wasn't complaining. "Better than expected I'd say," he said with a fond smile. Rhode was back! He'd never get over that fact. "And the Ark is working perfectly. It's back in it's old spot."
Fou nodded, smiling as she touched his arm. "That's good to hear."
Crunch.
"Who's there?" a voice called out sharply. A feminine voice.
Allen, twenty-two years old, stilled and turned very dangerous for a moment, though one wouldn't be able to tell if they could see him. The room was pitch black, and Allen had thought it empty, though the lack of sight was no longer any form of hindrance for him. He was the predator here, the blade in the dark. He took a step towards where he heard the voice coming from, boot padding so softly the shifting glass made hardly a sound.
Then, Allen paused, drawing back on himself. There weren't threats here. "Marshal Allen Walker," he responded calmly, boldly. He was no longer training – not everything in the world was a trap (though it could be) – yet he still responded as if he was before he could stop himself. He barely shifted, but readiness lessened in him like the uncoiling of a snake.
"W-Walker?" the voice stuttered, softening in an instant. There were a few crunches as the person took a couple of hesitant steps forward, and then a weak auxiliary light turned on, coming from the low portions of the walls, also surrounding the doors.
Guardian Deity Fou was revealed, purple and tan outfit dirty, orange hair disarrayed, face wearied yet with a startled look on it. Her mouth was agape, and she reached out a hand when she saw him. Allen was to her in two steps, and he grasped her hand and pulled her into a hug. Fou froze up, and then broke down.
It took some time for the angel to settle down and stop sobbing, and when she did the two were sitting together against a wall. Allen had an arm around her, not so much affectionate as comforting. Fou's head rested against his shoulder, crimson eyes closed. "I thought no one was left," Allen whispered. "I only came here for the reminder... I thought everyone had gone."
"With Bak's death, everyone did leave. They left while I was still mourning, inside my barrier. I suppose I didn't show my face much after he died, but when I finally did, this place was packed up and empty. I, of course, am still sealed up inside here, now for all eternity, until the day of Return," her returning words were empty, trying to mask the pain and sorrow of a wounded heart. Allen had seen through masks stronger than that, though, and he saw through this one.
"I'm sorry about Bak, Fou. If I had known..." He didn't need to finish. Fou was staring into the far wall now, head still on his shoulder, but she said nothing. He was quiet too, for a time, allowing a comfortable silence to grow between them. But now that he found her, new plans had formed in his mind.
A terrible man, was he, whose thoughts turned to how to use a friend so fast, with sympathy only a side note. A terrible world it was that required him to do so. "Fou, you can leave here, right? I know your sealed here, but I know you've been to the outside forest too. How far can you go?"
"As far as I want," Fou answered bluntly, perhaps a little tiredly as well. "But I must rest within my seal when I need sleep. Other than that, I can go anywhere."
If only the gladness for that extended to how he could help her over her sorrow. No, the pleased feeling within arose only at the notion of another, more useful soldier for himself. "If you want, you can come stay on the Ark with the rest of us for your days. I'll leave a gate open to here so you can sleep." The words were that of an offer, but the voice almost made it sound like she had no choice.
She did, though, or she wasn't the Guardian fucking Deity. Fou pushed herself off his shoulder, one hand on his blemished chest, so that she could stare into his eyes. The dull lights made them seem as hard as steel. Perhaps that's just how he was, now, and not a trick of the lights. She grinned weakly.
"Walker, I was around before your great-grandfather's grandfather was suckling his mother's breast. I've seen mortal nations rise and fall, I've seen the Noah influence from the shadows, I've seen wars that reached the scale this one does. I've met great commanders and tyrants alike. As strange as it is that I am adding your name to that list, I recognize that look on your face; the look of a great man scheming great things. Things that destroy people, inventor and victims alike."
Her smile turned into a dark scowl, her eyes narrowed and as dangerous as Rhode's. Her hand on his chest seized a fistful of his Marshal jacket tightly. "You are planning on turning me into one of your soldiers. I haven't seen you in over a year, I don't know how you got yourself an army, and I don't care. If this army is here to fight the Earl, then I sure as hell want in." Allen was unflinching as he stared back, his face as expressionless as a stone. "I'll be your weapon, Walker, but you better keep me aimed at the Millennium Earl and his toys."
A bright light erupted behind Fou, flooding into the dim room. A gate to Allen's Ark. Fou hadn't even bothered trying to stop it. Neither made note of it. "I wouldn't dream of anything else." Oh, saying that didn't hurt at all. Damn him and damn this war. How much more? How many more friends would he use? How many would he allow to die just to win?
Did he even deserve to win anymore?
He felt like crying, mourning the loss of his innocence. Things had been so much simple back then, back when the lines were clearly Dark Order versus Millennium Earl. Now there was Central, and his damn Third Faction, and the Third Exorcists, and Noah who refused to kill humans and Exorcists, and Exorcists that refused to exorcise Noah, and countless other black, white and grey. It was a joke. This war was a joke. He felt like laughing, too. A splintering along the corners of his mind.
"Let's go inside. I haven't seen much in the last year. I truly would like to do some catching up."
Fou had been a captain. She led the ever-dwindling horde of modified Akuma into battle, of all things. Lavi, Lenalee, Crowley, and Kanda had been much the same, though they led squads of humans (Allen's version of Finder's). Miranda trained medics, and at times with them. A ragtag team of misfits, all encamped throughout his Ark.
"I guess you benefit from this second-chance as much as the rest of us," Allen noted. "I'm happy to see you reunited with Bak."
Fou looked past him, towards the serious blond man still deep in conversation with the redheaded Marshal. A small smile tugged her lips. "Me too, Walker. Me too."
"Say, Fou, you wouldn't happen to-"
A strong hand suddenly grabbed Allen and jerked him away from the angel. "Oh, no you don't, you damn womanizer," came Lenalee's angry voice. "You are coming with me to speak with my brother."
"Wo-Womanizer?!" Allen croaked as he was dragged along. "How am I a- eep!" Lenalee turned the 'I-know-you-are-a-pervert' glare, that all girls seem to have, on him at maximum power. Allen wisely shut up, though he wondered, Why the hell does NO woman give Cross that look? ...And how am I a womanizer?!
Fou watched Allen get helplessly man-handled with a snicker she didn't even bother trying to conceal, sleeved hands laced together behind her head. Walker seemed like an entirely new person now. Perhaps a new personality for the new look, but she was glad to see him smile genuinely again. Glad to see him blush, to complain, to move with a hint of that old childish innocence.
Even when he was smiling in the dubbed 'first life', he had always seemed so serious. And he was almost always smiling, then. It had been creepy, even for her. The other people she had seen with that look in her life... they never ended well. She had prayed Allen wouldn't end the same. Even now, she still prayed.
****
"Yes, brother, we'll be leaving immediately," Lenalee said into the phone. The golem up-linking her to the Dark Order Headquarters flapped its wings next to her, holding the phone's cord. "Have Finder Kevin and Meilin arrived yet? … I see. Tomorrow, then. If all goes well we will probably arrive at the same time. … Yes, I'll be flying them over. … Just Allen, Cross, Miranda, and myself. … Lavi and Bookman have disappeared. … I know. … Perhaps. … Alright, I'll see you then. … Yes, we're leaving today..." Lenalee's face turned pained as her brother continued. "We'll be fine. I know- … I know- … I KNOW THAT, BROTHER! WE'LL BE FINE!" She slammed the phone down, huffing irritably. Then she sighed and turned towards Allen, opening her mouth.
And the phone rang.
Lenalee's eye twitched as she turned and picked up the phone. "Hello? … Brother- ... The riots? I nearly forgot. … Alright. … Alright, thank you. … We will. … I- ..." Lenalee's eye resumed twitching as she slammed the phone down again, the garble of an over-protective brother buzzing loudly until then.
Allen frowned at her. "What riots?"
Lenalee regarded him seriously. "A new thing, this time around. A series of riots have broken out from here all the way back into Europe. The closest was in the town we picked Meilin up in."
Allen was dangerously still at that. "...What kind of riots?"
"Not Akuma," Lenalee said immediately, though she ended in a frustrated sigh. "Normal human riots. Yet, so far no one in the field has been able to find the reason for these. There's been hundreds so far. Hundreds of causeless riots. Not even Bookman could find traces of Noah involvement for these, before he left to look for Lavi."
Allen's face turned hard as stone as he thought about this, so strange and foreign on his youthful face, but then he simply made a note for it and saved it as a puzzle for later. There were more pressing matters than simple riots.
Riots could destroy towns and nations, forge new governments if they gain enough sway, Allen reminded himself. It sounded more like the Fourteenth's thought, but the man had no reason to say anything about that, right? Allen assumed it to be his own, off of experience.
Lenalee had said she'd be flying, but the whole lot of them had no intention of doing so. Well, perhaps Cross wished it – embracing a girl for an extended period of time, after all – but he never voiced anything besides agreement to the real plan. They would take the Ark to London, and return to Headquarters from there. Safe enough.
As the duo moved to retrieve the others, Allen gave Lenalee a strange look. "What did you mean by calling me a womanizer, Lenalee? That's my master, not me."
The Chinese Exorcist rounded on him so fast he actually stepped back, hands before him. "I saw you kissing Lulubell," she growled, matter-of-factly. "In front of your wife no less. And don't even try denying it or saying it was all her. You were pawing her like Lavi in a hotspring."
Allen drew himself up to argue, but then he stopped, confused. "Lavi in a hotspring?"
Lenalee then blushed, realizing what she had said. To cover for her slip, she just growled and began dragging him again. "Men!" she whispered harshly, though Allen felt he wasn't exactly meant to hear.
****
The plan worked out well. After waiting a few hours to make it seem like they had flown, they were at the base of the massive cliff housing the Dark Order's tower in no time. They reached the canals, and Allen rowed them to the headquarters's entrance. Komui himself was there to meet them, and together they entered the building.
"Marshal Walker," Komui said as they walked, "I'm glad to see you successful in your first mission." He glanced back at Cross for a moment, and the redhaired man huffed.
Allen knew Komui came in two styles: silly and sometimes illogical or dead serious. Right now the man was the latter. "Thank you, sir. However, I was wondering if you could tell me more about these riots."
Komui faltered for a moment, actually faltered, but he recovered fast. "I'm guessing Lenalee told you. That's good. At first it was just a lot of rumors, inflated as rumors get with distance and word of mouth. We suspected an Innocence fragment at work. Some of us still do." He gave no inclination on if he was one of those or not. "But until we got Finder's on the scene, we couldn't have been sure of the magnitude."
Komui pressed the button for the elevator, and the group of five stood out there waiting. "I'm not sure if we should be relieved or not at what our Finders saw. Some of the towns were razed to the ground, not a building or man left standing. However, thankfully that was only some. Most were small. An uprising that came and was disbanded, or crushed if it came to it. Some towns were damaged but recoverably. Most, in fact, were really only a person or two causing their own personal chaos."
They entered the elevator, and Komui removed his glasses to rub his tired eyes.
"They main problem is the source of all these. The Finders asked around, but they were only able to pick up bits and pieces of more rumors..." Komui hesitated there, glancing at Allen. No, not him; his Innocence. Then, he was back to normal. "Nothing for certain, though. A few managed to speak to actual rioters. Common tag-alongs, most of them. Standard I-see-a-riot-so-I'll-join-it-and-loot-buildings folk. But some... It was eerie, but almost every group had a person or two who sprouted the same story.
"An illogical story, almost schizophrenic. Yet the similarities between them are unnerving. Claims of prophet-ism and immortality. They said they knew how they would die, and thus were invulnerable before then. Mad claims. Several of these type of people were executed to set the example. Really, though, the governments issuing the executions are just as unsure as we are.
"The problem is, in this day and age, people are willing to stand behind any man who sets himself high. We sense a war brewing in the horizon, and with the people's attitudes like this, the numbers involved in such a war would be staggering." Komui realized he was rambling now, and he smiled at them apologetically from behind his desk. They had reached his office.
Several phones were ringing, Science Department tech's already handling as many as they could. Even Komui had an unusual amount of work done, a pile of finished papers slipping off the side of his desk. An even larger pile of reports rested on the other side, though that was neatly stacked. This really must have been a problem for them, Allen figured. Hell, he himself was worried by this; this hadn't happened in his first life.
Komui glanced at his work pile and sighed. "I suppose you've all had a busy day as it is, flying from China to here in only a matter of hours. Go and get some rest. You can deliver a formal report tomorrow." They stared at him, mouths agape. Komui never asked for formal reports; that meant more paperwork he wouldn't do. "Good work and sleep well. Dismissed."
Allen, Lenalee, and Miranda walked out, still glancing back at the world's laziest Supervisor... doing his work. Cross, however, remained in the office. He didn't speak until they had all left, however.
After a brief exchange between them, Allen broke away to go eat. Sure, he had eaten his fill on his Ark that morning, again in the Asian Branch Headquarters for lunch, but for dinner this time he ate as if starved. Even Jerry was staggered by the amount, and he was used to serving parasitic-Innocence Exorcists.
Satisfied, Allen retreated into his room. He could have asked Lenalee to help him sleep, or Miranda, but he didn't. For some reason, since yesterday, when he got his Rhode back, he felt like his nightmares would no longer trouble him. They no longer felt like one of the burdens remaining on his back.
So, now residing in one of the Marshal apartments, Allen changed into his sleepwear and climbed into bed. Unfortunately, Rhode would be unable to slip away from her family for the night again for some time, but Allen was okay with that. There had been a time when they only managed to see each other every Friday, deep in the secrets of their forbidden relationship, and this wouldn't be too different.
Lying there, Allen made a list of things before he could allow himself to sleep. Sarah was underground, waiting for his call; his Innocence was back to its normal form; Rhode was back, thank God, and now so was Lulubell; the Earl had his Ark again, but so also Allen had his; the Akuma egg was still in existence, but at least not in Central's possession; Allen needed to destroy the Egg; so far, he and Cross had a plan for attacking the Earl, and all the Marshals (save Tiedoll) were here at Headquarters ready for it; Fou was the one he knew, too, but perhaps she was no longer his soldier; the Fourteenth was awake again, but resting since the particularly brutal fight between him and Allen yesterday... There was so much more to remember, so much more weighing him down, but before Allen could get to it in his list, he fell asleep.
****
"Supervisor," one of the many Science Department workers called as he walked up to Komui's desk, "I finished recording the location of known riots on the map... Sir, you need to see this."
Komui stared, confused, as the nameless worker strode up to his desk and laid down a rolled paper. Then, the man grabbed an end and unraveled it in one motion, revealing it all at once. It took Komui a moment to realize what he was seeing, and when he did, his coffee mug clattered out of his hand. "Can... Can you get the times for each location, Gilbert?" Nameless perhaps to most, but Komui had made it a point to remember each man under him's name, in life or death.
The now-named Gilbert remained dead serious. "I already have two others working on that as we speak."
Komui just nodded. "That'll be all for now... And thank you." The man bowed and left, leaving the map with Komui.
"An interesting map," another voice muttered from behind Komui, causing him to jump. A finger reached out from behind him and traced the tightly placed red dots. "If you would send out for Marshal Walker's special golem, I believe I have a little theory..."
Komui's eyes drew tight at the voice. Inspector Malcolm C. Leverier. Instead of arguing, he nodded to Reever, telling the man to do the Inspector's bidding.
****
"Show him, Rhode-chan!" the Millennium Earl's affectionate voice rang, "Show Allen Walker what will happen when he fails to stop us!"
Rhode hesitated, half-opening her mouth to argue, but she had no choice in the matter. When the Earl gave orders, the Noah followed. Allen lay kneeled before them, defeated. Twenty years old. Fury-filled grey eyes didn't twitch an inch from the Earl's gold. "Yes, Millennie." Who knows... maybe it'll be fun. It WAS Allen, after all.
A sudden darkness gripped Allen then, the kind that tightened a fist over his heart as Rhode produced one of her demented grins and her powers swirled around them. Then the real darkness fell.
Images and images poured into Allen's mind; worse than images – he was actually there.
The world, torn asunder. Skies thick with smoke, painting the sun bloody. Fields and towns purged in fire, humankind eradicated. Akuma roaming freely, sentries of death picking apart the final refuges who escaped the initial cleansing. The new Dark Order Headquarters no more than rubble. The magic holding his Ark together undone, the cubic shape half submerged in the lake it currently resided over. No one left. Everyone dead. The world in ashes...
There was a shift.
Allen watched the tide of Akuma descend upon the Dark Order's Headquarters.
Shift.
Komui, Reever, Johnny, Bak, Epstein and all the other workers attacked. Shot. Gunned down by the Akuma. Allen watched – he was there, but he couldn't do anything – in horror as everyone he knew and tried so hard to protect grew the damnable pentacles around their bodies and turned to dust. From dust to dust.
Shift.
Cloud Nine reaping scores of Akuma with Lau Shimin. Countless Akuma falling to the duo. Sure, they had separated, but Allen still cared for her in a way. He watched, helpless, as the tide of Akuma became more and more, gradually overwhelming the female Marshal. She was hit, her Innocence purged the poison. Hit again. Purged. Hit – hit – hit... Her body shone with the repeating purgings, but it wasn't enough. Couldn't be enough. It was too much. Too much... Lau Shimin fell. Cloud Nine fell. They crumbled to dust.
Shift.
Tiedoll. Multiple white giants fighting twice as many Giant Akuma. But that wasn't all... Level Fours. One screaming, disconnecting him with his Innocence, lowering his synchronization rate. The others pressed hard. The aged Marshal fought well, but the onslaught was too great for him alone. A Level Four removed his head from his body with two massive fists. The man was left a bleeding corpse.
These weren't just images, though. Allen had felt the wind of Akuma flying past him, felt the reverberations of Lau Shimin's fists crushing Akuma. Felt the heat of the following explosions... Felt the wind carrying Cloud Nine's dust. He could smell the gunpowder from one of the Level Four's Gatling guns. The bellows from the Giant Akuma pounded his ears the same as if he was right there. He WAS right there. He could hear the sickening tear as Tiedoll lost his head. Could smell the blood as it filled the air.
Shift.
Lenalee, Skulls and the wrong sort of Level Threes. Lavi from the same Noah clansmen who killed Marshal Winters. Crowley was tricked by an illusion of Eliade, and his mind vegetated. Kanda, perfect and graceful in sword form, outdone by a second round with Wrathra and the addition of other Noah; not even the Second Exorcist could survive that. Miranda, with no attacks of her own, was helpless to the Akuma. Timothy, the kid, masterless and trying for revenge, easily mutilated by Joyd. Chaoji enraged and put down like a bull. So many faces... So many friends.
Allen watched as his friends, his surrogate family, were butchered by the Earl, followed by scenes of humanity – helpless without Exorcists – being exterminated. New beasts – new toys – arose from the Earl's little workshop, and the First Noah forged his own little kingdom, his subjects the Akuma and Noah. A grand army stood beneath him and his palace of horrors, an army of unquestioning loyalty. An army capable of challenging God in His High Seat above.
All this came to pass in Allen's mind, most likely instantly and in a flash, yet it seemed to him in real-time. He lived through the experiences, felt the overwhelming helplessness of them. Not helplessness at Rhode's induced paralysis, but a helplessness to the situation. So many Akuma, the Noah so much more powerful, the Dark Order spread so thin...
Allen saw it now.
This wasn't just about what would happen if he failed. It was showing him that he would fail. Even the Third Exorcists, once seemingly powerful assets in the war and devastating weapons against the Earl, despite Allen's protests against them, were no more than a joke. Toys to fight toys, in the Earl's eyes. And the Earl had far more powerful and numerous toys than the Dark Order could ever dream of. And of that, Allen had been given a glimpse of that iron tide. Even if they had all been Level Ones, there were enough to wipe out both the Exorcists and humanity alike. The only thing holding them back was Adam's frantic search for the Heart of Innocence, the only thing actually capable of destroying that innumerable army.
An army large enough to destroy everyone, held back by a curious whim. An army of that magnitude... and it wasn't only Level Ones... Dear Heavens, no! It wasn't only Level Ones.
If Allen had been physically defeated before, he was mentally now as well. Where his head had been held high and defiant, it now hung low and downcast. Where his kneel had been a crouching panther, it was now a broken stance of a man with nothing left. Nothing left, nothing left, nothing left.
The hopelessness of it crashed into Allen, and with it the world around him darkened. "Nothing left." The mantra had taken form, and now a large figure rose before him. Allen's left eye exploded in pain, like a hot iron rod had been stabbed into it. "Nothing left!" Yet despite the pain, he still saw. He still saw the lurking form.
Corrupted souls, the left-behind of when Third Exorcists committed their damned exorcisms. The tide, like a thick, murky ocean in the dead of a moonless night, rose up, groaning, wailing, accusing... It rose above him, eyes appearing and penetrating him with blame. It was his fault. His fault! "Nothing left!"
Allen felt the tightness of raw fear gripping him, holding him down. It locked his limbs and took his breath. He couldn't scream, he couldn't move. The wave rose higher, more souls lost because of him. "Nothing left!" High and higher. Fear laced with anxiety, sending him in convulsions, yet without moving. It left him trembling.
"NOTHING LEFT!"
The wave came down, smashing into him and washing him away.
Fear, hopelessness, guilt, panic... He couldn't do anything; it was his fault. Nothing left. Because of him, there was nothing left! Because of him...
****
Allen's eyes flitted open, the only movement. He no longer jerked awake, or screamed, or cried. He just laid there, breathing softly through his nose as he waited for his racing heart to slow. His body still felt warm, perhaps slick with sweat as well, yet at the moment he just sat there and stared into a wall.
He had been wrong about the nightmares going away.
Still, waking up from them was considerably easier for him. After all, Rhode or whoever helped ward them away was usually gone before morning came. An interesting choice that night, too. The worst nightmares were by far the ones that were mixed with actual memories, like that one. Because with the truth, it lingered after waking. Nothing new, though - nothing he couldn't shoulder. He was hard enough to withstand more.
It was only the harsh training with Lulubell that alerted him that he wasn't alone.
Less than a heartbeat. That's all the time it took - all the time he had. There were five people in the room, four nearly as quiet as Lulubell could be, one located in each corner of his bedroom. The fifth was different. Allen associated the soft creak of leather to be the man's military boots, the steady, almost inaudible breathing to be that of a man confident man. Off a guess, Allen would say the man to be standing erect, feet spread, hands behind his back. Off a guess, Allen would say the fifth man was Inspector Leverier.
Less than a heartbeat.
Thoughts could only move so fast, yet an amazing speed that was, and Allen had only begun to move his body by the time he recognized what was going on. Left hand ripped damp blankets away from his bare chest – sweat making it stick slightly to him. As he moved the blankets away, his body worked into a sitting position, a hard fast movement. At the same time, his right hand snatched that of his left arm, and he began to tug his sword clear.
A harsh training, that which forged this amazingly timed reaction. Smooth, flawless, Allen had been hammered time and time again until he had this action perfect. And by that, he meant he could have been prepared even for a Lulubell assassination, when she could be less than a foot away. Only then did she find him... acceptable.
All that mattered little, however.
The golden light of his sword coming free had only just ignited when the four silent observers stop their observing. Cards, "holy" magic, lashed around in the room, and Allen was ensnared. Here he was, supposed to fight the supposed greatest of all magicians, yet he was brought down by four pets of Central. The cards surrounded his left arm completely, making it feel so heavy he couldn't even begin to try to lift it. The rest of his body was put under a minor paralysis.
Lights then came on, and Allen saw his intruders. The Inspector and Crow, as he expected.
Leverier smirked at him. It was not a nice one, either. Cold and detached, almost grim but not quite. "Marshal Allen Walker, you are hereby under arrest."
****
"Under what charges, you ask?"
Allen sighed as he leaned back in his chair, propping up two of four legs and resting his own on the table. In his hands flashed his deck of cards. His coat rested on the back of the chair, and his top hat on the table next to his boots. He really should have seen this coming.
"Marshal Walker, I'm sorry, but there was one more fact about the riots that I withheld from mentioning," Komui started reluctantly. He didn't like this. Not one bit. "In most of the afflicted towns our Finder's entered, word arose of one more thing connecting them. The appearance of one or more..." Komui trailed off, and instead slid a paper across the table.
Allen instantly understood. Arms and legs cuffed and bound by Crow's magic, he sat at the other end of Komui. Leverier stood behind the Supervisor. The paper, however, displayed one image he did not want to face anytime soon. Dark grey, practically black, the cloth thick, the metal in the shape of an amused mask... the black Crown Clown.
Cross was under guard, too. Too much associated him with Allen, and the crimes of the two added together against each other. He was, of course, in a separate room, with full accommodations, wine, and probably women. Damn Master.
"The Asian Branch sent us a full profile of your... new Innocence," the Inspector was saying, "needless to say, the similarities are..." Smile. "Uncanny."
So much for his wonder of wonders plan. So much for escaping suspicion this time around. The strike against the Earl was as good as gone as his freedom. First day back from his first mission and THIS happens...
"There is more, however," Leverier went on. He could have been offering one of his home baked cookies for his tone. Instead, he offered a rolled paper. "Take a look at that. Tell me if you see anything... familiar."
Allen leaned forward to grasp the roll, and he carefully began unraveling it. For a second, he just stared at it, confused. It was a map of Europe and Asia, with country lines and detailed terrain. Also on the map, however, was a line of irregularly placed red dots. Some close together, others far apart. A few above or below the main line, but just a few. A line of red, or perhaps a trail, leading from eastern Germany to the coast of China.
"That is the location of all known abnormal riots." There was a loud sound as the Inspector slapped his hand down on the cold metal table, leaning forward with his teeth bared. Under his hands was another map, with another line... "And this your path of travel since departing from your designated Finder, Allen Walker!"
Another second to realize what he was seeing, then Allen went cold. The lines were... exactly the same, save the stray dot or two above or below. Exactly the same. The riots followed his traveling from coast to coast in his journey to China. Exactly the same. Allen kept his face neutral, yet inside he was freaking out. That couldn't be right.
If he had been in Central's shoes, he would have been suspicious too. They had adequate evidence to try and execute him on charge of heresy; adequate for Central, anyways. If he hadn't been a Marshal, if he hadn't been one of the key powers in the war against the Earl, they probably would have already. But since he was...
Allen stopped his shuffling with a snap, allowing the cards to pile into one hand. He righted his feet and allowed his chair to rest on all fours again. In the same motion the chair came down, he flicked his wrist and allowed the cards to spill out onto the table, face up. Allen watched the printed plastic slide across the polished wood, slide over each other, each card eventually slowing down – some swiftly, some suddenly, some slowly. Fifty-two total, thirteen cards of four suits, all facing up at him from white backgrounds.
Instead of the variety – kings, hearts, 8's, 7's, clubs – all he saw was one type. Fifty-two Aces of Spades, all from the deck he had always used.
Allen stared at the them, not confused by the outcome, and he picked one of the aces up. He blinked, and he was holding the Seven of Hearts. He let it go, and it landed on the table the Ace of Spades again. No confusion. No problem.
Allen began laughing, a soft chuckle that rose to belly-aching guffaws. So many problems, plans gone to flame, things he should have expected and didn't. It was a riot. The pun only set him off harder. There was an irony in it, somewhere, yet, laughing as he was, Allen didn't quite care to find it just yet.
AN: I cut my hair. I'm a guy, but my hair was past my shoulders, sometimes in a pony tail and sometimes not. Now it's all gone. Buzzed off entirely. Makes me want to cry. :(
What does that have to do with this story? Nothing. Not even worth commenting on, actually. I'm the author - I'm allowed to ramble about the woes of my life. Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Finally, finally things are kicking off. A lot of "soon"s and "about to"s from previous chapters, and now it's here.
