Chapter 10

For the first few seconds, Merle didn't move. She sat numbly on the floor, vaguely trying to decipher what was happening. Then, as always, things shifted into fast forward. One moment she was on the floor, the next she was moving. Feet pounded in the eerily silent halls, racing all the way down to the lunchroom. Across the many wooden tables lay the students. Some were hunched over, faces either nestled into their arms or into quickly cooling bowls of food.

Merle grimaced and looked away from them. Was Monochrome's followers attacking so early because she was alone? Or maybe because she was vulnerable? Giving a shake of her head, Merle grabbed the Pigment. They were clearly coming after the Pigment, the last one they needed. Maybe you should just give it to them; a traitorous, tired voice filled her mind. Be done with it. At the thoughts her insides twisted uncomfortably.

"Oh, there you are." Merle's head snapped up at the voice. Across the large room, leaning against the glass doors was Tessur. He pulled at the cuff of his black jacket, not looking at Merle. "Did you take so long because you had to think for yourself for once?" He punctured the end of his sentence by finally looking up with a glare. Merle bristled, but made no comment.

"No need to be silent, I actually came to talk." He gave a sigh and moved from the door. He stepped over and on the students, not bothering to redirect his steps over their splayed fingers or limbs. Merle took a step back as he approached, a deep frown etched on her face. Talk? What was this about? The Pigment obviously. Or, maybe Clancy? Merle squashed the spark of hope beneath her heel before it could fully form. She wasn't going to be hurt, not again.

As if noticing her apprehension, Tessur stopped walking forward. A girl was slumped beneath him, her fingers being stepped on. Merle noticed, but she doubted he did. And even if he did, he obviously wouldn't care, would he. They're not good people, they hurt Clancy and took over the Land of Canvases. They tried to hurt me. The last thought didn't bother Merle as much as she thought it would. Even so, did she even want to listen to what he had to say? The only reason she came down was because… because… well, she didn't know. It was just an involuntary action.

"-so what do you say?" Tessur spoke. Great, she missed it. Not that he was saying anything important she supposed.

"Where's the Dead-Color?" Merle asked instead.

"Nowhere, I haven't made one," Tessur said. "I just needed an enclosed space to speak with you."

Merle's hand tightened around the Pigment. Again he said that he wanted to talk to her. She couldn't talk with people of her own race, what made him think she'd be able to talk to him? Or want to.

"Any thoughts? Any curses you want to spit? Other Cures would love a chance like this, you know?"

"I'm not… the other Cures," said Merle, finally getting her thoughts under wrap. Those cures tried and died for their home. Merle couldn't even protect one person. They were heroes, she was a failure.

"Good. That will make things easier." He shifted his legs, finally stepping off the poor girls fingers, and held a hand out. "I'll get straight to the point if that's all right with you. Stop being a Pretty Cure. You've got no reason to continue fighting, especially by yourself." Tessur continued on, not waiting for Merle to speak. "You're out of your depth and outnumbered. I think it'd be best if you just give us the Pigment."

"Give… it?" The words felt foreign in Merle's mouth. He was asking her to just hand it over?

"Yes," Tessur gave a soft sigh, the tension from his body sliding off. "Just give it up. You've said yourself, you have no ties to the Land of Canvases when we first met and that hasn't changed. There is no reason to continue fighting us like this." Tessur paused, then continued with a faint smile. "Humans weren't supposed to be involved anyways. That Pigment probably chose you out of desperation, not out of heroics."

His last words were the final nail in the coffin. Merle flinched back as if punched. Not supposed to be involved in the first place? Her gaze dropped to her feet, head too heavy to lift any longer. He's not wrong, she thought bitterly. She was a coward. Someone who only followed what Clancy said.

Even the trained warrior, Vermillion who hoped and tried so hard couldn't fight any longer. The Guardian of the Pigments— Grif— was gone, captured as well. Merle was just a kid. A kid who couldn't do anything right.

Her eyes shut in vain, trying to keep the tears at bay. Who was she to even try? What was the point?

The Land of Canvases. The gray scaled landscape filled her mind's eye. The wind still frozen mid breeze; the flowers too heavy to lift their heads to a washed out sky. The people sleeping, never to wake again. Did those people deserve that fate? Stripped of their emotions— their self and to remain that way because she was a coward? Did that little girl who slept on the bench deserve this?

Didn't Merle say she was going to burn that image in her mind?

That wasn't all that was at stake either. Earth and her family were in danger as well. Her mother and father, the students at school, none of them knew about this. About aliens warring over stones. Could Merle really bear the weight of them losing their selves? Could she actually let two planets (and who knew what else) die because of her?

"All this over some stupid rocks," Merle said.

"Some stupid rocks indeed," Tessur agreed.

Was Tessur weary of this as well? Tired of fighting with half-hearted resolutions? Probably not, he is a solider.

But she wasn't. Merle didn't like seeing people hurt, whether they were from this planet or not. That was all.

Merle spoke slowly, her eyes never rising from her feet, "I have little experience and no personal ties to the Land of Canvases, but-" her throat tightened almost to the point where she couldn't speak. "But, the Pigment didn't choose me out of desperation. Out of the fear it would be lost to you. It chose me because I was willing to help. "

Merle lifted her head. "I won't give the Pigment to you. I don't care whether or not I have no connections to the Land of Canvases. If you're doing wrong and I have the power to stop you, then I will." One of her mother's sayings— ripped from an old comic book series— left her mouth. And maybe, a really slim maybe, a braver Merle would be fighting in the future instead of this cowardly her. A Merle who could right these wrongs.

Tessur didn't move. His gaze narrowed, a small frown tugging at his lips.

"What."

"I said I won't be giving it up," Merle repeated softly.

"Where is the logic in this? You don't even care for the Land of Canvases! You're out numbered, you have no skills," Tessur's voice rose in volume the more he spoke till he was almost yelling. "Why would you want to continue to fight?"

"I do care for the Land of Canvases. I was wrong when I said I didn't. I was wrong to not care for a land your people destroyed." Guilt flooded her body, making Merle drop her gaze to her feet again. How could she have been so callous? Yet, even now that disgusting whisper in the back of her head spoke; you aren't doing this for them. You're doing this for you. You just don't want to face the consequences.

"I don't need to use logic to decide this," Merle spoke in haltering words.

You don't really care.

"Then I'll take that Pigment by force!" Tessur threw a hand out. "Strip away your soul! Rise and be reborn, Dead-Color!" The usual waves accompanying the Dead-Color weren't there. Still, Merle's head snapped up at the words. There was a pull of something behind her. Tessur shut his hand and then like he was reeling something in, yanked backwards. The pull became stronger.

Like before with Anneis's, Tessur's Dead-Color began to tug itself out of a poster. Paint splattered against the floor and walls as an oversized hand scratched against the wall. Merle turned fully, watching with rapt eyes as impossibly large, white limbs pulled themselves out.

"Pretty Cure! Primer and Gloss!" The words left Merle's mouth before she could stop them. The transformation took place in mere seconds, her rumpled school uniform becoming that of a cure's. "The color of the unforgiving Earth! Cure Aero!"

Before the Dead-Color could fully pull itself out, Aero launched herself forward. She wasn't like Vermillion or the other Cures, she wasn't trained in combat. And yes, it may be a little disgraceful to them or the enemy to attack something that couldn't attack back, but she didn't quite care. She needed every advantage possible. So attacking the Dead-Color couldn't defend itself was totally alright in her book.

Short, heeled boots dug into the top of the pyramid shaped Dead-Color. It gave a screech and recoiled, but Aero didn't relent. The moment she touched down on the tiled floor, her fist was flying. While her arm didn't hurt anymore from the stab wound—the pain receding on her second day in self-exile—Aero could still feel the punch aggravate the scar. She pulled back again, hissing in pain through clenched teeth.

"Not even letting it have a fair chance, you're definitely not like the other cures," Tessur said from behind. Aero couldn't tell if he was taunting her or not. She tried not to focus on his words, instead honing in on the still emerging Dead-Color. Just as Aero raised her fist for another blow against one of the flat sides, a hand slammed into her. Aero hit her backside against a table, the food and trays flying with her into the air as she was launched towards the other side of the room.

Before Aero could get her bearings, the window crashed in an array of twinkling glass, sending her outside and against the dirt. Rolling to a stop, not too far away from the lunchroom, she let out a groan. The pain quickly faded, leaving no remnants that she was thrown out the window. I guess that solves how I'm getting the Dead-Color outside, Aero stood quickly at the sound of approaching footsteps.

The Dead-Color this time was based off the food pyramid, large cartoonish hands erupting from the sides as well as legs from below; despite this there were no eyes. Nor a mouth. Appearing lightly beside it was Tessur who eyed it critically. "Get rid of her," he said.

The food pyramid started forward. Aero did not run to meet its attacks, instead lingering back. It wasn't until the first swipe that she actually moved. With a chocked yelp, Aero ducked down and let the hand pass above. This didn't stop the swift kick that connected with her chest. The air in Aero's lungs left in a wheezing gasp as she stumbled back.

She should have hit the ground, not being able to breathe, but that never happened. A moment later she could take a large gulp of air. Once again Aero was grateful for that aspect of Pretty Cure powers. Her body didn't register the pain, at least not right now.

The next few attacks she dodged by either sidestepping or ducking (keeping mindful of its feet those times). The punches or kicks were always just a few inches too close for comfort. Each time a white fist came near, Aero would flinch back and dodge farther than necessary. She was sure Tessur had noticed by now, the thought bringing nothing except fear.

Get yourself together, Aero scolded herself. Why was she so scared? It wasn't like this was the first time in a fight? Except I'm alone. The realization brought Aero to a halt. She didn't see the attack coming till it was too late. The cartoonish fist slammed into her face sending Aero crashing across the ground. Dirt and grass clumps smeared across Aero's already dark face and tangled into her electric blue hair. Despite this, she made no move to get up or rub it off.

I'm alone. There's no one to watch my back. If I fall no one's going to help me up. Tears welled in her eyes; sniffles echoed across the silent fields. Finally gathering the energy, Aero scrubbed a hand roughly across her eyes. The tears stung, but there was no time for this. She was sick of crying as well. Crying and crying and crying and never doing anything about it

Aero hated how weak she was.

"Realizing how futile this all is?" said Tessur. "Feel like giving up yet?"

Aero disregarded his words, trying to tune him out. She didn't have time to listen to his taunting— she was sure that was what he was trying to do— and had to focus on the Dead-Color. There was no doubt that later she'd go over and over the words he said until they imprinted in her ears. But, this wasn't the time.

"Come on, you can't fight. You haven't even tried to throw a single punch," Tessur sneered. All Aero could hear was the mirrored tone in Etihvv's comment: You can't fight me if you're afraid. Her hands curled into fists. Why was she such a coward? Why couldn't she ever attack back? Because she was weak?

Even then, Aero stood.

The Dead-Color started again. Aero blocked the first hit, the attack reverberating through her arms. She pushed the limb backward, pulled her own back and swung. It wasn't a preemptive strike nor against something that couldn't hit back. Her fist slammed into the Dead-Color's side, sending it shooting across the field.

Even as it slammed into the ground a sense of disbelief flooded Aero's mind. She had actually done it. She'd fought back with no one's help. The disbelief didn't vanish when she blinked. It still didn't vanish when she stared at the still curled fist. Slowly, Aero unfurled the hand and stared. The last time she'd thrown a real punch it hadn't hit. Etihvv had been too fast.

Happiness didn't burst forth, but something akin to it warmed Aero's cheeks. She could fight back. She had a chance. Somehow, Aero pushed back the fear and let a sense of calmness settle over her frayed nerves. Defeat the Dead-Color. That should be feasible. With the goal in mind, her eyes scoured the long, stretched crater in the ground to the now getting up monster.

Scanning the surroundings, she spied all the trees scattered along the pathway. Light on her feet, Aero darted across the field and towards the nearest one. Like a dog to a bone the Dead-Color gave chase. At the last second, Aero turned away from the tree. The monster continued on, ramming into and over the tree. A loud, splintering sound filled the area as it bulldozed over the trunk; bark and branches snapped, raining down from above.

Aero deftly dodged the larger ones, letting the small ones tangle themselves in her hair and clothing. A sense of triumph filled Aero, but only for a moment. The Dead-Color was up in a second, hands curled around the trunk like a baseball bat. It swung at the blue Cure, branches coming off in waves at the sheer force.

Aero jumped up, tucked her legs out of the way of the tree's reach then rocketed down. It was like fighting the octopus Dead-Color all over again. She snapped her heel where the Dead-Color's eyes would have been. Even without a mouth it made a noise like a discordant scream as it fell backwards. Aero hit the ground with a clean landing, already moving away from it. Experience was a cruel teacher and she didn't need another lesson.

Yet, the Dead-Color still wasn't out. With a push of its arms it rocketed up. Mirroring what Aero just did, it hit the ground where she once was. Rolling out of the way, Aero flipped back onto her feet and away from a flailed hand. Reeling her arm back once more, Aero released another punch. This time the Dead-Color stayed down longer.

As it struggled to stand, Aero advanced forward. When she was barely a foot away from its head she swung her leg back. Her foot smashed across the flat side of the Dead-Color's top. It let out another disembodied scream as it was launched into the base of the torn up tree.

This time it looked like the Dead-Color was down.

"The Pigment that tranquilizes the heart!" Aero stretched her hand out while blue energy spilled from her palm, collecting to become a large pencil. "Pretty Cure! Aero Recode!" She jabbed the pencil forward, the blue code exploding from the tip. It wrapped around the Dead-Color and began to purify. A content coo filled the air as color returned to its being. Aero shied away, ducking her head as the paint explosion happened. Even if she knew it was coming she still flinched.

But, when she opened her eyes, the area was still gray. There was no time to be alarmed as Tessur was speaking again.

"So you are really serious, you want to fight?" He was frowning, eyes burying into hers.

"I think I've made myself clear," Aero said, dropping her gaze away. Was he planning on calling another Dead-Color out? Had he already?

"Do you remember the griffon traveling with you? The Guardian of the Pigments?" Asked Tessur instead.

"Grif." She blurted the name out.

"I thought you should know they are a prisoner along with Vermillion. So you can stop your nonexistent searches for them, knowing that they're safe and sound in the dungeons," said Tessur with a sly grin. "Besides, they fought against Lord Monochrome before all of this. They still have to pay for that."

They did? Aero vaguely remembered them mentioning so, but she just thought they were preening their feathers. I'll have to apologize, she tried to focus on that thought instead of the hundreds of others filling her brain. Each one whispered a different way the ending of Tessur's words could mean. My mistakes got them hurt, this is because of me.

"—little impertinent don't you think?" Tessur said. However, Aero only caught the latter half as she was too caught up in her own thoughts. Now that the battle was over, fatigue was chipping away at her concentration. Before she could even think of a reply, Tessur shimmered away.

At once Aero could see all the colors returning to the surroundings. The fields were quickly becoming a dark green again as well as the school buildings going back to their depressing hues.

The transformation disappeared in a dissipation of energy, leaving a tired Merle in place. She blinked heavy eyelids and let out a sigh. Back to my room.

Did she even want to go back? It wasn't like there was anything to do. Her robotics projects brought more frustration than happiness right now and she didn't want to be cooped up any longer.A loud grumble escaped her traitorous stomach causing Merle to jolt in surprise. She still hadn't eaten anything today and running around as Cure Aero wasn't helping. But, this just brought her back to her earlier dilemma of going into the cafeteria.

Wouldn't everyone just look at her because she came from outside?

Wouldn't someone question why she was outside?

Wouldn't all their eyes be on her again?

It wasn't worth it, Merle swatted the idea away. She could just not eat, it'd be fine.

Before she could start heading towards her room she'd have to pass by the cafeteria however. The thought brought no relief. Even now, as she neared the glass doors to enter the building, Merle could hear the loud talking. But, it didn't sound like a regular lunch. It sounded frantic and out of control. As she pushed open the doors the full blast hit her. Merle paused at the threshold, flinching at the sheer noise.

Is this because of the Dead-Color? Merle started forward and ran towards the cafeteria. As she drew closer the voices became discernable. A female teacher was yelling at everyone to be calm and take a seat while other teachers tried (in vain) to calm the frantic children.

"This school is cursed!"

"I want to call my parents!"

"I'm leaving!"

Cries from the students overwhelmed the pleas from the teachers. Merle felt bad for them as they were only trying to do their jobs. It wasn't their fault that everyone 'passed out' when a Dead-Color appeared and they shouldn't have to deal with the consequences. I'm sorry, I'm really sorry. All she could do was send her apologies. But, at least you aren't the ones fighting them. You don't have to see the monsters.

After what felt like a long time the riot finally quieted down. Merle stood near the edge of the rectangular room, waiting with tired eyes to see how the staff was going to deal with this. The student's weren't the only ones looking distressed.

"First things first, is anyone seriously injured? If so, please go to the nurse's office." The female teacher from before spoke. When no one made any moves to leave she continued. "Second off, classes are going to resume in an hour on weather delay schedule, you are expected to be in class and if you are not you will be reprimanded." At this a chorus of groans, thankfully not as loud as before, erupted. Even some of the teachers grumbled.

"Clubs will also be canceled as well as phone calls sent home." Sylvia supplied from somewhere in the room. At first Merle couldn't see where the small girl was, but she soon spotted her near the female teacher. She looked well, or as well as one could be after losing her emotions.

After the announcements the groups of students broke up, many of them returning to their dorm rooms with friends. Merle was no exception, taking the chance to avoid Sylvia while making her way up. She didn't want a repeat of this morning, especially because she hadn't apologized for losing her temper with the dorm manager. All Sylvia wanted to do was help, but Merle had just snapped and acted rude.

With a soft click the door closed behind. Her room was shrouded in a gloomy darkness that perfectly portrayed the mood Merle felt. What Tessur had said earlier was hitting her again. Not only with the Pigment, but with Grif and Vermillion as well. It was her fault that the two were prisoners; especially with Grif. Merle collapsed onto her messy bed. What was she supposed to do? How could she do this all alone? How can I fight when I'm such a coward? How can I win when it's hopeless?

It was like going down the rabbit hole. One thought led to a worse one. And then a worse one. For who knows how long, Merle laid on her bed, cursing herself over and over for the stupid mistakes she'd made.

"It's…pointless," Merle said softly. "Absolutely pointless." There was no point to persecute herself over the past as she couldn't change it, but that didn't stop her mind from running. It didn't stop her heart from aching. How she wished she could just stop her brain, even if it were only for a minute. Merle raked her hands across her face again, letting out a long sigh.

Before she could even begin to worry about her next move, a soft knock came from the door. Who is it now? Merle sat up, but made no move towards the door. Maybe one of the teachers down stairs? She looked to the clock by her bedside, but it hadn't been longer than 45 minutes.

"Merle? Are you in there?" It was Sylvia. Another sigh left Merle.

"What do you want?" She asked.

"I… I would like to do this face to face if that's okay. Could you open the door?" There was a hitch in Sylvia's voice. Something's wrong with her, maybe because of the Dead-Color? Usually she would have pounded and screamed and threatened, but now she was being… soft.

When the door opened, the short dorm manager looked up, meeting Merle's eyes for a second before looking away. Merle's grip on the door tightened. Something was definitely wrong.

"Thanks for opening the door, you know without uh, being forced." Sylvia tried for a smile, but it ended up more of a grimace. "I wanted to talk to you about this morning."

"I'm sorry," Merle said.

"What?" Sylvia's head snapped up. "No! Why are you the one apologizing?"

"I-I'm sorry?" Wasn't she supposed to be apologizing? Her behavior was terrible and even if she was feeling miserable, she shouldn't have taken it out on Sylvia.

"No! I'm the one who came here to apologize! You- why would you think you should be?" Sylvia let out an aggravated sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. "I don't know what you think in that world of yours, but you shouldn't apologize for someone pushing you, Merle."

"Pushing?" This was not the conversation Merle imagined. It was supposed to be quick, painless (or as painless as possible), and leaving her and Sylvia on better terms. Better terms being that the two going back to never speaking.

"I pushed you too hard, I… I wanted for you to tell me your problems, to be there for you. But, I was just forcing you when you obviously didn't want to talk and I'm sorry for that." Sylvia looked away, chewing on her bottom lip.

Merle rubbed her eyes. For the second time today she couldn't believe what was happening. Her and Sylvia having a proper conversation? One that wasn't taking place at the crack of dawn and not over thrown yellow cards? Unbelievable. What do I say, do I apologize again? Merle shuffled her feet, the long silence beginning to get unbearable.

"Do you accept it?" Sylvia finally asked.

"…Yeah."

The tension melted from Sylvia's shoulders at the reply. "Thank goodness. I don't know what I would have done if you didn't."

Merle simply nodded. She couldn't really understand what Sylvia meant (as they weren't friends), but at least the conversation was over. It was like going another round as Cure Aero, the talk— if that's what this could be called— more draining than fighting a Dead-Color.

The door began to be shut, Merle already turning back to her bed when a pale hand shot out. Sylvia shoved her arm between the wooden frames with a short yell. "Wait, stop!"

Merle flinched back.

"Don't forget to go to the late classes… I'm serious so don't glare at me like that. You'll get in trouble if you don't." The frown on Sylvia's face fell as she looked down, a blush apparent on her pale face. "And if you want to talk just know I'm here, okay? It's not healthy to hole up in your room for a week." Sylvia immediately shut the door afterwards with a strangled— "Goodbye!"

"I'm not glaring," Merle said quietly to herself. But, she was right. With a sigh, Merle moved to get a clean uniform.

"Back already? And empty handed too I bet," said Anneis, looking up from her place on the white couch. She took her feet down from the table, sitting properly.

"How did you know?" Tessur collapsed next to her. He was tired, eyelids drooping with the effort to be kept open. Summoning Dead-Colors was too tiring. "Was I dragging my feet or something?"

"You'd be crying if you got the blue Pigment." Anneis idly flipped through a magazine with a smirk. "Did negotiating not go your way? Did Aero say something like 'hope will win in the end'?" There was a long pause before she doubled over with a heavy laugh. "Hope… will win… haha, come on I totally sounded like one there didn't I?"

"Ha ha ha you're so funny, how is your Chroma room report going?" Tessur ignore her joke. He liked Anneis, he really did, but her humor was so… lame. At least she's not as bad as Etihvv, the kid could fit seven puns in one sentence. He had learned his lesson then, don't even try to get to know them. Now Tessur avoided all conversations with them unless it was business related.

"Seriously? Asking so soon? Can't you ask about my day first?" Anneis pouted. Nonetheless she pulled a folder off the glass table. In black, thick lines were messily scrawled letters which Tessur could barely decipher. "Also I finished yesterday, but I needed to run it by you first."

"You mean have it rewritten, this is terrible," Tessur said as he flipped through the report. "What did you do? Write in marker?"

"Oh shut up. I'm a fighter not a writer," Anneis grumbled in return, swatting at Tessur with the magazine. It barely hit him, but he still scowled at her. "Now I'm not telling you who's coming for a visit."

"Anneis."

"Figure it out yourself."

"Anneis."

"Is the problem too hard for you?" She sounded incredibly smug. Tessur suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, instead flipping open his phone. He'd just ignore her, it wasn't too hard. With a huff, Anneis opened the magazine again, pointedly ignoring him as well. Scrolling through the multitude of emails, most of it spam, Tessur stopped on the most recent. His body went rigid, the phone giving a creak in his tight grip.

"Oh, figure it out?" He could see now why Anneis had been so smug.

Lord Monochrome is coming.

Afterword: I'm trying to get back into writing because I want to start the next arc but idk

I tried to rewrite some of the previous chapter, mostly Clancy's and Etihvv's part as well as changing some of the villain interaction.

Leave a comment, review, or constructive criticism as I would love to hear from y'all.