Even against his better instincts, Killua borrowed another moment to examine the scene. The creature continued to hiss as the polished, gleaming knobs of the pin handles trickled with dark and gelatin-like, rotting blood. As his eyes darted from the still gaping wound in the monster's chest once again to the needle ends, a wave of surreality washed over the wide eyed boy. The feeling only reinforced when, from the shadows behind, Illumi's silhouette slowly came into focus. Their eyes locked briefly, but this time Killua was far too detached from himself to allow something as primal as fear to dictate his reactions. Instead, when his elder brother's stoic stare shifted, he simply followed the gaze over to the unresponsive frame upon the floor.
'Move!' his mind commanded, and his body thankfully obeyed.
Pushing off from the ball of his foot, he made a mad dash for the girl and proceeded to thrust the heels of his palms violently and rhythmically into her core, the way it had been done to him before as a child. He tried actively to dismiss the pressing thought that the creature could not stay distracted for long. Meanwhile his head buzzed and swam, lightly hazing the lines of reality.
"How... did you know...?" the beast asked through clenched teeth.
Illumi did not utter so much as a syllable.
In a distorted shiver, as though his ears were under water, Killua could hear Gon calling out his name.
A light, splintering sound was coming from beneath his hands now. His palms sank just a little more freely.
With a single baited breath, the boy closed his mouth over hers, clasping tightly the nose and exhaling sharply, deeply...
...Too deeply.
The girl's chest rose higher and higher, and a series of sputtering coughs suddenly and without warning escaped her. Killua backed away in his relief, but not quickly enough to avoid a moderate mixture of crimson and thick yellow-green bile from hitting his chin and coating the collar of his relatively clean, white t-shirt. He watched in oddly pacified silence as Misaki rolled onto her left side and continued to fiercely empty her stomach's contents onto the ground next to her. Between heaving, she attempted to speak several times, but her voice came choked and water-logged, the words indecipherable. The whites of her eyes were at once an irritated red and glassy.
"Misaki...?"
"I said," she finally croaked out through deeper than usual gulps of air, "you're not supposed to use such big breaths to resuscitate."
The smallest trace of a smile etched into the very corners of his lips. His eyelids dropped to half mass while he casually scratched the back of his head.
"Don't be so picky when someone saves your life."
Just as promptly as the girl's dried lips began to upturn, they retreated to their original post once more. Her amber eyes looked beyond Killua as Misaki heaved herself into a sitting position, plum hair hanging loosely about her shoulders and no longer within its elastic holder.
"You finally showed up," she drawled.
"You didn't use your opportunity to attack wisely," Illumi replied, snapping the silver haired boy back fully into his present self.
This provoked a still somewhat restrained, irritated wince from Killua as he realized that without his knowledge or approval, Misaki had indeed called his brother for assistance beforehand. The nonchalant nature of their exchange irked him, especially after all they had just been through together.
"There's no time for lectures," the girl whispered with lightly heated cheeks, albeit quite coldly. With some difficulty, she managed to hoist herself to her feet, swaying for a moment or two while struggling to regain balance. Her fingertips cradled her left temple.
"Killua!" Gon's voice rang out worriedly as he finally reached his kneeling friend.
He acknowledged his companion simply with a reassuring smile, nodding his head as Gon's eyes turned to Misaki and back again to signal that all was more or less well. The island boy softened, bowing and then lifting his head determinedly in return to indicate that he too was all right.
A chorus of echoing, metallic clanging recalled the group's attention to Number One, who had somehow managed to force the pins from his body along with some stinking, grey, jelly-like fluid. Its breaths came more rugged now than before, though it was credulous to say that the scrounger showed indication of proper weakness. Rather, it simply eyed them from beneath its shield of darkness as a predator scanning its prey. Its body twitched and jerked as a sickening slurping noise accompanied an unearthly expanding and contracting of skin in various areas.
'So that's it,' the three understood simultaneously. 'It rearranges the position of its own vitals our attacks won't impact it.'
"You might have figured me out the first time," the monster declared, "but rest assured that same move will not succeed twice."
Illumi still seemed unfazed. He calmly reached into his pocket and withdrew a second handful of needles.
"Treason!" the beast roared, its voice reverberating back and forth between the walls. Even from within its hood, a wicked grin could be seen. An uncoordinated, soft rumbling could be heard suddenly.
"...What's that noise?" Gon asked slowly, glancing around as the sound increased in volume and intensity while his friends automatically assumed defensive positions.
When the origin of the racket hit its peak and became recognizable, it was already too late to avoid. The offset, thunderous clamouring turned undoubtedly human and without warning the door flew open to reveal a flood of mortal faces. The sea of bodies at once took assailing stances, and before there was any chance to properly react, Number One spoke again.
"They are enemies to the Legion of International Government's Hunter Troops after all! Destroy them without mercy!"
With a collective cry of battle the mob obeyed immediately, spilling into the room and charging at the group without a second thought. From within, a part of Gon, Killua, and Misaki lamented that they had stalled exactly long enough to be forced to deal with this inescapable distraction while the creature took its leave through the army of L.I.G.H.T. members, but there was little time for coherent thoughts. The battle had already commenced.
Thankfully the first few attacks to reach him were in hand to hand combat, and dodging these efforts were, on Killua's part, uncomplicated. He ducked and rolled here and there, unable to find even the smallest trace of a path to escape. It was then that the boy realized his best bet was simply to switch off his practised demeanour and allow the ingrained, most animal instincts to guide his actions. At the very least, it was necessary to ensure his tolerance for pain could safeguard a sort of immunity to its surroundings. He was useless to his friends if he could not be prepared to do whatever needed done in order to help them.
With that, Killua's aura noticeably altered, causing those around him to hesitate for a moment. A few, upon making eye contact, tensed and even withdrew a few steps. This was exactly the opportunity he needed. Unable to connect with his more human side, the former assassin powered through the crowd with incredible speed. He seemed untouchable, averting onslaught with impressive ease. Every so often, he sunk his claw-like hand through the flesh of some unlucky opponent, the warmth of their life's fluid on his fingers acting as fuel for his steadily growing fire.
It wasn't until then that Killua encountered his first more worthy opponent. Had he been in his right state of mind, it would have made sense to him that, in a space so overcrowded with people, so few could feasibly use their abilities without repercussion or recoil on their own side. Before him stood an abnormally stoic man, adorned in a lab coat with eyes hidden behind large, angular, dark green tinted spectacles. Staring Killua straight in the eye, he performed what the boy presumed was sign language of some sort and then touched his fingers to the ground.
Instantly, the floor beneath the silver haired adolescent erupted upwards, throwing the boy off balance. The force from the minor "explosion" was enough that fractures of the rock and floor drew blood from his arms, legs and face, and left his already tainted clothing even further battered. Still, he managed to rebound and roll quite effortlessly back onto his feet. His cold, murderous eyes never altered all the while.
Once more the man quickly moved his fingers around before bending to touch the ground, though this time Killua was ready for him. Enveloping himself in aura, the boy activated his Godspeed technique to both dodge the attack and exploit the element of surprise. In an instant, he loomed before his opponent, transmuting his aura into Thunder Palm while thrusting forth a strike toward the taken aback L.I.G.H.T. member. Unexpectedly the man instead touched his fingers to his own shoe and, just rapidly enough, engulfed his own body in a shell of rock that burst up from the floor.
The speed of the blast tossed Killua backwards, and he needed his now bloody hands to support him from falling. His eyes grew even colder as he studied the shell that now protected the man, quite aware that his ability could not inflict injury through the makeshift armour that encased the enemy now. Nonchalantly dodging and stabbing at several random assailants, the boy never moved his stare, racking his brain for a way to reign victorious.
Unlike his friend, Gon mostly relied on his natural abilities. His aim was less so to kill than it was to disable, as there was a part of him that was very aware of the unfortunate situation these L.I.G.H.T. members were caught in. He was quite convinced that they were ignorant to Number One's true identity and even if the entire mission of L.I.G.H.T. was too deceitful for his liking, he was certain there was a way everyone could come to a collective understanding at least to spare their planet.
As aggressive limbs came his way, Gon easily used his own slightly Ten shrouded ones to block and dismiss them, occasionally ducking and sliding through his opponents' legs to bypass assault altogether. The sheer power behind his simple, non-enhanced kicks or punches was more than enough to send enemies sailing. While slamming a firm palm angled downward to deflect a knife-clad thrust, he simultaneously pushed off from the floor and sent himself upward in order to align his kick with a different assailant. Jutting out his leg, his boot made contact with a man's shoulder with just enough force to knock him a fair distance away with a sickening pop and likewise propel Gon backwards in time to slam a fist into the chin of the opponent approaching from behind.
'If I used my ability, this could all be over in seconds,' he mused while scanning the overflowing room and only narrowly avoiding a blunt object to the larynx in the process. '...But these people don't know they're being deceived... and Killua and Misaki, where ever they are, could get caught in my attack, too...'
Descending a well executed axe kick onto the wrist of the man who had nearly landed a blow to his neck earlier, Gon used his other leg to spin himself horizontally and jab his boots decisively into six or seven consecutive adversaries as though he were merely walking sideways along them. Each hit found the subsequent rival convulsing rearward wherein their body would disappear amongst the crowd.
'It's like there's a never ending amount of them,' Gon realized as he dived through a small opening between people, tossing his fist into a face that popped up before him in order to hurdle over the body. 'What should I do?'
Misaki, while well aware that she was in for quite the struggle, was not one to allow something as trivial as some damaged ribs and a near-death experience to hinder her judgement or execution in battle. She kept her aura minimal at best, but adamantly refused to completely unsheathe herself. Nonetheless, her umbrella served as a very useful tool for the scenario, as initially she was able to cause considerable damage without doing too much manoeuvring to disrupt her aching limbs. With a single arm, she proved capable as she twirled and swung the pointed tip and hooked handle of the parasol at and into the flesh of the intruding figures.
Finally when two enemies happened to time their advance concurrently from either side, the girl was forced to abandon her stagnant fighting style and adapt to the change of pace. With one fluid movement, she spun the parasol tip to face her; jabbing it just over her right shoulder and directly through the face of the charging man behind her. Immediately following, she used the dead weight of her fallen adversary to ground her as she leaned into the skull from which her umbrella was firmly planted and kicked her forthright opposer square in the face. However, there was little time to celebrate as the invasion did not slow. In fact it only seemed to increase, often requiring for Misaki to duck, shift, or roll, leaving her painfully throbbing ribs only worse for the wear.
Things took a turn for the worse when a thick, nen smoke billowed around her, serving only to make defence even more impractical while the mob was able to collectively attack her. She managed to endure a few hits, a couple of them more severe than the others and causing thick abrasions, before finally taking proper initiative. Focusing her aura more freely into her weapon the assassin released the parasol vertically, expanding its size and causing it to spin rapidly above her, likewise whirling the smoke away. Now able to once more clearly see the nearly hopeless row of onslaught she faced, the girl sought out more desperate measures. Improvising, she ran her hands along the ends of her hair and drew out a loose handful. Coating the plum hairs with Shu she tossed them downward, piercing through the feet of the group adjacent to her. While the L.I.G.H.T. members struggled with their impaled feet fastening them securely through the ground, Misaki collapsed her armament while keeping its inflated size in tact. With a smooth rotation, she cleaved through her immediate rivals. The spray of fresh blood was unavoidable, coating both her exposed skin and hair and soaking through her clothes in meaty splotches.
'I can't keep this up,' she mentally acknowledged, gritting her teeth to keep from openly panting as she continued to parry. 'As soon as I run into one that is a formidable fighter, I could be done for. In this condition, I won't last much longer even if none of them use their Hatsu to attack.' Dropping to the floor upheld by her palms to evade the blow from a sword (which mistakenly punctured another L.I.G.H.T. member instead), the girl narrowed her eyebrows. 'I need to find the boys.'
When the bespectacled man emerged once more from his protective, rock sheath, Killua was already amidst devising a plan. Once the man held eye contact with him again, he thrust his arms around at an incredible speed, slicing anyone unfortunate enough to get too close. This called forth the reaction he'd been hoping for; his opponent began signing in the air again, indicating his intention to attack. Well aware that the man was unprepared for his true retaliation, Killua opened his rapidly swinging right palm, revealing the yo-yo he'd concealed within it. The string extended right on cue, catching in the man's fingers before he had even the slightest chance to react. Too quick to properly counter, a jolt of electricity charged through.
Yet the man was not completely helpless. Despite the painful current flowing through, he had completed his condition to activate the ability meanwhile and twitched his fingers to touch the yo-yo string. On cue, the rock blast severed the loaded cord thus breaking the connection.
"Hey, you," Killua called out, his voice so cold that it only mildly sounded like himself. "You broke my yo-yo."
"Cheap trick," the man spat in a nasally voice. "Too bad it didn't work."
With a look of determination, he raised his arm to signal his attack...
...Only his fingers did not move.
"M-my hand!" he shrieked, sweaty and stunned. "I-It's paralysed! I can't move my fingers!"
"Looks to me like it worked perfectly," Killua announced as he drew nearer, still stabbing enemies carelessly along the way.
The man clenched his jaw and the former assassin approached, clearly afraid but still refusing to back down. He was prepared to struggle right to the end, even as Killua tore out his still beating heart and held it in front of him, using Thunder Palm to fry it up and crush it into ashes as the man finally collapsed for the last time.
"Killua!"
Gon's voice seemed to pierce deeply into the blue eyed boy, recalling his humanity. He exhaled long and low, examining the remnants of ashes in his hand. A smile of relief played on his lips as his comrade worked his way through the maze of slaughtered bodies to reach him.
"Gon! Where the hell have you been?"
"I guess we all got separated," Gon realized, tapping his chin. Glancing around, he finally mused, "I wonder where Misaki and your brother are?"
Killua's brain snapped to attention, only just now remembering their exact situation. Tensing his expression and fists, he insisted, "Let's find them. Right now."
A/N: I'm very sorry this took so long! To be honest, I've been busy and otherwise in a bit of an emotional funk. I hope this wasn't too terrible. -_- Also, thank you to those who have continued to read, review, follow, and/or favorite. I appreciate your support!
As an aside, I wanted to say an extra thanks to RedVoid for trying to cheer me up with the update to her story, "To Find What is Missing". That was pretty cool of you. XD