"I always find it so amusing how no one thinks to suspect the Polish vagrant. For one of Jean-Luc's little spies, I'd think by now you'd know better than to overlook such fine details."
The very mention of that name struck Polnareff with disarray. What did his father have to do with any of this? Better yet, on what grounds did Andrej have to bring him up, and how did he know him? There was no way he could have, as the Nightwalker never came to France to his knowledge. There were no reports of small town populations dropping to zero in a day's time like the places left in Testament's wake; Jean-Luc never went to Poland, let alone East Europe. The connections just weren't there.
"What the hell is he talking about?" Polnareff demanded.
"Jean, this doesn't concern you." Gaelstrom spoke firmly, keeping his eyes on Testament.
"This asshole mentioned my father and you have the nerve to say it doesn't concern me!?" Gaelstrom swallowed hard, in hopes that the need to be transparent went down with it. God forbid Polnareff learned of the unspeakable evils of his past involving his father as well as his entire family. But Polnareff wouldn't relent. Gaelstrom's silence only fueled him to pry further.
"You're hiding something," he said, "you god damn hypocrite! And to think I felt sorry for biting your head off earlier. You're a shitty person. Nothing's changed about you. You'll always be a spineless, backstabbing liar!"
Gaelstrom clenched his fist. "Jean, that's enough, stay out of this!"
"Haha, so the ghost in the shell is the offspring of the late Paladin de France," Andrej jeered, "this just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it? I would love nothing more than to kill you, but it looks like someone already beat me to it. Guess I'll settle for dwindling the population of a reptilian species instead. Testament!"
A weight shot up from Polnareff's chest and into his throat as two thin, translucent spikes slowly ejected from the enemy stand's wrists. They brightened the room, bringing to light the sharp-fanged skeletal grin; a look that said: I am the pale rider; I am Death. And Death ghosted ahead where standing in its path was Eva with resolve burning in her eyes. Gripping the hilt of the sword, she braced herself.
Clang
Opening her tightly shut eyes, she gasped. A large, crimson shield with spikes and horns blocked her view of the enemy. "Well, that doesn't look like a reptile." Gaelstrom snarked, placing his hands to Eva's shoulders.
He's with-spirit, too?
With his hands, he guided her out of the way to get behind him. Gaelstrom stood by his stand. A brutish, half-bodied humanoid with pink skin and the upper jaw and pelt of an abnormally large wolf resting over its head. Gaelstrom walked out from behind the shield lighting a cigar.
"Aren't you the least bit terrified of me!?" Andrej barked.
"Heh, are you kiddin'? I feel like I just shit my pants."
Polnareff's brows lowered, his nose wrinkled in disgust. "I didn't need to know that."
Gaelstrom's eyes snapped up to the ceiling in exasperation. "Not talkin' to you." he called back.
"Enough of this!"
Testament withdrew its glowing needle from the shield and made a rapid ascent. Gaelstrom's eyes shot open. The other arm raised a spike by its eye socket, readying itself to stab Gael's stand at face level. In a panicked voice, he shouted, "Cu Chulainn!"
Brandishing its sword, Cu Chulainn swung to counter. The heavy blow ruptured the wood floor. Cu Chulainn pulled the sword from a splintered hole and Gaelstrom nned the room. Just as Polnareff had blinked, Testament was gone as well as its user. Although, they were out of sight, he could feel those same glaring eyes watching him from somewhere.
Eva took a step back. He's gone!
Gaelstrom clasped his hands to his head tightly and descended into a crouched position. "It's Warsaw of '86 all over again. I have to get out of here!"
"Gaelstrom, get ahold of yourself! He's still here."
"What?"
"Listen, Testament's still in this room. Whatever you do-"
Shluk
Testament's spike sank into Cu Chulainn's side. Gaelstrom clamped a hand over his shared wound, blood spurting through the gaps between his fingers. Again, boots clomped across the wooden floor, this time all the way up to him. Andrej leaned down, smirking at the pained expression on Gaelstrom's face.
"Ooh, I remember this. This is exactly how you looked last time when you begged me to spare you. Seems you've forgotten that my stand can teleport within a thirty meter radius. You didn't really think I just ran, did you? What's wrong, Callaghan? Don't you want to be liberated from your damnable health problems?"
"Fuck you!" Gaelstrom wheezed.
"Awww, come on, I'm doing the human race a favor. All this suffering and for what? People are brought into this world only to take everything and give nothing back. Humans are meant to be symbiotes, living as one with nature but instead we are parasites! When I realized my true power, I vowed to set mankind straight by diminishing the population plaguing our planet, so we as a species can no longer deplete the earth's natural resources. I was chosen for this. That is why I kill; why lord Mordred sees potential in me. I am the messiah this world needs!"
Polnareff shot a look at Andrej, finding it hard to believe the words coming out of his mouth. "This bastard's insane!" he cried.
"So, won't you let me liberate you?" Andrej offered.
Gaelstrom grunted, climbing to his feet. Taking short raspy breaths, globs of blood spilled from his lips and onto the floor. He coughed, making pained whimpers and pressing a palm to his knee. Andrej shook his head.
"Fool," he said, watching Testament drain the life essence out of Gaelstrom and Cu Chulainn, "you're just like that poor, sweet girl I left at the rest stop."
"Girl?"
"She was a low-life that needed a ride out of some town not far from the border. She was clearly mistreated and trying to leave an abusive relationship, poor thing. So I ended her suffering. Idiot tried to hide from me in the men's bathroom, but it's no use. For, Revelations 6:16 states: They called to the mountains and the rocks, Fall on us and hide us from the face of the one seated on the throne and from the Lamb's wrath! I am that lamb. I am Testament! None shall hide from me!"
Gaelstrom bared his teeth. "I'm sick o' listenin' to your bullshit!"
Cu Chulainn managed to ram Testament in the abdomen with its blade-arm, dislodging its spike from the injury Gaelstrom and his stand had sustained. Blood erupted from Andrej's mouth, spilling down his chin. Trying to catch his breath, Gaelstrom staggered over to him. He swung his fist, sending him to the ground with a broken nose.
"That..." Gaelstrom said pointing at him, "...was for trying to kill Jean. I'll die this very second before you lay a hand on him."
"Huh?" Polnareff's brow raised, uncertain if he had heard that correctly.
Gaelstrom turned around, looking over his shoulder in Coco Jumbo's direction. He flashed a smile at Polnareff giving him a wave. That numbskull would endure all of that and still come out on top acting like everything was just peachy? Polnareff admitted he admired his retaliation, despite buckling in the face of adversity. He couldn't help but smile back at that dork. There was undoubtedly honor in his actions.
But his smile began to wane as he started to wonder how that could be if he were keeping things from him. Such as: a stranger bringing up his father in the midst of battle; a battle that to him appeared to mean more than it seemed. Like the beginning to a bigger problem. He couldn't quite put his finger on it.
Rising up from the floor, groaning, came Andrej. Polnareff caught sight of Testament descending behind Gaelstrom with its glowing spike pulled back.
"Gaelstrom, look out!"
Gaelstrom turned his head, eyes widened with fear. As quickly as he'd perceived Testament's presence, the stand rammed its translucent spike into Gaelstrom's back, coming out just above his navel.
Blood spilled from his lips as Testament began to absorb his life, much quicker than the last time he'd struck Cu Chulainn. Polnareff watched helplessly, the want to save his life begetting despair. A misaligned nose oozed blackened crimson down the face of Testament's user as he stood over mocking him. Gaelstrom's face shrank, his skin losing its complexion. Withered arms hung loose at his sides, his eyes sinking further into his skull. Polnareff shut his eyes. This wasn't happening.
Memories of their summer shenanigans flashed through his mind. Gaelstrom's youthful glow, gentle gestures, and playful nature called him back to the days he swore he'd shut out of his mind forever. As repressed as they were, Gaelstrom's current near-death situation brought them from the depths and to the surface, as clear as though the sun were shining down on them in an open meadow for all the world to see. And all Polnareff could do was reflect, reflect, and reflect some more.
That same poofy, red-hair glistening in the summer sun like starfire. His stupid smile and his stupid jokes...good ole Gaelstrom donning his childhood innocence, just as Polnareff's sister used to. The three of them doing everything together on those summer days were heaven. The heat of the sun beating down on their skin as they ran through the tall grass in the fields. Memories that never truly died; memories he couldn't forsake if he wanted to, no matter what transpired between them. Just one more time, Polnareff would like to feel the sun like he did when Gaelstrom and Sherry were there.
Just once, he wanted to have the opportunity to save someone in dire need. This sitting by and observing while others suffered did little more than rip him apart. It wasn't fair! Just when he'd finally began to see that there was some honor left in Gaelstrom, he couldn't save him. This was their true goodbye all along. That's what Polnareff finally came to believe in that moment as he watched Gaelstrom's body weather away into nothing.
Fate, once again, dealt him a cruel hand. Deep inside, he knew that harboring hatred towards him was wrong. But what of his mother? He couldn't disgrace her. Forgiving him would surely mean that.
God dammit!
Polnareff shut his eyes, refusing to watch him suffer anymore. He clenched his fists, feeling his astral body nearly overwhelming him with despair as he cursed fate. "Don't you dare let him die like this! I was too cruel to him. If only I were able to...please, God...it can't be like this. Don't you dare let it be like this!"
Silence. Polnareff lifted his head, taking in the inevitable tragedy that had befallen him. The despair sucked him dry, leaving him to feel as hollow as Testament's victims. Dust. That was all he could see sitting where Gaelstrom did only moments ago. His words to Gaelstrom from earlier that evening pierced his heart.
I hate you so much right now.
What makes you think we're friends?
How bold of you to assume I'm tagging along because I want to have anymore to do with you.
Nothing's changed about you.
What makes you think we're friends?
I still haven't forgiven you.
You're a shitty person.
What makes you think we're friends?
You'll always be a spineless, backstabbing liar!
I still haven't forgiven you.
I still haven't forgiven you...
Andrej kicked the mound of dust, scattering it across the floor. His laughter ignited something Polnareff hadn't felt in a very long time. Not since his fight with Vanilla Ice. All that time he'd convinced himself that Gaelstrom was truly reprehensible and unworthy of his kindness. Confliction within himself dwindled as it became clear: the one truly reprehensible was a person that could bring themselves to inflict harm upon innocent people - including children - and feel nothing but righteous in their own actions. And Gaelstrom was not that.
"Haha! How far you've fallen, Northwind of Galway. What a stupid name. Guess that leaves...? Eve was it? Eve is the name of the bitch that damned the human race because of some stupid apple. What a coincidence. First you're going to show me where that eye relic is and then I'm going to make you regret your very existence."
Before Andrej could pursue anyone else, something snapped inside of Polnareff. "Hey!" Andrej turned his attention to him, blood gushing from his nose.
"Why don't you come for me instead? I'm easy enough, aren't I?"
Eva glanced at Andrej then Polnareff. What's going on?
Andrej and Polnareff glared at one another, as he wiped blood from his face with his rolled sleeve. "Heh! You'd get your reptilian friend killed to save her?"
It dawned on Polnareff that he hadn't considered Coco Jumbo's life in the midst of his despair and anger, accumulating more guilt. Strange. Just then he felt like he was his old self again. Andrej lifted Coco Jumbo up from the chair, giving him a once-over.
"As you wish." he said with a dull expression.
Eva gasped as Testament descended and disappeared into its user. Polnareff awaited the worst, feeling awful for putting Coco Jumbo in that predicament. He closed his eyes, silently saying his goodbyes.
"Give Jean-Luc my regards." Andrej said. Two spikes pierced into Coco Jumbo's body, pulling the life out of him just as rapidly as he did Gaelstrom's and Marlin's. Eva reached a hand out to him. Polnareff looked back at her, saying what he wished she could hear him say.
"Now's your chance. Get out of here while you can."
No, just as she had a chance to run, she also had a chance to strike. She gripped Evanescence's hilt and without a second thought, charged toward Andrej, who hadn't noticed her until the last second. His eyes broadened and sinking into his gut and out his back was the opalescent blade. Andrej dropped Coco Jumbo on the ground, scrambling his hands around the hilt of the sword in an attempt to yank it free from Eva's grasp.
"You stupid bitch, do you realize what you've done!?"
Eva knit her brows, twisting the sword sideways. Andrej's body convulsed. His eyes rolled up into his skull, blood and foam gargling in his throat and falling out of his mouth. Polnareff opened his eyes, unable to understand how he felt about what he was witnessing. Words were useless. Feelings were unmatched for how he felt he should react, whatever reaction that should've been.
Andrej let out a deafening scream. From the colorful lines in the sword erupted a light that covered the room in an opaque white. All the sounds fell inaudible. Eva's scream reverberated into silence. In the blink of an eye, they were gone. With his eyes closed, all he could perceive was the color white. With eyes open, it was still the same as if he hadn't opened them.
"What the hell..."
A deafening ear-ringing sound pierced his ears. "God, make it stop...wait..."
A faint heartbeat pulsed in his chest. "...that's...mine...?"
A wave of nausea reigned over his body, twisting his stomach in knots. What felt like ants crawling on his skin induced fear, no way in hell was he supposed to be feeling bodily sensations. Hearing his heartbeat throb in his head, he winced, pressing a hand against his temple in a futile attempt to ease the pain. Warmth wafted back into his face with every breath that he took against the cold, hard floor of Mr. President.
Panic clambered from his chest and into his raspy voice. "What the hell is this?!"
Light dispersed around him as he mustered up the strength to move. He opened his eyes and saw his hands holding him up from a pale floor. Ten fingers. That couldn't be right. The vision of his hand held up in front of his face blurred by his right eye. That wasn't right, either. The light waned, bringing into view the rest of him as he looked down at himself. Legs. Machinations that were in their place seemed to be nothing more than a bad dream. The contraption on his arm was the same. Gone. His entire body was just as it had been before venturing back to Egypt. Whole.
"No," came his breathy voice, "it's not possible!"
There was a mirror a few feet away, though those mere feet felt like miles as he dragged himself over, his legs giving out under him as he tried to stand. Pulling himself up onto a nearby table, he strained. The desperation to see what had become of him urged him to fight against the weakness that had taken over his body. But what body was that? Surely not his. His knees quaked, ready to give way again, but in all his tenacity he fought.
Leaning all his weight onto his arms to keep from falling, he managed to lift his head and catch a glimpse of the man he'd somehow become. The right eye - the one Diavolo took from him - looked back at him behind a hazy blur gradually coming into focus.
Polnareff's breath shuddered. Something in his stomach moved up and he placed a hand over it, leaning forward to gain control of his breathing. That god-awful ringing noise in his ears, his heart beating against his chest, a sense of heaviness instead of an ethereal figure, and then he remembered the fight.
Up there through the tortoise's shell was his answer. Polnareff's legs gave in as he tried to walk to the center of the room, the cold floor against his bones sending a shock through him. Pain. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like. Alone he lied shivering, wracking his mind of what to do next. Maybe having his body back was all an illusion and his soul would depart if he dared to leave Mr. President. But what if he didn't?
Given Testament had a unique teleporting ability, and having already managed to take everyone's life - leaving Eva behind to fend for herself - it was clear; nobody won the battle that night, and she was next.
Determination burned in his heart as he clenched his fist. He had to walk, stand, something. But moving his body hurt too much to do anything. That poor woman, how would she hear the enemy? Polnareff wondered: could he bring himself to kill that psychotic bastard? Did he stand a chance? He knew one thing: no way was he going to sit and observe, enough was enough.
For the past twenty minutes, guilt flooded his mind with its cacophonous voice telling him: It's your fault you can't intervene and turn the tables in their favor. All you can do is sit there and watch Gaelstrom die. It's your fault. For a brief moment, he believed it. And he'd keep believing it were it not for one detail: that voice was a liar; it was always a liar, and he was sick of believing the lies.
Polnareff silenced his guilt, driving it out like a demon that had come face-to-face with a benevolent force. Dead or alive, Eva needed him. After all, making himself useful on this adventure was what he had in mind, wasn't it?
So what if it was too risky to leave the key? So what if his body was weak? The hell with lying around dealing with it. The hell with possibly ascending to heaven. It was time to take that risk.
"There's no choice!" he grunted, straining to sit up. That same nauseating knot moved up into his abdomen, but there was no time to fret about that. "Whatever happens," he said unto himself, "whether my soul leaves for good, or even if I don't...I'm going to see that murderer dead!"