Gaiden 4: Moody River Blues

(ムーディー・リバー・ブルース)

"What's a sailor without a boat? Or rather, what's a sailor without directions? What is this?!"

Sitting in the ferryman Acheron Charon held his oar and rowed through the darkness. His surprise to see himself take form in Limbo didn't last long and his instincts to ride the river Styx took hold. But, there was no river. Maybe it was below him? Was it nearby? But what was his boat sliding on then? Thin air? If he could make a comparison, even had no experience, Charon felt like he was traveling through the night sky. Despite that…

"Mmm, I smell them. I smell a really severe one." He mumbled through his baring fangs; Charon knew there were souls about and he ushered himself to that point. Eventually, a light flickered through the dark. It was a tongue of blue flame: A soul.

"Ahh. Who might this be?" Charon parked in front of the soul and reached out for it. Before he could touch it, the tear of flame exploded. Rather, it stretched and expanded into a pair of angular shapes. A roar of volcanic decibels pierced through Limbo's darkness, and Charon shied away. He clearly was not in outer space. A squeal left between his gritted teeth out of unconscious fear; was he starting to regret his curiosity?

The blue flame took the form of the body. Slowly, it cooled, peeling away to reveal ebony mineral across a body towering over Charon. It was Hell, truly a demon of Hell appeared before him. Large curved horns adorned the man's head, or rather, his helmet. It suited the heavy, blade-like wings sprouting from the back, and the jagged guards across the arms, shoulder and legs. The wings lift and fan out, and gold eyes reach through Charon's heart.

The ferryman managed to move his lips, slowly, whispering out a long name.

"Charon." The taller Specter replied. "I heard a voice. If it's our Lord, then I must go to him." He did not seem concerned about this Limbo. Would he wander aimlessly through darkness? Maybe, but he knew, if his soul existed, and someone called to him with some intimacy, that was his lead. Charon followed this other regal Specter until another soul appeared. Or rather, someone entered their path.

It was an actual body, standing in Limbo as well, but a Surplice was absent. The wing-horn Specter asked for a name, and his body shook.

From a bellowing roar of rage. A violet fire, his Cosmos, sprouted around him. He raised his arms and cupped his hands together; it was difficult to define the visual in this Limbo that lacked light and seemingly air. Charon uttered a sound of amazement as he saw the body opposite of him being pummeled in mid-air.

Before being struck and nearly losing consciousness, the other body—a Saint—had seen the image of a dragon towering behind the assailant. His body bucked back and in a flash, he felt holes rapidly eating his body over and over. A moment later, before the winged Specter could take him under his arm, the Saint threw a knife hand against his arm.

The Specter's face froze in shock. His arm was paralyzed. "Impossible!"

"Nothing is impossible," said the Saint, "for the courageous Hakurouken has faced many powerful enemies."

"You dare speak to me that way, the great Rhadamanthys?!" For some reason, the other arm wasn't taken into account; a tight hand grasped the throat of the bespectacled Saint and he was lifted above the head of the Specter.

"I don't know how you're walking around, but I will crush you."