Chapter XXIII:

Possessive Possession

There was blood everywhere. It stained 9S's clothes. It soaked into the fabric and slowly expanded across the floor. The android's entire outfit threatened to change color.

Repeatedly, his sword impaled the same body over and over again. Skald's Song, once dull as wood, sharpened again at long last. With an enchanted razor's edge, it sliced through silicon and flesh with ease. Showers of blood consumed the weapon. The dazzling emeralds embedded on either side were not spared this flood of crimson. The gemstones were painted over with a layer of another android's blood.

The smell filled his nostrils. It overpowered the fishy stink of the typhoon and the aura of festering mildew. In his free hand was Devola's flashlight. As he brought his sword down at an awkward angle, chopping through muscle and scraping against titanium plating, blood sprayed out and tinted the lens of his light. The entire room suddenly turned red.

9S ignored the hellish hue exuded from his flashlight. He reached down and yanked a golden coil from the android's butchered stomach. That was all he needed. Such a small mechanism but a certain someone's life depended on it.

All the bloodletting nearly caused him to forget why he ventured out in this desolate stretch of the ruins in the first place. He yanked his sword free from the utterly demolished body lying broken at his feet. What used to be a Resistance android.

"That's right," he chuckled to himself. "How could I forget?"

His dearest Popola was in dire need of repairs. Those repairs required parts. Components that he could have gotten from the already dead android that tried to murder one of his companions.

Gladly, and with a twisted smile on his face, would he butcher as many people as was required to see her repaired. The memories of her smile haunted him. What would normally be a peaceful, warm thought, goaded him into furthering the violence.

When the victim's torso was reduced to a pile of gore, 9S knelt before it and started ripping out bits and pieces. His horrid cackling grew louder with each component liberated from the defiled body.

Over time, that laughter transmuted into streams of grieving tears.

~O~

"And done," Devola pridefully exclaimed.

She tied off the makeshift bandages that concealed Popola's blood-stained stomach. Large bandages fashioned from tattered cloth. After completing the task, Devola leaned upright and wiped the mixture of sweat and rainwater from her forehead.

"Thanks, Sis. What would I do without you?"

"Oooh... Bleed out and die."

Popola gulped hard. That was a fact she could not argue. She struggled to sit upright. Ultimately, she gave up and laid her head back down on the bed. They occupied the hut in that underground field of flowers beneath the shopping center.

The risks of staying in that area were well acknowledged by the twins and their blood-thirsting lover. However, roaming around in the city with Popola bleeding profusely from her abdomen was of far greater risk.

"I'm worried about Nines," she croaked. "He should have been back by now."

"Damn maniac. I told him not to go. That stupid coil ain't important. I have like five spares back home."

Popola tried to stand up again. This time it was Devola who ushered her back down. "Woah! Slow down. You should be resting right now."

"But we have to find him. He's out there alone."

"Already on it," Devola said with a reassuring wink. "Got a plan on how to track him down. I'll bring him back before he has time to land himself into any real trouble. You just stay here and kick back. Keep your eyes on that elevator. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Don't worry about me. I'll be fine now. Just go find him before something happens. I think I hear the rain getting worse outside."

Devola shot a glare at the elevator. She too could hear it. Venturing outside was the last thing Devola desired but with 9S missing in these haunted ruins, she was given very little choice.

"Better hope I don't find him," Devola crankily muttered. She forced herself onto her feet with a reluctant sigh. "He's gonna be in a world of hurt when I."

Devola made no effort to hide from the rain. She had grown so accustomed to it. Had already accepted the fact that there was no way to keep dry forever. She walked down the empty streets.

It took her no time at all to find 9S's trail. She recognized his tracks in the mud. The freshness of the bootprints reassured her that she was indeed following his trail rather than someone else's. She could never be certain until she reached the end of the trail but her hunch was convincing enough to continue anyway.

She passed by an alleyway lined with debris on either side. Garbage dragged about by the storm.

Devola suddenly heard a beeping sound from nearby. It was loud enough to catch her interest. She drew Cruel Oath. She did not trust this unfamiliar area of the city by any means. There was something off about the atmosphere here. That odd beeping only solidified her apprehensive stance.

She was certain there was no one around. At least, no one she could see from her poor vantage point. Backed up with a little more confidence, she decided to follow the noise. That incessant sequence of digitized beeps.

The noise drew her closer to that alleyway. She advanced on a cluster of overturned garbage cans and boxes. The beeps were much louder here. She lifted a sheet of rustic metal. She tossed metal mesh out into the open where it was immediately picked up by a gale and flung off down the road.

At the bottom of the junk pile, Devola found the culprit. An old transmitter. A model used by the Resistance for basic communication. Nothing particularly special. Nothing the likes of YoRHa would ever be seen with. A basic transmitter but how to operate it was a bit beyond Devola's understanding. She and her sister had never used them before.

Devola looked over the various knobs and switches below a glowing amber screen. The screen displayed an incoming attempt at someone out there trying to contact the device. The device kept beeping while she scratched her head over how to operate the old gadget. Growing annoyed, she merely mashed a random switch with her thumb and held the device up closer to her face.

The steady beeping then died out. Devola listened before saying anything. When she failed to hear anything aside from obnoxious rain, she pressed the device to her left ear. Aside from quiet white noise, nothing could be heard. Not a peep.

Having grown more than a little frustrated, Devola decided to take the initiative. "Hello? Is someone there?"

Finally, something happened, albeit, not what she was expecting. What answered her question was not an intelligible response, but instead, wretched gargling. It oozed through the transmitter with the consistency of gutter sludge. Devola lowered the radio in disgust.

When she could no longer hear it, she moved the device back up to her ear. Hesitantly, she spoke again.

"Uh… Dunno what that was about but this radio thingy ain't mine. I just found it here, so…"

The gargling resumed. Devola spoke over the disturbing noise. "Hey! Who's there? I told ya already. This isn't my radio. Got worms in your ears?"

The sounds refused to stop. Ready to resume her hunt for 9S, she flipped the same switch to end the communication. With a careless shrug, she tossed the gadget back into the pile of garbage and debris where it belonged.

She shrugged off the odd encounter and stepped toward the main road. As she prepared to resume her hunt, the beeping started up again. Devola rolled her eyes. Still curious about what was going on, she stomped back over to the alleyway where she left the radio. The screen flashed with generic data from the incoming transmission.

Devola picked up the gadget and flipped that same switch for the third time. She flung a few damp locks of hair out of the way and pressed the radio to her ear.

"…What!?"

The gagging and snarling immediately kicked up. Rather than be disturbed by what would normally be an intensely perturbing occurrence, Devola was simply annoyed. She rolled her eyes and sat down on a concrete walkway running alongside the cracked road.

"Are ya trying to eat your radio," asked Devola. "Stop doing that. It's gross. What do you want with me, anyway!? For the last time, this thing isn't mine. I just found it."

Nothing she said caused any perceivable change to occur. After a certain point, Devola started to look around. Without her flashlight, it was impossible to see very far down the road. She wanted to kick herself for leaving it with 9S.

The storm raged on as if nothing major was happening. Wind whistled in her ears. Puddles expanded into streams and water rushed through the deeper sections of the ground. All appeared relatively normal. She was unable to see anyone staring down at her from the windows of surrounding buildings. She saw no trace of someone scurrying around in the streets with her.

She was alone. Totally alone.

She checked every angle she could from that weak vantage point. Devola craned her neck just to get another look down that supposedly lonely alleyway behind her. There was no one around.

While she looked about in search of answers, Devola failed to notice the other end of the radio had fallen silent. She spoke on regardless without ever realizing that fact.

"Are you around here?"

She checked the area again. Still nothing.

"You're watching me right now, aren't you?"

"Yes."

Devola shifted leftward. She shrieked at the sight of a boyish face staring right back at her. His face was mere inches away from hers. She recognized his features but only after nearly crawling out of her own skin.

Her heart pounded. She tried to calm herself all while staring daggers at the silver-haired boy sitting on the pavement next to her. He eyed her without a trace of emotion.

"Nines," Devola breathed. "Where did you come from!?"

The android blinked slowly. He failed to answer, instead choosing to stare blankly at her.

"We told you not to go runnin' off! Ya could've…"

She was cut off. 9S extended a hand toward her. In his palm was a glittering coil of gold. Her glare softened. She liberated the component from him and held it skyward, allowing the lightning to shine down upon it.

Her initial intention to scream him into the ground drifted away. Up until that point, she had almost forgotten the reason he ran off in the first place. Her frustration melted away at the sight of that single mesh of gold.

"Thanks," she spoke softly.

"You don't hate me," 9S asked. He spoke so softly it was a miracle Devola heard him at all.

She picked up another stone to toss but dropped it the instant her brain managed to process what was being asked.

"Of course not!"

"Everything that girl said was true," 9S admitted coldly. It took every fiber of his being not to hide a sadistic smile.

"Amos and I…"

"That's enough," snapped Devola. "I don't wanna hear about it. I already had a feeling in my gut back then that you two were up to no good, but what's done is done. All that matters to me is that you and Popola are still breathing. See to it that it stays that way you'll stay on my good side."

He perked up. The white-haired android seemed a little more lively. Devola gave an uncharacteristically gentle smile. It was wiped clean off her face the instant she took notice of all of the red stains in his hair and uniform.

She gasped. "You're bleeding!"

"It's not mine."

Devola grimaced. She stood up and extended a hand to 9S. "Whatever. C'mon. Let's get cleaned up. Popola's gonna freak if she sees ya lookin' like this."

Devola held 9S's tunic high overhead. Rain showered down on it, washing away some of the gore. She cocked her head at the onyx fabric. She pulled it closer and sniffed the collar. It smelled more like someone else's blood than it did him. "Ugh…"

From behind she could hear 9S splashing about in a pond that was likely not there before the storm rolled in. She glanced over her shoulder. Much of his hair was still stained despite being in there for quite a while. Sensing that he was being watched 9S looked up from the dark water.

Her eyes were lingering on him for a little too long. She averted her gaze and looked to the ground. The flashlight was lying at her feet, still soaked in blood.

After laying 9S's tunic out on a nearby rock, she picked up what was easily the most useful tool in her possession with, perhaps, the exception of Cruel Oath. The lens was coated in blood. The color changed the light exuded from the device. It had to be fixed. Devola wiped down the flashlight, cleansing it of the stains.

The lack of conversation was disquieting. 9S was being far too quiet for her liking. She had to say something. "By the way, I don't appreciate the little prank you pulled."

9S was left genuinely puzzled. He froze in place and stared at her with a perplexed frown. "Huh? You mean when I hid behind that glass?"

Devola rolled her eyes. His poor acting did nothing to convince her. "Oh, please. Don't play dumb. I mean just now. With that radio. I know it was you."

"…The hell are you talking about? What radio?"

His tone conveyed his confusion quite clearly. Devola turned back to face him. She studied his expression for any signs of a lie being told. "That transmitter thing you left in the streets! You pinged it when I was near just to scare me. It didn't work! I knew it was you the whole time."

"But it wasn't me. I don't have any radios on me."

Devola groaned dismissively. "Whatever," she sighed. Ending the conversation. Deep down she had a feeling that he was telling the truth.

She never took his eyes off of him. 9S did not seem to particularly mind and carried on without complaint. Completely out of the blue, a thought occurred to Devola. Perhaps it was inspired by the gory hue of his eyes. It reminded her that they were not alone in this abandoned lot.

"Hey, Nines?"

9S paused right as he was preparing to scrub one of his forearms clean. "What's up?"

Her slender fingers curled into violent fists. "One of these days, I'll rip that thing out of you and kill it myself."

To that, 9S had no comment. There was still so much blood in his hair. He dunked his head beneath the water. For whatever purpose, he thought to open his eyes. It was murky, dark, and insanely lonely. Beneath the surface, it felt like he had stepped into a different world.

Putrid greens and browns surrounded him. He could see the surreal sight of asphalt below. Paved walkways once constantly exposed to eternal sunlight were now drowned beneath the waves.

Shadows accumulated before him. Gathering in a melding cluster. They took on a more distinctive shape. A feminine outline. 9S watched until spent air started escaping through his nostrils. He immediately resurfaced with a splash.

The sound of Devola's giggling was grounding. Comforting. "Having fun down there?"

9S smiled back at her but failed to think of an explanation for his behavior. Instead, he took a sharp inhale and submerged once more. Beneath the obsidian waters, 9S saw the final manifestation of those moving shadows. He became paralyzed with fear.

Floating beneath him was a girl no taller than he. Black hair drifted against rising bubbles. She wore a red dress. A pair of cobalt eyes met his own. Her lips were arched into an impossibly wide smile. Every muscle in her face was affected by it. Warped and contorted to a perturbing degree.

She began to sink despite the water's shallowness. Further and further until she disappeared behind a wall of darkness.

9S pulled himself from the abyss. He let out a long exhale. Devola was still laughing at him. Unaware of what was really going on, she likely assumed he was merely diving down for the fun of it.

"I almost wanna join ya," Devola admitted.

Her smile disappeared when 9S started to move her way. He climbed out of the pond, rushing to be free of the water.

"Done already?"

For the sake of her sanity, he decided to act as though all was normal. He dismissed the underwater encounter as nothing more than just another ghost.

"Yeah. Let's head back. I want to see how Popola's doing."

Devola stood up. "She's been wanting to see you too. Let's not keep her waiting."

She tossed him his tunic and stepped away. He followed her lead.

For the entire duration of the walk, 9S kept his head on a swivel. It was at a time when he had his guard down that Popola was attacked. It won't happen again.

His sword was drawn. Several times, it threatened to tilt downward and be dragged across the pavement. He managed to keep himself from idly doing that. The noise would only draw unwanted attention and Devola's ire.

Much of the trip was traveled in silence. Devola skipped down the road, only occasionally chiming in with idle chatter. She seemed more cheery than usual. Perhaps the survival of her sister gave her a morale boost. As far as he was concerned, it should have never happened in the first place.

In the dreary quiet, his mind wandered. A thought occurred to him. A crucial detail regarding them that he never recalled inquiring about. He debated whether or not he should bother but his inquisitive nature won out.

"Hey, Dev?"

Devola twirled around. She kept moving, walking backward whilst waiting for him to vocalize whatever was on his mind.

"Why did you and Popola put up with the Resistance at all? They hate you and they weren't shy about showing it."

"I… I was hoping ya wouldn't ask. A pair of Devola and Popola models betrayed humanity a long time ago. Because of that, most of us were destroyed. Anytime people figured out who we were, we became pariahs. We tried to hide our identities from time to time but it never worked."

"But why do you put up with them," 9S repeated, steering the conversation back to its original topic. "You don't have to stay at those camps. All they do is abuse you from what I can tell."

Merely saying it caused 9S's blood to boil. His sword started to rattle in his ever-tightening grip. At the back of his mind, he could feel something change but could not quite place what.

"We were programmed to feel guilt for what happened. It was mainly Popola who wanted to help the Resistance, though. We thought we could redeem ourselves and make the guilt go away if we just helped out. Healed people. Made a difference somehow. Did what we could for the sake of the humans we betrayed. No matter how much we did, it never seemed like enough. No matter where we'd go, we'd always be attacked or chased away."

Wicked laughter echoed inside 9S's skull. It was unlike the cherubic giggling he occasionally heard. Rather than an angelic infant, it belonged to the voice of a matured man. The laughter came from a masculine, authoritative source. One that 9S could swear he heard before.

Between it and the swelling rage directed solely at Anemone, he found it difficult to focus. Listening to Devola became taxing on his mind. No matter how hard he tried to process her words, they started to fade away. He felt her growing distant despite being right in front of him. Something beyond his comprehension was pulling him away.

It was too dark for Devola to notice his distressing frown. She carried on as though all were right with the world.

"You came along and broke that cycle, though. You, 153, even Amos. I never would have fathomed that. Let alone meeting you. To think even the likes of us could find someone who loves…"

Devola's monologuing came to a forced end. She averted her eyes in embarrassment. "Anyway, we get moving now. …Nines?"

His head lifelessly dangled as though it were about to fall off. Wet hair blocked her view of his face like a set of solid white curtains. The rain was starting to lessen. The wind abruptly slowed to a crawl.

Everything fell deathly quiet.

"You okay, Nines?"

"…"

Devola stepped forward. "C'mon. Say something! Don't get all worked up over stuff that can't be helped."

At last, his lips parted.

"That all must be very hard for you."

That voice. It did not belong to 9S. There was no way it could possibly be his. The deeper tone did not fit him at all. Whoever said that it was not 9S but it most certainly came from his direction.

He lifted his head. Red eyes glowed brighter than ever. His mouth was arched into a wide, hideous smile. A smile that should not have been impossible to produce.

Devola took a step back. It was all she could do before he lunged at her.

"Look upon my heart, dear Devola," the cherub demanded, speaking through 9S as though he were a puppet. Seizing control of the scanner's body, he drew Skald's Song. Devola had just enough time to yank Cruel Oath from the sheath at her hip and block the attack.

"Look upon my heart. And gaze into the image His likeness."

The golden blade was caught in the jagged edges of Skald's Song. Out of nowhere, an infernal red orb was generated by his sword. It circled him and hit Devola in her side. She felt the searing pain of being touched by magical fire. It exploded on contact, sending her flying across the street.

She landed in a shallow stream across the road. It was beyond refreshing to have that cool water caress the newly acquired burns on her arm. Knowing hesitation was death, she stood up and braced herself for a counterattack.

The cherub stood in place, watching her with that freakish smile. Seven more orbs of enchanted fire orbited around him like moons to a gas giant.

"To think you'd raise your arms against an angel. Bestowed upon this forsaken earth by the good graces of the Kingdom of Heaven. Shame on you, Devola. Lay down your sword and you shall find that God is merciful."

"You're the one," muttered Devola. Her words seethed with venomous resentment. "You're the one who's been doing all this! Driving him crazy with your voice!"

Why he finally decided to take control now of all times was beyond both her and her capacity to care. She charged forth. She had to seize control of this situation somehow or risk allowing 9S to potentially be lost forever.

"Then through violence, we shall settle our differences," the cherub nonchalantly proclaimed.

With a single sweep of Skald's Song, a wall of crimson orbs was generated from thin air. They were sent flying toward her in a uniform wave. She sidestepped to avoid them only to be met by yet another wall of magic heading her way. She repeated the process, practically dancing across the road just to get at him.

Their swords met again. A loud clang rippled through the air. Devola slashed at him repeatedly. Each strike was easily blocked however, she was not exactly trying to hit him. It was still 9S's body she was dueling. She merely tried to buy time until she could figure out what to do.

"Nines," she exclaimed as she ducked to dodge the numerous projectiles circling her opponent. "Nines! You gotta come back to me."

"He can't hear you, sweet Devola. And he's wasted too much of my precious time. I grow tired of being in this dying world."

The cherub shoved Devola back with all the strength 9S's body could muster. With appropriate distance cleared, he spun around in a circle, aiming his bejeweled sword to the earth. Wave after wave of magical spheres was sent in all directions. They bounced off the concrete like rubber balls.

Devola swung her sword every which way. She moved around and dodged them to the best of her ability yet even her best was not quite good enough. A lone orb hit her leg, electrifying her. She yelped and staggered back. The hesitation almost resulted in her getting hit by more of them but a quick swing of her sword saw the oncoming spheres destroyed.

When the cherub stopped spinning, so too did the orbs stop flying. Devola seized the chance. Prepared for her assault, he generated another eight balls of fire to orbit around his torso. Devola ducked and went straight for his legs.

He back-flipped out of the way just before she could slash at his feet. Her advance may have failed but it gave her an idea. She kept aiming for the legs, not to slice them off, but to simply get him to trip.

She made another attempt. The cherub appeared to be ready for her this time. He anticipated the lowered swing and blocked it. Cruel Oath bounced off of the teeth of Skald's Song. Out of the corner of her eye, Devola spotted an opening. With her free hand, she planted her palm in his face and attempted to force him onto the ground.

If only she could just restrain him.

Yet another failed try. She barely dodged a swing of his blade that nearly eviscerated her on the spot. Devola was, for a third time, forced to retreat. A large gap was left between her and her target.

The cherub staggered further away. He buried his face into his left palm. Through the gaps in his fingers, he stared Devola down. Watching carefully for any sudden movements.

"Damn this body," the divine being muttered beneath labored breaths. "How do you golems live in these sacks of meat?"

His hand slipped off of his face. Blood suddenly spurted out from the center of his forehead. A horizontal cut in his flesh manifested and peeled open, revealing a third eye underneath. The extra optic twitched grotesquely and locked on to Devola. It glowed the same shade of red. Blood trickled down from its lower lid like a scarlet tear.

Red energy was generated behind him. Angelic scripts coursed through the magical mass of light. Radiant gold runes that vibrated in tandem with each other. The mesh of energy separated and took the shape of yet more spheres, but they were not sent flying at Devola. They remained floating in place. Ripples erupted along the surface of the magical clusters. Enormous eyes manifested and flipped open.

"Nines!"

It had to end before more of his body could be damaged by that monster. She darted forward. The cluster of massive eyes floating in the air started to glow. Focused beams of red energy were ejected from their irises. Devola had to practically throw herself out of the way or be vaporized.

She recovered quickly and resumed the advance. At a moment's notice, she was on top of him again, blocking his flurry of swings with her own sword. Repeatedly, she kicked and swiped at his legs. His stance was not an easy one to break. In a desperate bid, she swung Cruel Oath at his feet, hoping he would stagger or vault backward. Instead, the cherub stood his ground and brought Skald's Song down over her head.

It all happened in an instant. She caught sight of the abrupt movement overhead and looked up. She saw the emerald sword glimmering in the dark. It was on the verge of decapitating her, however, his arm froze in place.

"What are you doing," the cherub exclaimed, struggling to move his own arm. He visibly fought against the body under his supposed control but was locked in a stalemate.

Devola smirked. She lunged. Dropping her sword in a last gambit to subdue him. "Keep fighting him," Devola shouted as she threw herself onto him. She was not sure how he was managing to fight for control but she did not allow her curiosity to slow her down.

She threw him to the ground, forcing him to face plant in the asphalt. The myriad of magical eyes behind him evaporated into nothingness. Both of his limbs were suspended in the same position. Devola grabbed both of his wrists and yanked his arms behind his back. Even with 9S's help, it was difficult to keep them in place. She needed a way to bind them.

An idea struck her. Staring at his gloved hands reminded her of it. She could only hope 9S still had it. She yanked off his left glove, and surely enough, that makeshift bandage was still there. A long strip of her shirt that she ripped off in order to stop the bleeding after 9S carved that ominous symbol into his hand. She jerked it loose. The wound was exposed, revealing that the cuts were still as fresh as the day she bandaged them.

There was no time to stop and ask why. She immediately wrapped it around his wrists. When she finally tied it all off, 9S fell limp. Both inhabitants of 9S's body ceased their duel. The cherub appeared to have given up for the time being. Anticipating he might try to tear them loose, she continued to hold him down.

An oddly soft whimper then graced her ears.

"Dev?"

Devola's eyes widened. "Nines? Are you there?"

The boy nodded. Those diseased red eyes shifted her way. Devola tilted her head to get a better look at his face. The third eye on his forehead disappeared into a cloud of red mist, leaving no wound or trace behind. She was beyond relieved to know that it was not a permanent fixture. Even more relieved to hear his voice again.

"I think," 9S groaned. "I think he's gone for now."

Devola tightened the fabric. "Sounds like it. Probably waitin' for us to drop our guard again. Sorry Nines, but I'm gonna have to keep ya like this for the time being. Just hang in there. Popola's been workin' on a plan to get rid of him. We'll just have to do it sooner than expected. A lot sooner."

"…I understand."