Chapter XXV:
In Cupid's Shadow
Another day would pass before the time finally came. Devola and Popola spent much of the past 24 hours practicing the dance required to conduct the ritual. When the confidence to perform it was gained, all that remained was to execute Popola's plan.
The slow strumming of Devola's lute was heard all across the thirteenth floor.
Pod 153 loitered Amos' room. The two tested their weapons and ensured everything was in working order. Amos placed stacks of explosives and munitions throughout the room where 9S was kept.
What followed all of the preparations and commotion was an interval of total silence. Not unease, yet most certainly not a product of comfort either. No one had anything to say and there was but one objective plaguing the group's collective thoughts.
Pod 153 wrapped up all last-minute testing on her turret, ensuring for what was likely the fifth or sixth time that her defensive and offensive capabilities were indeed operational. She then looked to the empty walls, moldy floors, the relaxing Legionnaire sat against one of those desolate walls. She wanted to speak yet no words ever came out.
Amos repeatedly tossed a ball up in the air. He was always impressed by the little things he could find after spending a few minutes rummaging around in piles of debris and ancient garbage. He was equally impressed with his own ability to be distracted by the most insignificant of toys.
Some rustling on the other side of the room caused him to pause. Pod 153 floated to a corner of the room. It sounded as if she were scratching at her arms. The forlorn that permeated the air seemed to be getting to her. The anxiety of fighting a Watcher never truly struck Amos as he assumed it would. He merely sat there, waiting to fight and die in the name of the Prince without a hint of fear. The opponent never matter so long as there was an opponent to dominate.
Amos threw the ball her way. It struck her in the back and bounced to the floor. Pod 153 turned around. She saw the ball beneath her. She saw Amos with an arm outstretched, silently beckoning for her to throw it back.
The drone picked it up and tossed it to him. Amos responded by catching it and throwing it at her once more. A game of catch ensued.
It did not last.
"Can I have your attention," came a voice from behind.
The ball landed in 153's claws. She allowed it to slip between her metallic appendages. The two turned around. Popola stood in the doorway. A sorrowful frown cursed her visage. Her staff was held firmly in her dominant hand.
She exchanged glances between the two companions. "It's time."
A complicated circle was carved into the concrete floors around 9S's chair. Runes, geometric shapes, lines, and symbols all carefully selected by Amos were etched throughout. While he was the creator, he knew better than to go anywhere near it after completion. Being made of White Maso, he was one of the only two in the room susceptible to its curse. He stood on the far end of the chamber, rifle loaded and ready. 153 hovered just overhead.
Devola and Popola closed in on the circle. They took up positions on either side of 9S. Their weapons were already drawn. Well prepared for the worst-case scenario to unfold.
At the center of it all was 9S. His head hung low as it had since he was placed in that chair. His silver bangs concealed his face. Skald's Song was propped up on the wall nearest the exit. Its sparkling jewel taunted him.
"This is it," Popola solemnly announced. "If everything works as intended, the entity clinging to you will be cast out and sent somewhere else."
9S's head slowly rose. "And if it fails?"
"Several possible outcomes. Ranging from it being brought into our material space, all the way to… uh… your death. Potentially."
"What," exclaimed Devola. "You never mentioned that!"
"It's highly unlikely," said Popola, bowing her head. Her hands trembled. The staff shook beneath them. "But still possible, I suppose. I'm only trying to brace for the worst possible outcomes."
Amos took interest in that phrase. It stirred a memory. A memory long thought forgotten. A voice whispered beneath an ocean of idle daydreams.
"Remember, Rookie. Around here we pray for the best but prepare for the worst. Now get your gun, grab a parachute, and find a seat. It's gonna be a long flight."
Doing exactly that, he checked his rifle one last time. Ensuring there was a round in the chamber. He then flipped off the safety, producing a loud click.
Devola stared down at 9S. "Are you sure about this? We could find another way! With more time, we could…"
"It's fine, Dev. Just get it over with already. I've got stuff to do later."
Popola refrained from saying anything on the topic. She took a step forward and lifted her staff high in the air. "Is there anything else that needs to be said?"
"This support unit has something!"
All eyes shifted to Pod 153. She meekly floated forward. Closer to 9S. "This support unit would like to ask for Unit 9S's forgiveness."
9S furrowed a quizzical brow at the drone. "What are you talking about?"
"Do you not recall? This support unit was the one to take half your memories. I have also come to believe that it was this support unit's faulty means of repairing you that directly enabled this possession to happen."
153 lowered herself to the floor, displaying a pleading bow. "And when Unit 9S retrieved me, it was promised that you would forgive me in due time. So, please… Please forgive this support unit for her transgressions!"
It sounded as though she were holding back a swell of digitized tears. 9S's head dropped again. He stared down at his chained feet. This unexpected display of emotions perturbed him. "You're forgiven. And I'm sorry for being so horrible to you. Now, get off the floor."
Pod 153 obeyed the order. There was but one more thing left lingering in her thoughts. "There is no knowing for certain what will happen to you after this operation is complete. This support unit estimates the probability of death is low, but still a probability. The entity likely influences your thoughts, actions, and personality. The ritual may well result in Unit 9S adopting an entirely new personality."
"Yeah," 9S snarled back. "And what's your point?"
"This support unit would like to offer you the chance to voice any final thoughts. To express any sensations or emotions that you may currently be experiencing. It may be the last time you will have or know them."
Popola gulped. She did not like the sound of it, but she could not disagree. She breathed heavily. "Nines… Any final words?"
9S took one last look at the four companions who helped him arrive at this point. All did so in their own ways. From Popola to his right to Devola on his left. Popola's calmness and rationality protected his psyche from total destruction. Devola's crude bluntness, on the other hand, kept him firmly grounded to reality.
He blushed. He did not utter a word but briefly reflected on the time spent with them. His lips tingled with the recollection of the one kiss he shared with them thus far.
A treasured memory.
His crimson eyes shifted to Pod 153 at the back of the room. He forced a soft smile, fighting back the sorrow invoked from the sight of her mutilated arms. She deserved better treatment. He did not voice this thought. A fleeting regret allowed to fade as soon as it surfaced.
The final member of his party stood next to her. Of course, the forever muted Amos. He failed to see the Legionnaire eyes behind those bulky night-vision goggles. His nonchalant stance was always reassuring. It seemed there was nothing in this world a fighter as elite as he had to fear. Even under the threat of a cosmic being with unknowable power, Amos seemed more relaxed than ever. Defiantly holding his rifle, ready for anything.
9S idolized that aspect of his pale companion. He could only hope that one day, perhaps he could be just like Amos. As before, he kept quiet. His desire to exist under the same standards as his unconventional role model retreated from the forefront of his mind.
"Nines," asked Devola, concerned by his sudden bout of silence.
The boy smiled. Those ruby eyes once again lowered to his shoes.
"…Nothing."
Popola inhaled sharply. "So be it then."
Without the need to vocalize an order, Popola and Devola started to move. They danced around the circle. Sigils lit up with crimson energy with each step they took. Each sway of their bodies brightened the glow of the engravings at 9S's feet. He watched as they moved and smiled. Seeing the twins dance was always a sight he found entrancing. If this truly was to be his final sight, then he considered himself lucky.
He closed his eyes. The world felt distant all of a sudden. Faraway.
In the backdrop, Pod 153 and Amos spread apart and took up positions on either side of the chamber. Prepared for a fight if such a calamity should arise.
Amos paid careful attention to the circle. Celestial characters manifested in the air above and rose to the ceiling. All seemed to be going well. However, an unexpectedly abrupt movement from 9S caught his eye. He looked down at the boy.
Amos realized that one of the chains that should have been keeping his left foot contained had somehow come loose. His boot was moving around in a peculiar motion. There was a glimmer beneath the sole of his shoe. The shimmering reflection upon a fragment of glass.
Two and two came together quite easily. Amos lunged forward, extending a clawed hand at the twins. He roared at them, hoping they would hear, and ceased their movements. He was far too late.
A symbol beneath 9S's foot started to glow along with the rest of the circle. An illustration that was never meant to go with that circle. An explosion of light erupted from that corner of the room. The entire wall behind 9S was sundered under its force. The twins were thrown to the opposite side of the room.
The light was blinding. The explosion subsided, but that heavenly white glow persisted. It shined down on the decrepit building. It was bright enough to resemble the daytime sun. Everyone averted their eyes. Amos quickly removed his goggles. The large consecration of light rendered them a hindrance.
Devola and Popola picked themselves up. Their eyes soon adjusted to the brightness. The room was totaled. It resembled the aftermath of a bomb having been set off in the middle of the floor. They set their sights heavenward.
Hovering high above them was the source of that warm radiance. An enormous span of wings. Perfect white feathers to match the light they bathed in. The creature resembled an infant of horrifying size with a full head of blond hair. Each lock curled to perfection. Above those golden locks hovered a blinding halo. A blanket of red velvet was outstretched over the entity's lap.
A pair of judgmental eyes watched them from above. A smile took form on the cherub's chubby face, revealing a full set of pearly teeth.
"I do apologize," came a deep voice. The words fell upon them from on high. "Your setup was perfect, I grant you Unfortunately for all of us, I cannot return home. For I am not allowed. Not yet."
From a pile of rubble near the newly created ledge, a dark figure shuffled. Popola noticed the movement.
"Nines!"
She was beyond relieved to see him still standing. She tried to get a look at his eyes. To see if the color had finally changed. However, the blinding light cast an impenetrable shadow over his face.
He looked up to meet her gaze. "What? What's going on?"
"No time," Devola snapped. She sprinted forward, picking up his sword along the way. When she was within a safe distance, she tossed the blade his way. 9S fumbled to catch it.
With a weapon in hand, he turned and faced the light.
A mortified gasp escaped his throat.
"That's the cherub," he asked in horror. "That's what was inside me!?"
The Cherub responded with a warm smile. "Nice to meet you, 9S. Yes, I am the one. This isn't how I imagined a confrontation to go, but here we are."
With a quick motion of his stubby fingers, the Cherub summoned columns of red light all around the room. They surrounded the party of five. Small creatures emerged from the lights. A familiar insectoid buzz rang in their ears. Devola gripped Cruel Oath in fear. That sound alone was enough to provoke terrifying flashbacks.
Infants of a normal size emerged from the crimson columns. Hovering over the floor on wings akin to that of a fly. Their limbs resembled what one would find on the bodies of writhing insects.
One of them swooped in and slashed at Amos. The soldier caught the creature without issue. He squeezed the monster's squishy body until it exploded into a cloud of gore. Their infantile cries cursed the air.
As the cherub's grotesqueries closed in on all sides, he took aim with his bow and sent an arrow straight for them. It exploded on contact with the ground, nearly flinging everyone off their feet.
Popola looked back to her group, most of whom were already defending themselves from the advancing abominations. In a split second, Popola made a decision. "Devola! Nines!"
In between slashing and blocking, the two looked up.
"You two take care of the smaller ones. Keep them off our backs. Amos! Pod! Help me kill this thing."
A formation was taken. As cherubic aberrations poured forth, Devola and 9S did as told. They focused solely on culling the numbers.
This gave the only three members of the group with the ability to engage at range to focus on the larger threat in the sky. The angelic being on high seemed uninterested in flying any closer. He hovered there, well out of the reach of any sword strikes.
The Cherub lifted his arms, exposing his palms to his opponents. A single eye split open from beneath the porcelain skin of each palm. Black pupils focused on them. The surrounding red irises started to glow.
Anticipating an attack, Amos charged forward and crouched behind cover. He rested his rifle on an outcropping chunk of wall and opened fire. He sent five explosive rounds at the right hand. At a preset time, the detonations were triggered. They burst in the air all around the Cherub's hand, forcing him to lower it and reel back.
Inspired by the act, Pod 153 floated closer to the left. She charged a beam of energy and fired it straight at the other eye, landing a direct hit. The Cherub screeched. Popola used the opportunity to lash out with a flurry of magical orbs. She sent them straight for the Cherub's center of mass.
With alarming speed, the angelic monster vaulted in mid-air and well out of the way. He twirled around, the flapping of his wings sent a sharp gust of wind that knocked the three of them off their feet.
They recovered, picking themselves up off the floor just in time to see a spark of light in the Cherub's right hand. An arch of golden radiance that took the form of a bow crafted of pure light. An enormous arrow of similar energy formed in his left hand. He aimed and fired it.
Slicing through the sky, the arrow exploded into a dozen shards and peppered the area with explosions of light.
The back of the room was largely spared from this assault. Devola and 9S remained there, drawing attention and intercepting any of the creatures that tried to attack Popola and the others from behind.
Several of them advanced on 9S from multiple angles. One of them lunged on the android from a blind spot, sinking its needle-like teeth into his calve. 9S yelped and stomped at the thing. Another latched on to his left arm.
That was pain he felt. Actual pain. It was almost hard to fathom.
With no better option, 9S activated his self-destruct function. A single blast wiped out a healthy chunk of the abominations but left him staggered and weak. His clothes were tattered from the blast.
He could see yet more approaching. He braced for another onslaught. Devola suddenly slid in front of him. She shot a glare at him from over her shoulder.
"Having trouble?"
9S smiled at her with almost uncharacteristic cheeriness. An absurdly odd reaction.
"Maybe a little. At any rate, I think we're surrounded."
Devola gritted her teeth and aimed Cruel Oath forward. "Certainly seems that way. Any ideas?"
"Actually, yes! Stand close."
Curious but in no position to argue, Devola did as told. She backed up until her shoulder brushed up against his.
The hybrid beasts drew closer.
"Okay! I'm here. Now, what!?"
"Just a sec," 9S exclaimed.
"We don't have a sec!"
9S tuned her out. He motioned Skald's Song as though he were trying to slash thin air with it. Nothing happened. The scanner started to panic. He repeated the process again and again. On the third try, he achieved the desired result.
Multiple orbs of red fire manifested in the air. They orbited around the sword and its wielder. Ecstatic that it worked, 9S nearly forgot that there were hostiles in the area. The sudden emergence of magic gave the surrounding creatures reason to pause their gradual advance.
"That's it! I figured out how to use this thing!"
Devola was baffled by what she saw. They were the same orbs generated during her first confrontation with the Cherub. She assumed it was the monster who created them, not an ability of the sword.
"The hell!? How did you do that?"
"That monster up there used it too, remember," 9S asked with a smirk. "I had a front-row seat to see how he did it."
He was still acting strangely. More energetic.
"Great," Devola fired back nervously. "Now, how 'bout using it against these little guys before we're eaten alive!?"
"Uh… Right! Forgot about them…"
"HOW!?"
He ignored her and slowly advanced. Not wishing to be hit by the orbs, Devola stayed close.
Close to the ledge, Popola applied constant pressure on the enemy. She fired off wave after wave of magic. The wound in her side throbbed with pulses of sharp pain. She fought through the agony with all her available strength. Dancing with each swing of her staff.
Amos applied his own constant barrage of fire alongside 153. They did as much damage as possible but the Cherub was simply not going down. It showed no signs of weakening.
"Dammit," Popola exclaimed. The distressed android backed away from the ledge. She took a moment to study the target. If it had any weakness, they were not exactly obvious.
A third eye opened up on the creature's forehead just above his brows. There was no time to attack it. Four rays of light fired out of the pupil and spiraled around slicing through walls and support beams. The entire building groaned under the assault. It was threatening to cave in.
The trio was forced to take cover. The attack relented in only a few seconds but the devastation it caused was alarming.
"Oh, I am enjoying this," the Cherub chuckled from afar. "I thank you for this chance to stretch my wings."
"It'll also be the last," Popola muttered beneath labored breaths.
She turned to Amos. The Legionnaire was found still ducking behind a hunk of fallen ceiling.
"Amos! I have a plan but I need a distraction."
Amos gave her a reassuring thumbs-up. She was beyond satisfied with his willingness to participate.
"Think of something quick! I'll draw his attention!"
She promptly ran out of cover and resumed her relentless assaults. Arrows were fired back in retaliation but Popola dodged each of them. The task, however, was not an easy one. Amos could see her struggling. Occasionally clenching her wounded side to suppress the pain.
Amos pressed his hand to his chin. He brainstormed a plethora of ideas. It was only one when 153 floated overhead, on her way to help Popola, that one plot, in particular, popped up. Grinning deviously, he reached out of cover and tapped her on the back.
She turned around. "Do you require assistance?"
Amos eagerly nodded his head. His helmet slumped over. He was quick to adjust it. Tipping it out of his line of sight.
The Legionnaire then set off for a fallen wall to the right. A cluster of contorted rebar jutting out of decimated concrete was his destination. He scaled to the top, careful not to fall off and into the urban oblivion below. Pod 153 had no clue what the plan was. The fact that it remained a mystery was frightening indeed, but she pressed on regardless.
The Cherub was still facing Popola. Amos assumed it was time to make his presence be known. He yanked a grenade from his belt, pulled the pin, and threw it. The explosive was sent flying and erupted into a ball of fire uncomfortably close to the Cherub's right shoulder. He immediately turned to face the disturbance.
"Amos," the angel bellowed. "I take your betrayal to mean the Legion will no longer be assisting us? I always suspected as much from the likes of you and your vindictive leader. Yet no one ever listened to me back in those days."
The baiting worked. The Cherub's bow dissolved into nothingness. He instead held out his dominant hand, allowing the eye in his palm to split open. It started to glow. Amos smiled back at it.
Without any semblance of a warning, Amos shoved 153 forward and over the ledge. Just like that, she was forced to fly straight at the Cherub with no small amount of hesitation.
"Pod 153 to Unit Amos," 153 frantically pleaded. "Please find a way to elaborate what you intend us to…"
Amos leaped after her. He held out his hand and grabbed hold of her claws just as he was starting to descend. 153 struggled to hold up the weight of so much salt. Amos then pointed at the monstrosity before them. Assuming this gesture could only mean one thing, Pod 153 swallowed her fear and flew forward, dragging Amos along with her.
Popola watched it all unfold from below. She looked on, utterly baffled by Amos' choice of distraction. She watched as 153 dropped him on the creature's arm. Subsequent explosions were set off all along the thing's body. He and 153 scurried around his torso, firing their weapons and wreaking as much havoc as possible.
The Cherub was forced to twirl and writhe to try and shake them off. It was exactly what Popola needed.
She ran to the center of the ledge and aimed with her staff. Just as she was about to look back and check on Devola and 9S, the broken body of one of those abominations flew past her and over the edge.
The two ran up to her on either side. She smiled with relief.
"I take it we're clear back there?"
9S nodded with a prideful smile. "Yep. Now, what?"
"Hey," Devola interjected. She pointed skyward. "Is that Amos up there!? The hell is he doing!? How did he…!?"
"Sister," Popola interjected. "Nines! Grab onto something, and whatever you do, don't let go."
Confusion struck them, but neither of the pair needed to be told twice. 9S ran over to an outcropping metal beam and gripped it for dear life. Devola found a similar metal beam close to her sister and latched on.
"What's going on," screamed Devola. "What are you planning!?"
She gave no answer, opting instead to simply show Devola.
Popola took up a stance, gripping her staff firmly with both hands. She fired off a small black orb that froze in the air halfway between her and the winged monster. With all her focus, she allowed it to expand. It swelled to massive proportions. A gravitational pull was exuded from the sphere, threatening to suck up anything that got caught up. As the orb grew in size, so too did the strength and reach of its pull.
Popola shouted at the top of her lungs. "AMOS! POD! GET BACK HERE! RIGHT NOW!"
Just beneath the Cherub's halo, Amos was firing his rifle in all directions. Any area that could be harmed. Amos did what he could to damage the monster but none of his weapons were producing significant results. All the while, he sunk his claws into the beast's pale flesh to keep from being flung off.
153 was above him. She was the first to notice both the massive void manifesting uncomfortably close to them as well as Devola. She waved frantically at them with one arm while the other was busy holding tightly onto a beam of rusted metal.
"Pod 153 to Unit Amos. It is time to retreat. Please follow me."
Amos looked up. He flinched at the sight of that enormous void. As 153 moved on, he rushed to keep up. He leaped from the monster's head and grabbed hold of 153's arms. He was carried safely around the dark orb and dropped onto the damaged floor.
"Hold on, you two," Devola ordered. "My sister's lost her damn marbles!"
Completely panicked, both Amos and 153 picked a random stretch of floor and dug their respective claws into the concrete.
The void just kept growing. Popola felt her feet slide forward. She suddenly realized that she was the only one without cover. She kept sliding. Slowly but surely. Regardless, Popola did not relent.
She continued to expand the void until even the Cherub started to struggle against its pull. He swayed back and forth. He flapped his wings in a desperate bid to escape the event horizon.
Popola resigned herself to this fate. She forced a smile. Her lips parted. Just when she was about to utter her last "I love yous" and be whisked away to a crushing demise, a soft hand gripped her forearm. Popola was then finally taken off her feet, but that handheld firm. Someone was holding her back.
She looked over her shoulder. Devola held onto her sister with one hand. Her other still desperately clung onto that iron bar. Popola caught sight of tears swelling in Devola's eyes.
She gave her sibling a reassuring smile.
The Cherub, on the other hand, had no one to cling to. Only the might of his wings kept him from being swallowed whole and even they were beginning to fail. He inched closer to a horrifying fate.
He breathed in and searched the clouded skies for salvation but it did not come. He was on his own. He knew full well his kin would not bother to interfere with his plight.
Photons were pulled from his radiant form and consumed by the void. Divine, luminescent particles that traveled in beautiful arches. They orbited around the gravity well and were eventually consumed. Ribbons of irreplaceable light were snuffed out in an instant, never to shine again.
His three eyes widened with heinous fury.
"You shall never extinguish the light of lights!"
He took hold of his bow and fired arrows repeatedly at it. Hoping to defeat the darkness with an overwhelming wave of light. One after another, each arrow was eaten whole by the gluttonous void. Coils of golden energy were fired off like missiles from behind his wings, spawned by the shedding of white feathers. They swarmed the void but they too fell victim to gravity.
He stared into its cold emptiness. There was no other choice. He made one last gambit to escape.
His wings expanded as far as they could reach. They cast a shadow over the entire coastline. They were so impossibly huge. Illuminated strings expanded from underneath layers of feathers and stretched even further across the shoreline. They resembled glowing grapevines. Each one sprouted enumerable plant-like bulbs. The bulbs sprouted, revealing bulging eyeballs that looked out to the mortal world in forlorn. Each eye was a host of abject sorrow.
They shined with vibrant energy and in a moment's notice, each one fired a beam of light straight ahead. They then turned inward, dragging those immense beams straight at the void as well as the troublesome android that summoned it.
Within a flash, a white light consumed the entire city block. A column of light that shined all across the ruins.
Then, everything went black.
Note: Some may recall the note I left in the 12th chapter. I mentioned thinking about using an actual Watcher more akin to what was seen in Drakengard but chose the insect-baby thing instead. In hindsight, I'm glad I did that because it means I can now do this.
The first outlines of the story never dealt with the Watcher that was possessing 9S. It was after Chapter 12 that I decided to change that. I didn't just want to have a mute cherubic monster like what was seen in DoD, though. I wanted to differentiate him a bit. To give him dialogue and a story arc. I based his look primarily off Cupid.