Chapter XXXVI:
Iron Homunculus
"That's such a beautiful sword," said No.9.
He admired it.
He beamed at it.
"Thanks for passing it on to me," 9S said with genuine gratitude hidden somewhere beneath his stern monotone.
No.9 looked at Popola then at Devola. He rolled his eyes. "Where's No.2?"
"She's dead."
"Amos?"
"Dead…"
No.9 took a moment. He nodded his head in understanding. He cast his brown eyes skyward as if searching for the dearly departed somewhere in the heavens above. There was nothing up that way but clouds and floating rocks. The sight grew mighty boring all too quickly for him.
"It's okay. When we rebuild my project, they'll all come back. Nobody dies with YoRHa around. They're reincarnated."
"There won't be another Bunker," 9S spoke with a sigh.
"You wanna go?"
9S responded with an indifferent shrug.
The scanners held up their respective swords. Skald's Song shook in 9S's grip. A generic blade manifested in No.9's palm. He raised the white sword and aimed it at his opponent.
"Tell ya what! Whoever wins gets to keep the sword."
9S stepped forward. "Fine by me."
Devola tried to move with him. 9S held out an arm to block her path.
"Huh," the redhead blurted. "What are you…"
"Hang back here."
"Nines, are you going nuts again? We're so close to the end! Let's finish this guy together and get back to our lives!"
"I said hang back."
Devola initially refused. Why should she? She had come this far. She twirled Caim's Sword in her hand and prepared to push past him. Another hand stopped her this time. Popola reached out and yanked her twin back.
"Let him have thissh."
She glared at Popola in shock. "But…!"
Popola nudged 9S forward. It was the last push he needed. He approached No.9. In turn, No.9 approached him.
"You know," No.9 spoke with a fading smile. He reared his arm to strike. "I never asked to be brought back!"
He swung his blade. The tip was carved into the stone pavement. 9S swayed from side to side and hopped when he needed to hop. He used the same moves the twins had taught him during their dance sessions.
No.9 lunged. He swung repeatedly at the air in front of him. Every strike drove 9S further back. Only the groove of his motions kept him from getting cut in half. 9S finally saw a means of striking back. He aimed his first swing at No.9's throat. He missed but the scanner had to throw himself backward just to evade. No.9 landed flat on his back. 9S kept advancing.
He prepared to thrust his sword downward. No.9 kicked his feet in a spiraling motion. It resembled more of a break dance than a recovery. His boots hooked behind 9S's knees and nearly flipped him over. 9S staggered away while No.9 leaped back to his feet and charged without hesitation.
9S felt a panging sting as the tip of his opponent's blade cut into his side. 9S retaliate by slashing his arm. The two fell away from each other but No.9 recovered faster. 9S turned away to clear distance only to be cut straight down his back. He stumbled away with a whimper.
Once more, No.9 cut down the center of 9S's back. He cried out and twirled back around. 9S landed a strike across No.9's chest. A graze. All they had done thus far was exchange grazes.
No.9 pranced backward and took a stance. Blood oozed through his tunic. 9S was in no better shape. Regardless, he charged without thinking.
Suddenly, he was stopped. A pair of slender arms grabbed 9S's shoulders, entangled his limbs, and held him back. He saw the familiar curves of Devola's hair out of the corner of his eye. "What the hell are you doing!?"
She said nothing.
Popola slid between him and his rightful opponent. Her eyes were zeroed on No.9. Her sword twitched in her fist.
No.9 slowly stepped back and braced himself.
"Wait," 9S cried out. "You said you wouldn't interfere!"
Popola ignored him. She charged forward. No.9 blocked her first swing, but not her second. She twirled with grace and speed. Mimicking the torrential motion of a wave crashing against the shore, she slashed him once through his eyes. Blood and pasty ooze squirted from his sockets.
He did not even have time to scream.
"Don't kill him!"
She spun again. The motion would've stolen the breath from 9S's lungs had it not been so terrifying.
This time she tilted and plunged her sword straight into No.9's plastic heart.
Popola yanked it free from his chest. Blood exploded from the wound. No.9 flopped to the ground without sound, without ceremony.
She glared down at her victim, and he was nothing short of a victim after that slaughter. Her eyes were devoid of emotion. Cold and calculated in a way 9S had never fathomed seeing on Popola before. Devola maybe but not her.
"Hate me if you want," she grumbled. "But you won't die today."
9S slumped down. Devola knelt with him. She nudged him and whispered straight into his ear.
"So… Was the journey worth it?"
"…"
~O~
The sandy wind kisses my cheek.
We're finally on our way out.
But that awful desert sun.
Sand shifted beneath my boots. So much sand. It was a sea of nothing but sand. Boiled, amber grains all pooled into this big soupy mess. One day, they say it'll cover the whole earth. I sure hope that doesn't happen.
"Stop," I hear Devola nag.
I look back. She and Nines are getting into it again.
"Stop what?"
"Kicking sand on my boots!"
"I'm not doing it on purpose!"
"Yes, you are! I see the damn smirk on your face! Cut it out before I give ya a reason to stop smirking!"
"Dev, we're literally wading in sand!"
I let their bickering fall into the background. I can't help but hold back a small smile. A sad little smile. The city is well behind us now. What's left of it. We leave behind a lot of memories. I still remember a time when the very thought of doing something like that was blasphemous to a certain someone among us.
"You never did answer my question," Devola nagged.
"Question? What question?"
"Was it worth it?"
"Devola," I scowl. They both ignore me.
9S fell quiet. It's impossible to answer. I kept my head on the path ahead. I picked up my pace and sure enough, they started to pick up their pace. The subject was dropped and they go back to rambling at each other over whatever came to their minds. Meanwhile, I'm the one cursed with wondering.
I'm almost tempted to look back but I refuse myself the chance. I don't want to see it again. That city. That ruined city of which I'm almost certain we're the only survivors. Nothing lives there now. Even the ghosts have moved on. It's only fair we do the same. Back to the same ol' thing with us. Repenting for our transgressions. Traveling aimlessly, but this time it won't be so bad.
I know full well now that it could always be worse. So much worse.
We're heading for the western horizon. A fresh journey without a destination in mind.