…
Death always seemed to drain something out of people. Perhaps it was the strange definition of death in this world? No matter who the person had been in life, falling at the hands of the shadows always crippled them. Whenever Charlie appeared to retrieve the newly fallen ex-Survivor, they would be dazed and quiet. Their eyes would be distant, confused. And they would never fight her. A few times, having observed the Survivors long enough, Charlie worried that they would fight. More than once she considered bringing Nightmare to such retrievals, if only for a protective measure. However, she had stopped even considering it after some time. If someone as supposedly ferocious as the self-appointed Valkyrie or the oft misguidedly defensive strongman didn't have the strength or wits to attack her, she doubted anyone would.
Although, on second thought, maybe she should've continued to keep her defenses up.
Charlie saw him long before he saw her, but she could see the way he stiffened up as if sensing her presence. The second she stepped out of the shadows and made her presence known, she was on the receiving end of a rather vicious punch.
She had to take a couple of steps back in order to regain her balance. Before the newly deceased robot could attack her again, she waved a hand a summon twin lengths of chains that sprouted from the ground and clasped around his wrists. She didn't like to use force, but she was also kind of afraid of being beaten senseless. He said nothing, but he did struggle at the restraints for a moment before resigning himself to simply glaring at her... although, if looks could kill, Charlie would be just as alive as he was.
"Be thankful," Charlie murmured. "That I didn't bring Nightmare along. There would be nothing left of your soul."
He shrunk back, although not in submission or fear. Rather, it looked like he was coiling, preparing himself to snap forward like a snake.
"Listen," she sighed. "I'm... just as unhappy about this as you are. But I am not your enemy. Come with me without fighting, and we might be able to save what little is left of you."
"I REFUSE TO BE A PART OF YOUR GAME," the robot snapped, bristling. "LET ME DIE."
"Well," Charlie started with a shrug. "You are dead, if that makes you feel better. At least... as close to death as you can come in this world."
He continued to glare at her.
"You should know very well it's impossible to bring someone back from death. Luckily the Constant is very forgiving about it. Instead of 'dying' in a traditional sense, your body and soul became weak enough to cross the barriers. Landing you here." She flourished her hands, beckoning to the dark landscape around them. "So, no, I can't just let you die. That would break the rules of the Game. Besides, if you completely disappeared, you would have no chance of coming back, would you?"
"AS IF I HAVE A CHANCE NOW?"
"Actually, you do." Charlie smiled softly. "Once Webber takes the Throne, bringing you back is the first thing he will do. Then, it'll be his sister."
This time, the robot physically recoiled. A flash of uncertainty passed over his face. "HE WOULDN'T. NOT FOR ME."
"It's not like he can fight that destiny. I suppose he could have, if you hadn't taken that hit for him. But you did, and he survived that battle."
At that, his choice seemed to weigh on him. He looked tired, more beaten down, more like what was expected of someone who had just brutally died.
"TAKE ME TO MAXWELL," he finally said. By the tone of his voice, it was a demand, not a request. Then again, that had been exactly what Charlie was supposed to do in the first place.
As the manacles around his wrists disappeared, Charlie prepared herself to be attacked again. Instead, the robot stumbled over himself as if surprised that he had actually been released. He shot an distrustful glare Charlie's way, but she paid no mind to it.
Neither one of them spoke, instead settling on a crisp silence unbroken by wind or animals. In its place was the rhythmic taps of Charlie's feet on the cool marble. Even the robot's footsteps were completely silent, a far cry from what was normal for him.
The narrow hall of darkness suddenly opened up. Torches blossomed to light as Charlie stepped into the Throne room. They were surrounded on all sides by glowing white eyes, blinking and wavering just on the edge of perception. Charlie chose not to pay any attention to Them, having grown quite used to Their presence. Instead, she fixed her gaze on the red eyes of Nightmare, standing just out of the flickering light.
"Maxwell," Charlie greeted coolly, dropping to one knee in front of the Nightmare Throne. Maxwell had one leg thrown over the other, and a thoughtful hand on his chin. Charlie could see the shadowy binds, pulling any parts of him not in direct contact towards the surface of the Throne.
The Nightmare Captor regarded them both coldly. The robot, for his part, stood stiffly under the piercing glare, almost as if challenging Maxwell to make a move. Maxwell said nothing, only leaned back a moment later, appearing utterly bored by this game.
Charlie could see the shift in the shadows as Nightmare took in the prisoner. Its presence swelled, its palpable rage boiling until the room felt icy.
"What. Is. That?" The demon snarled. One by one, the torches around them flickered out and died, allowing Nightmare full control to slip out of the darkness. The robot continued to stand against it, but even he had to take a step backward as they were plunged into inky blackness. Charlie could sense his fear.
"Leave it, Nightmare," Maxwell said breezily. He waved a hand as if shooing Nightmare away, which only caused it to anger further.
"This is not the spider!" Nightmare roared. The beast moved around the robot, a calculating glare taking in every detail of his body as if hoping that he would suddenly turn into the Young Heir. While likely completely blind in the darkness, the robot could clearly sense its presence. Remaining standing was a sheer act of defiance at this point. One that had to take a massive amount of courage.
"He took the hit," Charlie said.
"The heir was not supposed to survive that battle," Nightmare growled. "His path leads him directly to the fifth now." Its claws curled into a fist, as if it was crushing another orb in the world between worlds. "We should have kept him far away from that cursed creature. Let both of their lives crumble into emptiness."
"The One True Heir can't climb out of what you did to him, even with Webber's help," Charlie responded, an underlying layer of ice slicing through her words. "In case you forgot, you murdered the mother of his child in cold blood, and made him watch. I don't think you have to worry about any uprising from him for a very long time."
"That boy is too much like his daughter. If anyone can pull him out of his insanity, it is him."
"Nightmare," Maxwell interrupted. "You are dismissed."
The demon bristled, clearly enraged at being cast aside so easily, but bound by the rules to obey its master, Nightmare slinked past Charlie and the robot and disappeared into the darkness. As it did, the lights flared back to life, and the robot blinked several times as if adjusting to the brightness. He kept his mouth shut, though, much to his credit.
Charlie let her shoulders hang, her defenses wearing down quickly in front of the Nightmare Captor. "I'm tired," she confessed with a sigh.
"As we all are," Maxwell agreed. His eyes flickered to the robot, who was doing a very good impression of someone who was not listening, even though he definitely was.
"If he ever returns, it'll be after our reigns," Charlie pointed out. "Ignore him."
"Everything is falling into place nicely," Maxwell said. "Though, I wish it didn't take nearly this long. He has his eyes set on the Throne?"
"I can't say entirely, but that spider is doing a very good job of convincing him."
Maxwell nodded approvingly. "And you will make sure that he finds his way to the archipelago?"
The robot visibly perked up at this, his interest piqued.
"Yes, of course."
"Good." Maxwell leaned back, humming thoughtfully. "Now that the opening act is finally completed, it is time for the real show to begin."