Life has plans...
Most of the time, they didn't work out.
Vera hadn't wanted to stop at Oak Town; he'd hoped to get to Magnolia. Sho hadn't planned to steal from Jose; Phantom Lord merchandise fit the description. Number 8 hadn't intended to destroy the cellar; he just wanted to kill the monster in the mirror.
"Well, what are you waiting for..."
At that moment, with Jose waiting like a child to see how an ant would react if he left his foot over it, every plan collapsed. Vera and Number 8 were trembling as the nauseous magic fluttered through the air, polluting it like a smog that prickled every nerve in their bodies.
"You made me come out here; you better make it interesting."
There was nothing comparable to it, and in this instance, the two ended up doing the first thing they could bring their minds to do, an instinct engrained into their bodies from their time at the lab. Where at one point or another, both of them were placed against an unbeatable enemy...
"Thread Magic: Razor"
They struggled.
"SHO!"
A single razor-sharp horizontal thread, followed by an enraged shadow, shot out toward Jose, who only tilted his head in response. A slight, amused smirk caught his lips as he watched the attacks come towards him, barely giving a whisper of purple energy as he guided the ghosts under his command.
"Shade Magic"
He expertly molded their gluttonous energy into his finger; their ghostly wails muted as he looked unbothered at the incoming attacks. He swiped his hand upwards, releasing an arc of fluid purple magic and red static that severed the lines of thread barreling towards him and cleanly bisected the shadow hiding behind them.
"Dead Slash"
Jose smirked as he saw his attack continue between the two boys, separating them and cutting into the ground before slicing through the wall behind them. Jose mentally clicked his tongue as he felt the tower shudder from his attack because he hadn't meant to do even more damage to the old building; he had just gotten a little excited once he saw their initial reactions to his presence...
"Going straight for the kill?"
They were making this trip much more enjoyable.
"Kids are a lot more vicious than I remember."
Jose shook his head mockingly as he saw the two boys glance wearily at the remnants of his attack before turning towards each other, with the black-haired boy giving a quick mutter before sending his shadow at Jose once again, "Let's switch."
Jose raised an eyebrow at the cryptic message, even more so as the blue-haired boy, whose eyes widened a fraction of an inch, seemed to understand and immediately started folding threads together. Jose watched with curiosity as he ignored the shadow tearing towards him.
"Can't you see I'm busy?"
With a single wave of his finger, another arc flew, this time with more control so it didn't cut through the building. Jose ignored the shadow's swift demise as he watched the boy with blue hair, the stronger of the two if Jose had to guess, grasping a creation of tightly bound thread densely packed with magic yet finely tuned enough to keep its complex structure.
"Thread Make: Spear"
Jose whistled in appreciation of such a masterfully crafted weapon, his eyes watching with interest as the boy threw it at him with as much force as he could muster. Jose hummed before moving his hand, bathed in dead magic, to destroy the projectile. Jose was uncaring for its trajectory until he heard the blue-haired boy give a thin whisper as if a latent command to the spear that was already entirely in flight.
"Thread Magic: Binds"
Jose blinked in surprise as the spear, only a few feet from him, exploded into a web of threads that sought to wrap him in its embrace. Jose narrowed his eyes as the web covered his vision for an instant before pointing at the net, his dead magic compounding into a small ball that hovered past the edge of his index finger.
"Shade Magic: Dead Beam"
Jose let the ball explode in a laser that hit the web dead center, resulting in an explosion, blasting the useless contraption with a puff of purple smoke and a tint of red lightning. Jose watched with unbothered eyes as the smoke cleared and the threads fluttered to the ground, torn apart and freeing his line of sight.
Huh...
Jose tilted his head as he saw the path behind it empty, littered with trash from long ago but with the boys nowhere in sight. Jose gave an impressed whistle once he realized they had used the small screen to run when his vision was covered.
Smart.
Jose hummed as he scanned the room, his eyes going toward the freshly closed hatches that led up and down the tower. Jose gave a slight, amused chuckle as he scratched his chin and let his thoughts leave him with an impressed mutter, "So they split up..."
It was the correct move, especially when facing an enemy that couldn't be beaten. It was better for an ally to escape by fleeing than lose everyone fighting an impossible battle.
"How unfortunate..."
Sadly, that was only a truth that came with fighting a single enemy.
"Shade Magic: Shade Troopers"
Jose let his magic flood the open air in its twisted glory, the shimmer of his ghastly troopers hovering above him like a mirage in the desert. The most basic skill in his repertoire was the creation of beings of darkness, ghostly visages hidden under dark purple cloaks. Their red eyes peered from underneath with a matching red emblem on their back, not a powerful spell by any means; their true power only came from when they were combined, but it was perfect for this situation.
"Form a perimeter around the tower; don't let either escape."
The cackles of his shades were the only response, their wispy faces blurring as they flew out of the tower. Their howls rang through the air before the tower and all its surroundings were littered with shades that passed through the air like locusts. Each one was waiting for one of their targets to poke their head out of the tower and waltz into their waiting arms.
Now that that's settled...
Jose walked through the disgruntled room, his eyes glancing at the two options as he said, "Up or down..."
Jose was curious to see who would be unlucky enough to run into him...
"Guess I'll wait till he makes his choice."
As well as who would be unlucky enough to run into his Ace.
Number 8 felt his breath shudder as he scaled that ladder as fast as his bones could. His beath fluctuated as he used his threads, the few he could bring into existence, to speed up his ascent.
Who the hell is he...
Number 8 had never felt anything like it before, the feeling of death and hunger. The sickening magic that felt like it shouldn't, no, it couldn't be allowed to exist. A twisted dream that made itself known to the world, with every whisper of energy paired with a wail of the dead.
I've never-
Number 8 felt his heart stop as the ground floor, a few stories below him, erupted with that very same magic. The cackles of ghosts echoed through the air as Number 8 sped up his climb, a dagger in his hands once he was within throwing distance of the latch to the final room.
What spell did he use...
Number 8 didn't know, but he couldn't stop to think about it. Once in range, he threw his dagger at the top of the ladder, using it as a grapple to pull himself the rest of the way up. Number 8 jumped into the final room, the highest in the tower, before shutting the hatch without glancing down the path he came from.
How did he-
'Thud'
Number 8 whipped his head towards one of the grated windows, his eyes wide as he saw a ghost-like being pounding on it. Its red eyes met his with a cackle before flying off, revealing the sky littered with them. Ten, twenty, maybe even thirty were flying around like vultures waiting to pick off their prey once it had finally died.
We're surrounded...
Number 8 released a shaky breath; his eyes harrowed as he looked back at the closed hatch. Number 8 forced his pounding heart to calm down as a relaxed, calculated demeanor inched into his chest. His eyes narrowed as he looked back at the window, quickly giving a count of the shades outside.
Twenty-eight... there's twenty-eight of them.
It was a lot, but they seemed less robust in appearance than the dogs. They were probably weaker, considering he didn't see them holding weapons. They were flying around without aim and didn't seem hostile, at least not at the moment.
They'll probably attack when I try to leave...
That seemed to be their sole purpose. Otherwise, they would rush him while he was stuck in this room. The fact that they were waiting, either by habit or command, meant they weren't confident about defeating him, even with the number advantage.
They want to keep me here... that or they'll keep their distance and follow me so I can't escape.
Either way, he would be caught by the mage eventually. Whether they acted as beacons or guard dogs, his only chance at escaping was to kill them and try to get out of Oak Town. Once he was safe, he could try to find a way to help Vera, or if he was the one who was caught, Vera could do the same.
Alright then, let's-
'Rattle'
Number 8's heart stopped, and his breath shuttered as he heard the hatch behind him rattle. His head whipped around, and a hastily crafted dagger in his palms as he narrowed his eyes at the hatch that led downstairs.
I don't have to win...
The seconds dragged, and Number 8 never let his gaze drift, not for an instant. The hatch below him didn't move again, and the only thing that could be heard was the constant, muted cackles from outside. His mind went into a slight buzz, almost programmed in nature, as he waited like a spring ready to explode.
I just need to buy time.
Number 8 narrowed his eyes, a bead of sweat dripping down his neck as he gripped his dagger firmly. His breath was barely controlled as he stepped back, hoping to put a little more distance between himself and the hatch. A small part of him even whispered to jump towards the hatch that led to the roof and take his chances with the ghosts.
Wait...
The hatch to the roof...
I never checked that one... did I?
Number 8's eyes widened as he whipped his head towards the hatch to the roof. A pit of dread formed in his stomach when he first laid eyes on it, only to fall towards relief as he saw it was still closed. The small lock that closed it from the inside still latched, saving him from worrying about intruders from above, only from below.
Thank-
"How sad..."
Number 8 felt a shiver run down his spine as a booming, solemn voice echoed through the room he thought to be empty. Number 8 only had a moment to look behind him and see the mountain of a man standing without a hint of worry.
He's a giant...
The tan man's eyes were covered with a blindfold green fedora, and his outfit consisted of a green coat hanging off his broad shoulders with a yellow dress shirt underneath. A collection of red charms relative to voodoo adorned his necklace, soaked by the tears unabashedly falling down his face.
"You almost had the right answer."
Number 8 didn't know who the man was, not even why he was there, but as he watched the man move towards him in a hypnotically practiced way. Every motion fluid as air yet solid as a rock, it was clear...
"I'm sorry, young one..."
The man before him was dangerous.
"I'm the one person in the world you can't hide from."
Number 8 felt his world go in slow motion as the man held a palm out, almost fragile, and placed it in front of his chest. Number 8 barely had a chance to move his dagger between himself and the palm that looked like a rabbit yet howled like a wolf.
"Airspace Magic"
Number 8's only instincts told him to protect himself as the air, as if under gentle persuasion, compounded itself into a bubble underneath the man's palm and popped in a gentle breeze...
"Nikyu"
A breeze that blasted him through the wall and into the open air.
Vera felt the seconds pass once he closed the hatch to the cellar, his shallow breathing echoing through the distraught room. His steps splashed in every stray puddle of wine and alcohol, while every leap he took was over the fallen shelves or broken barrels that Number 8 had left behind in his rampage. Every thought raced to see how he, or Number 8, could escape.
It just had to be Phantom Lord...
Vera grit his teeth as he vaults over the stray shelf, his eye flicking towards the dead lantern snuffed out by Number 8's attack before being directed back at the hole in the ground. His feet carried him towards the exit Number 8 had made earlier, his only option if he wanted to escape the tower.
If I can sneak onto a train out of here, he probably won't inconvenience himself by chasing after me. Then I can get to Fairy Tail and ask Makarov to help me get Eight back...
It wasn't the perfect plan, but it was the only option he saw to win in the long run. He figured Number 8 was smart enough to think of something similar. They only lost if they both got captured, but they could eventually make it to Magnolia if one escaped. It was better than the both of them getting stuck in Oak Town jail for however many months because of 'accidental' thievery and property damage.
I have to get to the woods, then use Sho to split a trail. If I lose him, then I'll-
Vera's thoughts froze as he got to the foot of the hole, his eyes wide as he saw a shade pop out before him, eliciting a scathing screech from its mouthless figure and a startled yelp from Vera, who fell back in surprise before he saw the shade give an evil chuckle and fly away.
"HAHAHAHAHA!"
Vera's jaw clenched as he saw the sky littered with similar shades, at least twenty flying around joyously. Their ghostly visages littered the sky, and their eyes always faced the ground, scanning every inch of the tower and its surroundings like spotlights.
Shit, we're surrounded...
Vera's eyes fell in despair as he saw the practical net Jose had created around them. His thoughts tilted towards desperation as he glanced at Sho, now deathly quiet. It was understandable since Sho hadn't been dispatched so quickly before, even by Ultear, yet Jose had done it twice without a hint of struggle or fatigue.
Usually, Vera would've tried to talk Sho out of his slump...
"Sho! Snap out of it!"
Vera didn't have time for normalcy; he had to find a way to escape; nothing else mattered. If he wanted a chance, he had to leave before Jose chose who he was going after, even if that meant risking the horde of shades waiting outside.
The shades are weak, even if there are a lot of them. That means-
A soft tap on the hatch behind him shut his mind off. His eyes widened as he looked back at the hatch and saw it rattle slowly, tauntingly, as if Jose knew he was making Vera tremble as he stretched out the inevitable.
I'm out of time...
The realization sunk in further and further with each passing moment. His eyes were glued to the hatch as all his options were thrown out the window. All the plans he had made were crumbling: his plan to reach Fairy Tail, his plan to get to Magnolia, his plan to hover around Oak Town, his plan to escape and find a way to the guild he'd been trying to get to for so many months.
I'm trapped...
It was all crumbling at the last possible stop. He was a single town away, a single town, yet he was the one who got unlucky. He was the one Jose would inevitably catch as soon as the hatch opened and the Guild Master dropped down.
'Click'
It was only a matter of seconds, yet they felt like an eternity. Vera could only watch as the hatch clicked open, and the light from the tower slowly but surely fell into the darkness of the unlit portion of the cellar.
I need to run...
Vera's mind whirled as his body froze, the tangible evil of Jose's magic leaking into the room like a fog. Vera's every instinct conflicted with each other as he felt it, the feeling of helplessness that had been ingrained at the lab. Yet even then...
It was different.
I need to fight...
At the lab, he had the miracle of his magic to bail him out. Even during the long, grueling months, he could look towards that shooting star and see it light a way out. He could cling desperately to the sliver of chance that he would get a magic that he could use to escape, and fate had made it so that he accomplished just that.
I need to hide...
He had captured that sliver, that miracle, and escaped the lab.
I need to run.
This was different; there was no way out. He couldn't escape a wizard saint, maybe not now in a decade. The gap was too big, and he wasn't even at the starting line. The idea of him even being able to buy time for Number 8 to escape this surveillance net was a pipe dream.
I need to fight.
There was nothing he could do...
I need to hide.
There had to be something he could do...
I need to survive-
Vera's thoughts fell through the earth as he felt the wall he had unconsciously backed into fade away. The damp, smooth, hard stone vanished before being replaced with a wispy stream that he sunk into. Vera barely had time to breathe air before he was plunged into the ambiguity that rested behind him. Vera's eyes were wide as he looked through what felt like a lens as if Vera was floating under the surface of a murky pool and was looking up at the darkly tinted sky.
Huh?
Vera blinked in surprise, partially because even if he couldn't breathe the water, maybe it was water; it didn't hurt his eyes. It felt like a cold shower, cleansing his mind and body, a reset to everything. Vera felt soothed; the utter calmness of his murky surroundings was comfortable to him...
Oh...
Like this little shadow closet he was stuck in, inches from the surface of the outside world, was a part of himself. A little shadowed world where various objects floated around: a few knapsacks, water kegs, stray jewels, the stray matches he used for campfires when he was on watch, and now...
He was floating here.
He was floating in Sho's world.
Sho?
He was experiencing a new portion of his magic.
Is this you?
Vera watched with tension as the lens and his insight into what was happening outside Sho's shadow closet nodded slightly. Vera felt his shoulders sigh in relief as the camera moved across the walls, the two settling in the darkest corner of the cellar. Vera never once lost sight of what Sho could see as they became nestled in the darkness, indiscernible to the naked eye.
So this is what he sees...
Vera noted it as he did his best to hold his breath, his eyes pinned on the open hatch as Jose dropped through with a surprised murmur, "Huh..."
Vera watched as Jose's eyes scanned the room with a hint of surprise hidden inside them. A slight murmur left Jose's lips as he looked around the destroyed room, "Did he run?"
Jose tilted his head as he floated an inch or two off the ground, flying over the debris before stopping at the hole that led outside. Jose glanced up at his swarming shades before scratching his chin, "No... they would have caught him."
Or at least noticed him...
Jose narrowed his eyes at the shades, unaware that Vera was sitting in the opposite corner of him. He watched with wide eyes and fading breath; he waited desperately for Jose to get bored and leave. To take the hint and assume that Vera had escaped the notice of his shades and was now in the forest somewhere...
Come on...
As long as Jose left the room...
I can't hold my breath for much longer...
Vera just needed Jose to leave the room.
"Maybe my shades missed him... should I check the forest then?"
Jose's murmuring sounded like music to Vera's ears. Vera almost wanted to step outside and scream at Jose that, yes, he should leave and check the forest. He should check past the forest, walk to the ocean for all Vera cared, just leave the damn room!
"Oh well..." Jose murmured, hovering a few inches more off the ground, scanning the soil above the hole. Jose's self-spoken thoughts got a silent round of applause from Vera, who was a few seconds from passing out, "Better safe than sorry."
Vera watched with newfound joy as Jose flew out of the room, and Sho spit Vera out an instant later. Vera gasped for air as he fell to his knees, too relieved that Jose had left to worry about the wine and alcohol that was soaking into his palms.
Thank god he's-
"Found you."
Vera's heart stopped as he felt a tainted air breathe down his neck, his eyes flicking back in fear to see Jose standing tall. Vera stumbling away as he saw the simple, selfish, bastardized smirk on Jose's lips, every word etched with cruel delight, "Oh? What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?"
Jose chucked as he saw the boy scramble to his feet and instinctively jump backward to create distance between them. Jose, uncaring for the boy's futile attempts, flicked his fingers, watching with unmasked joy as a small explosion erupted in the center of the room.
"Shade Magic: Dead Pulse"
Broken shelves and shattered glass were thrown across the room, smacking into the walls and clipping Vera, who had to quickly dodge the onslaught before nothing was left in the center. Only the stains from the wine that had been spilled on the floor, and Jose, who floated over his self-made ring like a seasoned matador, "You know, I came all the way here because people were nagging about two kids trying to drown themselves in the river."
Jose scowled, ignoring the almost habitual flinch that crossed the boy's face as Jose shook his head with exaggerated sarcasm, "Do you understand how much of a waste that is, sending a wizard saint to babysit some brats? It's the most aggravating thing in the world, yet here I am, and so far, you've made this trip a little less boring than I had expected. Therefore, I think I'll reward you..."
Jose sneered at Vera, who flinched as Jose pointed a single finger to the cleared ground beneath his feet. Jose's voice and posture revealed nothing except unwavering confidence as he spoke, "If you manage to land a single hit on me, I might consider letting you off the hook..."
Jose's grin turned evil as he watched his offer process in the boy's head, Jose's confident voice echoing over the child's rampaging thoughts, "If you disappoint me, I might consider burying you underneath this dead relic of a tower."
Jose watched with delight as the boy entirely took in his words, Jose uncaring for whatever moral dilemmas the kid was going through as he descended ever so slowly onto the ground in the bullseye of the ring, "So try not to be a complete waste of my time."
Jose planned to squeeze out as much joy as possible from this dull trip.
It was a second before Number 8 realized he wasn't in the tower anymore...
When did I get here?
Number 8 could only blink as, in an instant, his view went from the damp, dusty office to the dusk-tinted sky, the shades looking down at him and laughing. Number 8 only blinked at them before a stinging erupted from his back, and his eyes lowered to the broken stone wall a few feet from him, the view of the office passing him by as gravity started to take its course.
Oh yeah...
Number 8 felt the air whip past his hair as he looked at the dagger in his palm, scowling as he saw it was dented before Number 8 ditched it and made a second one. Number 8 gritted his teeth as he threw the dagger into the tower walls, a dense string connecting the hilt to his hand as the dagger buried itself in the stone walls.
'Thwip'
Number 8 bit back a scream as the connecting thread strained, the force of the taught string yanking Number 8 into the tower and nearly pulling his shoulder out of its socket. Number 8 almost biting a hole through his tongue as his body smacked into the tower before he was able to extend the thread and lower himself shakily to the ground.
That hurt...
Number 8 struggled to catch his breath as he dispelled his creation, his mental checklist of his injuries coming back negative, with his arm holding the worst of it, having only been an inch from being dislocated. Number 8 ignored the pulsing pain in his shoulder as he felt the winds shift and turned toward the source and the deep voice that came with it.
"I'm surprised."
Number 8's eyes narrowed, and his breath harrowed as he let his complete attention rest on the man who appeared out of thin air. His green coat flowed with a single hand on his green fedora, the blindfolded eyes hiding behind the tip of his hat, "You're a quick thinker. How sad..."
Number 8 tensed as the man lifted his head, revealing streams of tears from his blindfold that shocked Number 8 into silence, especially once the man started sobbing into the open air, "HOW SAD! I HAVE TO ARREST SUCH A SMART CHILD! HOW TERRIBLE!"
Number 8 blinked in confusion as he saw the man, powerful as all hell, openly sobbing. The unnatural stream of tears flowed from his covered eyes, making it look like there was a river flowing from underneath his blindfold.
Is he... okay?
Number 8 tilted his head, momentarily forgetting the danger he was in as he saw the giant... well, the giant crybaby sniffle and use his sleeve to wipe away the stray tears. Number 8 watched with confusion and caution as the man cleared his tears and shook his head with a downtrodden expression, "How sad... I'm sorry..."
Number 8 watched, his neck prickling as the man held a flat palm in front of him, the air converging on it like a vortex before it rushed towards him in a stream of bubbles that stung and bruised with every hit. The air popped as Number 8 tried to dodge the onslaught of compressed air that maimed his skin with every bite.
"Airspace Magic: Zetsu"
Number 8 hissed as he felt the welts form on his exposed skin, his eyes flicking towards the air mage as he threw his dagger. Number 8 watched as the man floated out of the way, safely positioning himself a few steps to the right of the dagger's trajectory.
Gotcha.
Number 8 yanked the thin, nearly invisible thread connected to the dagger's hilt. His eyes narrowed in concentration as he watched it curve in its flight path, making a beeline midair toward the man's exposed face.
"Huh..."
The mage spoke unsurprised as he tilted his head away from the dagger and grabbed the thin thread at the end of it. The man holding the loose thread in his palm like a fishing line, "So that's what the thread was for. That's very-"
"Thread Magic: Binds"
The man's words were cut off as the dagger exploded into a web of threads. Not enough to contain a massive figure like the giant, but enough to coil around an appendage. The webs were latching onto the giant's forearm and attempting to bind it to his side...
Emphasis on attempt.
"Wow... you're full of surprises."
Number 8 watched with wide eyes as the man held his arm out, the force of his threads unable to bind the arm to the man's side. Number 8 was only able to watch as the man looked over the new cast he'd gotten, a minor detriment but not debilitating like Number 8 had hoped it to be. The man turned his blindfolded gaze to Number 8 and did something Number 8 hadn't expected...
"I'M SO SADDENED!"
The giant cried, sobbed, blubbered even, and in Number 8's confusion, he didn't realize his crucial mistake. He had yet to disconnect the thread connecting the dagger to his fingertips. His hand was now connected to the cast around the man's muscular arm, hidden underneath the flowing coat that blanketed his colossal physique.
"I'M SORRY, YOUNG ONE..."
How did Number 8 know the man was muscular?
"I'M GOING TO HAVE TO HURT YOU!"
Because the man pulled his casted arm backward, and Number 8 was yanked off the ground like a rocket. Number 8 was barely able to disconnect the thread as the man slammed his covered fist into Number 8's gut, and his consciousness flickered to nothingness.
Aria needs to learn the definition of subtlety...
Jose shook his head as he heard faint whispers of the tower shaking above him, his focus turning back to the boy who hadn't seemed to clock the fight above them. The boy's eyes were locked on his figure, analyzing everything from how Jose was dressed to how he held himself, confident and leisurely...
"One hit..."
As if Jose was about to take a stroll.
"All I need is one hit?"
Jose nodded, his eyes lazily gliding over the boy's shadow as the boy took a shaky breath and shook, "Alright," before his shadow exploded in a blind rush towards Jose. Jose only gave it a sly glance as he watched the boy hide from Jose's sight using the few seconds his suicidal magic had offered him as cover.
"I can't help but think you've done this before."
Jose spoke mockingly as he let dead magic flood his palm, not bothering to stick to range like he specialized in. He was dealing with a complete amateur; if he used more than his left hand, he would consider it a smirk on his entitled as a Wizard Saint.
"Shade Magic: Dead Hand"
Jose's eyes lit up with glee as he saw the shadow rush towards him, the razor-sharp claws rocketing toward his face. Jose merely tilted his head past it and shoved his hand into the shadow's chest, the purple glow and red static flashing inside the shadow's murky insides as Jose chanted, "Tick, tick, tick," Jose smirked as the shadow tried to elbow him, before a wave of red static paralyzed it.
"Boom."
The shadowed figure, helpless as a balloon in Jose's palm, exploded in a flash of purple, red, and black. Jose stood unfazed in the aftermath as he watched the shadow disintegrate and return to its owner, whom Jose had kept in the corner of his mind during the entire ordeal.
"Well, what's next-"
Jose paused as he let the magic fade from his hand and swatted a stray plank chucked at his head. Jose tilted his head curiously as he danced past another before turning his eyes to meet the boy who had charged, a stray rusty dagger in his hand and a cold, motivated sharpness on the boy's face. Jose couldn't stop himself from noticing where the boy's eyes were aiming as Jose used his hand to parry away the boy's hand, and the dagger aimed at his stomach, "Well, aren't you ruthless..."
Jose's taunts went unanswered as he let the boy continue the exchange; Jose only used his left hand to parry any attacks the boy threw at him. The boy kicked at his shins only for Jose to check them, punching at his ever so precious vitals only for Jose to slip them; and all the while, Jose parried the dagger that was reserved for whenever the boy thought he saw a chance to end the fight permanently.
He's more feral than I thought he'd be...
Jose idly wondered if the blue-haired boy was the same before he tilted his head as the boy's dagger flew past his cheek. Jose's eyes widened a fraction of an inch as a smirk planted itself on his face, "Decent," Jose then slid to the left as the dagger, clenched in a shadowed hand, came down where his head had once been.
"But not good enough."
Jose quickly and elegantly spun, his foot implanting itself in the shadow's side with a resounding bang. The shadow flew in a straight pather before it become implanted in the cellar wall with a crash. Dust and debris were kicked up as a new crater emerged from the aftermath, the shadow struggling to escape the new imprint that had occurred in its image.
"You're getting distracted..."
Jose's thin whisper sent a shiver down the boy's spine, Vera's breath stalling as he ripped his worried gaze from Sho and immediately threw an instinctual punch at Jose's groin. Jose only scoffed as he effortlessly swatted the attack away with a lazy hand and muttered under his breath, "How barbaric," before immediately planting his foot in the boy's stomach. Jose watched with unbothered eyes as the boy gasped, stray spit flying from his mouth as he was sent tumbling into the trash heap that lined the ring, saving the wall from having another crater similar to the one with the boy's shadow in it.
"NGHH!"
Instead, what came was the muffled screams of the boy and the sound of shattering wood and breaking glass. A few of the unbroken alcohol bottles rolled around as Jose ignored the boy's muffled screams and looked up above him lazily. Jose was almost melancholy at the fact that his new source of entertainment was ending so soon...
"What a shame..."
Jose wanted to play with his food a bit longer...
"Oh well..."
Unfortunately, Jose wasn't the best when pulling his punches.
"At least this eyesore of a tower was useful for something."
Although not nearly as bad as Aria.
A gunshot...
Huh...
Number 8 could compare the sound of Aria's punch to a gunshot.
Did I...
He could compare the pain to a cannonball.
Pass out?
Number 8 was sure he heard his guts shift as he was launched straight back into the tower, this time on the first floor. He was crashing through the stone exterior and tumbling into a once broken, now shattered, dining table. Number 8, not even getting a chance to figure out what had happened before, he had crumbled to his knees and vomited the food from earlier, his vision spotty as he felt his stomach explode in agony.
I can't breathe...
There were waves of his muscles clenching and releasing, spasming as if trying to tell him to fix what the giant had done to his internal organs. Number 8 was struggling to breathe, struggling to think as he clutched his stomach and retched, tears streaming down his face as he tried and failed to stand up correctly.
He's stronger...
A few seconds later, Number 8 was able to get his breathing down. Number 8 forced his shaky bones to a stand as he glanced at the new opening in the tower, a hole with shaky stonework right between the jagged scar left behind by the scary mage and the broken doorway.
He's stronger than me.
The proof was still biting at his stomach, trying to make him fall down and not get up. The only reason he hadn't was because pain wasn't that much of a problem for him; his mind could handle it. His muscles would learn to adjust...
The problem was it would only delay the inevitable.
He's stronger than Ultear.
The air mage and the dark mage were unbelievable. In a single day, Number 8 met two stronger people than Ultear, the strongest person he had ever fought. The one who beat him in every spar, in every way possible, was outclassed by the two mages that stumbled upon them chasing ghost stories.
Seven was right...
Number 8 was conflicted...
Vera was right...
He knew his situation was terrible, and considering he felt the man with sickening magic underneath him, he figured Vera's was worse. Neither of them could escape at this rate, yet even then...
The world is so much bigger than I imagined.
Number 8 couldn't help but feel glad that his little world, where Ultear was the strongest, was just a well. That is one town, not even the capital or the giant city Vera was planning to take them to; already, two people outclassed the strongest in the lab.
It made Number 8 feel strangely giddy, even as his muscles screamed in protest. Number 8 easily ignored them as he finally got his bearings and surveyed the trashed room. His attention was taken as an almost surprised voice cut through the air.
"You seem happier..."
The man's words cut Number 8 out of his head, Number 8 flicking his gaze towards the new hole in the wall. A few crumbles of the old tower bounced off the man's hat as the man walked in, the cast gone, as if it was never there, "I'm surprised... I thought you would be sad..."
Number 8 blinked, a little lucidly, as the man sniffled and wiped his tears on his sleeve. Number 8, feeling slightly confused by everything, gave a breathless whisper, "The pain never lasts long..."
This is mild compared to the tests.
Number 8 sighed tiredly as he saw the man tense, his covered eyes seemingly scanning Number 8's figure, with the blindfold hidden behind the tip of the man's hat. Number 8 quietly built up the rest of his magic and prepared to counterattack before the man lifted his head.
Huh...how bright.
Number 8 got to see a good look at the blindfold, the edges of it glowing with light reminiscent of a shining star leaking under the horizon.
"Young one..."
It was like the man could see through him...
"What's your name?"
Number 8 might have hated him if his words were any less sincere.
"My name?"
Number 8 asked, a stab of dread and confusion steeped in his voice. Number 8 felt his lips dry as he opened his mouth and tried to make a sound, the habitual whisper coming out of him with the now familiar feeling of worms crawling around in his gut, "Number 8."
It was the same line he always used...
"It's always been Number 8."
It was the same lie he got used to telling.
Unfortunately, going off the way, the man frowned, the lights dying out behind his blindfold; Number 8 figured he'd been caught this time.
"You're lying." The man said, his voice stern yet gentle, as gentle as the menacing man could be. Number 8 instinctively got defensive as he gnashed his teeth, and he glared heatedly at the man, the words spewing out of his mouth in a desperate rush that sounded odd even to his ears.
"I'm not lying!"
It was weird...
"My name's Number 8!"
Had they always felt this hollow?
"It's always been-"
"My name is Aria." The man, Aria of Phantom Lord, said with a silent expression. Number 8 blinked in surprise as the man looked around before flicking his fingers and moving a few items around with the wind, a stray bowl, one of the few still intact, floating on the breeze as it hovered above Aria. Number 8 quirked his eyes as he watched Aria look up at the bowl with a sort of sad air around him, the silence stretching as Number 8 fell further into confusion.
What is he doing? Why-
"I used to live in a country that I ended up leaving behind me." Aria's voice could have been higher, not breaking yet holding a tone that would make Number 8 check twice. Number 8, watching as the man brought a few more things, stray utensils rusted from time or napkins that teetered on rags, and put them in the bowl, "When I left, I abandoned everything that country had given me."
A fork flew out.
"My friend."
A spoon.
"My responsibility."
A knife.
"My faith."
The winds stopped as only a napkin remained, Aria letting the bowl fall into his open palm as the napkin hovered an inch above the empty bowl. The air wavering as Aria crushed the bowl in his palm and caught the napkin, the stained white cloth darkening with blood that had been made from cuts into Aria's palm.
"The only thing I kept was my name."
Aria slowly let the cloth fall to the ground, as gentle as the breeze that carried it, and showed his open palm. The cuts were still bloody but less, the worst of it soaked up into the dirty napkin on the ground, "My name is important to me; it is my only remaining connection to my homeland."
Aria watched as the boy stiffened, the air silent as Aria spoke with words he knew would reach the boy in front of him, "I believe you understand the importance of a name."
The boy could hide it from anyone else in the world.
"So I'll ask again."
Everyone except him.
"What is your name?"
The seconds dragged on, the muted sounds of conflict in the cellar below fading to nothingness as the words rang in Number 8's ears. Their symphony pierced his ears and memory as he looked at his palms, his voice shaky as he tried...
"My name..."
As he tried...
"My name is..."
As he tried to let the words leave his lips.
'I won't let you drown.'
Number 8 felt his breath stall, his eyes settling as he released a shaky breath. Number 8's heartbeat slowed until his fading adrenaline cleared his head, and he suddenly realized why he'd been hating his voice lately. Why he got that weird feeling whenever someone called him by his name...
"My name isn't Number 8..."
It wasn't his name...
"I have a real name..."
It had never been his name.
"I love my name."
He loved his name, the one Seven gave him. He loved it more than anything and wanted to hear it with his ears. He wanted to hear someone else say it, his name and not his number; he wanted it more than anything...
"I have a name..."
Yet he held his tongue.
"But I can't tell you it."
He wanted to tell Vera his name; he owed it to him and couldn't live with himself if he didn't. Seven was gone, and Number 8 wasn't sure how long it would be before he found someone he trusted enough to use the name she gave him...
"My name is important to me..."
He couldn't let that go...
"I refuse to let you be the first person to hear it..."
He wouldn't let that go...
"He has to be the first person to hear it."
He refused to let that go!
"SO GET OUT OF THE WAY ARIA!" Number 8 roared, his magic power exploding as he wrung out his magic container, his eyes glaring at Aria with a determined fury. One that didn't fail to get a small, powerful chuckle out of Aria, who let his hands clap slowly in a show of honest support and respect, "Good. That's a much better answer..."
Aria flew above Number 8, watching the boy let magic-laced strings trail his fingertips, molding them with expert precision and practice. A spear of tightly packed threads fell into the boy's hand as Aria gazed at him, watching his eyes, brown and bright, unbending even when he faced a wall that would inevitably crush him.
"Fight to your heart's content..."
Aria let the winds roar around him; his hand outheld as he manipulated the airspaces around him like a gentle breeze guiding a raging hurricane. All the while, Aria gazed at the boy, who stood firmly, never for a moment backing down. The boy's will etched into every breath, every muscle, every atom of his being...
"I will witness all of it."
It was enough to bring Aria to tears.
The trembling of the ceiling and muted sounds of the tower being torn apart echoed nearly silently through the enclosed cellar. Jose listened to the action with a vague disinterest as he waited and eventually saw the kid pull himself out of the wreckage, littered with new cuts and splinters. The worst of it was a few stray shards of glass from the rubble that were stuck on his arm, a gruesome one piercing through the boy's bicep. Jose noted that the boy's jaw was locked shut to stop himself from screaming, either to save face or not tick off Jose with mindless noises.
Well, at least he isn't stupid... or loud.
Jose would give it to the kid, even if the fight, no, this would never be a fight. Even if the little game he decided to indulge in was pointless, he could give the kid points for not making it more annoying than it already was.
"Anything else?" Jose said uncaringly as he walked towards the boy who was keeping his head down, defeat etched in the boy's bones, and promptly lead to disappointment being laced in Jose's words, "Guess not, then that means we're done-"
Jose froze as he felt the ground above him tremble; his gaze flicked up at the ceiling for half a second as he realized that the boy Aria had been fighting, the strong one, had done something. A final breath that had come with a cascade of magic power was snuffed out equally as quickly, although not without doing any lasting damage to the surroundings. Whatever the boy had done was something big enough that the cellar, keeping an old tower off his head, was starting to collapse.
What the hell? Aria's never this sloppy... unless he got sad during the fight.
Jose internally cursed his decision to bring Aria along; there was no way that giant with a tear duct of glass wouldn't get sad fighting a kid. Jose clicked his tongue before he tensed, his senses tingling with warning as he felt the magic at the boy's feet move.
Oh?
Jose glanced down and automatically used his forearm to stop the boy's knee from kissing his nose.
He got faster...
Jose turned his gaze back to the boy, analytical as he took in his locked jaw and furious eyes. Jose moved his hand to smack the boy away before the snot-nosed runt did something that surprised him.
"SPFFFTTT!"
He blew a cloud of alcohol right into Jose's face, the momentary disgust and anger at being spit on by the boy making Jose forget himself and clamp his hand around the boy's neck. Jose glared through soaked bangs and falling dirt as he choked the boy with one arm, "You little rodent!"
Jose didn't even look at the boy's shadow that tried to crawl up his leg; a simple, controlled burst of his magic on his feet cut the connection and sent the shadow sniveling back to the boy.
"You want to test every nerve I have, don't you!?"
Jose was barely able to stop himself from snapping the boy's neck as he saw the boy gasp for air and open his mouth to beg for his life...
Well, Jose had thought the boy would beg for his life.
"Stop talking already, would you..."
Instead, Jose watched with intrigue as he heard the boy's voice dip into something sinister, far crueler than Jose had expected from someone so young. The sudden shift made Jose pause as he looked at the boy, who was grinning underneath his iron grip with a smile that screamed vengeance and a tone that called worse, "If I have to hear you whine any more, I might bury myself."
Jose took a second to process the message, a vein bulging in his head as he glared at the boy, the rumbling of the tower now echoing through the cellar. Yet in all of it, Jose heard a single, minuscule sound, so silent that it could have been a pin drop...
Is that... fire?
Jose heard it, though it was impossible not to; his senses that had been honed and trained could pick up the small flame. With the quick flicker of light and sharp note that rang near his feet, Jose could only glance down at the single, lit match dropping on the wine-soaked ground. The match fell from a seemingly deep shadow underneath the soles of the boy's feet, where the boy's magic had gone to rest.
Oh...
The flame immediately engulfed the ground around Jose and the boy, eating at all the spilled wine and bourbon at its disposal.
It was a trap.
Jose blinked in surprise as he saw the flames try to eat him before he dropped the boy and floated off the ground. Jose kept his face far from the flickering flames as he aimed toward the hole in the ceiling and flew through the collapsing cellar, which was quickly turning into a crumbling oven.
"HEY COWARD!"
Jose blinked as he heard the boy screaming through the newly smoke-infested room. The temperature boiled to a roast while Jose peered through the smoke, his eyes wide as he looked around the cellar. His eyes flickered back as he saw the boy soar towards him; his winter coat caught fire as his hand latched onto Jose's leg like a vice grip.
"YOU FORGOT SOMETHING!"
Jose scowled as the boy yanked himself up, throwing himself past Jose and through the hole to safety. In an impressive act of coordination, the boy could throw his burning jacket at Jose mid-flight and force Jose to pull back from the exit to dodge it.
"SHO!"
Jose took a second, a mistaken second, to process the boy's commands before he instinctively flew downward and dodged the burning claw that cut through the cover of smoke. Jose's eyes were wide as he saw the shadow, now bathed in fire like a human torch, jumping around the crumbling cellar without a care in the world and trying to catch him.
This little bastard...
Jose clicked his tongue as he was forced deeper into the cellar, and another flaming claw swiped inches from his nose. His eyes glanced past the shadow doused in alcohol and fire before resting on the hole and the boy who had escaped past it.
He isn't half bad.
Jose was pretty sure there was a smirk on his lips as the cellar crumbled, and he was buried under the weight of earth and stone.
Vera heard the tower fall behind him as he ran to the trees, his exhaustion leaking as he felt his shadow crawl back to him. The magic container that had been strengthened for years was now nearly empty.
'RUMBLE'
Vera stumbled as a wave of dust swept him off his feet, squinting as he was cloaked in a dust cloud that had blanketed the entire area. The blood on his skin was stinging as he grit his teeth and forced himself to stand, ready to run and hobble his injured body away from Jose now that the tower was providing the perfect cover.
I need to get to the station and meet up with...
Vera froze, his eyes wide as his mind caught up with him. The adrenaline from the cellar fell away as he glanced back with dreadful eyes, "Wait... how did it... collapse."
Jose didn't do it... and I didn't... so that means-
"HOW SAD!" Came a booming cry from the cloud of dirt and dust, Vera's eyes widening as he saw the smokescreen get blown apart with a bowl of wind, unveiling a large man hovering in the sky without an injury in sight. The worst being a nick to the fedora he wore, one that must have come from the unconscious boy over his shoulder, "HE FOUGHT SO HARD! I'M SO SAD!"
Vera gulped as he saw Aria, the Phantom Lord giant, who handled Natsu like he was a child, floating in the air. The various dust and debris scattered across the field as the air mage turned his blindfolded eyes to Vera, who had been frozen like a deer in the headlights. Vera felt his eyes linger on the welts on Eight's skin, his ghostly pale skin, his chest that couldn't even rise without labor.
He looks dead...
Vera felt his blood rush to his head, unable to stop himself as he saw Eight defeated for the first time since he met the kid. Not even Ultear had hurt him that bad; it was enough to cloud Vera's judgment as his teeth gnashed before he growled, "WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM!"
"He's alive."
Aria's loud yet humble reply calmed Vera's momentary panic, his eyes shaking as he spotted Number 8's limp body across Aria's shoulder. Aria only gave Vera a long, almost analytical look before shaking his head, an uncanny remorse reflected in his booming voice, "How sad..."
Vera stiffened as he felt the ground shift underneath him, a single turn showing a bright, neon purple serpentine creature erupting from the ground, its body highlighted with bones of dark blue and a single giant skull. Vera could not even let out a gasp of surprise before he was coiled in its grasp and felt the stabbing of red static, with Aria's solemn whisper echoing in his fading consciousness.
"You both are such wonderful friends."
Then Vera's magic plummeted to zero, and his vision went black.
Aria let out a sad sigh as he watched the boy let out a pained scream and crumble under the force of Jose's magic. Aria turned his covered gaze from the unconscious captive as he looked towards the rubble. His eyes lingered in the ground as it shook, and a bubble of dark blue, compressed shades rose out of the debris, a pair of red eyes glaring back at Aria.
"Honestly, Aria, you couldn't have kept the damage to a minimum?"
Jose's voice rang out as the bubble faded; the shades disappeared with a wave of Jose's hand to reveal the image underneath. Jose's unharmed figure floated up next to Aria, who took in his soaked hair and smokey scent with a slight hum, "I feel like you were just as bad as me, Guild Master."
Jose scoffed, doing a once over of Aria and unsurprisingly finding him uninjured. However, a cut in his ace's favorite hat caught his attention, and the cuts on his massive palm.
That's surprising...
It was unusual for Aria to have a speck of dust on him, so the blue-haired boy hanging over his shoulder as a sack of rice had accomplished it was impressive, "I suppose that one gave you a little trouble?" Jose flicked his head at the boy, his tone taking a retrospective approach, "He was the stronger one from what I could tell..."
Although in terms of danger, they could be comparable...
Jose clicked his tongue as he glanced back at the boy with black hair that tried to set him on fire, silently directing his Phantom to put the boy down before turning his attention back to Aria, who had tilted his head in a soft recollection.
"He was strong..." Aria's lips then tilted downwards as he spoke with a slight frown and a slightly held-back anger, "Too strong for his age."
Aria peered at Jose, who gave a calculated glance at the blue-haired boy before quickly looking at the black-haired boy on the ground. Jose hummed and gave a silent nod in agreement, his eyes freezing as he took in the arms of the boy who had been exposed without the heavy-duty jacket to cover it...
"Yeah..."
Jose turned away, his thoughts running as he spared a look towards Oak Town, his eyes able to catch frantic mobs that had probably been scared by the destruction of the tower.
"Far more resourceful than I thought they'd be."
The silence stretched as Jose contemplated everything, an annoyed sigh leaving his lips as he glanced at the pair once more before floating upwards, his tone cold but noticeably not as distant as it could have been, "Take them to a local doctor, I'll make sure those nagging idiots don't start a riot by accident."
Aria nodded, landing beside the black-haired boy and quickly lifting him on his other shoulder. Aria turned back to Jose and asked with a hint of curiosity, "Should I take them to the rune knights after they've been checked over?"
Aria watched as Jose seemed to stall in his ascent, his eyes turning to the town before he snorted and rolled his eyes, "As if they could handle those two..."
If they could keep them locked up for a day, I'd be impressed...
Jose scratched his chin as he let his gaze wander to the town, his eyes resting on the castle overlooking it before he gave a dismissive wave of his hand, "Leave them in my office. I'll deal with them out later."
Jose spared a glance at Aria before he started flying towards the commotion in town, Jose clicking his tongue as he thought of the paperwork he would have to fill out because his Ace wasn't good at controlling his emotions...
What a busy day.
It didn't help that he had spotted the hopeful smile on Aria's face before he left.