WARNING: Violence, blood, implied death.
Deadly Consonance
After the onset of the Antarctic's fall, and with the reawakening of Cosmoi beyond Atlantean barriers, the South Atlantic Temple had its courtyard covered in the dust of many demolitions. Even still, its obelisk continued proud and active, the vile energy it produced swept towards the Mainstay, where Athena was to suffer it.
Otherwise, only the pillar's guardian serenely traversed those grounds, watching in silent frustration the scarred view of Atlantis' heights. This man carried a single weapon — if one could even call it such — in a hand, that being a tinged metal flute, the same one used back in Athens against Shun's chain. Obviously, this was its owner, Sorrento, whom Poseidon once appointed as his personal guard.
The fair Scale he wore was of the most orange hue, its flowing, curvaceous trims in yellowish gold. The form was among the most modest, tight and turned inwards, barely anything sticking out; the skirt was long and even more feminine than its wearer, built of several layers of plates that came to a stop above the knees. The shoulder pads swerved in to shield all flesh, and went as far as covering part of the cuirass and bevor. The barbute-like helmet protected the sides of the face and hid his luscious hair, trimmed with swirling shapes, and deformed with winged formations towards the back. The chest was ingrained with a similarly winged maiden, in her hands a double flute. She was in the nude and surrounded by what appeared to be dozens of sparrows, who flew and danced to the sound of her alluring tune.
Sorrento had his instrument boun as soon as he felt the approach of a Cosmos from the temple's halls. He saw that the one to come out was Andromeda, and so he knew not how alert he had ought to be. That boy had once hid his chains under the clothes to what was fashioned as a peace meeting, though he had also been caring and understanding where amazons had not.
Just as well, Shun walked with caution, walking in an arc about the Mariner. "We meet again," he told the man. "I hope this will not be the last time."
Sorrento had no qualms in saying: "You are close to having your victory."
"There is no victory until Lady Athena is safe, and humanity is no longer under threat of your deluge."
"Again, it was not I who devised the storms," the Mariner spoke in his defense, "but it was our Lord."
"You say that, but I have not yet seen you defy his plans," Shun countered.
"Would the servant of a god ever refuse his orders? It is not righteous, let alone wise."
"But I would at least expect some uncertainty, as with Krishna. You wish to do away with humanity as well, Sorrento. Anyone with senses should notice."
The General appeared affected, though he elected not to respond. Instead, he rotated the flute betwixt the fingers and prepared it sideways, embouchure hole near the lips. His next warning was a way of cutting the conversation altogether: "The South Atlantic Pillar shall stand while I stand. Leave or face the perils of the Siren's song, Andromeda."
Shun was quick to observe there was no way out of battling, and so he burned his Cosmos and allowed the chain to levitate, its target the pillar which Sorrento blocked. The enemy, however, did not raise a hint of energy yet, awaiting his action.
Atypically, Andromeda was rather aggressive. While the circle end dangled tightly in his left hand, the square end raced forth in many sharp angles, leaving sparks wherever it passed. The speed with which the weapon traversed the air was nigh absurd, but somehow this was not enough.
The Mariner first exploded with power and flung himself spinning towards the metal, sending it off course with a simple kick. Once the chain took the impact, the stark drawings it made in the air wobbled, and so Shun instinctively reeled it back before sending it once more. This became difficult, for Sorrento landed with the flute already against the mouth, and he had begun blowing what appeared to be an intricate scale practice.
Now there was no manner to penetrate the General's defense so simply. Each time the square end encroached, the song deftly parried it off, as if the flutist could predict its destination. No advance pushed through, and the obelisk remained intact, no different from prior. Over and over again Shun failed, albeit there was no intent of an attack in Sorrento's part.
Seeing that this was futile, Andromeda pulled the weapon fully, letting it pool around the boots. "Nebula Chain," he spoke. Veins of chained metal started to form along the marble, spreading with them the Saint's magenta aura. A faint plasma followed along their surface, a hint at his thunderous abilities.
The Nebula Chain came from many a side and flipped at a speed which sound could not counter; not only that, with the many facets of such a technique, Sorrento would be unable to predict whence a next advance would be performed. Graciously he slid back hither to the pillar and restarted his scales, now much more esoteric than before.
The man started — yet soon abandoned — the usual major scale and its many modes, to follow with the less common minor scales, each time blowing a triad to carry the listener's ear along a journey of musical transitions. With the fastest staccato and total mastery of circular breathing, he sped through these down to forbidden groupings of notes, beyond the seven tones, up to eight, ten, or further. It came to be that his exercise both made and did not make musical sense to a layman.
But this mental confusion which assaulted Shun was only a secondary effect of the song. Indeed, the sound seemed to affect that which lacked consciousness and life; it could alter that which had no understanding of song whatsoever. When the Andromeda Chain was close enough to rain a barrage of enchanted metal and sparks at the South Atlantic, it met a reddish barrier of Cosmos.
The thing spun along the air which carried it, changing its pressure with each difference in pitch; as such it inflated and deflated towards the chains that dared invade its perimeter. While Sorrento's exercise pressed on, this obstacle was impenetrable. Lest someone changed their strategy, they were at a stalemate.
Once more realizing the futility of his efforts in face of one so apt, Shun allowed his Cosmos and weapon to rest, and stared on in awe. Sorrento's work lasted only a handful more seconds before he gave his lungs the same comfort.
"Your Cosmos is among the greatest I have ever sensed," Siren told the Bronze Saint. "Those chains do you a disservice."
"A disservice they do not," Shun said. "With them, I am able to better hone and limit my power."
"Why would one ever limit such power?"
"Do you not avoid killing your opponent as well? Thus far you have used your power to defend, not attack. You seem similar to me in that respect," the boy answered.
Sorrento spun his flute near the lips once more, making Shun apprehensive. His light hazel eyes were aimed straight at him, haunting in a way he could not make out. The next words came as a cryptic threat: "I have only not attacked for lack of reason. Allow me to demonstrate..."
This was not the only battle taking place. Not only did two sources of energy light up the North Atlantic, as June approached the Temple of Poseidon, it was clear the clash between Hyoga and the god went on — if it could be called such a thing. Careless of his own home's structure, Poseidon did not censor any advances, crashing through walls and columns while the Saint had no option if not escape.
The deity was watchful of his own Cosmos, and this assured that Cygnus could survive longer on his own. However, with each instance of him being hunted down past rooms, he was harmed further, and came closer to a fatal wound. The Cygnus Cloth had lost more parts to reveal some of his bare chest beneath, and the pants below; part of the skin had ripped, oft deep enough to split blood that oozed down the muscles.
Fallen once again, Hyoga saw himself in a corridor similar to the one where he separated from Kiki. His first instinct was to scan it for signs of the boy, so that the chase wouldn't catch him by surprise. Without finding anything, he got up and looked back at the sight of Poseidon's demented energy, that aura which distorted light from behind.
A new injury stung one of his exposed arms, this being a cut from being launched into broken, hard marble. The less Cloth he had on, the more his body took the bare violence of combat, something sure to kill him if this continued. "I can't go on like this for long," he murmured while stepping backwards.
There was no manner of escaping a god's intent, not even with the power he awakened through the Seventh Sense. Clearly he witnessed the gap between warriors of his kind and the sacred men and women who ruled over the universe; this required a leap much greater than the Seventh Sense provided. Worse, with his eyesight impaired, even what he learned while facing Shaka seemed useless.
He had no hopes of encountering the secret to godhood, what one required to confront the height of that greatness. All he could do was stall, out of expectation for Athena's much required aid.
In his exasperation, as Poseidon was about to race once more against him, he did not realize someone's arrival. A feminine shout preceded a flashing line ahead; for a moment he observed Poseidon's attention be diverted, and with honed vision and mind, he watched June both block the god's path and be struck in the shoulder by the trident.
With quick wits, he knew this was both a matter of saving an ally, and an opportunity to harm a previously impenetrable foe. Cygnus never minded the pains and sped betwixt the two, arm forth to shout: "DIAMOND DUST!"
Ice exploded towards the god, who so casually levitated and generated cold winds, sending the crystals off ere they congealed him. Chameleon's blood sprayed and froze in that same direction, darkening their view, so only other means were available to tell position for a split second.
Blinded and confused, Hyoga rather decided to step off the floor and send himself off a different direction, towards where he expected his friend to be. They were both harmed in the process, going through a demolished divider and back into the main hall. Ice, snow, and blood splattered against the ceiling and the floor far back.
Poseidon had to pause another moment; once more he was distracted in his need to rise victorious over Saints. Reminded of his duty, he refocused Cosmos towards the curse and whipped the weapon downwards, ridding it of the amazon's essence. "Two now," he complained. "No different from struggling with pesky vermin. What a waste of time…"
"June!" Hyoga called and pulled her by the other arm as he crouched. Lying down, the girl gritted the teeth at the piercing sensation of her perforated shoulder. Though she hurried, she struggled to get up and required aid.
Feeling cold strike her face, her fingers instinctively reached for her lips, feeling them bare. The Saints looked around and saw that her mask had been separated and split to three pieces. "Damn it, my mask!" she said.
"We've got worse things to deal with now," Hyoga reminded her, and so they both aimed their fearful eyes at the god they faced. "How's your arm?"
"I can barely move it," she told, groaning as she failed to raise the other hand. Because she understood that her state and Hyoga's were already critical, her only comfort was Seiya's imminent arrival. "I didn't expect him to be that fast."
"Speed, strength, smarts... I don't think we can beat him at anything. We can only give him trouble until Lady Athena comes to help us."
"Then what the hell is the hold-up?"
"Watch it!" Unable to give her a rundown, Hyoga braced for Poseidon's upcoming attack. A barrage of icy spikes and humid mist defaced the courtroom's surface to an extreme degree, so the Bronze Saints scattered, with no intent of fighting back initially.
Even with curtailed power, the head of Atlantis could bounce back and forth between opposite ends of the temple, his wrath bringing total ruin to its construction. He swerved while emitting a hum, plates of the Scale ringing as air turbulently flowed in between. Wherever he passed, obstacles were reduced, and some parts of the place began to crumble.
Hyoga and June were hit many a time; they could predict the incoming strides, yet never reliably dodge them. The injuries this caused were minute in comparison, but amounted to worsening conditions in the long term. No different, the Chameleon Cloth began to suffer Poseidon's fury, and so several parts cracked, whereas a handful were brought to pieces.
It came to be that the warriors traveled through many points, even going through sections that exposed the interior to the outside, but that god was relentless. Evading a blast of frost, June flew so high above the temple that she could see the yet intact courtyard from above. No more cultists could be seen, as they presumably hid from the chaos.
As expected, Poseidon followed her that far up. The girl cut a hard angle in the heights and broke past the ceiling, chased down the same. Once the god had mimicked her path, rather than the neat hole her form broke, he condemned the entire thing, chunks of rock raining onto crooked tiling.
Debris covered the site of impact. Poseidon paused and made sure his Cosmos did not escape the pillar's curse, though from the rocky clouds he noticed three points of energy encircle him rather than two. "Another?" he questioned with a raised eyebrow.
One almost faster than June thus attempted to catch him by surprise, therefore the god somersaulted into an intricate spin, trident swung at the threat. It was Seiya who attacked now, though, knowing of the foe's abilities, he dodged by forcing his own head back. Flying sweat and flowing strands of dark hair were sliced by the weapon's sharp teeth, while the momentum allowed Pegasus to dodge unaffected into the distance.
Even in their injured states, June and Hyoga capitalized on their higher numbers. It had gotten to the point that Poseidon felt swarmed by their attacks, at least in the manner which he allowed himself to fight. He could dodge them with little effort, or premeditate their approaches early enough that they were sure to miss, though there was no space to counter.
Impact came at one of Chameleon's blinding swings; with a thrust of the trident, her leg struck the bar, crushing the knee pad to several pieces. The girl flailed midair, but there was no way to finish her, for Seiya skipped onward and yelled from the side: "PEGASUS METEOR FIST!"
Spheres of light stormed the god's way, and he turned no dissimilar from them, his mien coated in a beauteous glow. Inhumanly he avoided each threat as he cut the path to the moving Saint, but a miscalculation nigh shocked him. From the opposite side Hyoga had raised a great amount of Cosmos and prepared a move his own, one that forced Poseidon to change plans at once.
As Cygnus raised an arm, he shouted: "ЛЕДЯНОЙ СМЕРЧ!" Despite this polar low being more powerful than it had ever been with newfound knowledge, launching frozen debris and shards dozens of meters across the main hall, the god had already flipped up, and spun himself the opposite direction.
The antagonistic forces created turmoil, but Poseidon spawned ice too, one colder and harder. Crystals blew out from the twister's center, and sent the three fighters away from their enemy, stung by hard particles. While Seiya and Hyoga quickly rolled to their knees or feet, June rolled onto her side, releasing a terrifying scream.
First the two young men realized that their foe landed calm, then that their ally appeared in severe pain. June held the leg afflicted during the latest shock; knowing that this was a matter of life and death, she tried to pull herself up, but she couldn't help but scream more. The strike was so forceful that the knee came close to snapping, and so it suffered her to move it even a millimeter.
However, Poseidon did not continue the bout. Instead, he heard a boom come from behind, in the courtyard's direction, which cued him to raise a palm at it. Cosmic power flew, rebinding the curse to Athena's fate; in the need to avoid those Saints, he briefly forgot the greatest obstacle to his goals.
"June, can you get up?" Seiya intensified the voice so she could hear him.
The girl tried once, twice, but all she mustered was a half stand, the weakened leg continuing to refuse her desires. Only a gasp escaped her mouth, and they could see a vulnerability in her expression that was normally forbidden to them. The injury was yet too much. "I'll… I can…" she barely whispered ere being cut by another groan.
All attention was brought back to Poseidon, whose energy recollected after turning attention to his niece. As it stood, it could be that incapacitated friends were a bigger threat to everyone, yet there was no safe manner to haul June out of battle.
"Take your time. We will find a way," Hyoga told her, eye glued to the god.
Surely they would press on struggling, but as time went on and their attempts to halt him failed, more risks were taken, and worse was the possible outcome. Perplexed regarding Athena's situation and reaction in the Mainstay, they could not trust anything but their own power in holding back humanity's demise.
And so the battle between Andromeda and Siren went on simultaneously. In the South Atlantic's courtyard, a whisper announced another song, a much more willful one than Sorrento's past exercises. "Heed the Final Caprice," the man said before it, and the way which he titled it seemed as magical as the sound spawned therewith.
The first anthem-like notes were recognizable to someone like Shun. Though it was familiar, it took him a moment to realize its exact composition, especially since Cosmos made the notes spread along space as ink would do underwater. Howsoever delicate were the blown tones, the Andromeda Chain reacted in apparent terror, forced around with disembodied pulls and pushes.
"Huh?" Shun looked down at his hands and attempted to get a hold of the chain, ordering it as he would his own limbs, though they failed to obey. The fast music made it impossible for the square chain to penetrate Sorrento's perimeter; indeed, the chain barely responded to its Saint's wont. "That is Paganini's Twenty-Fourth Caprice! Why arrange violin music for the flute?"
The answer was right before him — in fact, it surrounded him and enfolded him. His Cloth's plates began to vibrate, and the tiniest of splits formed whenever frequencies resonated a bit too harshly. Sorrento was correct in his assessment that one could not so easily escape the Siren's song; perhaps there was no manner by which music could ever be evaded when paired with the Cosmos, a force ingrained in existence.
Urgency overwhelmed the boy, and so he bounced off his place, attempting to counteract the Caprice's influence. It was not just the air and solids that danced to this composition, the universe did so too; demons and spirits were sure to sway at its onset. Shun tried sending the chain several instances, seeking a weakness in Siren's technique, but the weapon was blown away without interval.
Over the course of this, the Saint was enlightened regarding Sorrento's choice. Indeed that exercise in virtuosity was a song made to enchant devils, and despite his efforts to end it before a particular section in memory arrived, higher-pitched notes started to kick like plasma from below, striking him and the chain many a time.
With speed and agility, Andromeda defended, bounced off, or countered these flings, albeit not without sacrificing any danger he could posit the Mariner. During the ordeal, Siren did not move a foot from where he stood; only his head and fingers flowed with the melody, hair oft caressed by the excesses of Cosmos.
Lost in the floating rhythm, Shun was fully struck by one of the strides of energy, as they were too many even for someone of his caliber. Coming like a crimson shock wave spawned from Sorrento's aura, the attack crashed part of a shoulder pad and a chunk off the breastplate, exposing some of the Saint's fair skin.
The harm was clear and Andromeda shouted, quieted by the quaking note that came thereafter. Following a brief pause, it was not only melody that exited Siren's flute, but somehow harmony; somehow two — haply three notes resounded from his breath. That which a violin could do and a flute could not, the man did much more, and Andromeda was stunned, suspended in the skies.
Flesh and Cloth vibrated more strongly. This section, coming nearly a minute in, was a mixture of wondrous and demonic. The more its octaved layers spread through the temple, the more pain was inflicted unto the Saint. Soon it pierced his eardrums, then the back of his eyes, and in a second his whole skull. Feeling the brain tumble inside its cage caused a pain so visceral that Shun raised both hands up to the forehead.
Though he held the skull and the ears beneath the helmet, nothing could fully cancel the intensity of those frequencies. The sound carried him downward and upward, like a bed of warm air, and he was at the Caprice's mercy. With eyes perturbed, Andromeda looked for a way out in the vicinity, seeing naught but deep red blotches flowing like veils between lensed light.
A thousand presences now occupied the great aura Sorrento exhaled, each and every one of them confusing the Andromeda Chain further. The metal clung together and turned against itself, bending till it snapped thousandfold; all of its enchanted material died then and there, carried only by the song's effects.
Following many long seconds, another brief silence came, upon which Shun felt his body fall a couple meters. What succeeded was an onslaught of notes that would last minutes. The previous apparitions struck him directly over and over again, never allowing him to touch the floor; even when the boy could move somewhat, there was no manner by which he could react to the speed and volume.
Like before, the Andromeda Cloth cracked in several parts, exposing more skin to the open air. Where this unprotected flesh was struck, scrapes, burns, or bruises were left behind. Shun finally found himself, and tried grabbing onto the chain to attack the source of this haunting, though, dead as it was, it was like launching any ordinary piece of metal.
All of his intricate evasions were properly studied by Sorrento's redirection of the Caprice's notes, and the General did not even need to dodge Shun's eventual responses, since these would never reach him. So, when the end of the composition approached, and much of the Andromeda Cloth had been destroyed, the most stunning series of notes were blown into the flute and out to Atlantis at large.
Whatever were these spirits that danced to the Siren's song, they trapped and advanced into Andromeda in tandem, finally splitting skin, spraying blood to be carried by sound, and smashing the helmet to smithereens. The remains of the chain were trashed, ripped to pieces by the residual force, and finally the youth was allowed to drop onto the marble tiles.
Numbness took over most of the boy's body then. Small pools of blood former under him, and a headache filled in the gap left by the Caprice's leave. Knowing it was perilous, Shun turned himself to the side and forced a hand against the floor, but his weakness was yet high. He looked down at his situation and saw his torso exposed, ugly wounds stabbed through formerly immaculate skin.
Worse, the weapon he grew so accustomed to was left in shambles, now little but piles of broken metal. Siren's boots lightly trailed past them, but when the Saint stared up at the enemy, he didn't seem to plan a strike at a downed adversary.
Sorrento stopped several steps afar, that demonic instrument thankfully held distant from the lips. "With Cosmos, a song affects more than just the ear. Sound travels through air; if you could not hear the Final Caprice, it would still harm you. Even the deaf may fall prey to the Mermaid and the Siren. There is no escaping us," he solemnly spoke.
"I must admit…" the impaired Saint groaned as he forced the arms "… you are the most terrifying opponent I have ever faced, Sorrento." He was able to stand by little, since he had to balance weight onto his limp elbows in order to push up. No less, the legs were an effort to hold steady in that state. If the Mariner were hasty, he could defeat the boy with ease in that moment.
Nonetheless, a man that hateful still held gentleness in his heart, a trait he believed much of humanity lacked. "It is too early for one such as you to praise me. You have lost your anchors, Andromeda, and lacking that Cloth, you are exposed to my every attack. Your life is in great risk. The coming minutes shall prove how deadly both of us truly are," said Sorrento.
As he was, Shun did not know if there was an equality of powers then. Haply he could stop the enemy with his Cosmos unfettered, though Siren, like the other Generals and the Gold Saints, was no mere soldier. There was no certain telling how their next skirmish would conclude itself, but he had no option but to fight.
The boy braced for what was about to be another battle too risky for comfort, and yet his anxieties were tranquilized. A womanly voice bubbled across Atlantis, this once not coming from Thetis' velvety throat; this was a much louder, more stately tone. Flustered, Sorrento's face lowered slightly to identify what took place.
The language was Greek; the melody evolved through a series of ancient modes; the timbre was that woman's — it was Athena who sang. A radiating arc of blessed light cut through the South Atlantic Temple, momentarily crowding the courtyard to bring a soothing warmth. This was timely, and this light soon left, but the thing came in a rhythm, repeating over and over.
It was obvious the source of this marvelous energy. From the bottom of the Mainstay, Athena's singing somehow exploded to be heard by all in the land, fueling the spirits of Saints, angering the hearts of Marina.
In the Temple of Poseidon, those present came to hear her while their troublesome fighting was midway. June's movements stalled due to her major injury, and Hyoga was weakened from the increased blood loss; only Seiya remained intact in the meantime, though, facing a fighter so great, this certainly would not go on forever.
But neither would Athena allow her men and women to fight on without hearing her words, so her song came, and her light shone from the courtyard into the crumbling halls. Poseidon attempted to reinforce the curse, but with how she shielded her position, he manipulated only the Cosmoi of his priests, never hers.
Pestered, the god slammed the trident's bottom against the cracked flooring, and growled: "Quiet! Quiet down!" His wrath exhaled a sinister aura, one capable of chilling the air. "That is enough of you, Athena. By the end of this, you will fall silent!"
The inspired Saints rose above their injuries and hopelessness in face of absolute failure. Each took a stance and made Poseidon their target, no matter their limitations.
"Athena hasn't given up yet, so I won't give up either," Seiya said.
"I don't care if I die," June spoke amid gasps of pain, only one arm aimed forward, "I'll fight for her, for humanity, and for Sanctuary until my last breath."
"That's what Lady Athena plans on doing," Hyoga said, his cold blood yet running down exposed wounds. "While she fights, so do the Saints!"
"Petty Saints… for you to continue fighting me is useless," Poseidon replied. "The one I rightly fear is my niece. All else shall perish by my hand."
"Oh, I'll die," Seiya gave in to his threats with a scowl, "but not before I make a god bleed!"
He thus advanced with greater fierceness than prior, never minding exhaustion and aches. The other two Saints did the same, despite their hurt, though they were avoided by Poseidon just the same. The god did his best to not overreach his Cosmos, even more now that Athena had shown signs of life to Atlantis at large. Unless the Bronze Saints made a grave mistake, he shied from any advance.
The ways with which the warriors crossed his path would've been a grand issue to any other, though to him it begot only moderate effort to ensure he wasn't struck. Athena's song pestered the man, yet he endured conservative in his responses.
Each of the marvelous — if not clumsy — of the attacks launched his direction were premeditated in split seconds, such that he could step off-path without ill. His body fluidly answered every swing with perfect avoidance, and once there was no assurance he could avoid an evolving situation, he spun the trident and blew in shards of dust, launching the three back.
To pressure them into a precarious position, Poseidon marched in June's direction, for she was the most debilitated of the bunch. The corridor she fell into had been massacred by combat, the ceiling sunk or chopped off in many areas, and the flooring turned to a treacherous surface.
Once the thin veil of debris was out of the way, he sharply saw the girl fallen meters ahead, and so he readied to launch his weapon whence he stood. June's gray eyes raised to stare at the aiming edges, and she planted a boot to the floor, the other leg balanced on a knee. The amazon gave no words; there was no fear in her expression, and in fact, she raised Cosmos as if daring the god to be prompt.
At the same moment that Poseidon sent the thing towards her, Chameleon apparently strode against it, but soon it was clear that something broke the blades' path. The sound of crashing glass, interspersed with a severe bang, evidenced Kiki having spawned a Crystal Wall between the combatants. June did not seek to meet her death head on, but to protect the boy.
As Aries' apprentice was pushed back by the force, and expecting the god to press on, the amazon caught the kid in an embrace and fell with him behind the enemy, closer to the ravaged wall. Poseidon's priority for those instants became retrieving the trident and fending off the other Saints, therefore she concentrated on skipping off to some better shelter with Kiki.
The battle went on behind them, and she found one of the few corridors left half intact, venturing into a dark room wherein drink and grain were stored. The girl stumbled onto her weakened leg and ended up dropping the one she defended to the ground, then rolled to the side such that she would not fall onto him.
"What… what the hell were you thinking?" she asked, yet Kiki was dazed and too out of air to respond at once.
"I couldn't let that happen, I…" the kid's voice was huffed, and his words could barely be made out. "It worked when I helped… when I helped Shiryu, so…"
June's eyes scanned around his body to check he was fine, apart from shallow scratches; noting how it was a female Saint's exposed gaze that studied him, Kiki instinctively turned his sight. "You seem fine. Now, who let you come all the way here?"
In his diversion, the boy frowned and realized that the straps were not by his shoulder. "The Cloth!" he exclaimed. "I was sent to bring Lady Athena's Cloth, but I left it back where we were!"
"Her Cloth?"
"Yeah! Without it, she's going to struggle against that guy. We need to give her the Cloth at all costs!"
When the bursts of Cosmos seemed to move in that direction, June automatically pushed Kiki low by the shoulder. "Stay down," she ordered, and suddenly that storage had part of the ceiling and wall crushed to pieces; through the openings a mix of burnt fabric and snow crystals flew in.
The sound had been earsplitting and required that they speak louder, however, Chameleon had no spare time to entertain the boy's presence. She got up again, feeling somewhat better, and gave a last demand before leaving: "Hide and don't come out unless it's safe!"
"But…"
Kiki's protest was cut by the young woman leaping in Poseidon's direction, ripping an arc of teal light in her wake. He looked on astounded at a level of battle he could not comprehend, let alone partake in.
Yet facing the deadly Siren in the South Atlantic, Shun had calmer moments to appreciate his Lady's voice. Whence came its sound, ringing through halls and hills, he knew she surely had been put inside the Mainstay. Above all, hearing her words, he realized another meritorious fact: the melodies were an offering to the fighters from Sanctuary, but the lyrics were a clamor in offering to the Marina. Despite it all, she cried for the enemy as well.
"Ἔλεε!" she wept a long note. "Ἆ δείλ᾽ τέκνον, ἦ δὴ πολλὰ κάκʼ ἄνσχεο σὸν κατὰ θυμόν!" [Mercy! Alas, wretched child, sooth many evils in thy soul hast endured!] Sorrento especially could hear it, that the modes which she transitioned to and fro were alien, that the metrics were unheard of even to an erudite such as him; though, enveloped in such music, no man could deny its beauty. "Ἀλλ᾽ μὴ δέ τί τοι θάνατος μελέτω φρεσὶ μηδέ τι τάρβος! Ἔλεε!" [But have neither death nor fear in thy thoughts! Mercy!]
It did not escape the General that its calls felt personal to him, a prayer so that he let go of his allegiance to Poseidon's wrath, which left him tense. However, this cry invigorated the weakened Shun, who was more than ready to go on without the chain.
"She lives! Under Poseidon's custody, yet still…" the boy clasped both fists, seeking physical strength in them, for his bleeding body would have to lift a penance in the coming minutes "… even when left alone, Lady Athena abides for us and humanity. Only death would part her from resistance."
"Always that woman…" a pestered Sorrento scoffed, readying the flute; his lips were stunned while Athena's prayer continued. He felt compelled not to play.
Shun noted the foe's wariness and said: "It appears you are astonished by her too. Do you see the wisdom in her?"
"There is no wisdom in siding with humanity," Siren replied. "Damn this prayer hers…"
"No matter, I must apologize. I realize it is time to end this," said Andromeda, and for such words to exit his mouth, no enemy would feel at rest. "Our Lady's voice beckons me to the Mainstay; I must take down this pillar with haste. I hope you survive this, Sorrento."
Absconding any hint of apprehension, the General finally found the means to blow air into the flute, rising Cosmos as the Saint did. The melody he varied upon was intricate and hypnotic, and as it reached out in dissonance to Athena's voice, it was blocked by some rising wind.
Shun's power trapped the song like a twister readying to form; the gales were laced with magenta plasma, purple thunder, and the occasional crystalline nature of aurorae. No longer limited by the chain, no need remained to seek each note as it shifted pressure in the air. Rather everything was affected. There was no escaping within the eye of this tornado — nothing in that perimeter, close and around the South Atlantic Pillar, could escape what would ensue.
Air pushed against the flute, silencing Sorrento's strong form often. "What is this?" the man whispered to himself. His hair was washed back and sideways, helmet flying off, and his stare aimed upwards, to where he could see the horrifying sight of his foe's ability. Much like he once spawned demons to haunt Andromeda, now the boy originated a devil his own.
"Forgive me, I am left with no choice…" Shun said. "NEBULA STORM!"
That torment penetrated the center at once, filling it in an instant. Not only could no sound travel through its warm sheets of plasma without wilting, Siren felt himself slowly lose ground. The force was such that he gave up on playing the flute, and focused on not being struck with the obelisk.
In that instant a flashback of the Mediterranean Sea caught him; in the storm's tepid entrails, suddenly his heart sunk cold, and then his spine and skin, taken by trauma. Entirely ensnared, he felt like his child self drowning in tempestuous waters, so he no longer fought back.
The man was propelled cleanly through the crumbling pillar, then off past the temple's walls. While the structure faltered, Shun raised both hands, palms up, conducting the winds to wrap the falling materials. This somehow delimited the dust clouds sure to flood the grounds of Atlantis.
As such the pillar fell with minimal impact on the battlefield behind, and only nearby temples were affected by the Nebula Storm's intense force. Once this came to an end, Shun rested both arms and watched the resulting destruction. Above and about the remains — under which a priest had surely been crushed — a low haze of dust remained, and the boy fell to a single knee, relieved that this fight had come to its end.
He had only hopes that Sorrento survived their final clash, though his attention was brought to the neighboring temple, that of the North Atlantic. There one could've found the last Oceanic Pillar standing, its courtyard far from peaceful. Two sources of Cosmos already vied for victory.
"Whoever that person is, they are busy at the North Atlantic," Shun remarked, referring to the one who had finished Caça. He knew this ally was not prone to downing the pillars, though if they were to take down its guardian, there would be no manner of protection to it anyhow. His choice was clear: "Time is of the essence. I should go help the others in the Mainstay!"
Therewith the boy stood and walked a bit, testing the stability of his knees. They were a tad stiff, albeit functional enough for him to up the speed and lunge into the distance in rapid succession.
It was far back, in the core of the war, that soldiers saw that other spectacle befalling the South Atlantic. Sanctuary's army had pushed deep into Atlantean territory, so much that, in the fronts led by the Gold Saints, only one blockade remained. Although Shaina's squadrons struggled to go further, they had passed through much of the defenses, just not without incurring great losses.
Wherever the war passed, lines of bloodied dead were left staining the ground, along with the defiled surface and broken buildings. Ophiuchus attacked with such voracity that she splattered great lines of blood across the field, and even Thetis was forced to back up to higher ground.
The Atlanteans convened near the last lines of men and women ready to die for Poseidon, and there Mermaid skipped to reach the summit of a barricade. It was thus that she met the sight of the South Atlantic Pillar caught in a pink maelstrom, muffling and cutting Sorrento's song. Despite the sound of destruction harming their ears and quaking the ground, they were otherwise shielded from the debris thanks to Andromeda's diligence.
Thetis' deepest fear unfolded before her sight. Tears wet her cheeks as she thought of what led the two of them under the oceans, previous lives growing in ignorance in Southern Italy. "Sorrento, no…" she lamented, but like before, this sadness was quickly replaced by burning rage. "No!" the young woman shouted, turning once more to the Saints.
The infuriated Mermaid did not bother singing any longer. Once the deafening echoes waned, Athena's sweet voice continued her prayer. Thetis fought mindlessly, distributing extreme violence, unbothered by her position as commander. Rather, she only wished to kill those within reach whom she deemed responsible.
Shaina was the only one strong enough to hold her, and so she did, lest more Saints fall prey to her tantrum. Whereas the leader of the Atlantean defenses succumbed to her irrational vindictiveness, Sanctuary gained further ground, and the enemy wavered. The main front came closer to the last of Atlantis' lifeline, and the fronts of Mu and Aldebaran already stormed the hindmost barrier, a matter of minutes away from invading the temples.
Finally, Atlantis walked to its own death. Its decisive defeat was naught but assured, unlike Athena's safety. Only when the Saints knew their Lady was alive and well would Sanctuary ease their vehemence.