Matthew didn't stop or even react as his spear impaled through Artorian's back before the Abysswalker had the time to react. It was a failed attempt at a quick kill, the Abysswalker reacting faster then he expected. He had attempted to pierce his skull and destroy the brain, the only guaranteed way to kill a transforming Abysswalker in one move.

And now the Abyss was aware of his target.

In a blink he was dozens of meters away, watching as the pus beast rushed him with infected gums and rotting teeth. In just a single thrust of his spear he eviscerated the slopping flesh and ichor into dust, appearing in front of Artorian and impaling into his liver. Without so much as flinching, the Abysswalker was skewered over a dozen times, lightning blasting across his entire body and sending him crashing back into the cliffside.

The Abysswalker growled before lunging to the side, Matthew spear destroying three meters of stone after a secondary blast of lightning tore through earth. More of the wall of rock shattered apart as Artorian slammed his fist into the missed spear, the pus beast exploding back out with maggots and polluted blood as it roared with fury.

A slash from Matthew's spear ripped it in half vertically, the Lord grunting as both ends of his polearm were grabbed by the jaws and he was dragged towards the opposing wall. Even bisected the beast was reacting, but wasn't a threat as lightning shot out from the blade and cooked the disgusting right half of the beast. Matthew then grabbed the remaining half, clenching his hand as the contact alone charred the maggots and blood that made up the body.

A mere flex of his fingers then resulted in the complete annihilation of the beast, chunks of burning maggots flying away. The Lord of lightning then flashed back as Artorian slammed his fist into the ground, rushing after him without focus and wild strikes.

Without a weapon and consumed by the Abyss, Artorian was nothing more than a rampaging savage. Before, the Abysswalker had tactics that kept the Dragonslayer guessing on what might come next. Use the environment, feint with one arm, switch from dual blades to sword and shield, or simply two-hand his father's sword for destructive capabilities. Dirty hits, sand in the eye, clawing at the ears, smash his footing; none of that was being used by what was in front of Matthew.

The Abyss was doing nothing more than thrashing at him with hand and beast, the latter of which being cooked and boiled the moment it erupted out again. This time a pained shriek came from Artorian at the beast's destruction. Not one that belonged to the man, this was primordial, like the souls of hell were screaming out their agony, begging to be freed from the torment. Matthew wasn't religious, Lords as a whole weren't. Their notion of Gods was less of a higher power with omnipotent power and more of a different species. Gwyn was a God, so was Gwyndolin and Gwynevere, blessings upon the Martyred Lady. And they had no concept of hell or devils.

But the shriek that came from Artorian, and the pulsing mass of infected flesh at the end of his arm's stump made him believe there really was a hell. And one of its devils was right in front of him.

'I'm sorry Artorian, I should have killed you while you were still conscious.' Matthew apologized to Artorian, sidestepping a snap of the Abysswalker's teeth before raising his hand. As if by instinct he blasted lightning that burned away the rotting flesh of the pus beast halfway into its latest resurrection.

A surprise kick from Artorian knocked Matthew's spear out of his hands, clattering meters away as the Abysswalker closed the gap. A snarling glare was instantly bloodied as Matthew barraged his face, ten punches striking before he could register he was struck. It appeared to be an opening, but as Matthew turned to go for his weapon the Abysswalker returned with a stomp.

Matthew narrowly avoided the strike, a chunk of his armor shattering from being grazed as the ground collapsed underneath them. As Artorian readied a punch to shatter the Dragonslayer's ribs, he was barraged across his entire body by lightning infused blows. A last double palm strike followed with a blast of lightning sent the Abysswalker flying away, and giving Matthew the window he needed to reclaim his lost weapon.

As Artorian tumbled to his feet, he instantly stepped aside when Matthew's spear appeared, his cheek cut open and his teeth exposed through bleeding flesh. Matthew blocked a punch with his polearm, and was thankful he did at feeling the force knock him sliding back. With a pulse of lightning he melted the ground beneath him and caught himself with the lava, shooting out like his element and delivering a spear thrust that tore into the Abysswalker's torso.

He had missed the heart, the monster's last-minute move having prevented the blow and sacrificing a lung instead. A destroyed heart wouldn't kill an Abysswalker at this point, but evident as the black veins across Artorian's bulged at the increased heartrate, it would have slowed it down. Matthew's eyes then went to the side as the pus beast attempted to clamp its jaws at his chest.

Forcing his spear up, he impaled the roof of its mouth and began to be pushed back, dust and ice being shot around as his feet dug into the rocky earth. His spear kept the beast's rotten mouth open, unable to bend the material or snap the refined Lord craftmanship that made the spearhead. With the fusion of his father's old cross spear and the variable stone for his Hundred, the entire spear was that of Lord quality. It was not as ornate as what would traditionally be crafted, but it was just as strong as his father's once was, making it impossible for a cursed monster like this to even dent it.

Lightning crackled across his hands before pouring into his spear, and once again the pus beast was blown to smatterings. This time, the heat was enough to melt the maggots into useless sludge, the black ichor evaporating in the air as the intensity of Matthew's lightning increased. He was no longer holding back, as a spear of lightning shot out from his hand and the Abysswalker dodged, molten rock left in its wake before Matthew slashed across the monster's chest.

A bright red glow replaced the darkening flesh as if metal was being heated. The residual magic then exploded as Artorian shrieked in agony, Matthew twisting his spear in preparation as he once again went for the Abysswalker's head. And that was when the Abyss shot out from his dismembered hand to form tendrils instead of the beast, lashing at Matthew and forcing the Dragonslayer to parry and slice the living shadows with holy lightning.

He spun his spear around with both hands, forming a defensive guard as over a dozen tendrils formed and whipped across the battlefield, none going directly for Matthew. It appeared to be more of a fear tactic then offense, as the Abyss was more than aware of his attempts to splatter its brains and end this now. And that was fine.

Matthew didn't need to worry about the Abyss knowing his strategy to kill it. After all, he only had to wear it down. So far the Abyss has saved itself with last second counters or dodges that often got it wounded again. He just had to keep laying on the hurt, his lightning wounded the corruption at its source. Eventually it would lag, or a muscle would twitch from his lightning, and that would be the end of it.

Thrusters burned to life as Matthew took to the sky, gripping his spear with his right hand as the tendrils all descended on him. Three were cut to ashes as he flew up, and two more burned away as lightning sparked and cleansed their filth. With a moment to look, Matthew saw the blackened corruption spread further now. It filled in the wound on Artorian's chest, void flesh replacing what was lost and had now claimed half of Artorian's head. Silver hair was clashing with the lack of life that shrouded him, his mouth now gone as it was filled and closed with sludge and rotten blood.

'This mutation is worse than what Abysswalker's usually experience.' Matthew thought, flying forth to avoid the lashing tendrils and chunks of ice that were thrown up at him.

As Matthew sent a slash of lightning that nearly bisected the Abysswalker, he took note of how the Abyss was keep the body together. Blood, black and red spurted out before sludge instantly filled back in, returning to a texture of skin that was unlike previous victims had. The Abyss rarely gave a healing factor to the Abysswalkers, ironically it was nature's way of preventing them from being unstoppable.

At least… for the Abyssal strain. Matthew recalled the encounter in the Qin forests, the Abysswalker Alonne possessed a terrifying regenerative factor unseen in lore. Even with a lost head, he came back to life like a spirit. It wouldn't be far to assume that Alonne was a true immortal, unphased by time and immune to the embrace of death. And if that was the case, could Artorian have become this too?

Matthew immediately shook that thought from his head; there was no true immortality. It was against nature itself, and as perverted as it was, the Abyss was a part of nature. Artorian's Abyss is likely experiencing a high, perhaps borrowing a variation of regeneration that Envy possessed before being eaten. The Abyss didn't absorb powers, a disturbing discovery Matthew found in his father's notes.

According to lore, Artorian's grandfather was perhaps the most twisted result of Abysswalker's being allowed to breed. After 800 years of service as an Abysswalker, Artoraqil proved to be unique and lasted significantly longer to the Abyss at a glance. However, he had not produced an heir yet, and often his mates would vanish without a trace. Under normal circumstances, this would be ignored, as Lords cared little for Vessels of the Abyss given as bearers for a child. But upon Oristin's insistence he was allowed to investigate and discover the horror that was occurring.

Artorian's grandfather, Artoraqil, was cannibalizing his mates while in the act of procreation. His lack of an heir after 500 years of breeding, and prolonged last against the Abyss was not from a rare gene that could support him, but through the grotesque act of consuming the weaker strains to sedate his own.

That act was what resulted in the finality of Abyssal bloodline being casted as abominations too far gone to be trusted. Artoraqil was immediately executed before consuming his last mate, Oristin wasting no time in slaughtering the monster. What had assumed to be the death of the Abyssal bloodline, was turned into a curse disguised as a blessing, as the Vessel saved by Oristin had become pregnant.

Artoraqil had consumed nearly five hundred Lords, sacrificed without being known as they were little more than Vessels. Had the Abyss be able to absorb powers, he may have been able to destroy the whole world. So Matthew knew whatever Artorian was doing now wasn't an evolution, but just a cheap mimicry of what Envy had done before.

There was a limit to what this regeneration could do, and discovering it took priority. Matthew then raised his spear, charging bolt after bolt around him as he was surrounded by a circle of crackling energy. With the thrust of the polearm, ten lightning strikes blasted into the Abysswalker and surrounding area, scorching stone that endured and eradicating that which couldn't.

Flesh boiled off of Artorian's body as the Abyss forced the body to remain upright, Tendrils wrapping between his left arm to keep the last hanging piece of meat from falling. It then sidestepped as Matthew tore into its stomach, metal cleansing the rotting flesh before he thrusted the blunt end of his polearm to knock its arm back. A turn of the blade, and Matthew burned through flesh again and blasting away three tendrils that went for his throat.

Four punctures then followed, and Artorian shrieked with rage as the empty wounds exploded with the purifying affect of lightning. Matthew watched as the polluted blood refilled the open wounds, before forcing his hand in and firing a blast that nearly tore the Abysswalker apart as it flew back.

Tendrils of black ichor tore down to keep the halves of Artorian connected, and that was the confirmation Matthew needed. The Abyss' regeneration could fill the missing pieces, but had to keep itself together in order to heal extensive damage. If he could separate the head from the body, it'd be powerless to resist outside of the already failed tendrils and beast.

As the Abyss prepared to retaliate, Matthew raised his free hand and slammed a spear of lightning into the ground. A second, larger bolt came crashing from the clouds and blasted the surrounding ten meters with holy energy. The miracle burned into the Abysswalker's flesh as it crashed into the cliffside hard enough to collapse the stone. As it was buried under the roc k, Matthew swung his spear to the side, charging more lightning as a golden aura surrounded him.

In contrast, the pile of rock began to bleed away the light, darkness stealing away whatever lived in the soil and air before the stone blasted away with a roar of fury. Artorian's form was in front of Matthew in less than a second, and yet as its hand reached for him the Dragonslayer disappeared from sight for less than a blink.

Next, his spear pierced Artorian's back and sent him into the ground. All of Matthew's energy and lightning transferred into the polearm, and after a gentle flash the entire canyon exploded in golden radiance. Whatever ice remained turning to gas as the entire area became scarred with the incredible power.

As the power died down, Matthew winced as several slashes appeared across his body and he retreated back. The tendrils at Artorian's side had gripped at his spear and redirected him away from his intended target, preventing its heart from being destroyed and stopping him from going for his head after. Once again he was without his spear, as Artorian's form stood with it in grasp. Usually, a Slayer could simply reform their weapon with the use of energy. But with his father's spear head infused with the weapon, it was a more taxing focus that without it being shattered would leave him vulnerable.

Durability at the cost of practicality, it's a good trade under most circumstances.

Taking his stance, Matthew showed no hesitation as lightning crackled across his entire body. As like Artorian, Matthew was no less a threat with his weapon gone, it just meant his reliance was on another gift. Unlike the Abysswalker however, Matthew's power was reliable and in his full control. And as all that was left of Artorian was the surrounding area of his left eye, it was to say the reliance of both was vital now.

The Abysswalker looked to the spear in its hand, grinning at the realization before handing it to a tendril. It appeared ready to charge, but then flung the spear away, intending to keep it away from him. The feeling of burning impact proved to be its undoing, as Matthew's hand tore through Artorian's side before he grabbed the end of the polearm.

A kick to his side however forced Matthew to let go again, before using a chop to lob off three tendrils as they wrapped him up. A strike of unbelievable force had the Dragonslayer cough blood out, feeling the cracks in his ribs at Artorian's successful blow. A blow he returned tenfold, the lightning infused strikes shattering every rib the Abysswalker had before a palm strike to its skull knocked it recoiling back.

With a wave of his hand, Matthew fired a barrage of minor lightning spears, burning into the flesh of the Abysswalker before delivering a kick that snapped Artorian's knee in the wrong direction. And yet the Abysswalker still retaliated with a punch, Matthew's instinct to go with the blow saving his skull from being caved in.

The Abysswalker appeared gleeful in its one eye, preparing for another strike before Matthew's return spin had his foot collide with its chin. With perfect control and focus, Matthew redirected all of his magic and energy into his returning strike, lightning boiling the Abysswalker's face and exposing rotten flesh before a secondary explosion sent the beast flying back.

This time as it fell, no secondary movement caused the Abysswalker to stop. Instead it tumbled away for several meters before clawing to its hands and knees with slow adjustment. Twitches at its muscles revealed the lasting affect of Matthew's lightning before it vomited out blood and maggots, the polluted ichor replacing the lost skin and corruption while reforming the shattered ribs and fractured skull.

Matthew then reclaimed his fallen spear, seeing he had time left as Artorian's form couldn't get up past the knees. The Dragonslayer wiped his lip free of blood for a moment before feeling out his ribs. Two were broken, and eight were cracked at best. Blood also decorated the right side of his face, as he was lucky that the blow didn't knock his head clean off.

It made him wonder if the power behind Artorian was what his strain was fully capable of, or if he was lucky and the Abysswalker suffered too much damage prior to be a threat. Traditionally a fallen Abysswalker required a Dragonslayer and two squads of Silver Knights to be certain it was taken out with minimal casualties. The only exceptions had been Artoraqil, who was killed by Oristin before he could transform; and Artorias, who expired after fighting off thirty Trenta by himself.

Matthew's lightning was specially crafted for killing the Abyss, and even then he had nearly lost his life at the moment closest to victory. He was so focused on the kill, he hadn't expected the Abyss to draw him in with a trap like that. It seemed too human, too intelligent to be a possibility.

'Could that mean he's…' Matthew stopped himself from thinking further as he readied his spear, watching as Artorian's form gurgled and groaned. 'No, the Abyss has taken over. He's gone. A cornered rat can even harm a cat, it was an effort that anything could do.'

He couldn't let possibilities cloud his judgement, Artorian was corrupted by the Abyss and his mental resistance was gone now. All that was left of him was a single, crimson eye. The other had been sealed away under obsidian flesh, lost to the corruption that slithered in his soul for so many years. All that was left now was a host, a mannequin for the vileness of human nature to twist and force to its will.

It would be cruel to hold out a false hope, to see the broken visage and believe that somehow if kept alive Artorian could be saved. He was gone, and it was his duty to let him rest. Lightning began to pulse across his spear, supercharging as bolts escaped and tore into the surrounding stone, scaling up the cliffsides as the polearm went from golden metal to golden light. As Matthew broke down his weapon into pure energy and lightning, his hand began to tremble before he placed the base of his palm to his other, cupping the growing energy as he felt his muscles begin to tense from the overwhelming buildup.

He had been taught countless applications of using lightning, but was informed the greatest spell required a level of control on Lord Gwyn himself possessed. To all others, the spell could overwhelm them if used, but it was the best guarantee to remove any remains of the Abysswalker. He couldn't risk it this was another ploy, if he took any more damage he may not be able to kill the monstrosity, but even then he knew every way possible to eliminate it. Destroying the brain was the best situation, but if the Abyss baited him again he'd be vulnerable.

So destroying it at range was the obvious choice. It was wounded and stunned, even if it could move, it wouldn't be able to dodge in time. And that meant he could finish this.

As the gurgling Abysswalker found some composure, it stared blankly at the Dragonslayer. It was almost a form of acceptance, as the bright iris stared into Matthew's brown eyes. That glow was barely seen before Matthew's vision went past his overflowing power to see his fellow Lord. He would stare the man in the eyes, wishing to give him a worthy death. It was all he could do for him now to end the suffering.

But that was when he saw the unimaginable. It wasn't the vile, crimson glow of the Abyss glaring at him as was expected. That scarlet orb was being eaten away, not by the shrouding darkness and corruption that stole the rest of his body. Instead, a golden glow with a slit pupil looked wide to him, a building up matching orb slowly burning into the sealed flesh of his right face.

In a flash of blue, the corrupted flesh that overtook Artorian's body was blasted off, exposing the empowered Variant Mode as Artorian released a dry scream with whatever strength he had left. The Abyss immediately went into a hissing frenzy, whips of darkness attempting to ensnare him again. The Abysswalker gripped at the tendrils, tearing them off as fast as he could as it did. When a tendril grabbed him, he tore it off in a sight of maggots and gore, when it forced itself into his mouth, he bit down and spat the rotten material.

It was a battle of thrashing and desperation, Artorian's lone hand and teeth ripping and tearing every speck it could. But even as he did, the Abyss' influence was quickly overwhelming him as he looked to see Matthew's confusion.

The Dragonslayer was trying to understand how this was possible, eons of lore had noted that Abysswalkers could never break the hold. Everyone that fell was lost forever, none could snap away even for a moment to break free of the control the Abyss had.

But Artorian wasn't like the rest, he was an anomaly that Matthew had noted since their meeting. He wasn't a Lord like all the others, instead the result of a human and Lord, a child of twin backgrounds. Could the Abyss have been fighting two halves of a soul instead of one? Did it not evolve for such an encounter? Or was it that which was in his blood? Could the Variant Virus have altered his biology to an extent it could fight the Abyss? Energy was an unknown to Lords, only recently learning more about it. And as of today, Matthew and Artorian were the only ones that possessed the biology to manipulate and generate it.

There were too many anomalies, too many unknowns. Matthew was hesitant because he had no idea what could have caused this. Was the Abyss absorbing the hits he was landing? Or was something burning in Artorian that could force this impossibility? Was this the result of thousands of coincidences happening all at once? Or was there something beyond probability?

"Stop gawking and finish it!" Artorian screamed out, snapping Matthew out of his thoughts as he saw the darkness continue to ebb away at the Abysswalker. He could only tear so much away, and the screeching darkness refused to be denied its host.

A full sentence. A sign of cognitive return, even as the Abyss was swallowing him again.

Matthew transferred the energy and lightning in his palms, feeling a burn begin to form before he spread it across his entire right arm. The transfer of power provided a more stable conduit, and the Dragonslayer felt his entire body tense up for a moment as the new use flooded his senses with burning nerves.

There was too much, too much he had to discover and figure out. He decided here and now, that for the first time since meeting him, Artorian was worth taking the risk. A gamble that may see a new future for Lords and the Abysswalkers, or the utter destruction of civilization. But for once, he believed in that gamble, and would take the opportunity.

"Artorian Abyssal, son of Wolf Knight Artorias, if there is any amount of control you can keep. Make it miss." Was all Matthew said, and Artorian's widening eyes was the evidence to know that the Abysswalker heard.

All that was seen was Matthew lower his center of gravity. After that, he vanished before a powerful boom destroyed the ten meters around him. Moving with the speed of lightning itself, Matthew reared his arm as the air around him began to smolder and burn up. Oxygen burned away as the lightning sparked across him and intensified at his fist.

In that moment, the Abyss attempted to reign control, Artorian's left arm swinging and aiming for the Dragonslayer's damaged skull. But as it was about to land, a flinch gave Matthew the tiniest window to move, giving up nothing as he felt the knuckle cut across the side of his head. But that was all that was needed of him. Both physically, and proof to know he was making the right call.

There were two claps of thunder that went off; the first being from Matthew's movement, and the second being the second after Matthew's fist struck Artorian's chest. At first, there was a mere transfer of the lightning from Matthew to Artorian. For a singular second, it seemed little more than the lightning fading away.

But the second the clap of thunder assault the eardrums of everyone, a pillar of lightning burned through the Abyss, enveloping Artorian's entire body in golden light. It was agonizing, the holy nature of Matthew's power anathema to the Abysswalker's soul. But he felt the dying shrieks of the Abyss as it was ripped from his body. The pressure kept him from being able to regain balance, and yet his feet remained in place.

Rotten charred flesh turned to dust, mist blew away and the sludge across Artorian's body boiled away into worthless steam. Lightning tore apart the entire canyon past Artorian, traveling for miles before an explosion in the distance signaled it reached the end. And even then, the lightning burned and shocked the Abysswalker as the Abyss tried to cling on.

A full minute of continuous lightning dimmed away, and as Matthew stumbled back, remaining on his feet while he looked to the arm he had stored that energy in. His glove had burned off, and his palm and fingers were scarred red from intense burns. But even then, the damage was minimal, a stark reflection to the devastated area that surrounded him.

Looking back to Artorian, it was a shock to see the Abysswalker was standing as well, his body twitching as his face looked up to the sky with overstimulated eyes. The top of his variable suit had completely burned away, an intense burn at the center of his chest and resulting branches of burned flesh showing the point of contact from Matthew's fist. For a silent second, the two hybrids stood across from one another in the stone arena, as if waiting for the other to move first.

It was Artorian that moved, falling to his knees as he remained looking up to the cloudy sky, unable to process anything as darkness still filled his golden eyes. Matthew watched closely, unsure if his plan had managed to burn away the physical corruption of the Abyss. There was no visible sign, but he couldn't lower his guard on the off chance it truly didn't die, as he reformed his Armament in preparation.

At the cliffside, after the intense flash of Matthew's attack had dimmed away, the team attempted to blink away their blindness. When they could see clearly, they watched in astonishment at the sight of Artorian's state. Purified of the corruption, his condition hardly looked any better as he was motionless on his knees. But without the pus and maggots falling from him, there was a level of relief mixed with further confusion amidst the Slayers present.

But none of them were the ones to move first. The first to take off was Charlotte, placing her armor's housing unit onto her chest. Only her gauntlets and greaves formed proper as she jumped down the cliff, digging her fingers into scorched rock and wincing when debris hit her face. When she reached the bottom, she mistimed a step and fell chest first onto the floor. Her breath was knocked out from her, her head struck a stray rock, and her glasses snapped away from the impact.

But she got up without so much as blinking. The armor fell apart as the housing unit clattered to the ground, shattered as years of research was broken in an instant. It didn't matter to her, her blurry vision focusing on the single blob of color that she knew was Artorian.

'Please… please be alive.' She pleaded, panting desperately as each step burned at her muscles. Each step felt like she ran a marathon, and when she finally reached Artorian she slid down on her knees, scrapping them bloody as she began to inspect the Abysswalker's condition. Small scars decorated him, years of abuse having formed them. And a horrid red scar at his chest from Matthew's one-in-a-million gamble.

Artorian appeared fine on the outside, but Charlotte's breath was halted as she placed her ear on his chest. She listened closely, dread on her face as she waited, waited so damn long to hear it. The one certainty to know if he was alive.

*Thump* *Thump* *Thump*

And there it was. The steady, healthy heartbeat that she had heard eighteen years ago. That same heartbeat was now bringing tears to the woman's eyes as she hugged the boy close. Relief, fear and regret had all flooded into her body as she clung to Artorian; terrified that if she let go he would somehow disappear. Scared that if she stopped holding on, the same mistake would repeat itself.

"Huh, so that's what he looks like." In a dimly lit room Charlotte was typing away as she was greeted by a visitor. Well, greeted was putting it nicely, as the visitor was here for the anomaly that was currently gestating. "Hey Char, have you looked at him?"

"I have seen the month-old embryo, yes." Charlotte responded, her attention glued to the information scrolling across her feed.

"Oh come on, he has a name." The man said, kneeling down to the incubation chamber that was housing said embryo. It was a glass cylinder, filled with light blue fluids, a small tube connected to it to provide oxygen and simulate regular hormone processing. "Hey there Artorian, welcome to the world. You're a little early though."

"Is there a reason you're here?" Charlotte asked, the man's smiling remaining as he gently placed his hand on the glass, gentle crimson eyes reflecting as it revealed short silver hair.

"Of course, I wanted to see my baby boy's birth." Artorias responded, looking over to Charlotte again. "Why didn't you tell me the surgery was happening? I said I wanted to see it."

"You were busy exterminating Savage, Souffle and I believed it wasn't worth pulling you out of the mission." Was all Charlotte said in response, still not looking from the screen.

"You know, you should be getting your own rest, that procedure isn't easy." Artorias said, getting a scoff from her in response.

"I'm the greatest inventor of this generation, any day wasted resting is a day we could lose the fight against the Savage."

"Come on Char, you're pushing yourself too much." The Lord said, returning to his imposing height and walking over to the scientist. One look and he saw the exhaustion on her, dark circles under her eyes and pale skin signaling she was quite drained from the surgery… and likely the amount of days she's been in her lab.

"When was the last time you ate?"

"This morning."

"This morning was ten hours ago. And that's if you ate lunch." Artorias responded. "Come on Char, you're pushing yourself too much. It wasn't that long."

"It was long enough."

"Char-"

"Isn't there a embryo you're supposed to fawn over." The scientist snapped back, and if she didn't know better she'd thought she saw hurt in the Lord's eyes, But that was just her eyes playing tricks, Artorias wasn't someone so easily offended.

"Alright, you don't want to talk." Artorias relented, stepping away from her. "I'm going to get some food, what do you want?"

"Just a protein bar."

"Soup and a steak, got it." Artorias decided instead, Charlotte turning to stop him before he chided back. "Oh, so you won't look at me to talk about Artorian, but because I'm getting you a proper meal you'll turn away from work?"

"…Just make it a small bowl. I always make a mess." Was her response, the woman turning back in a mix of embarrassment and tired anger.

"Sure, sure." Artorias chuckled, before reaching down to gently rub the incubation chamber. "Sleep well Artorian, you're going to grow up big and strong one day."

"Ugh." Charlotte groaned when he left, rolling her eyes at his attitude to the embryo. She didn't get the appeal, or rather he didn't understand the drain of that embryo. She didn't know if it was he missed Meiko, or some string in his brain was plucked to get such a parental response from the Lord, but it was off settling. The embryo was just that: an embryo. Artorias was young for a Lord, how was this anything special, even by Abysswalker standards? It was a kid. Not the magic bullet to save the planet. Just a clump of cells that formed an organism. It would grow to be like every other human and Lord.

It wasn't anything special, just a hassle.

"Shit!" Artorias winced as he felt the hot needle pull his stiches together, getting a tired sigh from Charlotte in response.

"Oh stop whining you baby, it was the needle you gave me." Charlotte responded, getting off of the Lord's back as she snipped the spare thread away. A call from the Abysswalker had Warslran's top inventor rush to Yamato, his condition taking a noticeable down curve as she had to remove a shard of Savage plating that got stuck in his wound. Which was upsetting the Abyss, making her have to come down and treat it personally.

"I don't want to hear that from you, Miss Splinter."

"It was one time."

"And that's enough to always hold it over you." Artorias chuckled, Charlotte unable to hide a smile as she shook her head. "So how have you been? It felt like we haven't talked in months."

"I've been pretty busy, Savage core research has been hitting a lot of breakthroughs." Charlotte responded. "I think I'm able to find a way to weaponize it. Souffle and I have been running tests and we've noticed each core has a microscopic lattice superstructure. Like atoms making up atoms. We're trying to adjust the shape to see if we can manipulate the structures. And if we do that…"

"Arsenal of weapons made from the enemy." Artorias concluded. "That science stuff is ridiculous you know? And experimenting on Savage cores, that's some bad voodoo in Lord culture. Always was best to just smash it and detonate their blood."

"And that's why we're already past you in technology." Charlotte countered, getting a shrug from the Lord as he sat up. As he did, Charlotte took note of his torso, the dense muscles and familiar scars reminding her of the first time she was caught staring. It was easy to admit he was a sight to behold at first glance, well kept silver hair, glowing scarlet eyes, and a body a woman with eyes would desire.

"Eyes wandering again?" Artorias said with a smirk, and the scientist rolled her eyes at the notion.

"You're getting sloppy, there's more scars on you." She responded.

"You try fighting eight Savage by yourself. Besides, I have a very reliable source saying the scars are sexy~." The Lord added a teasing tone at the end, and Charlotte cursed that her cheeks flushed the tiniest bit at the notion.

"Sounds like they're blind, you're looking more like a cadaver each day."

"Oh, want to make a second opinion on that?" Artorias continued to smirk, the woman about to shoot him down when a quiet yawn was heard across the room.

"Dad?" At the door was Artorias, five years old and incredibly tired. His cool blue eyes were half shut, as the kid rubbed one of his eyes before he yawned.

"Artorian, what are you doing up so late?" Artorias immediately went to his son's side, picking him up as the boy relaxed in his embrace.

"I heard shouting, I thought you were hurt and came to see if we were under attack."

"And you'd come to save your old man, I'm honored." Artorias chuckled, before turning and his smile fading at seeing Charlotte's awkward glance.

"You said he was going to be at the Kisaragis'." She responded, getting a disappointed stare from him.

"Matsuda, Hamaki and the kids are out of country, a double family vacation to the Zwei Islands apparently." Artorias explained. "Hokuto and Shizuka said they were busy too, and I'm not leaving him with Ryusei."

"Dad, who's she?" Artorian asked, looking to Charlotte who nearly recoiled at his stare.

"Well Artorian, that right there is Dr. Charlotte Dimandias. Head of Warslran's Research and Development and my handler of sorts." Artorias introduced, realizing they hadn't properly met since he grew from his incubation. "You know, she was also the woman who watched over your growth while I was busy on missions."

"Artorias!" Charlotte protested with a silent scowl, getting a simple roll of the eyes from the Lord that was twice her height.

"Really?" Artorian asked, getting a nod from his dad.

"Yep, she's an old friend of the family… the person I trust more than anyone else in this world." He admitted, giving a warm smile to her before a beep came from his pocket. He easily held his son with one arm as he checked his phone, looking disappointed at the request for his presence. "Looks like the Mikado needs me for something. Char, mind putting Artorian to bed?"

"Excuse you!?" Charlotte responded as if it was the most outlandish statement she's heard in her life, and that nearly got an insulted glare from the Lord.

"I'm asking you to just help him sleep, not dress him up and get him ready for the day." The Lord kept his composure, but placing Artorian down as he moved to the scientist. "Char, he's five years old already, and the only woman role model in his life is Hamaki."

"That wasn't part of the deal."

"Will you-!" Artorias caught himself before he lost composure again, calming himself before he continued. "I'm not asking you to be his mother. Just someone he knows he can trust. Can you do that? Just for tonight?"

Charlotte wanted to reject it, she avoided these house calls as much as possible solely because of the fact Artorian was here. But seeing the pleading stare of Artorias, and the downward glance from the young boy nearly had her buckle immediately. She didn't want to, but was she really cruel enough to just leave the house with a kid all by himself.

"…Fine, just be quick." She relented, getting a quiet thank you as Artorias clapped his hands together in gratefulness.

"Alright Artorian, daddy's going to be gone for a few hours, Char's going to bring you to bed. Be sure to be on your best behavior."

"Okay dad." Artorian nodded, watching as his father put his shirt back on before meticulously putting on his armor. With a wave the Lord was off, leaving the two alone before Charlotte turned to the boy.

"So, shall we go to your room?"

"Okay." Artorian said.

Charlotte took a few steps forward, before realizing the boy wasn't following as he looked down.

"You coming?" She asked.

"I'm scared of the dark." Artorian admitted, Charlotte groaning as she walked back to him.

"Of course you are." She said, grabbing one of the candles in the room. She was really wishing there was power back on. "Just stay close to me, okay?"

"Can you hold my hand?"

"Why would I… fine." Charlotte wanted to argue, but knew fighting with a kid was beneath her. Cautiously, she held her hand out before the boy took her hand gently. She then led him up the stairs, letting him guide her before they got to his room.

It was clearly awkward for Charlotte as she tucked Artorian in, the boy's gaze never leaving hers as she did so. But he followed along fine enough as she went to pick the candle back up. And that was when a question completely blindsided her.

"Do you hate me?"

Those four words caught Charlotte off guard far more than she expected them to. When she turned back to see Artorian, she sighed as she knew a curious kids stare when she saw one, and she instead sat down on his bed.

"No, why would I hate you? We only just met."

"You only came because you thought I was at Hayato and Karen's. And you didn't want to be left alone with me."

'Damn Lord enhanced hearing!' Charlotte cursed to herself.

"It's not that I hate you. I just… I'm not good with kids. I never have been." She admitted. "You're just… kids are just a lot of baggage that I don't ever feel ready for. I have a huge responsibility with the Savage threatening our existence. I can't have my attention drawn away too much from that job."

"Oh…" Artorian muttered, pulling his covers up to his face. He had no poker face, Charlotte could tell he didn't believe her, and to be fair she didn't have a good disguise either. She knew how to argue with people and especially put Lords in their place if they pushed too far.

Kids… kids she couldn't do.

"Anything else? A glass of water? A snack before bed?"

"…Can you sing a lullaby?"

"Really? A lullaby?"

"Dad sings old Lord ones, says they recount past glories."

"Of course." Charlotte sighed. "Well, I don't know any Lord ones, or many at all to be honest. But I have one my parents always sang to me." She looked to see Artorian look expectantly, a mix of shyness and eager anticipation as he poked his eyes over his covers. Knowing she couldn't get out of it, she let out a single breath before composing herself, knowing Artorias was going to owe her big time for this.

Twinkle, twinkle, little star, How I wonder what you are! Up above the world so high, Like a diamond in the sky. Twinkle, twinkle, little star, How I wonder what you are!

When the blazing sun is gone, When he nothing shines upon, Then you show your little light, Twinkle, twinkle, all the night. Twinkle, twinkle, little star, How I wonder what you are!

Then the traveller in the dark, Thanks you for your tiny spark, He could not see which way to go, If you did not twinkle so. Twinkle, twinkle, little star, How I wonder what you are!

In the dark blue sky you keep, And often through my curtains peep, For you never shut your eye, Till the sun is in the sky. Twinkle, twinkle, little star, How I wonder what you are!

As your bright and tiny spark, Lights the traveller in the dark,— Though I know not what you are, Twinkle, twinkle, little star. Twinkle, twinkle, little star, How I wonder what you are!

She was surprised at how she remembered the full song, as simple as it was. But when she turned to see Artorian, he was completely out, his steady breath being all there was to show he was alive in his still motion. A small smile crept on her face at seeing him sleep, and before she realized it, she gently pushed a strand of hair out from his face. It felt… good, in a strange sense.

A peaceful moment of silence, and the one time she ever met Artorian face to face while he was a kid.

"Where is he!?" Charlotte demanded, pushing through a crowd of soldiers and medics. It was the twilight hours of the Second Attack, and Yamato was confirmed clear of Savage. The chaos was sudden, overwhelming to anyone's predictions. What was worse was that it was her predictions that were wrong, and all she could think was how it was her fault.

"Ma'am, please calm down." One of the soldiers tried to reason with her. "We're still evacuating the bunker, and the scene at the intersection is causing-!" He was cut short as she grabbed his collar and pulled him down to eye level, her intense glare silencing him.

"I am Master Chief Artorias' handler, unless you have a rank worth a damn clear the way and let me treat him!" She barked, the soldiers that heard stopping in place at the information. There wasn't much arguing with Dr. Dimandias, Warslran's R&D genius wasn't one you could talk down.

Being careful to guide people aside, Charlotte pushed everyone aside as she saw the visage of Artorias' plume blow in the wind. She got to the front of the crowd, seeing the corpse of the final Trenta slain with the Lord before it. And the small child that was clinging to him desperately.

"DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD!" The desperate, scared, and destroyed cries of a young eight year old boy with silver hair pierced the heavens. Artorian clung to his father's corpse with tears pouring down his face. Slowly, drops of his father's bloods mixed with the tears, the boy appearing to cry blood as he wailed in despair. It was all he could do, the emotional turmoil of the day having broken down whatever remained of the innocence he once had.

The sight of the boy, holding onto Artorias' bloodied and mutated corpse, stunned Charlotte completely. She couldn't bring herself to move, her eyes focused solely on Artorias' body as it remained motionless. She was in shock, a part of her refusing to believe he was really dead. A part of her believed he would get up, reveal it in a sick joke that he was really fine. That not a drop of blood was his.

But he never moved.

On that day, Charlotte watched her closest friend, the man who had always seen the best in her, the man who showed her so many secrets and kept hers… was gone. Her whole body began to tremble as tears fell down her face. She didn't know what more to do, what could she even say?

It was all her fault. Her detection system showed the Savage landing at the northern coast of Yamato, how could she expect it to land at each major city? It was impossible, no one could-no! She should have been able to! She was the brightest of the generation, she invented the Century Armament! How could she not predict a simple atmosphere entry path!?

'How could I… be so worthless?' She thought, before her attention turned to Artorian, the boy losing his voice as he cried. His red hands and feet showed he had gone through hell during the invasion, and now his father wasn't even there to help comfort him. All he had suffered, everything he lost, and now he was alone.

And to her shame, she couldn't bring herself to approach him. Why would she? He was a kid she had no interest in looking after, and with this failure she had clearly fallen behind what was expected to be a breakthrough. She couldn't waste her time, she couldn't forgo humanity's survival just because of a kid she… for a kid she never wanted.

Slowly, Dr. Dimandias turned away from the weeping kid, unable to think further as her grief weighed her down with an insufferable weight.

"Dr. Dimandias, should we move the kid?" One of the soldiers asked.

"Give him time… he'll bounce back." She said offhandedly, uncertain if she meant Artorian or his father. A spark of denial was still in her mind as she rubbed her stomach, unconsciously fondling the old scar that was no longer there. And in that moment, she felt as weak as the night she had that surgery, under Souffle's knife and desperate to get the problem out before it would hamper her work.

Work.

That's right, she had to get to work. She couldn't waste any more time. Souffle and Vitaly needed her to help crunch out the failed simulations and find what went wrong. And perhaps she'd visit Claire and Liza, see how their compatibility with Century Armaments has improved. She couldn't waste any more time here. She had to get away, away from Artorias' corpse, away from the devastated boy's wallows.

Away from her past.

"My… my baby boy…" Charlotte choked out, tears pouring down her face as she desperately hugged the boy. Years of regret crashed down on her as the lost scar on her stomach ached in righteous retaliation. As if demanding her suffering for the long decade she had caused such pain to him.

"I'm sorry… I'm so, so sorry." She wept, her voice horse and pathetic, begging for forgiveness she never deserved and never would deserve. Everything came crashing down on her, after everything she lost, everything she pushed away, everything she ran from… none of that mattered more than the precious boy she selfishly refused to acknowledge.

"C…" A weak mutter came from Artorian, trembling body trying and failing to move as Charlotte held him, the only thing keeping him up now was the crying woman that clung desperately to him. His entire body was numb, as if surviving off the last calorie he had. But the warmth on him burned through whatever weakness he had, as he saw the lilac in his blurred vision.

"Char?"

"I'm here Artorian… I'm here…" She whispered, whimpers at each word as she trembled. "I'm here… I won't leave you, I promise. I'll never leave you again."

"You never… did." He said, and her whole body froze as he passed out.

Fresh clear water dripped on Charlotte's head. The few tears down Artorian's face as he smiled blissfully to the woman; no longer conscious as he took gentle breaths. A silent sleep, no different than the time when he fell asleep to her lullaby. A peace she didn't think was possible to him anymore.

And that was when she lost any remaining composure, and wailed in unrivaled relief, grief and pain as she clung to Artorian. Nothing would be able to pull the two apart, as she was too scared to let the boy ago. Afraid she'd lose him again, that she'd fail and lose the one family she still has. The child she shunned and rejected at the moment of his conception.

The son she couldn't live without anymore.

(A/N): Well, well well. This chapter was a long time coming. Over the course of several years, the climax of the arc comes to a close. With it, the time to move forward is upon me. Through the worst of it, a part of me thinks to how this was my biggest attempt at original content so far. I learned more than a few tricks, mistakes made early on and what I can improve on. With luck the next time I do an original arc I won't take two years. Of course a part of that was severe writer's block, but I've developed a new habit to hopefully make sure that never gets that bad again.

This arc's been a trial in its own right for me, and with hope it'll be the worst roadblock I've faced. Now I look to the future, ready to bring to life the rest of the story I had been cooking up in the midst of getting back to this story.

...Crap, I'm gonna need to reread a chunk of Hundred again and freshen up. But now that I'm done I can actually do that! I hope you all enjoyed this arc, this story means a lot to me and it means the world to me that I'm entertaining you; new readers and those that have been with this story since its inception. Through thick and thin, you being here has kept me invested and working on improving myself. And with luck, it'll see this story continue to develop and evolve. Thank you for all your support, and I'll see you in the next chapter.

Peace!