42
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
"You know, you should probably be resting."
I called out, wandering over to the figure leaning back against the railing with her arms crossed.
This particular balcony on the highest floor of the Assembly Hall afforded an excellent view of Tempest's evening sunset-tinged glow. Though she didn't seem to notice, as her eyes remained shut, and expression remained cool.
"Shuna might do something drastic if she finds out you're still here. Probably to me, thinking I made you work late."
"She'll be fine. Mary will distract her. Had something to talk to her about, I think." Tanya glanced at me then, and I met her eyes, amused.
A cold breeze drifted along the late winter air. Neither of us seemed bothered by it.
I settled against the railing to her and leaned forward to rest my elbows on the railing, looking over the city. My city, I suppose. Next to me, I noticed Tanya tilting her head back and closing her eyes. The chill lingered, probably, but latent warmth from midday was keeping it on edge.
"You and her, huh?" I asked, curious.
"Hm?"
"It's just... you and Shuna are really close now, aren't you?" I smiled then, not exactly sure how I felt about it beyond contentedness. They're my friends, after all. "Dating?"
"…I wonder? We haven't been to an aquarium yet…" She huffed out a handsome little laugh, then paused a bit in thought. "I won't deny that there is something… more. I'm not really sure. I'm not exactly… used to all of this."
I wasn't entirely sure what she meant, given our differing pasts, but I got the gist of it. Instead of commenting, I shrugged, and tried to lighten the atmosphere.
"Something more than bed partners, right?" Was my quip, and she laughed again, quiet.
"Would you know anything about that?"
"Hey." I wasn't offended, but still. "Low blow, blow below the belt. That means you're disqualified." We shared the amusement that time, a smile from her and a muffled giggle from me. "Don't be rude. You know that's not true."
"Do I? I suppose." Half-lidded, she side-eyed me. "You know, I'll show you rude if you want me too. But no, you're right. I apologize. You aren't some wet-behind-the-ears virgin. You're welcome."
"Sure." I rolled my eyes, and it was only my unique physiology that let me suppress a blush. It shouldn't even be possible for me to blush. "Seriously though, Tanya. How do you feel about her?"
"…feel, huh?" Abruptly, Tanya pushed off the railing and turned to face me. "Humor me for a bit, Rimuru."
I blinked, I think, and took a second to respond. "Of course."
"This might sound strange, but… imagine a fleet of boats. One fleet, however many that is, at a total of 10,000 people. Completely ordinary people. Civilians, families, salarymen and soldiers and knights and mages, hard workers and lazy workers all together. Just people. Residents of some place or another, and perhaps you know some or most of them. Or maybe you don't know any of them."
"Tanya, why-?"
"I know I'm rambling. Just listen." Tanya shook her head, a little oddly, and it's only then that I realize my joke earlier may hit closer to home than I thought, because she has dark circles under her eyes. "Okay? 10,000 ordinary people. The backbone of society, the citizens of a nation, and maybe they aren't good people. Or they're just good people in the wrong place at the wrong time. Either way, people. And then, on the other side is... one single boat, with one single person. One person who is important to you, in some way. A friend, maybe a one-time lover, or family member, or a mentor. In that situation, which would you save? The fleet, or the boat?"
And then, without waiting for me to respond, she says.
"You don't have to answer. It's a stupid question. The answer is obvious, right?"
The thing is… the answer is obvious. She's right. But…
Maybe she was worried about herself. I know she's not exactly used to caring. Maybe she was trying to reaffirm something or other. Anyone reasonable would choose the 10,000. The many over the few. The disparity is simply too great to let personal feelings get in the way.
But I can't be the one to do that.
You're right, Tanya. The answer is obvious.
To me. Even if it means killing 10,000 people to save 1, I've already made my choice.
All that's left now is to live with the consequences.
--
Afternoon
Prison Field Deployment Garrison #2
North of Tempest
"Do you think that grief saves you? Pain exempts from atrocity?"
Two days after the demise of Tanya, and one day after the vengeance of Mary and Shuna, Tempest's true counterattack begins in earnest.
As can only be expected, there is no mercy left to be found.
This is war.
"ENEMY ATTACK! ENEMY- gurck!"
From behind the Templar knight, Souka appears in a crouch, yanking her knife ungraciously from his severed spine. Without looking, she flips the bloody blade between her fingers and throws it over her shoulder.
Another knight finds their white robes splattered in blood, crimson pouring from their jugular.
Souka stands, glaring coldly at the remaining group of cloaked Falmuth church knights. She makes no move to approach them, however.
"This is bad. We're outmatched!" The apparent leader of the group sputters. "We need to retreat. Quickly, retreat to-"
It is the last order he ever gives, and unsuccessfully at that.
Nearly invisible threads of a steel-like material surrounded him and his compatriots, some 10 or so knights. All of them, in less than a second, are reduced to the byproduct of a blender.
Hovering ominously in the center of the camp, distance means nothing as the massive glowing crystal which represents one of the Prison Field's four corners is swiftly coated in red human remnants.
Souei drops down from the trees bordering the garrison, dismissing his Steel Threads into motes of blood-tinted magicules.
Souka falls to one knee, her thrown knife already cleaned and returned to it's hidden sheathe.
"My Kurayami have secured the perimeter." She says, staring up at him. "I'm sorry, Lord Souei. These opponents were far weaker than expected."
Souei nods, then approaches the Prison Field's crystal conduit. In a flash, his swords are in either hand, and in another, the crystal is shattered.
"That's one." He says, not bothering to let go of his deep frown. It's not the weakness of their enemies that upsets him, however.
Such a simple mistake, and look what happened. Never again.
If only he could have joined Mary and Shuna in their revenge. But alas.
"Contact the others about their progress."
"Yes sir!"
--
Prison Field Deployment Garrison #3
South of Tempest
"Ready the air defenses!" A younger looking fellow with an average build and haircut calls out frantically. "It's Lizardmen!"
"GUAHAHAHAHA! Fool! We are Dragonewts!" Alongside his men, Gabiru lands in the center of the camp, brandishing his trident with all the showmanship and aplomb everyone expects from him. All around, the various tents and equipment that make up the enemy camp is slowly being consumed by flames. "Hello, and goodbye! My name is Gabiru! No need to remember it."
He strikes.
His statement is undeniably accurate. Before long, there is no one left to remember anything at all, as the Dragonewts' fire washes away even the memories of the garrison. Along with yet another of the Prison Field's crystal conduits.
--
Prison Field Deployment Garrison #4
East of Tempest
Elsewhere, a team of one takes out his rage on the opposing forces. But the turmoil it not just of rage, or in his heart alone.
"It's fine, Benimaru."
"Th- they never told us about-"
"Even if you say so, Lord Rimuru, killing over 10,000 humans may be... I don't speak out of fear, but rather, concern. I am concerned this may leave permanent scars on your great heart."
"Tch." Benimaru disappears, then reappears behind the terrified Templar knight. He holds his katana out to the side, black flames flooding over the magisteel in violent waves. Behind him, a line of the same flame bisects the hapless knight, before engulfing him entirely.
"I know. I'm a monster, Benimaru. I understand the price I'm paying. And I don't know how I'll look her in the eyes after this is all over, but I don't care. This is my decision. 10,000 for 1. I'm fine with that."
The Kijin turns his attention to the floating crystal the knight had been guarding, and in a blink, performs the same action.
"And, my Lord, if by becoming a Demon Lord, you are no longer…"
Unaffected by the flames, Benimaru settles his katana along his shoulder, as the third of four crystals powering their foe's Prison Field shatters and melts.
"Benimaru. If after I become a Demon Lord, I am no longer myself- if I'm nothing but a mindless seeker of bloodshed and revenge, then I want you to gather up everyone who can fight… even Tanya, if you have to. And I want you to kill me."
"Now then…" He raises his voice, calling across the desolate and ruined encampment. "…is there anyone left struggling out there? I've been in a bad mood lately, and just so you know, if you make me search for you, it won't be pretty."
"…I understand. Then, to make sure, let's come up with a passphrase."
--
Prison Field Deployment Garrison #1
West of Tempest
"Oi. You smug bastard."
Shogo shoulders past one of the Templar knights manning the perimeter, unknowing or uncaring of the sour expression they give him. Hands behind his head, he sneers at his fellow Otherworlder.
"It's been a day already, Kyoya. You'd think they'd be chomping at it to get out, but nothing's happened except that old bastard getting spooked and leaving all hasty style. You don't think they're just gonna die by themselves, right?"
"Of course not, Shogo." Unseen inside his jacket's front pockets, Kyoya clenches his fists, nails digging into his palm enough to leave deep marks. "They'll come. If they know what's good for them, they'll come."
"Sheesh." Shogo clicks his tongue, rolling his eyes. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're more bloodthirsty than me right now. Must be that ugly ass scar you've got there."
True to Shogo's insult, Kyoya face is far from the calm perfection it had been mere days prior. Rather, the left side of his face now features a perfect white line of scar tissue carving straight up from jaw to hairline.
He opens his remaining good eye, glaring hatefully at the other. The effect is only amplified by dark glow of his Extra Skill, All-Seeing Eye – which he'd been making thorough use of since his embarrassing defeat – and the alight runes along his sword, currently held in a white-knuckled reverse grip.
Otherwise, his appearance mimics that of his fellow. Black pants and an unbuttoned button-up jacket, only differentiated by the clothing underneath. For him, it is a black turtleneck, and for Shogo, a white shirt with a black stripe around the midsection.
"If you wish to see the coming action from the medical tent, feel free to insult me further."
That Shogo would be doing so missing a limb or several goes without saying.
"Yeah yeah." Shogo waves him off, though not before taking a few steps back. Confident as he is in his own power, he's not exactly in the mood to test himself against someone with such a grudge. Grumbling to himself, he walks away. "Guess we'll just wait some more. Haven't heard from the others yet, so not much else to do anyway… can't even banter anymore, not with buzzkill over there and Kirara just fucking off somewhere…"
That was another problem. Upon tactically retreating, as it were, the Falmuth Otherworlder trio found themselves down a number. Whether she'd been killed or captured, neither of them knew. But it's not like their handlers cared, nor did he all that much. Her Skill hadn't even worked, and without that she might as well be dead weight.
But still… at least she was fun to talk with.
Oh well. That just leaves more for him to kill himself. Maybe there'd be enough to literally bathe in the blood next time. The closest he'd gotten to that was during his summoning, and his mind had been a bit too preoccupied at the time to properly savor the moment.
Damn. Now he's reminiscing. Here he is, dead bored waiting for something, anything to happen-
Thump.
There's something interesting. It's the sound of some has-been Templar knight's body hitting the ground behind him.
"C- CAPTAIN!!"
Guess it was the captain. Too bad.
Shogo smirks, turning and walking back to the end of the small cliff overlooking Tempest's outward road that their camp is stationed on.
"Looks like they're here, huh?"
All around him, the garrison camp bursts to life.
"Enemy attack! Ranged attackers from the east!"
"Form up! Magic squadron, activate enchantments! Strengthen our frontline!"
"Front scout, quickly! What's the enemy's status!"
It's only this last yell that Shogo pays any attention to. He darts over, appearing next to the telescope-bearing, horse-riding scout in a blur.
"Confirmed!" The scout yells to all. "Enemies approaching from the east! Their numbers are- what?"
Soon enough, Shogo's sharp eyes widen, as if in confirmation of the scout's next exclamation.
"They number only… four?!"
Down below, the stone-faced foursome approaches the inclined roadside.
"This is a declaration of war." Atop his companion tempest wolf, Gobta's expression can only be described as thunderous. He lowers his smoking sheath, dismissing the remnants of black flame inside. The quick snipe of their foes' captain had only been a warning shot, after all.
Adorned in similar furred gear as their normal wear, Rigur pulls up beside him riding his own wolf. The other two with him, Geld and Hakurou, walk at a calm pace that does not match the darkness in their eyes. The former tightens his grip on the massive magisteel cleaver and shield in either hand, and the latter simply leaves his weaponless hands at his sides, black fingernails glinting.
None of them, it seems, are in a good mood. With good reason.
Say it again. There is no mercy left to be found.
Tempest's counterattack only begins here. The vanguard before apocalypse, before the Awakening yet to come.
Their opponents, pathetically, have not realized they are already dead. They still make a passing effort at breathing in the last air of their last day.
"Alright!" This is shouted, and in the same instant, Shogo leaps down the cliff to meet them.
Right as Gobta and Rigur rush up the cliffs around him, ignoring him entirely.
The Otherworlder ignores them right back, even as Gobta calls, "Geld! That's the one who nearly got Shion!"
"Understood." Geld says to himself, standing like a pillar in the center of the road. Beside him, Hakurou chuckles.
"I'll leave him to you." The old Kijin disappears in a blink, likely following after Gobta and Rigur.
Geld nods, his response once more known only to himself. As Shogo lands a short distance away, he stabs his cleaver into the road and reaches up, adjusting his helmet and one of the straps of his nearly full body armor. Then, he grabs his cleaver's handle and hefts it once more.
"It seems that I shall be the one to put you down."
"Heh." Shogo smirks, clenching his hands into fists. "Tough luck with that."
-
"So. You're still alive, ghoul."
"Hohoho. I do think that's my line." Hakurou closes his eyes and smiles. "It seems one of my apprentices left quite the mark on you."
Kyoya's jaw tightens, tugging slightly at the aforementioned mark. His good eye glows a sinister hue, and his muscles tense, the runes along his reverse-grip held sword flickering at intermittent intervals.
"You should have stayed home old man."
"Oh? Genial I may appear, but-"
Kyoya blurs from normal sight, stabbing through Hakurou's skull-
Or at least, he would if Hakurou were still there.
"Huh?" His good eye widens.
"-I do, in fact, hate losing."
The voice comes from well behind him. Kyoya turns in disbelief, and the feeling only multiplies as the old Kijin pays no further attention to him, instead looking around before entering a seemingly random tent.
"…huh?"
Hakurou exits the tent – actually, it's not a random tent Kyoya's mind helpfully supplies, connecting it with a certain someone – a moment later, holding-
Huh???
"You see, my original blade is still buried in the rubble somewhere, and there just hasn't been the time to find it." Hakurou hefts the pitch-black blade and rests it over one shoulder, the silver-wrapped handle and cross guard practically glimmering under the sunlight. "The weight and length are a bit more than I'm used to, but those concerns are unnecessary against such a second-rate opponent."
That snaps Kyoya from his bemusement, just enough for him to finally notice something different about the old man.
In the middle of Hakurou's forehead, the skin has split vertically, revealing a glowing third eye.
"Oh?" Hakurou notices him looking. "Are you curious? This is my own Heavenly Eye. Perhaps, give or take 900 years, you could advance to this level. Even a second-rate novice such as yourself might be able to do so… triple the time it took me, as I said."
Kyoya Tachibana is the most dangerous of his Otherworlder companions. Or at least, this is what he thinks.
The Unique Skill, Severer, which creates blades of the Spatial attribute that can be swapped with his ordinary sword, and thus prevents wounds inflicted by Kyoya from healing by ordinary means. The Extra Skill, All-Seeing Eye, which enhances one's vision to all around them and forces an instinctive reaction time well-beyond human levels. And finally, the Extra Skill, Thought Acceleration, which can increase the speed of his thought processes up to 300 times faster than normal.
This, combined with his own personal training and a slightly above average intelligence, makes Hakurou's words all the more insulting.
Second-rate…? You're just like her! That's right, the one who gave me this scar… your apprentice, huh? Then I'll show you right now! I'll show the both of you!
Kyoya says nothing before he charges, attacking with everything in him. All three of his Skills are operating at max capacity, and a dark blue miasmic glow surrounds him and his sword, leaving thick magical residue in the air with each slash.
I'll become the greatest swordman in this world! Me! Every waking moment since she marked me, I've image trained with Thought Acceleration, studied my own energy with All-Seeing Eye. In mere days, I'll be unstoppable! In fact, perhaps I should thank you!
Hakurou ducks once, dodges back, sidesteps. His expression never shifts.
I've thought too much about that defeat. I'm different now! If I were to go all out, I know for a fact that I could surpass even that arrogant bitch, Hinata Sakaguchi-!!!
"It's over."
Of course, it's a simple fact. His Skills, enhancing as they may be, are nothing compared to someone with much greater skill or much greater power. Tanya, fitting the latter, gave him a scar and removed him from battle. Hakurou, fitting the former, strikes similarly.
Hakurou steps past him, feinting low at a pace Kyoya can catch. All-Seeing Eye forces him to react, and then-
A blur of black magisteel that All-Seeing Eye and Thought Acceleration together can't even make out.
The same story. It's inevitable for a style and skillset that is fundamentally weak to feints and power gaps.
"Huh?" Kyoya's good eye widens. All sensation below his neck simply… disappears.
Too bad. Such a short period of time makes it impossible for this individual to change in any meaningful way. He should have spent the time since their attack repenting for his actions.
"The only reason you caught me before was because of shock. Nothing more." Hakurou reaches out with his free hand, catching Kyoya's severed head by the hair. "All me to give you some advice. Someone who relies on Skills alone will never make it in this world."
Skills…? What? Kyoya's headless body falls to the dirt. Thought Acceleration… isn't wearing off?
"You attack not in defense, but in order to hurt. You believe in power and ability overall. Well, unfortunately for you, your power and ability are lacking. My apprentices surpassed your paltry ability in mere weeks."
It… hurts…!!!
Hakurou calmly meets Kyoya's tortured gaze. This is the end.
"You have talent. And yet, I spoke the truth: you were less than second-rate. What does that say about your life, young man? With the time you have left, contemplate this fact and beg for a forgiveness that will not come."
-
BOOM!
Shogo jumps back, a shield bash from Geld crushing the ground where he'd just been. Neither fighter appears tired; rather, this battle is just beginning.
It should be, but one of them is unaware of the truth. This battle was over days ago.
"Damn!" He spits off to the side, shaking out his hands. "The hell is that thing made of…?"
Across from him, Geld hefts his spade-shaped shield, one of several forged from the leftover scales of Charybdis. He remains still.
"Oi! Pig-face! Ain't you ashamed of using something like that!"
Geld says nothing for a moment. "What?"
"I'm over here working my ass off with just my fists, meanwhile you're cowering behind that shield and armor! If you're a real warrior, fight me on my own turf!"
"…why would I do that? This is war. A true warrior fights with everything they have available. Are you a child?"
"Hah?" Shogo loads his weight on his back leg. "Here I am asking you to play fair, and now you're insulting me? Forget it! I'll show you what I mean personally!"
His aura explodes from deep within him. Now, he activates his own Unique Skill, Berserker. Simply put, it grants the user power and durability, alongside granting a certain level of energy absorption upon defeating a foe. It is an excellent companion to accompany such a bloodthirsty nature.
Shogo lunges, blurring across the pavement and slamming his foot into Geld's shield.
"By the way!" He yells over the shockwave of the impact, before spinning and kicking again. "I was just kidding!"
Geld crouches, his boots digging into the road from the back-to-back force. Then, he shoves the other back, right as his shield shatters and falls away.
Shogo lands a few feet away once more, then stands up straight. "Heh. I was just hoping you'd throw away that shield willingly, but I'm not against shattering it myself."
"…I see. It's not that you were acting childishly because you are a child, but instead you intended for me to lower my guard. A simple trick, yet effective against the correct opponent."
"And you fell for it, hook line and sinker!" Shogo smirks, holding his arms out to either side.
"Not so."
"Huh?"
"You misunderstand. I am not the correct opponent for such a trick." Geld stands up straight and, hefting his cleaver in his right hand, points at Shogo. "Indeed, you are the one in this scenario who has been tricked."
"The hell are you- GAH!" Shogo collapses to one knee. With shaking hands, he peels back the sleeves of his jacket, revealing the disgusting, painful truth underneath.
"Corrosion, or perhaps here we may refer to here it as Rot." A sub-skill of his own Unique Skill, Gourmet, which Geld received upon being named after his predecessor, aka the Orc Lord turned Demon Lord Seed Orc Disaster. "Your physical power is indeed noteworthy, but nothing I have not seen in a human before. And, unlike her, it seems you lack any resistances or immunities. An unfortunate weakness against one such as me."
Down on both knees now, Shogo vomits. The skin of his arms falls away in green-tinted flakes, revealing the muscles fibers underneath. Underneath his pants, the same occurs to his legs.
"The areas you struck me with will go most quickly. A shame. If you had gone for a headbutt, perhaps your suffering would end quicker."
"Y- you bastard!!" Shogo glares up at him, sweat pouring down his face and blood splotching the road. "Cheating, pig-faced-"
"Are you not done yet, Geld?"
Hakurou lands at Geld's side, having hopped down from short cliff next to them. Before Geld can answer him, however, Shogo does.
"Y- you! Geezer, where the hell is that smug-faced bastard?!"
"Hoh?" Hakurou turns, revealing the oddly shaped object in hand that his body had been concealing. "If you mean your friend, then I have him right here."
He tosses the odd object Shogo's way.
It rolls to a stop. Shogo looks.
"I-"
More and more, blood trickles down, staining the ground.
Kyoya's lifeless head meets his gaze.
No… no, this can't…
In another timeline, Shogo would scramble to his feet, escape back into the camp, and recover. Through desperate, despicable means, he would receive the ailment to his wounds via the Unique Skill, Survivor.
In this timeline, he has no opportunity to kill his fellow Otherworlder, Kirara Mizutani, and thus acquire such a Skill. For you see, Kirara never returned to camp.
"Please… someone, please… save me…"
Thump. Thump. Thump.
A deep shadow is cast over the cowering Otherworlder.
"I have no desire to torture you." Looming, Geld raises his cleaver. "I relieve you of your pain."
"No… no!" Shogo looks up, desperate. His right arm begins to fall off at the elbow, revealing bone under rotting flesh. "No, please! PLEASE, SOMEONE SAVE-!!"
CRASH!
"-ME… huh?"
"Are you the only one left, Shogo?"
Next to Shogo's kneeling form stands someone who could only be called a sorcerer. Old and wrinkled, with swept back short grey hair, Falmuth's Chief Sorcerer Razen extends his staff, blocking Geld's block with a wall of crackling magical energy.
Geld backs away, Hakurou steps forward next to him, the recovered sword Seizon ready at his side.
"Ra- razen…" Shogo's breath hitches, the rot visible underneath his shirt collar. "You saved me…"
"Of course, Shogo. You are an important asset to- oh." This last part is stated as Shogo collapses, the majority of his right arm fully rotting away. His left is in nearly the same state, Razen notes with a raised eyebrow.
With a casual gesture of his staff, the rot along Shogo's body fades, but doesn't disappear. His eyebrow rises higher. Razen gestures again, this time putting much more power into his Restoration Magic.
"…his body is an important asset to Falmuth." Razen says, looking over Geld and Hakurou with a new light, literally, to his eyes. Shogo collapses wordlessly beside him, healed and yet missing an arm. "I see. It seems our intelligence vastly underestimated the strength of you monsters. First, a humanoid type managing to repel the majority of our ambush, and now a Kijin and an Orc Lord… I can see now that, in this specific circumstance, we are outmatched. Shogo and I will retreat for now."
Geld makes to rush forward. "I won't let you-"
"GELD, STOP!"
Hakurou yells out just in time. Geld yanks himself to a halt, and the ground in front of them explodes. Armored forearms crossed in front of his face, Geld skids backward just enough to end up right back where he started, next to Hakurou.
"Kekekeke!" As the dust clears, the two of them can see Razen grinning. "You're sharp for one so old. That experience makes you rather dangerous, wouldn't you say?"
"That's insulting coming from a decrepit geezer like yourself." The third eye in Hakurou's forehead glimmers. Lowering his voice, he tells Geld, "A trap spell layered underneath his barrier from earlier. And he's rigged himself to blow up with Nuclear Magic, so there's no point in engaging further."
"Understood."
"Well now, what are you whispering over there!" Razen shakes his head, amused. "No matter. As I said, Shogo and I will be retreating now. Assuming you don't die of old age, feel free to meet me again on the upcoming battlefield-"
"This will be our only meeting." Hakurou interjects, resting Seizon's blade against his shoulder. "The place you're heading to will be little more than a graveyard soon. Our Lord will meet you there personally."
"What a dour bluff. I'm afraid you're grasping for straws, aren't you?"
"It is no bluff." Geld responds. He too relaxes his stance. "You have made a terrible mistake taking one of our own. You have enraged individuals who should never be enraged. You may only pray our Lord ends your suffering quickly."
"Indeed." Hakurou chuckles, imagining for a second Shuna and Mary meeting this man and his pet Otherworlder. "I imagine, even if you could somehow survive our Lord, that you would soon wish to have died anyway."
Razen looks pensive for all of a second. Then, he shrugs it off.
"Your confidence is impressive, if unfounded. But I will take your warning into consideration anyway." He taps the ground with the end of his staff, a purplish black swirl overtaking him and Shogo. "Farewell!"
The duo vanishes, unknowingly teleporting directly to their own doom.
Hakurou shrugs, then turns to face the cliffside sporting their enemy's camp.
"They are fools." Geld says, echoing the other's thoughts.
"Indeed, but they are out of our hands now."
Atop the cliff and atop their tempest wolves, Gobta and Rigur reappear covered in blood.
Not their own blood, needless to say.
"The crystal's been destroyed!" Gobta yells.
Hakurou and Geld nod.
Their job is over now. All that's left now is for the main show to begin.
--
Over Tempest were three barriers.
One of which was an Anti-Magic Area cast by Mjurran on the orders of the Demon Lord Clayman. Its effects have been well documented thus far. The second barrier, meanwhile, was the Prison Field deployed by Falmuth's Templar knights. A Holy Magic field using four crystal conduits stationed at each cardinal direction as a foundation, it was designed to weaken magical beings via Holy energy.
It is worth noting for future reference that "Holy" and "Divine" energy are two separate things.
In any case, with the four crystal conduits destroyed, the Prison Field over Tempest has now fallen. And, at the same time as it falls, another barrier replaces it inside of Mjurran's Anti-Magic Area.
This is the rough order of events:
After hearing Eren's tale, Rimuru casts a barrier of his own over Tempest, beyond the Anti-Magic Area but underneath the Prison Field -> Shuna delivers her ultimatum -> Rimuru offers to watch over Tanya's body, with "his own life, if need be" -> Mary and Shuna track down and defeat Drake -> The counterattack against Falmuth's forces is planned in full -> Four teams are sent out to destroy the Prison Field weakening everyone inside Tempest -> Mjurran and Shuna take control and bolster the power of Anti-Magic Area and Rimuru's barrier respectively, with Mary, Eren, Gido, Kabal, Youm, and Grucius acting as guards -> the current event right now, being Rimuru's own counterattack.
And, following that, his ascension to True Demon Lord.
I don't know if this world has gods. In two years, it's never really crossed my mind.
Over hills and between the sparse trees designating the edge of the Great Forest of Jura, a sprawling encampment bustles with activity. Groups of tents of similar sizes stand together at various points, with a great number of armored soldiers and robed mages walking between them.
Like ants.
10,000 against 1. If I'm going to do this, I'm killing more than 10,000 people… no, that's wrong. It's actually just over 20,000. I'll be killing double what I need.
In the sky above, convex half-spheres of water form from nothing. One after another, they blip into existence, until they number too many to count.
With or without gods, killing that many people… you'd almost have to call it divine retribution. Ha. The wrath of God? What right do I have to claim that? What right do they have to attack in the first place?
Rimuru stares at the inside of his mask, formerly Shizu's. Idly, he tilts his head, listening as Great Sage continues to calculate in the background.
In lieu of any gods, I'll take their place right here and now.
Great Sage finishes her calculations. The half-spheres of water fill the sky above him.
Let's see… these guys, they believe in the God Luminous right? But in Jura, the highest authority probably falls to Veldora, as the Storm Dragon. Therefore...
He places the mask over his face. The half-spheres drip, spherical droplets falling to float amidst the camp itself. More droplets form and remain hovering underneath the convex constructs.
...feel free to direct any prayers for mercy to me. So I know who to kill first.
"At the very least," Rimuru raises his hand high, fingers outstretched wide like a claw ready to carve. Down below, the expanse of soldiers and tents appears naught but ants and ant hills to crush underneath his feet. "You all should feel honored to have a part in my evolution."
A short pause, as if reflecting. It is the recognition that everything will change.
He bends, slashing his hand violently down.
"MEGIDDO!"
-Z-
Afternoon
Kruskos Army Air Corps Testing Lab
Germanian Empire
"That should be the… second to last one."
Wiping the sweat away from her forehead, Tanya steps back from the newly decorated desk, slotting a combat knife into her belt.
According to Visha, this office space was primarily used by- well, used by the 203rd, during the early stages of the project. The warehouse the office is inside of also served as sortie point for drills and announcements, with a large opening on one end leading out to the numerous flight-testing fields.
"You planned for five of… these?" Visha can't help but tilt her head looking at the dizzying array of interlocking circles, numbers, and symbols. To her, lacking any knowledge of the subject, Tanya might as well have spent the past hour and a half drawing a demonic summoning circle. That, or a faux language from a fantasy book of some kind.
"I planned for seven of them, for symbolic reasons. But the energy requirement to establish them atop an unfamiliar 4th dimension and suitably cloak them from a certain overseer's sight, atop of my own physio-spiritual problems… I'm settling for five."
Tanya crouches back down, opening one of the desk's drawers and rifling through it. As a result, she doesn't notice Visha jerkily, almost unwillingly, raising a hand and brushing her fingers over the top of the desk.
"Adjusting for mana instead of magicules is trouble, too, and not to mention after all of that and settling for less than is ideal, it's a serious stretch of my improvisational- ah, there we go."
She pulls out a pair of full-to-burst manila folders. One in each hand, Tanya stands and tilts them until the papers inside fall across the desk in a disorganized array, covering the far more organized runic array carved into the desk's surface.
At Visha's questioning look, Tanya shrugs.
"They'll be useless to anyone that isn't me. Still, just in case." She drops the folders back in the sectioned drawer and slides it shut with her booted foot, before beginning to make her way around to Visha's side of the desk. "The papers should catch fire. Which sucks for whoever works here, but- whoa."
Despite not having activated the runes and expended any extra energy, Tanya stumbles.
Suddenly, Visha is there, grabbing hold of her shoulders and keeping her upright.
"Tanya? You okay?" There's a deeper urgency to that question than the words alone imply.
Her concern is admirable, and more than a bit heartwarming, but Tanya's too busy keeping down her lunch from the sudden bout of mind-body-soul dissonance-induced nausea.
"Tanya?"
"I can't do much more." Tanya takes a steadying breath and rights herself. "I- we can't wait. Let's move."
There's not much talk between them as they leave the office for the warehouse, locking the door behind them. The walk through the warehouse itself to the outside is similar.
Visha, perhaps, lingers a bit closer to Tanya than before. Out of a renewed concern of her collapsing, of her disappearing, or both, she won't admit. And Tanya doesn't mind or speak against it, even if she finds it disagreeable to be perceived with the descriptor "fragile".
After their little – embarrassing as the phrase is – "heart-to-heart" earlier, Tanya moved up the timeline for her plans. Visha explained as much as she could, and none of it was good to hear.
There's no point staying here anymore.
Hence her current actions, the full explanation of which would go over the heads of most, relying on an extensive knowledge of several different systems of magic.
But for now, she'd told Visha to imagine the intent of what she is constructing in terms of a dual accumulator-discharger type array. Additionally, it should be understood that there is a certain element of location involved in the process.
Xerxes could never claim a spot on Tanya's list of favorite locations, but it certainly paid for its sins several times over by now purely through its lingering usefulness. A much more expansive knowledge of this somewhat ritualistic stye of magic is one such example, feeding the ability to know where and how to set up this gamble in the first place.
The point is that location matters. As do numbers, and the symbolism behind the actions being performed, and the energy underlying the entire system… just in case you were wondering exactly how many factors Tanya has to consider on top of every other difficult surrounding her current plan of action, aka wagering her own plans against those of the local deity himself.
No pressure.
"The last one is the most important." Tanya says, breathing in and out at an even, measured pace. There's a faint buzzing in the back of her mind, an instinctual warning or fear that something is wrong. Which, naturally, she pays the required amount of attention to with experienced ease.
Yeah, okay, everything is wrong; she already knows that. "Where I arrived."
"And where you'll… leave?" There's an odd pause in there, with a decidedly strange tone.
"Yes. You know the truth as well as, maybe better than I do. There's nothing left for me here."
Straight to the point, and not hiding her intention. That's something worth appreciating, even if the truth may be brutal.
Visha looks to the side, not acknowledging the flare of hurt and something else in her chest.
It's not like she hadn't suspected it. Tanya hadn't explained everything, but she'd implied enough. This experience, this reunion, it was only ever temporary.
She knew that. They always separate at the end. There's no such thing as a perfect reunion.
"And, if all goes well, where you will as well."
"Huh?" Visha blinks. She lifts her head to face her former superior, eyes wide as they take in a familiar half-smile. Something dark lurks under her bemusement. "Where I'll…?"
"I'm not sure if I should be insulted or not. Yes, where you'll leave as well." Tanya rolls her eyes, then bumps their shoulders together. "It's not a guarantee by any means. You understand? I can't promise it. I'm gambling enough with my own soul here. But honestly, after everything you told me, did you really think I'd be willing to leave you behind?"
"I- no, of course not, but I-"
Visha would admit it all right here, if her internal landscape were anything less than a great turmoil. There's a sinking weight in her gut, a sickening bile burning in the back of her throat.
Grantz, Neumann, Koenig, Weiss, Zettour… for some stupid reason, she'd thought that telling Tanya about them would somehow dissuade her former superior. That Tanya would act with the callousness she was always capable and fond of, and prioritize herself.
No, Visha hadn't just thought that; she'd hoped it would be enough.
Because Tanya was righter than she could possibly know. There's truly nothing left for her here.
It's too late. No matter what happens, you have to be the one to survive.
If Tanya knew about what happened to them, and about what happened to General Zettour, she'd make the most logical decision. Dammit, can't you see what HE has done to us, to me?
Can you not see it?! Can't you see what he'll do to you, too?
But this goes beyond survival or self-preservation. This is enemy action, intentional aggression; against an opponent they have no possible chance against, this is, for all intents and purposes, a declaration of war against a deity-
"Visha." Tanya gives her a look. The aforementioned woman's mouth snaps shut, her pessimistic line of thought drying up. Just like that. As if there's a chance of anything else.
And, despite herself, despite her fear, Visha smiles. Because she recognizes that look. It's something she and her comrades recounted fondly among one another many a time, because they knew.
They knew, whenever Tanya von Degurechaff got that look in her eye…
"Do you trust me?"
"With my life." Is the immediate answer. Even after all this time, after everything that's happened.
Tanya smiles, and looks forward.
"Good."
It isn't.
Oh god… Visha's smile falters.
She only hopes Tanya will forgive her for being so weak.
-
It is, Tanya acknowledges, incredibly unsurprising that the situation turned out this way.
Countless knowns and unknowns colliding in one place at one point in time, creating a clusterfuck conflagration of a situation that no one knows the outcome to.
Visha told her about the others. Tanya knows what happened.
If circumstances were different, she'd allow herself to mourn them. But the truth is, she'd already grieved over never seeing them again, and if there's anything she's good at, it's suppressing her emotional impulses in favor of a rational, untainted perspective.
Right now, that is what's most important: keeping her logical side at the forefront. She can't afford to get bogged down here. Even if she's understandably, shall we say, rather cross with Being X right now.
She'd always known Being X was a vindictive bastard. But even then, something as petty as vindication or revenge simply cannot be the reason behind his actions. Perhaps there were ill-feelings involved, stemming from her, but Tanya knows him. She knows how he likes to operate.
It's simple to assume that Grantz, Neumann, Koenig, and Weiss were simply causalities of a cruel god. It's easy to connect their deaths with her own, with her however unintentional "escape".
However, it's never just "simple" or "easy" with Being X. There's a greater intent here, some other goal he wants to accomplish. He probably has multiple different plans at once, in fact.
They key to this situation, Tanya thinks, is in what he's also done to General Zettour. From Visha's descriptions, he seems to have been consumed in a similar manner to how Mary Sue was once consumed.
It's not too difficult to imagine Zettour giving in willingly, all things considered.
The sensation around him, once he'd changed, Visha described it as a sort of leeching, sticky, instinct-scaring pressure. A heavy presence that fits a space greater than that of the person representing it. Uncharacteristic impulses that match an irrational, inhuman intent, and, most notably, exuding a strange power that can be felt on a subconscious level.
Yeah. Familiar.
There's a few reasons Tanya can think of as to why Being X would drop to this level.
If his intent is to spread faith, then taking control of a prominent figure in the Imperial military could certainly feed into that. After all, he'd attempted to use her for the same purpose, and quite successfully at that, much to her own irritation. If he wants to create faith through war, then it wouldn't be difficult to start another one with the right pieces.
But that doesn't seem correct. It doesn't quite fit into the puzzle she's quickly piecing together.
If it were as simple as starting another war, then why hadn't he done so already? It's not like the political landscape of the Eurasian continents is exceptionally stable. And why resort to mortals in the first place? Habit? Necessity?
Maybe it's not just that she's missing pieces. Maybe Being X was, or is, also missing key pieces.
…herself?
It's possible that the term "Star" has a greater cosmological context than she is aware of. She'd already theorized a bit, but something she'd not considered before is if deities have culture. Do they have their own history? Is it even "them"?
There must be some wider meaning she's simply not privy to, being mortal herself.
How does a star relate to a deity? Or, how do they differ?
If all goes well, of course, none of this will matter. But it would be a mistake to assume that anything can ever go well when Being X is involved.
"It's this one." Visha tells her, pulling out a key from her uniform's front pocket and unlocking the door. Her hand spasms a bit, turning the key, but hidden by her body, the motion remains uncommented on. "I've… snuck in this way before."
Tanya sidles past her, taking in the immediate wall of what can only be called Germanian engineering at its finest, aka a bunch of technology that seems ahead of its time, but only because no one else was insane of enough to try and shove some many experimental parts and pieces into one.
Shuffling sideways until she finds a bigger gap, Tanya makes her way through the technological jungle that is the interior of this warehouse. By appearances, no one has been inside for the past several days.
Likely since her arrival.
I wonder, have they named it as an incident of some kind, or as a "successful experiment"?
She travels through the gap she found, a space between towers of interconnected mechanical structures and underneath orderly and silent piping. Visha follows behind her, and though it's not worth admitting, the utter silence of the warehouse at large is somewhat disconcerting.
Tanya ducks under a dangling cable, wary of getting shocked, and steps over a displaced gear in that was apparently forgotten about in the aisle. By now, she's recognized that general layout of the structures and equipment, that being an odd spiral shape. The aisle itself curls in toward the center of the warehouse, like being drawn toward the eye of a storm.
The part of her brain attuned to rituals and runes and the like can't help but notice a possible symbolic reason for this. Another part of her brain points to how it's a bit strange to be leading in this situation, rather than being led.
After all, she's never been here before.
But she recognizes it by sight, regardless.
There's an open space in the center of the warehouse, connected by a corridor to the closed hangar doors. Another curved aisle can be seen on the opposite side of the open space, leading off presumably to the ceiling-to-floor box of walls breaking away from the warehouse itself, that can be seen over the tops of the mechanical shelves and pipes and gears and whatnot.
Near the top of those walls are a series of small windows. That area, then, is likely a space that was converted into an observation bay and/or a control center.
More attention-grabbing, however, is what dominates the open space of the warehouse, rather than the far corner. That which she recognizes somehow, is the large upright ring atop a metallic dais. Wires and pipes stretch out from the dais and the ring itself, connecting to the towering structures filling the majority of the warehouse's space.
It's a portal type device. By her assumption, this is what's responsible for those space-time anomalies that had so vexed Souei and her.
If she had to guess, it's likely that hers and Mary Sue's death left a hole or rip or tunnel of some sort, and this device, and with Being X's assistance in some form, latched on to the remnants her magical signature wherever it happened to bleed through. The main case and point being where she'd first arrived in that World.
Then, when she died, Being X was able to find her… though, there's space between those two occurrences that still seems odd to her. It wasn't just that she'd died. Again, there's her being a "Star" to consider. There's also something significant about the number, "a third Death".
And speaking of which, that other deity, they'd done something. She'd have to look into them at a later date. Whether out of wary, tentative thanks – hey, if they'd helped, far be it for her to be ungrateful, even to a deity – or as preparation for someone else trying to fuck her over.
Her work is never done, truly.
"Where are the controls?"
"There's a glass-covered panel on the side, you can't see it from the front." Visha breaks her silence finally, something warring within her violent enough to bleed into her expression. Seemingly coming to a decision, she grabs Tanya's shoulder. "But Tanya, I need to-"
As if against her command, Visha's mouth snaps closed, cutting herself off. The look in her eyes can only be described as panic, and for good reason.
"Well now, what do we have here?" A new, yet familiar, voice echoes through the open space.
Visha inhales sharply through her nose, and Tanya glances back at her, noting how her expression has frozen.
It's not just panic. It's fear, no doubt about it.
Tanya faces the direction of the familiar, masculine, aged voice that bears a striking similarity to Hakurou's.
And, as expected, Hans von Zettour exits the aisle on the opposite side of the open space, hands clasped leisurely behind his back. He is accompanied by no one other than himself as he walks closer to them, looking for all the world as though he has naught a care about him.
I couldn't even tell he was here… is that my fault, or is he…?
"It's been a very long time since we last met, Colonel."
"I died, General. I think that relieves me of my title."
"You died, and yet here you are. Back from the dead." He tilts his head, stopping a few meters away. "How interesting… tell me, Tanya: do you believe in God?"
The last word is spoken in a hushed, oddly tinted tone of voice. One she is unfortunately familiar with. There's something to it… the fervor of insanity guised in the form of true gospel.
To give credit to whatever is wearing the face of her former superior, he wears the fervor well. The features of the original man are, in fact, well suited to such a thing. Even if gospel now is substituting war.
But still. She knew Schugel better than most. That fervor is fake.
"What have you done with him?"
How much is left of Hans von Zettour, if at all?
"Now, Colonel, calm yourself and use your words more clearly. I'm not quite sure what you mean-"
"Don't fuck with me!" Tanya snaps, taking a harsh step forward that has no visible effect on this Faux-Zettour. "It's always the same with you, but I'm tired of playing these games, Being X. We're too far past pretending at this point, so tell me what happened to the man you're parading around like a puppet on your strings."
There's a short pause in which he digests her words. The look on his face is not quite shock, but more like… right, that's it. It's amusement that stretches that stolen face.
"And here I thought you would deny, deny, deny, for as long as possible. But you…" Faux-Zettour chuckles, then laughs, head thrown back as the sound echoes unnaturally. It's as though he's unused to laughing.
Or, unused to human emotion, more likely. An interesting observation.
Behind her, Visha shifts nervously. Tanya stares ahead with a glowing gaze.
"…you have a rather intriguing tendency to surprise me, Tanya." His laughter bleeds away, and he meets her glare with a smirking one of his own. "And to think, I intended to play along. I forged an entire scenario with which to play around you, my own plan to drag you into your proper place, and yet you don't even want to play anymore? If my effort in acquiring this form were wasted, I might honestly be upset."
Acquire? That implies something different than her situation.
"It would have been a brilliant war of words. But, oh well. I've already achieved the majority of my goals. Let us speak plainly for each other's sake. You do know, do you? You're aware of what's happened to this man? To your men? A terrible shame of events, don't you think?"
Tanya says nothing, nor does Visha.
He shrugs, unclasping his hands and bringing them forward.
"How unfortunate, the ever-cautious Vooren Grantz... caught in an uncharacteristic tragedy."
With his left, he presses one of the fingers on his right hand down. Counting.
"How unfortunate, that a man as strong as an ox, Rhiner Neumann... felled by mere chance, a lucky stab in the dark."
He presses down, counting off a second finger.
"How unfortunate, that such a sharp, considering man, Wilibald Koenig... it could have been anyone in that cab, I suppose."
A third.
"How unfortunate, that Matheus Weiss, healthy, in the prime of his life... yet, illness claimed him all the same."
Faux-Zettour, or Zettour-X as she mentally dubs him, chuckles, holding up four fingers. His lone remaining finger on that hand, his thumb, wiggles teasingly.
"Is the picture clear, girl? You already know, do you not? Must you make me demonstrate more? Do you understand yet?"
"...you know, I already knew that about you. I've always had a measure of your character, even if I couldn't understand it." Tanya glares at him. "You're nothing more than a devil- is what I'd like to say. But that's the point, isn't it? We will never understand each other."
"How quaint... but you know, Tanya, I wasn't only talking to you."
Zettour-X's smile sharpens at either end, stretching his face unnaturally. His metallic gaze looks past her, and in a low, scraped chalkboard drawl, he croons his next word.
"Viktoriya. Come to me."
"She's not-" There's motion behind her. Tanya pauses.
Visha steps out, jerkily as if forced, and avoids eye contact while passing by. It doesn't stop Tanya from seeing the golden glint glowing along the edges of her cheeks.
"…I see."
"Good. Good, child." Visha walks with stuttering, shaky step, her hands twitching at her sides, until she's standing next to him. Then she turns, expression dull and eyes tinted gold over the blue, as she silently takes a place at his side. Zettour-X chuckles. "Thank you, my child. Your… compliance is acceptable."
"What the hell did you do to them, Being X?"
"There's no need for harsh words, Tanya von Degurechaff." He says mockingly, laying a hand on Visha's shoulder. "There's a very simple reason for all of this setup. Did you know, something about your very nature equates to immunity from divine interference. Congratulations! You're free… for now. Because you see, little Star, that makes you a problem."
Tanya grimaces, a dark glint swirling in her eyes. "So because I'm a problem, you decide to take it out on everyone else like a pathetic, tantrum-throwing child? Was killing my former subordinates just revenge to you? Some all-loving god you are."
"Don't be so arrogant, or indeed, uncharacteristically hasty! I was getting to that part." The bastard is enjoying this. "I never claimed to be so all-loving, and I never made any illusions as to my intentions. That's the bare minimum required with you humans and your free will. It's not as though I sought them out for revenge. With your disappearance, it is only, how you might say, the next logical assumption that I would need to replace you."
He smirks, the expression malicious against the aged lines of Zettour's face.
"It just so happens that your dear friend required a little, shall we say, mental fracturing before she would give in. Those subordinates of yours would have been an excellent addition to the cause, otherwise… but I suppose the strength of her will and her resistance, as temporary as they were, were at least partially a product of her closeness to you. Despite myself, I will admit that it impressed me."
…like with Mary Sue and her father's death.
Silencing the agonized scream of rage in the depth of her mind, Tanya's hands clench and unclench at her sides. Logic. That's her focus. Think, Tanya, think.
There must be something about strength of will that even he can't suppress by itself, otherwise he could have just controlled anyone he wanted. Unless it's a self-imposed restriction of some kind, but then it doesn't matter.
"Is that it then?" Tanya asks, head tilted defiantly. "You needed a new pawn, and you had to break-" She spits the word out in disgust, unable to hide all of it. "-her to get her. All that tells me is it took you two years to crush the spirit and take advantage of an already emotionally vulnerable young woman. Am I supposed to be impressed? Honestly, if you intended to take control of someone close to me, I would have expected it in the years before I died. But now? Really, how do you get anyone to follow you? Anyone with sense can see how pathetic you are."
Is what I'm saying, and it's all well and good to act the part of the unconcerned pragmatist. But if I'm being honest with myself? Her shoulders are entirely too tense for anyone paying enough attention. She wants to ball her hands up into fists and beat that smug look off of his face. That's the problem with opening yourself up to these sorts of things. Right now, it's taking everything I have to just stand here.
Both emotionally, and physically. Her knee pulses, a flash of hot-cold spiking down from her hip to her shin. Dizziness strikes her, and is viciously ignored. The gaping void in her stomach also is no help.
"If it were anything less than necessary, I imagine we'd be having a different conversation." Zettour-X shrugs, genuinely unconcerned in comparison to her disguised fury. "But you should manipulate people when they're emotionally vulnerable, right? What's so wrong with it when I do it?"
Necessary, huh? Got it.
There's something preventing him doing whatever he likes. He stated outright that he needed to kill Grantz, Neumann, Koenig, and finally Weiss before he could acquire a replacement pawn. The use of "mental fracturing" gives the rest of the game away; it's something to do with willpower, or free will, or mental endurance.
Wherever the nuance is in that approach, being self-imposed or a World-restriction or whatever else it could be, Tanya doesn't care. All that matters is that such a restriction exists.
That means, if someone has a sufficiently powerful will or desire…
"I should also tell you," Zettour-X interrupts, "that I'm fully aware of your little scheme. Nothing my little puppets know is unavailable to me, and I'm sorry to say, but your little ritual has already been disturbed. Whatever its intent, I doubt something requiring five meticulously carved runic arrays can proceed without the latter two."
Then, one of the missing pieces from earlier snaps into place.
"Whenever you disappeared, you were actually going to one of your puppets." It's a statement rather than a question. And you know what, yeah, she really hates using that word considering one of the puppets in question is Visha. "The locker room, our discussion on the roof… earlier today, I imagine. Were you splitting your attention three separate ways this whole time?"
"I appreciate you pretending to keep your cool in spite of these revelations." He chuckles, oddly indulgent for the circumstances. "But I suppose I can answer that much. It's not resistance around you, but immunity. That's important. The only way to find you was, in fact, by physically finding or spotting you. And additionally, I knew that you were aware of my own presence whenever I was near. To counteract this, I hid a reflection of my Ego inside that of my puppets. Thus, as limited as a physical disguise may be, the information I gathered directly from the source, both through our conversations and through those with Viktoriya, more than made up for it. Does that answer your- I'm sorry, are you rolling your eyes right now?"
She is, mentally exhausted just form listening to him.
"So what I've gathered is that, no, you weren't splitting your attention three separate ways. You were only in one place at one time, taking advantage of the fact that I can sense your presence to trick me into lowering my guard whenever I couldn't sense it. Is that about right?"
"…you know, Tanya, I was half joking earlier, but the fact that you are remaining so remarkably level-headed right now is concerning. Not for me, mind, but for you. Are you right in the head? What happened to the shouting? The anger? Have you actually cracked and it's just taking this odd form, or are you truly such a sociopath that this actually doesn't affect you? That's genuine question; I'm honestly curious at this point."
"Oh, no, I am beyond furious right now." Tanya says calmly. "But before I answer your question, let me ask another one of my own. Did Visha mourn me?"
"Did she… mourn you?" Zettour-X blinks, and so thrown off is he by it that he genuinely answers. "Well, I'd imagine so."
"Good."
But Tanya isn't referring to his answer or the idea that Visha mourned her. Because Being X just confirmed something very important.
"Then, with that out of the way, let's answer your initial question. No, I haven't cracked under the pressure. No, I'm not such a sociopath that your manipulations and murders of everyone I cared about in this world have no effect on me. As unimaginable as the thought may seem, I'm sure at some point in the near future I'll break down and shed real tears for that damage you've done to me and mine. But that's not important right now. Right now, I think I'm going to show you the results of your own arrogance."
Zettour-X raises an eyebrow. "Oh, are you now? And how do you plan to do that? With a couple of storage and release-type mana sinks? An incomplete ritual? The indomitable human spirit? I could go on, but I find that human amusement is remarkably overpowering when I let it take me, and would rather keep most of my composure for the time being."
Overpowering, he says.
"That's your problem." Tanya raises her hands, as if to clasp them together. "You always think you know everything, and because of that, everyone else should just shut up and follow along. Obviously, you know more, and obviously, you know better than anyone else… is what you think, at least. But you made one pretty fucking big mistake. You never should have left me alone."
At this, his hand blurs behind his back.
"Is that so?"
Shattering the tension is a familiar rending of the air. That is, the violent bang of a handgun.
"Gah!"
"Tanya!"
"Not so fast."
In less than a second, the situation shifts for the worse.
Tanya falls to one knee, sporting a bleeding bullet wound through one of her thighs. Visha loses her composure, seemingly breaking free for a second. Just enough to jerk forward and reach out a hand, accompanied by a shout. And Being X, still incarnated in Zettour's body, stops her.
He yanks her back, then swaps his grip from Visha's shoulder to the back of her neck.
"Just for that, I think I'll punish you a bit." Zettour-X says, as a golden glow begins to shine through the gaps in his fingers. "Just kidding. I was already planning on doing this."
Tanya clutches at her wounded leg, trying to stem the flow of blood staining her hands.
A gun? Being X, using a gun?! But, if he's really in a physical body now, of course he'd have reinforcement! Shit! Of course he'd react with that!
Despite the burn, and an inability to stand, she tries to get up.
"Visha, move!" Her body doesn't respond the way it should. She looks up, locking eyes with her former adjutant. "Visha!"
Visha looks back at her, and smiles. Her normally blue eyes glow, shifting and changing color.
"Don't make this harder on yourself than it needs to be. And assuming you were telling the truth," Zettour-X is talking to Tanya, they realize, "this should hurt."
But, before they change completely, an understanding passes between them. Without any need for words, they know what the other is thinking.
No, don't-!!
Golden energy erupts from beneath Zettour-X's fingers, engulfing him and Visha in translucent waves of almost-flame. The power – Being X's power, Tanya thinks, feeling his presence become heavier with each passing second – swirls and mixes, a whirlpool localized over two figures in violent, wind-causing fashion, until-
Abruptly, almost anti-climatically, it ends.
"Aah… now this…"
Zettour's body crumples lifelessly to the ground.
"…this feels much better. The benefits of health and youth."
"Visha" steps forward, away from the former puppet. Or perhaps host or even vessel is the better term here. Tanya personally likes "host", as it implies Being X as a sort of parasite.
"And, undoubtedly, of power."
Visha(?) balls her hands into fists, punching the air with a quiet huff of effort behind each blow.
"Such a gem you cultivated, Tanya. She's a remarkable specimen. For a mortal, that is."
That smug expression and smooth tone…
…don't belong to that voice.
Not-Visha crouches down, relieving the abandoned Zettour of the pistol still clutched in hand.
No, this is fine. It's fine. It's not-
Wrong, wrong, wrong.
Not-Visha, or Visha-X if we continue the pattern, walks casually toward her downed foe. Though, in her mind, the word "foe" gives Tanya far too much credit.
"Well, isn't this adorable." Visha-X tilts her head, then smirks. Her voice, initially two-toned as if he and Visha were speaking at once, now settles into a single, deeper toned version of Visha's normal voice. "So, it turns out she couldn't mourn you. And what's this? I already knew you were hiding from me, but the true extent is just… I'm impressed, Tanya."
Is he accessing her memories…?
She lets her bloodied hands creep away from her wound, moving them closer to one another-
BANG!
Another bullet impacts the ground next to her. Tanya flinches, admonishing herself for it and for telegraphing her intent so clearly.
"Now, now. None of that." Visha-X lowers the gun to her side, chuckling. "I know the significance of hand signs myself. Next time, I'll skip the gloating and shoot you between the eyes. Oh, I do so hope you'll try again."
Tanya can't help the chill that runs down her spine.
At least he's admitting that it's gloating. She snarks internally, doing her best to distract herself from the litany of shitty fucking things happening right now. I can work with this. I can. This- this fucking shitshow…
It's not working.
"You knew?" She asks, less curious and more to keep him talking, if nothing else.
"Knew? You salty summer child, I've known this entire time." Visha-X approaches, disgustingly confident. This is likely due to the gun in hand, though Being X's own shitty personality is also a major contributor by virtue of itself. "I've known since I found you that you were hiding something. But, to your credit, you are remarkably good at hiding, and whatever you did to protect your soul like that, to bestow that immunity, I commend you. I can't read your thoughts or intentions even now, even standing this close to you."
By "this", she means "less than a meter away", as Visha-X stops and stares down at Tanya's kneeling, bleeding form.
"But I knew. Oh, I knew. And to think, you really thought you could pull the wool over my eyes."
"Thought? You mean succeeded." Tanya shrugs, then winces. It's almost inevitable to feel her body breaking down. "You weren't sure, were you? You knew something was wrong, but you didn't know what. So you waited, and did nothing. Is that right?"
"…you are such a fucking baffling, irritating mortal. Even if we humor the thought that you pulled one over on me, it doesn't change the fact that I did nothing because it did not matter. There's nothing you could or can possibly do against me. What difference would one day or six make? What could you have possibly come up with? The answer is nothing! I've already ruined your pathetic excuse for a plan with only the barest hint of effort on my part, and you have the nerve to kneel in front of me and still act like such uncomprehending, idiotic, arrogant-"
"Are you done?"
Visha-X blinks, genuinely taken aback. "Pardon?"
"I asked if you were done." Then, she spits. The glob of saliva falls almost in slow motion, before splattering against one of Visha-X's boots.
There's a moment of stunned silence.
Stars explode across her vision, Tanya's head jerking to the side as Visha-X pistol whips her across the forehead. Before she can keel backwards, however, Visha-X bends down, grabbing Tanya by the collar of her white-button and yanking her upright.
"Oops. My hand slipped." The tone of voice is so utterly calm that it gives everything away. Anger seethes underneath the surface, a smothering rage that is so great it can't be expressed.
Blood trickles down Tanya's face from a gash across her brow, layering dizziness and a head wound on top of her already subpar physical condition. She's almost wanting to die, Being X might conclude here.
"That's… it?" She's being held barely off the ground, halfway kneeling and choked by her own collar; somehow, still, she's able to scoff in Visha-X's face.
"Defiant until your last breath-"
Tanya tilts herself closer, ignoring just how much the simple motion tugs at everything wrong within her, and spits again.
It splatters against Visha-X's cheek.
Inside the open space of the portal-containing warehouse, the air is deathly still.
Divine presence slams down on area around them. Like a dam breaking, Being X's divine aura, divine energy taints the air, burning with every breath and grinding against the barrier around her soul.
It's uncomfortably hot, like standing too close to a campfire.
But also, it's amazing.
"Do you somehow get off on this?" Visha-X's eye twitches. "One last fantasy before you're locked away for good? In case you've somehow forgotten, let me remind you: you are done."
There we go. Almost…
It's like Being X is merging those divine energies within the world, this World, itself. Instead of just creating a 4th dimensional gap and layering your sense of self on the empty space-time, as the World's creator, feeding into the original space just makes sense. That way, instead of just setting up the World with predetermined Laws, you might be able to…
How interesting. Something to experiment with later, certainly. Assuming there is a "later" here.
C'mon, you bastard.
"I'm… still breathing…" Tanya grabs the arm holding her collar, using it as leverage. "…you second-rate, devil-wannabe cunt."
Silence, yet again. Not for long.
Visha-X yanks up and slams her knee into Tanya's stomach, and Tanya falls back into a half-collapsed, curled in on herself kneel as the grip on her collar disappears.
This is possibly… the worst day… of my life…
No matter what though, this is easily the absolute worst five day stretch Tanya's experienced, ever.
Visha-X walks around to Tanya's side and presses a boot against her, shoving her over onto her back.
"You were saying?" That last word is spit out with a truly breathtaking amount of hatred.
If the divine presence, aura, energy before was a campfire, now it feels like being thrown directly into a bonfire. A pyre of her own making, one might conclude.
"That's enough. I've cottoned on to your scheme already. It's over, Tanya."
Visibly seething, eye twitching, Visha-X tosses their handgun to the side, steps across Tanya's fallen form, then crouches until she's straddling the other's torso.
"I can see it, you know. Viktoriya told you about how I'd already made Hans my puppet, didn't she? And there you were, planning for the worst. You always get that gleam in your eye."
Tanya tries to shove Visha-X off, and her hands get smacked away for the effort.
"'What if,' you thought to yourself, 'Being X can control Visha like that? What if she could resist him, like me? If I make Being X mad enough…' was along the lines of your thought process, right? I know I'm right. How uncharacteristically optimistic of you. But you're desperate, so it's alright to reach outside the box a little."
Visha-X meets Tanya's defiant, bloody, blue-glowing glare with a smirk. Another effort is made; Tanya grabs at Visha-X's hips and twists her own, biting her own lip until it bleeds as the motion aggravates her wounded leg.
The effort is strangely weak.
Visha-X doesn't notice, instead simply squeezing Tanya's torso with her legs and leaning down, keeping her center of gravity low and getting directly in Tanya's face at the same time.
"I have bad news: I thought of that too. That's the issue with wagering against your God; you never come out on top. You were wrong. But not about everything."
Before she can react, Visha-X grabs Tanya by her throat.
"After all, you were right to point it out; you are still breathing."
It is doubtful whether or not Visha's face stares her down; the color and expression are all wrong, warped by Being X.
A smug grin, a dark glint in those gold-shining gaze. There's not even a hint of blue.
"I'll admit, when hooked you into that body, I was curious to see what you'd do. I wanted to see how you'd react." Visha-X says, gripping tight with both hands and slowly cutting off Tanya's airflow. Tanya tries to throw her off, to no avail. "To my own surprise, the process completed itself. That was my first clue, if I hadn't already known deep down; your self-image had changed, enough to subconsciously shape the process of that body. Very interesting. I wonder what other new powers you hold inside that protective shell of yours, little Star."
The aura intensifies. Visha-X's grip tightens. Tanya's hands fly up, pulling weakly at her wrists.
"And on top of that, managing to stay out of my sight, making yourself nigh untouchable to any external divine influence… the implications behind your disappearance are astounding. When you escaped, you were a problem. Now, you are a slightly bigger problem. An annoyance. A hindrance."
"Vi-!"
Just… a little more…
Visha-X chuckles, leaning closer until they're nearly nose-to-nose. Gold against blue. The weight of the sky pressing against Atlas below, locking the Titan in place.
"Well, I won't say I dislike the opportunity. It's been so long since I've been incarnated in the flesh, and the only way to ensnare your soul, Star, is to physically break open your shell and take it, then I'll gladly make myself mortal to do so."
Tanya's grip on Visha-X's wrists strengthens. Visha-X tilts her head, uncaring, and squeezes. The cut-off choking gasp nearly makes the deity-vessel laugh again.
"You would never give in, and I could not manipulate you from afar. God taking a physical form to save to World from a devil… this might as well be destiny, don't you think? That the more enjoyable candidates were all oh so close to you, just makes sense to me. And now, I'm going to kill you, and afterwards, I'm going to crack open that immunity of yours, steal the radiance of that Star, and lock you away for a millennium. Do you understand now? Everything you've planned, every little spark of defiance, each death, it all led you to this exact moment, the realization that nothing you do matters in the face of me-"
And that's what Being X just can't understand. As one who has lived for so long without experiencing Death, how could he ever claim that it means nothing? To him, perhaps, death is merely a spoke on the wheel of life and rebirth. It is a doorway one steps through at the end of life. Except, in his eyes, life does not end. It merely enters a new phase.
But for mortals, Death is an end. Not a new beginning, or a door. Memories, one's previous life, gone. If you lose everything, how can you possibly consider that nothing?
When Death had claimed her, it had been with love. Defiance means little to inevitability. They had embraced twice before, and with a third, like all the others, it asked her to stay.
Rest. It is time to rest. You have done enough.
Oh, how it called her.
Three is an important number. Symbolic.
It should have meant oblivion. Mortals are not meant to experience such a thing and remember, not as often as she had. She should be resting. She should have met her end.
I'm not done yet.
But regardless, she will not truly die. Not until such a time that she has lived the life she wants to live. Her soul burns, stellar, a fiery beacon against infinity. A special case, even among infinity.
Tanya is not a prodigy. But that's okay; you cannot BECOME as her through natural talents. It is something one must make THEMselves.
"Reconstruct yourself from stardust."
Divine energy surrounds the blue-glowing, abyssal black Star that is her soul.
It's about combining desire with reason. It's always been about how I want, why I want... what I want. What do I... want...?
Being X really can't understand it. But isn't it obvious?
Turning the tables when your back is against the wall, using whatever cards you have available to get the outcome you desire, that's exactly what makes mortal races so special.
Black spots stain her vision. A wave of dizziness and euphoria canvas her battered form. Tanya gasps to no avail, and doesn't care. Sweat and blood stick her silver bangs to her forehead, the rest dripping down her pained expression.
This, it's a gamble, but-!
And then, for the first time since feeling Being X's presence, since arriving in this World… Tanya releases the blue-tinted lock protecting and hiding her soul.
Tetra Breaker.
Three is an important number. And convenient, considering the circumstances.
And consider this: why in the world would Tanya plan without imagining the worst-case scenario? A plan is not a plan unless it has a possibility of success, no matter how slight.
The tide of energy between them shifts.
"What?!" Visha-X, Being X, whoever or both, flinches.
They're right about one thing, at least.
Everything, for better or for worse, intentional and accidental and all the mistakes they've all made over the course of this specific, unlikely situation… all of it led to this exact moment.
"You have to make a choice."
I'm want to keep living... I'm going to live however I want. I want to go home. I want to see them again. I want to win.
Golden waves like flames explode outward. Dancing flares of light, formerly under Visha-X's control, swirl violently around Tanya's soul, an event horizon of divine energy unable to escape the infinite gravitational pull.
I don't care if it's greedy or selfish. And…
Being X's divine aura flows down Visha-X's arms, from her body, through every place the two of them of connected.
…I'm going to take her back!
"Stop! What are you-?!" Visha-X tries to pull away.
But this time, Tanya is holding on and not letting go.
The jostle back, the former leaning back and Tanya leaning forward. Visha-X swings her captured arms forward, to bash in the other's nose. Tanya holds tight, the blow stopping before it can connect.
They stay connected. The air crackles around them, and the concrete beneath shudders.
"Are you an idiot?!" Visha-X yells, unsuccessfully trying to yank her wrists free. Her voice, once a single tone, now splits into two once more. Underneath her, THEM, Tanya's injuries knit themselves together with golden electricity. "You can't absorb all of it! You'll burn out your soul! You'll erase yourself from existence!! Do you really want that?!"
"What's wrong?" Tanya, keeping a tight hold of her wrists, shoves Visha-X off of her enough that she can sit up and meet THEM eye-to-eye. "For an all-powerful God of the Old Testament, you almost sound worried!"
Golden power surges, arcing bolts of divine lightning rippling between Tanya and Visha-X's arms, torsos, lower halves. The aura around the latter dims; around the former, it becomes denser.
"Don't do this! Your soul is better imprisoned than it is destroyed!! LISTEN TO ME!! YOU'LL BE DESTROYED-"
Tanya doesn't listen. She meets THEIR gaze with a blank glare of her own, unflinching.
"Say, Visha." Her tone, previously cold, now softens ever so slightly. "I understand now what it didn't back them. I know what's it's like to be willing to die for someone. To accept, as long as they live, it's an acceptable outcome. Even if it's a different kind… that's love, right?"
The event horizon crackles around them, a maelstrom of Aeonic origin threatening to swallow the both of them whole and leave less than nothing behind.
And suddenly, this is not as important as the realization being had right now. That is, the extension of Being X's Ego inside of the individual Viktoriya Serebryakov realizes that he'd made another mistake.
It's true that, as an Aeon with a connect to the Origin, the fabric of the universe itself, his energy is can technically never run out.
But like Tanya's original Unique Skill – the Tetrabattery Limit Enhancement, which molded to mimic Being X's miracle in the Type 95 – he can only release so much of that energy at one time. Further, it can theoretically be exhausted, though only a fellow Aeon could even conceivably bring him to such a point.
If we are to come full circle, you may think of it as a dam, with an unfathomable amount of water on one side. Even if you open up the floodgates, only so much water can escape at the same time, and perhaps at some point the dam itself will break down.
"Say, Visha. Isn't it about time you wake up?"
And by incarnating his consciousness into a mortal form and subjecting himself, if only partially or temporarily, to the laws of his own World, the amount that can be accessed is reduced even further, as a result of both a reduced karmic weight and the inherent limitation of a physical body harnessing an energy it was not designed to consistently access.
Eventually, this effort would still destroy Tanya. He knows this for a fact... right?
But even then, if she's fast enough, before that happens…
Visha-X's eyes flash, stuttering between gold and blue.
"TANYA!!" More than ever before, Being X's and Visha's voice come out of the latter's mouth, side by side and conflicting.
Tanya lets THEM go, and THEY scramble away, over to the handgun Being X as Visha-X had arrogantly discarded earlier.
THEY crawl over, and reach out with THEIR right hand, only for THEIR left to slam down atop THEIR wrist, just centimeters away from the weapon.
Inside the turmoil of THEIR mental landscape, Being X snarls and decides to cut his losses. He pulls away, intending to return his consciousness elsewhere-
Except, he can't.
"Say, Visha…"
Being X rages, his will against his vessel's. She cannot stop him from leaving.
"…are you still willing to die for me?"
"NO! I WON'T LET YOU!!" THEY both say, at the same time, yet meaning two separate things.
But, even if he wasn't limited by his own mistakes, by engaging in a battle of wills against someone within their own revitalized mental landscape, he'd be too late.
"You know," At some point during THEIR struggle, Tanya stood up. "I lied about settling for five arrays. In some ways, three is actually better."
The inside of her locker in the mage officer's changing room. The carved pallet hidden atop nearby warehouse. The underside of her bedframe in hers and Visha's room. None of which Visha, and thus, Being X, had been told the location of.
Extend your Sense of Self to an imaginary Boundary, then swap the World within with your own. Take God's place.
Her hands come together. Fingers extended, she keeps them straight and halfway laces them together, as if having moved to clasp her hands yet stopping halfway.
Hold on a second more, Visha.
"Set."
Her mouth opens, the Words coming to Her from within Herself, the World holding its breath around Her. Reality shifts at an oblique angle, tectonic subduction across fourth-dimensional layers of universal continuum.
"Clockwork Universe."
----
Known Skills List
<Error Resolved. Full Unlock of Skills Available. Reestablishing Connection...>
<Sealing World Egg… Adjusting for Space-Time friction… Establishing 4th Dimensional Boundary... Confirmed>
<Displacement from Demi-Material World, Designated by User as Earth-X, Confirmed>
<Authority of Deity, Designated by User as Being X, Registered>
<Converting Reality Disruptors Alpha, Beta, Gamma to Anchors...>
<Reality Anchors Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Confirmed. Sacrifice of Faux Material Body, Confirmed. Integration of Finite Divine Energy, Confirmed>
<Warning. Cannot Verify Individual's Name: "Tanya von Degurechaff". Searching for Alternative...>
<Alternative Found. Name: "Tanya ■■■■", Verified>
<Warning. Insufficient Energy for Self-Sustainment of Clockwork Universe>
<Calculating Time Before Collapse>
<Collapse of Clockwork Universe in… 3 Minutes, 42 Seconds>
<...Connection Reestablished>
<…>
Tanya:
Common Skill: Thought Communication
Extra Skill: Flames of Babylon
Extra Skill: Magic Sense
Extra Skill: Magic Aura
Extra Skill: Voice of the World Communication
Unique Skill: Tetra Breaker
Mary:
Common Skill: Thought Communication
Extra Skill: Magic Sense
Extra Skill: Magic Aura
Extra/Intrinsic Skill: Physical Enhancement
Unique Skill: Ability Severance
Shuna:
Common Skill: Thought Communication
Extra Skill: Danger Sense
Extra Skill: Magic Sense
Extra Skill: Flames of Babylon
Unique Skill: Analyst
Notes:
The underlined word near the end, "shifts", links to Zoltraak, aka one of the songs I listened to continuously while writing/imagining this. Highly recommend.
If you glanced over the usual Skills list, I'd recommend looking at it again just in case. I used FGO as inspiration for the dimensional technobabble.
Before I changed it, the title of this chapter was the same as Tanya's technique (Shuna's is more like a Domain Expansion and Tanya's is like a Reality Marble, but for an actual name I haven't decided yet). Also, I use "Aeon" as Being X's term for his level of divine being; you don't have to look into it further than that (unless you want to)
See you next time in: "Awakening"
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone