Chapter 459: Power To Wheal
When my eyes reopen, there is a row of bloodied and sharpened teeth grinning over me. Blinking rapidly, I push Lily off me, surprised to find myself in a different place than where I fell asleep. Lily prances around, shouting out her joy and happiness while I feel the dust and dirt beneath me.
The arena. Are we back inside it?
Frantic, I search for anyone else who may be with us, and the only figure I find is a familiar Undead, his one eye glowing purple, seated upon the grounds of the arena. Silas!
"Hey, Silas!? What happened while I was sleeping?"
Mie answers me first while Silas tends to the knife in his hand.
"The Court has finally awakened. Look up."
Following her words, I crane my head upward. And when I do, I find strings of text awaiting me. The words are written in the same incoherent language as The Cabin's tome, but I understand it all nonetheless. It is Ether, manifested into meaning, just as a Sirza is.
Judgment has begun for the creatures of this venerable court. In order to be fair and righteous, as some are incapable of fighting alone, the sessions have been set to have two instead of one.
The first session begins in 10:11
10:10
10:09
Shit. Shit. Shit!
"Does that mean we're against each other?"
My brain immediately understands the dilemma here. With a sinking heart, I wait for Silas' response. The Undead man twists to face me grimly, the sand shifting underneath his movement.
"Yes. We are each a pair now. I don't believe Lily counts."
I scramble to my feet, searching for something that can be done. Wracking my mind, I get Blodwyn, his cleverness, to also help. Shouting at Silas, I force him to join, too.
"Get up! Think of something! We only have ten minutes left!"
Despite my words, the Undead doesn't stand. His partner answers for him.
"It's been nearly six hours. There... there is no way out. If even the Devil struggled..."
Unable to believe her words, I peer at every corner of this arena we are in, stunned to truly comprehend its size. In every direction, the battleground seems to stretch endlessly, space somehow manipulated in this place.
From that, I look to the sky, staring beyond the dome, only to find a distant battle in the sky, with thunderous waves shaking the air but unable to reach us. The four are already fighting Death. And... we're stuck here.
"Why six hours?"
I ask the question, hoping there is some kind of hint. There is none.
"To be fair, it said."
Bullshit! How is any of this fair? We have to fight each other? To the death? I know that nonviolence isn't an option here. Something will force us. I pull at my hair as even Blodwyn turns depressed and defeated. Lily's joy is stifled by simply looking at us all.
"I don't think there is any other way, Wyatt. We... we either win. Or... we don't."
"And then what? Whoever wins will just... will just fight again. And again, until they die and gain this thing's demented form of 'justice'."
No further answers come to be as I stand, hands out from my body without anything to grab onto. Cursing, I turn and sprint to what was once the edge of the arena before abruptly stopping. There is no wall for me to break. There is nothing to escape from.
The dome above must be dozens of miles tall. And based on the fight with Eldest, the horizontal distance could be thousands of miles or more.
Despite it all... I refuse to die. And I refuse to let Silas die.
Turning to examine the sky and the horizon, I hear the Undead speak to his partner. And instantly... it breaks my heart.
"I am sorry, Mie. It seems our end is upon us. I promised to help you to the best of my ability, but... this is where my limit lies."
"Don't say sorry! I... I'm sorry. I was too mean, too lost in anger. If I had treated you better... you'd already be a Virtue. I'm sure of that."
I don't turn and face them, even as they pour their hearts out. It's the first time I've heard anything but arguments between them. It would seem that they were not as disagreeable as I thought. They were only... similarly grieved. Even still, the admittance doesn't feel good to hear, no matter how it sounds to my ears.
"It wouldn't have mattered. They are our opponents."
Reaching for my Dominion comes to me without effort. My soul leaks out of my body, reaching outward like a thousand different tendrils, a million different feelers. My soul is formless, and as such, it is malleable. It can Shape. But... what exactly does that mean?
I kneel and thrust my palm against the ground as Blodwyn warns me against directly antagonizing the Court. But at this point, I don't give a shit. This fucking place! And all the people here! It's like the universe is giving its all to piss me the fuck off!
I won't kill my friends! I WILL NOT!
My vision wobbles and flickers as I feel my soul spread out into the ground, only to be quickly rebuffed by a force a thousand times my size. Twitching in pain, I spasm to the floor on my back, groaning with each fizzling aspect of 'Justice' that runs through me.
But I smile despite the pain, despite the agony that prevents me from resisting even a little bit. I grin through the twitches, through the tremors, and even when I can't hear Blodwyn's voice beyond the weaves.
I smile with bloody gums from biting my own tongue out because the ground moved. It shifted. It... rippled.
That means there is a chance. A chance to escape without hurting or killing Silas. I just... am not strong enough yet. But there is a way. It appears I won't be able to wait until the ideal time.
Forcing my trembling hands to pause through raw spirit alone, I fish out the grain of sand from my pocket. It is tiny, yet it is mighty. The golden glow washes onto my body, only managing to make the blight upon me worse.
Still, the smile remains.
"Blodwyn."
I speak aloud to my partner, one of the rare few times, and he replies with certainty, already knowing what is in store. He's been ready for a long, long time.
"I am ready. Do it. I will take what you do not."
The voices of the other two continue while I begin to apply pressure on the grain of sand with my fingers and with my soul itself. The sand resists my strength, but I only continue to add more with each concurring second as the 'Justice' fades from my system.
"I've been wanting to tell you something, Mie."
"Don't, Silas. Whatever you feel, it's not real."
"But it is Mie. I know it's stupid, but—"
"It is stupid. You don't love me. You loved a woman and forgot her existence, clinging to the closest person with all that lingering love. Do not. I do not want that to be the last thing I hear before I die. What you feel is rushed and not genuine."
"You don't want to hear that you are loved? That someone cares? About you? As if... you were a person?"
Their words only embolden my fingertips, placing more force into them. But it's not my hand that matters with this. No, it is my Dominion. I feel my soul flow into the grain of sand, and I'm instantly buffeted by a storm of...
Emotion.
A thousand years of pain and suffering directed solely at me. The heartache creates pangs in my chest as I struggle to breathe. Tightening my eyes, I attempt to focus but quickly lose the bearings. I quickly get lost in the pain of dying endlessly, realizing that this was yet another weapon left behind by the Mother Below.
First, Eldest was there to possibly ascend, and even if he didn't, weaken the rest of us. Secondly, Remington's hand was set to kill or severely weaken Louis Fern, which seems like the latter happened. And thirdly... a trap was set for me. Or... maybe it isn't. Maybe this is simply the price I have to pay to bear for time. I wonder... how did Remington set himself onto this road from alchemy?
I retreat into my own body, pulling out from the grain of sand, but the harrowing awfulness only follows me back to my body. Fortunately, though, I am not alone. A river of darkness and steaming blood meat the proverbial sands of time as they attempt to grind me down bit by bit.
Lily's voice comes to me from my right ear like a whisper, the young girl managing to control her energy for an instant of brutal clarity. No matter how much I see her as a child, I must remember that she is a weapon first.
"Go. Dive into the sand. Bring little brother Blodwyn with you. I won't let him take you. A river, huh? We'll see who has the better one."
Despite the Devil's entrapment and imprisonment of Remington, some leftovers still linger, namely, the emotions supplied by the River Of Time. Still, I trust Lily to handle it, for now at least.
The Cardinal is on the same tier as the River Of Time, both ancient Wonders, Natural Gods without minds, or, more likely, ones that lost them long ago. And while Remington might be some kind of channeler of those yellow sands...
Lily is a vessel, a burgeoning God of the stygian waters that first gave birth to life. And as it is the one that gave life, it can take it away, too.
A war occurs within my body as those dark waters flourish in between my veins. I can feel time pass with reckless abandon as Lily struggles to prevent the loss of any of my lifespan. How ironic.
Gritting my teeth, I slide my soul out of my body entirely, knowing that it is possible only because I feel it is. The hunch quickly turns out to be a fact as I push my whole being into that grain of sand. Furthermore, I drag Blodwyn's soul with me, ripping him right out of my body, too.
Though the latter is only possible because he doesn't resist me in the slightest. And together, we enter that grain of sand while its remnants are distracted. I think... I think I know what Remington meant when I saw him in that darkness.
A Remnant of a Remnant. The one I saw in there was the tiny vestiges that remained of one of the most extraordinary mortals to ever walk. Bowing my head in respect, I feel the Sigils within the grain. I reach for the four out of the nine that seem to resemble mine, knowing that it must be the Copycats. Blodwyn scrambles for another, taking a Copycat as well. Together, we rip apart the seams of the long-forgotten human.
As I feel the Sigil merge into me, I find myself standing in a familiar field without any trees, nothing but grass waving in the wind. It is a peaceful place. A place beyond time itself.
Across from me is a smiling middle-aged man, the scars of time apparent from the weight in his gaze. The man is utterly ordinary, with a cheap brown robe and blemishes all over his face. If anything, he's closer to a drunkard in appearance than a Demigod. Nonetheless, the man doesn't say a word to me.
He simply waves with a hand, saying goodbye with an action instead of a phrase. But with that wave comes a split vision, a split future, two lanes of the same life.
The first has Remington Shaw frozen in that realm with the Mother Below for all of eternity. Both are forced to undergo the limitless torture that is... eternity in repetition. But Remington Shaw refuses to simply fade.
The second vision, however, is a little different. It is of the body that Remington left behind to chain Usen for eternity. It tells the story of the body that is desecrated, of the Sigil forced out of it by an implantation of an Arca. The Sigil of Remington Shaw is cut off at the hand, falling to the ground. And with that, the one within eternity lost his edge. He lost his only anchor. From there... he began to fade.
Still, at the end of his time, at the end of all that he is, Remington Shaw leaves with the goodbye of a man of his stature. Finally, as I feel my body vanish from this grain of sand, taking his Sigil with me that morphs to match my others, I hear his goodbye to the world.
"It was an interesting life I led, I suppose. One last gift for those who follow my king. One last... One... On... O..."
A soul shatters before my eyes as I blink rapidly, watching the grain of sand detonate into motes of Ether into the air. This is my first time seeing such a thing. I've seen people die, their souls sucked away by death, but I've never seen a soul genuinely... break like this.
And break it does. The soul of Remington Shaw floods the world with Ether, with a specific type of Ether, one imbibed with the Concept of time itself. Conceptual Ether. The highest, grandest form of Ether in all of existence, the Ether wielded only by the Gods themselves and those at the precipice.
This Ether wraps around Silas and me, intertwining us within an orb of swirling Sigils. I pivot on my feet, too shocked to investigate my own advancement, as I notice something far above.
8:10
8:10
8:10
The time doesn't change. It stands still. Silas and Mie have long paused their conversation in total awe, just as I am at this spectacle. It might not be as destructive as Marshall's final strike or my father's Reaper's Seal, but... the Ether speaks nonetheless.
Time Stills For My King.
The Ether around us, swirling like a veritable river, utterly copies and replicates the River Of Time. It weaves through the air, shifting the very laws of reality as they are. It's utterly beyond anything I've ever seen so close up. From what I know, Sirzas, at least those with Conceptual Ether at their base, have the capacity to grow to form Natural Gods if left unchecked. Yet that takes a long, long time, a thousand years, at the least, from the Devil's example.
And yet... something tells me a feat such as this, so deeply imbued with Conceptual Ether, had it not been a final act of a dismantling soul, it would have quickly joined the Crimson Court.
"What is this?"
Silas' voice is shaky, insecure, and doubtful of the world at large. It's almost as if he cannot believe what is happening. I grin at the duo before me, respecting the man's last burden.
"It is Remington Shaw's final gift to the world. Don't waste it, Silas. Mie."
The two stare back at me. I can hardly endure the many questions in their burning gazes, but Mie focuses on the most important first. I don't even think they've ever heard the name before today, but the Arca still knows how to pick out the vitals.
"What do you mean? What should we do?"
"Train. There are seven Sigils left in those waves. That means Silas can grow again, though you can't, Mie."
Silas shakily nods, raising a hand toward the river of sand that encapsulates us from the rest of time. The question would be effortless to guess, even if he didn't vocalize it.
"How long?"
I shrug, not having an answer.
"Who knows? As long as we want? I'm not sure. But we can't stay in here forever without food or water for me. Or... maybe we can. I don't know yet. Either way, we likely have a while. So... get to it, you two."
With that, I sit, close my eyes, and enter the internals of my Sigil and soul. Blodwyn flows alongside me, already back inside our body, as the emotions left behind by Remington seem to have been gobbled up by Lily. The lithe girl stares at me, and I can see her despite my lidded eyes.
I think it's about time to gauge what's changed. First... First, I want to know about my friend's Dominion. Blodwyn chuckles ominously within our shared body as he demonstrates it to me. Or well... he shows its soul to me, and... somehow, I just know. My mastery and Dominion over my soul seem to have matured in such a short timeframe, not even a single day.
Blodwyn's is more straightforward than mine but still complex. It fits him, though. Reaching out with my right arm's hidden blade, I cut a line across my left hand and smile as the wound vanishes. But it doesn't just disappear entirely. No.
It manifests upon my other hand. Woundwrithe, his name, of course. It does more than just move our wounds, though. It's so... so much more than that. We can writhe our injuries onto others with a simple touch. I can just imagine it. Even the injuries we give to others can be augmented, enhanced. It'll be weaker on others with Domionions to guard their souls, but those without could be easily killed by a papercut.
With our toughness, we could be a walking corpse, and a mere tap onto another being, they'd take our place in the Pale Lady's fingers. Of course, the more grievous the wounds, the more difficult it is for Blodwyn to push onto the target, but that's beside the matter.
Because... we're both 9th Sigileds now.
We're both Demigods. Together. Opening my eyes, I stare down at the midnight purple chains covering our body inside and out. It's been a long road to get here. And while I want to delve into my own soul and figure it all out, all the improvements and whatnot, there is something more pressing.
"Thank you."
My partner simply returns the two words, adding one of his own.
"Thank you, too."
When we first met... we were at bitter odds every damned second. Who would have thought... who would have thought we'd make it all the way here together?
Back then, I didn't even know Demigods existed, let alone that I'd join their ranks. But as I try to focus, to set my mind upon my soul and Sigil, darkness overwhelms me, and a terrible fit of fatigue befalls me, forcing me to close my eyes. I fight it, I war with every smidge of my existence, and Blodwyn does too, but it is not something that can be refused. Slumber takes me just as it did when I became an Angel.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone