Capítulo 79: Long Night
*hehe, we're finallly here. Do enjoy and let me know what you think.
IMPORTANT NOTE: When you see this - *** - in the novel, play the following song on repeat as you read, for ambiance: https://youtu.be/D8Yq6vtjBLk?si=eFxjFcVYogmB7ny_
Have fun and let me know what you think. Peace out and Deus vult*
With a flurry of motion, he scrambled to his feet, staring at Sunday, watching the maniacal robot-like creature swing the baton around with flair, guiding along the symphony of pain that was coming Mark's way, the notes moving through the air with precision and speed. With restless movements, a flurry of light danced along to the flicks of his wrists, the sword moving with precision as it sent out pure energy slices through the air, cutting in their path enough to keep him safe.
"I should move faster, strike harder, but where and how? I could make a little bet to try and get closer, but we'll have to wait and see."
He kept moving around like a cockroach, dodging, sliding, throwing ice all over to clear a path. He made haste for Sunday once more, fueling the Fire of Will beneath the soles of his feet to ascend to the skies. As he prepared, he reached high above, increasing the size of the sword as he heard the subtle sound of the ice blade breaking.
"Let's see how nice this one will land," he chuckled, lifting the sword high up before lowering it with his entire torso, firing at once to the ground like a missile, the turquoise blade clashing with the partitures and notes that sung along in harmony, weaving themselves together in a shield. Mark's gaze fell below the translucent human-shaped beings, recalling what they were capable of.
The flames increased, pushing with rattling power, crushing his tissues upon themselves as his arms struggled to keep the sword straight, aimed at Sunday like a lance.
"I'll push through!" he growled through gritted teeth.
Sunday kept moving, conducting his melodies like none other, bringing odes of Harmony, dedicating them to Order.
"Embrace the dream, Mark. There's no pain there, it's a paradise for everyone, where no one has to face the cruelty and coldness of this harsh reality."
The words resounded in an almost divine way, but Mark didn't falter. Instead, he used the pain as an anchor to reality, the sky covered in crackling flames of a nuance most unnatural, his Fire of Will increasing with his desire to take down Sunday.
"Shut up, you cheap bastard! You refuse hardship and indulge in a dream, forsaking what is real for a glimmer of faked peace? How many had succumbed to the fake ambitions of this delusional dream?!"
His sword pushed harder, the blade sharpening with each word.
"How many gave up on trying because of that cheap alternative, dying out like fading stars?"
Sunday's musical shield began yielding, scattering sparks in all directions as Mark's barbaric attack only strove to pierce him.
"And you... you bastard..." he shouted, gnashing his teeth together. "You're forsaking your own family for a dream! Let me tell you from experience that THE ENTIRE DREAM ISN'T WORTH IT!"
He pushed past, zapping like a bullet through the air, lodging the blade right in The Great Septimus' chest, feeling the ice crack even more despite his continuous aid. Sunday had no time to react, simply falling back as Mark took a leap away, gasping for air, his body weak. The Sword of Will was off, yet the open wound remained, albeit without blood in the creature.
"I guess our final talk has concluded," said Sunday, straightening his back. The glowing humanoid things took flight, hovering up in the air, uniting as one in a bright sphere of light. Mark braced himself to jump and try to absorb the power, should it be from the Stellaron, but his legs gave out, the strain from using his body as a projectile catching up.
He was blinded for a few seconds, staring at the new being that welcomed him, similar in appearance yet with a sinister take. The face, its eyes closed, like a thinker succumbing to their mind, was one with the torso, the arms brought together before it to cover it up. It was the Embryo of Philosophy, none other than Sunday reaching a deeper level of Order.
"If you believe that your reality can save more people, sever my path with your hands, but I've seen it countless times before, heroic talks with no substance, mere words thrown against the wind."
Mark scoffed, shouting to make himself heard.
"Do words not reach you, fool!? I bore witness to this story before, to the man who tried to contain it all in a dream, and guess what? He failed! He was a million times stronger than any of us, and even he was doomed to fail! One can never stop suffering in the world, for that IS the nature of life!"
He stood up, his legs shaking as he pointed his sword forward, standing up for battle anew. Sunday, however, wasn't going to just wait around. He began chanting something, the words clear in Mark's head, danger lurking in his spine.
"With this seven-day vow, I command you to heed my summon..."
He brought his palms up, holding them towards the sky, the face opening its eyes, letting out the golden light, spreading it within its crevices that ran down like tears. A large golden halo with intricate markings formed on its back, and Mark didn't know for sure how to brace himself. He brought his palms together, focusing on the energy within.
"It was not you who created all things... It was humanity that created you! Your divine being will become the foundation of our paradise."
The disk flew to the sky, acting like a gate of sorts, breaking into fragments that spread out around, the light blinding. From within, a hand reached out, its index finger ready to touch that of Sunday. Mark's palms held within a glowing burst of energy, ready to launch it.
"This shit might fry me..." he muttered, stretching out his arms nonetheless.
His breath was shaky, the feeling of more energy gathering slowly pushing on his nervous endings, sparking up pain in himself.
Sunday was about to touch the hand from the sky, until... crash. Mark lowered his hands, grinning as he scoffed.
"Son of a fuck..." he muttered, watching the translucent copy of the Astral Express, one made by Stelle with the power of Harmony come crashing right in Sunday's face, shattering upon impact—yet not before leaving him flat on his back, disrupting the incoming blast.
"Took you long enough," laughed out Mark, watching the rest of the Crew come to his aid. With them was Robin, who looked at her brother with sorrow.
"Brother... why?"
Her question got Sunday dazed, the machine standing motionless for a moment. None would wait for its answer. Mark took the moment to form a large ice pillar with a burst of energy, infusing it then yanking it with all he had at Sunday, sending it packed with energy.
"Don't push yourself more, Mark," said Himeko, walking to his side, worried. Mark sighed, looking at her briefly, focusing his attention back on Sunday, who got thrown off badly by the train.
"I choose how much I push," he answered curtly, moving aside. It hurt him, but he was unsure of his own feelings at the moment.
"Is it over?" he asked, stepping forward, watching Sunday still hang by the ledge. He tried to attack, to do something, but Stelle simply fought him off with another train to the face, the projection striking hard with more power than his ice pillar could build on such short notice.
"I believe so," said Welt, coming over. He took a quick glance at Himeko's somewhat defeated expression but said nothing of it. He just looked down for a moment, then followed suit and watched Sunday fall to the ground, speaking in a defeated tone.
"Why does life slumber?" he asked, to which Stelle answered, tilting her head a little.
"It slumbers... to wake up..."
Mark walked closer, looking over to Robin, who simply ran to her brother's side, not caring for the machine-like body, the lifeless puppet of Order... fallen like the Aeon itself.
"Something about this was almost too easy," thought Mark, staring at Sunday with interest. The figure began crumbling, revealing a bleak-faced Sunday, defeated, finding comfort in his sister's embrace, the only real family he has. Mark sighed, wiping the corner of his eyes on the go, not allowing the tears to come out. He walked over to Sunday and, without even bothering anymore, struck him on top of the head with a karate chop.
"Do this shit again and there will be issues, you heard me?" scolded Mark, staring at the man with harsh eyes. Robin looked up at him, a little taken aback, but Sunday simply smiled.
"I see... I understand. Even like this, I'm sure there will be plenty of issues. I betrayed the Harmony and tried to imprison everyone within a dream..."
***
Mark sighed, shaking his head. That was the least of his worries in the situation. Instead, he stared at the puppet. It hadn't done that in the game, cracking like that, remaining up there on the flying platform. He was a little worried.
"Where's the Stellaron? We need to seal that thing."
Sunday was about to speak when Mark's gaze shot up to the sky, the ice sword in his hand pointing there instantly. The sky was black, covered by something—the very thing that had tried to sneak up on Aventurine as well, the very monster that left his mind in the dream.
"How?!" he shouted, watching as the Stellaron floated in the middle of the swirling tongues and jaws, the constant shift in the amalgamation swallowing the Cancer of the Worlds, turning it into a glowing red orb that stood up in the sky like the moon, glowing from within the dark cloud of substance.
Shrieks filled the night, rattling the souls of everyone present, all the people who had awoken from the dream watching from below with worried expressions, feeling the fear form inside of them. Laughter from a million voices rang out, bringing about fear. Everyone was taken aback by the sight, while Mark was simply trying to process everything.
"I told you I would be back... I will eat you whole, Devourer of Cancers... when dreams meddle with reality, one finds a window in its own kind, using it to become real..."
"The Stellaron... it used that to become real..."
Everyone was at his side, wide-eyed at the eldritch horror that covered the night sky, turning everything into a bath of blood-like light.
"Mark, is that?" asked Himeko, letting go of everything else at the moment.
"Yes. That..." said Mark, his lips quivering, his voice shaky. "That's the thing that bothered me... the very being that lived in my mind... that's the incarnation of the Wills of the Stellarons within myself and my innermost self..."
The others were dumbfounded, and March, who seemed to shrink in fear, asked hastily.
"You had THAT in your head? And you could sleep at night?"
He sighed, instantly shooting out ice as a large slide, sweeping everyone off of their feet, letting the dark tentacles that sprawled out grab on to the island. The others barely had time to react as the ice yanked them away, forming a path all the way to the ground. Mark gritted his teeth, feeling a cold shiver run down his spine, moving on to grab his heart and hold it with a lifeless grip.
"We're fucked..." he muttered, while the others still tried to understand what's going on. Himeko looked at it and fiddled with a remote, watching as the blast flew in from space, crashing against the dark cloud with a bright explosion. The blinding flash vanished, showing that barely any harm had been done.
"It did no damage..." whispered Stelle, still trying to wrap her head around what they were up against. Sunday seemed mortified, holding Robin behind him, shielding her with his body as they slid down the ice, reaching the ground.
"Did I cause that?" he asked, the weight of his mistakes suddenly taking a new turn. Mark, however, was simply dulled in an instant, reminded of the first time they had met inside his mind.
"Not directly... no. It would have done this no matter what. The Stellaron is the key."
Mark sighed, trying to collect himself. While the people fled, Acheron and Black Swan approached the group, with Boothill by their side.
"Mark, are you alright?" asked Acheron, stepping closer, holding him by the chin, tilting his head on all sides, inspecting him carefully. She looked into his eyes, just to make sure he was himself and not somewhat controlled by that thing up there.
"I'm fine, I'm fine. For now we have to deal with... that...."
Acheron looked up, nodding. Her hand went to the sword on pure instinct, ready to step up and solve the issue herself if she had to.
"Our combined strike seemed to have pushed it away back when the gambler tried his scheme."
Mark nodded, recalling the moment. In the sky, tentacles lashed out, growing with teeth and eyes pouring out, oozing into a dark, liquid flesh that sought out prey. The voices rang out from the sky, shouting in unison, the horrific sound causing a lot of people present to simply shiver in fear and crawl into wherever could provide solace.
"I shall consume your flesh and drink your mind, returning it to myself. You tried to enslave us, forcing upon us your being, but we were so much more... foolish vermin who meddle with forces that transcend understanding, bear witness as the consequences catch up to you, and sink deeper and deeper into nothingness, let yourselves be consumed by it and become sustenance for me..."
The thousands upon thousands of eyes that floated above focused on a single person on the entirety of Penacony... Mark. He stared up at the sky, the red light turning everything and everyone into bloodied versions of themselves. He fought back all the negative feelings that tried to bring him down into the abyss. Acheron, sensing the traces of Nihility acting up inside of him, held his hand gently, speaking softly.
"Breathe in and out... calm down and focus on the battle ahead. It will work out."
Welt placed a supporting hand on Mark's shoulder, nodding as he fixed his glasses.
"Well, it does seem like plenty of strange occurrences have taken place recently, some of which I need to discuss with you. We're in this together, right?"
March shook her head, trying to gain some courage.
"Right, Mister Yang. We're in this together. As creepy, ugly, scary, whatever that thing might be... we're together against it."
Stelle nodded, fixing the hat on her head, smiling a little.
"Someone has to clear up your mess, Mark."
Dan Heng nodded, summoning his spear, holding it tightly as he prepared to use his powers of old, turning back to his past once again.
"For an 'observer', you sure enjoy getting into trouble."
Himeko took notice of Acheron's action, feeling a pang of something in her heart, but she braced herself nonetheless. With a soft voice and a tiny smile, she spoke, holding his gaze.
"We're here, alright? You're not alone... I told you since that time..."
Black Swan couldn't help herself from teasing him a little, even in the desperate moment. She spoke softly, smiling.
"Make sure to write a wonderful story for me to remember, alright?"
Boothill watched the entire thing, grinning with no fear.
"Motherfudger, you sure know how to get the smokin' hot ones all over you."
Mark shook his head, chuckling a little at the lighthearted atmosphere.
"Heh, for now... I guess I brace myself..."
He stepped forward, ice blade in hand, reinforced with whatever he could.
"The night is long, and the beasts many... time to join the hunt..."
Capítulo 80: Last Slumber
*here we are, with the new thingy going on in the novel. Had to do my magic and take a turn in a different direction a little, you know? anyway, have fun and enjoy reading. Please let me know what you think, since I suck at writing battlescenes most of the time, so I genuinely want some feedback. Thank you very much. Enjoy for now. Peace out and Deus vult.
IMPORTANT: Play the song now for a (hopefully) better reading experience :))
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D8Yq6vtjBLk*
His heart had long since sought a break, but nothing along those lines would come its way. Battle was his new lifestyle, or at least for the major part of their travels, because of his specific goals. Thus, Mark summoned the Sword of Will once more, bracing to fight the large creature in the sky. Most of the people had sought shelter wherever they could, hiding from the bloody light of the crimson Stellaron that shone like that through the dark flesh that swallowed it.
"What's the plan?" asked Acheron, stepping to his side, hand on the hilt of her sword. Above, the mess of liquid with limbs kept morphing more and more upon itself, swirling with no end.
"I guess we just have to get me near the Stellaron. I should be able to stop it, but... we have to see HOW I'll get near, since it doesn't seem like a nice thing.
The place in the sky where they had fought Sunday had been swallowed along the remains of the Embryo of Philosophy. Bit by bit, the dark mess was molding itself along those bits, using them to better form itself as a physical being, unbound by Mark's mental restraints.
"Easier said than done, I'm sure," she mused softly. The others in the background were prepared, thinking of an answer for that question as well, but nothing came.
Mark sighed, looking over his shoulder. Before he could speak, the sound of liquid splashing the ground began echoing in the now barren city. Splash, splash, again and again, the sound kept repeating at a steady rhythm until it was coming from all angles. Dark stains fell from the sky, squirming on the ground, some of them mixing upon contact, while others roamed alone, shaking into humanoid figures with varied sizes.
The disfigured things bore many eyes on their bodies, large mouths that opened from every possible crevice, teeth that stretched out, and tongues with razor-sharp edges. Mark's eyes widened, his powers shooting out on all sides with large chunks of ice, seeking to block entrances into buildings, leaving just the one closest to them.
"Shit! We're up! Himeko, keep striking that guy up there with as many strikes as possible. If it comes down, don't even try since you'll fry us instead. Welt, try sweeping the ones incoming with your power. Dan Heng, get ready to clean the second wave or whatever Welt can't, the rest-"
Mark's voice died out as Welt braced himself, shooting out tiny blackholes that tore apart the space around them, only for the dark figures to absorb them like nothing had happened. His eyes went wide as the words connected.
"Succumb to nothingness and become sustenance... Hell, it feeds on Nihility!"
The shrieks turned into laughter, coming from all sides as the figures were still forming themselves, covering the whole city.
"Acheron, not sure if your powers will be of much use. I think it would just absorb everything, so maybe it would be better to stay this one out. I'll handle the big guy somehow. Everyone, change of plans. Himeko, you keep bombing it. The others just focus on keeping yourselves and the others safe. I'm not sure there's much else to be done."
Acheron took her sword in hand, holding it with the scabbard on.
"I can still fight. I won't let you go off alone," she declared, her voice firm as she stared into his eyes. He tried to argue, but he knew that he wasn't exactly at his peak either.
"Fine, but make sure to survive this one, got it? We'll fight in sync. I'm sure you can adapt to whatever bullshit I try."
She nodded, offering a reassuring smile. Boothill gave his gun a twirl then shot a few bullets right away, striking the things in the head. They slowed down, but that was about all.
"Son of a nice lady... those ugly motherfudgers won't go down, huh? You better hurry up then, big shot. Can't keep your ladies waitin'."
Mark nodded, staring up as the first blast struck, this time with more energy.
"I need some time to charge them, but I'll keep firing them whenever possible. I'll stop once you two get close," said Himeko, the remote in her hand. Mark nodded, taking a deep breath. Waves began striking around as Dan Heng was using his power as the Imbibitor Lunae. He was able to keep the creatures at a safe distance, but their sheer number only kept increasing, with more pouring down like rain.
"Robin, do use whatever powers of Harmony you can along with Stelle to keep everyone safe."
He sighed, giving his weapon a twirl, staring at the turquoise blade along the cracked ice vessel. One last glance over his shoulder was all he offered, paired with a few words.
"Stay safe, everyone. I'll be back before you know it."
Acheron by his side, the two made haste for the large spot in the sky. She was fast even when compared to Mark's enhanced body. He was tired from earlier, but it would have to do. Their weapons clashed with the foes, hers pushing them away while his managed to cleave them, fizzling upon contact like they burned.
All around, Dan Heng focused his attacks on pushing back the gruesome creatures without aiming towards the frontline duo, swiping away on all sides. Himeko fired one more blast, which was followed by the large red spot in the sky descending bit by bit, floating down as it kept trying to shape itself around the body left behind by Sunday, with the extra material from the place itself going into forming a larger body.
Mark's steps were quick, moving along with Acheron. They were swarmed, the number of enemies increasing with each passing second, the rain of flesh unyielding from the main body. They fought together, covering one another's blind spots. Mark dashed to the side, cleaving a swarm of eyes that tried getting closer, while she pushed back another with twisted mouths that nearly struck Mark.
They spun around one another on the go, switching places, fighting as if they were on the same battlefield years prior to that moment, sharing the same awareness, the same sense of being. Another beam came falling from the sky, while large waves of water crashed in around them. Robin's voice began ringing out, forming a protective barrier around the main group. The buildings were still blocked off, and to his relief, the creatures didn't try to force their way inside.
"Mark, you have to get closer to it," shouted Acheron, her sheathed weapon striking three foes at once, sending them toppling back. All around, they began mixing together, creating larger behemoths with twisted features, tentacles, and broken imitations of limbs.
"Yeah, I guess I have to, but I don't think it'll make it easy. It's raining fuckers like this,' he growled, his sword cutting with finesse, only to see them reforming. Gunfire rang out in the background with short pauses as Boothill rushed to reload.
Mark rushed his movements, giving a tiny burst of extra energy for a few moments, the strain already familiar in his body. The sword increased in size, creating a safe area around as he spun it in a whirlwind, careful not to hurt Acheron. From below, an ice pillar shot up, carrying them both in the air, right to their target.
"That was quick," she mused, but it was far from easy. Thousands of tentacles covered in mouths and teeth shot out from the main bulk of the creature, the Stellaron inside of it glowing brighter.
The two swung their weapons to try and deflect the strikes, but they were many in number, increasing by hundreds of folds the more they cut away. The pillar came to a halt as getting closer was impossible. He made it shrink back down, staring at the swarm below. The ground was black, the charm of Penacony reduced to a sea of eyes, limbs, and horrifying screams of pure agony.
He looked over to Acheron, whose hand gripped the sword tighter. His eyes widened as he realized that the scene must have caused some unpleasant memories to somehow surface.
"Hey, are you alright?" he asked, gently holding her by the shoulders. She looked at him, nodding, but it was clear from her shaking form that nothing was alright.
"It's fine, just... memories..."
He nodded, embracing her carefully before dashing out on a bridge of ice, keeping it growing as they got closer to the main group. Himeko struck the creature again, with the explosion being close enough that Mark could feel the shock. He slid on the ice as the projection of the Express made with Harmony's powers swept the ground, pushing the squirming sea aside, only for it to reform.
He reached the main group, watching as they kept trying to fight back, but it was nothing short of impossible with the huge number of creatures that just wouldn't die.
"What now, Mark?" asked March, firing off as many ice lances as she could. He sighed, dismissing his Sword of Will as he got close. Acheron was gently held in his arms, her body frail and shaking. Himeko glanced at the scene, but she brushed it off. She walked closer with Black Swan and took her from him, understanding why he came back.
"What now, huh?" he sighed, looking over the swarm of creatures. Dan Heng and Stelle were keeping them away, while Welt tried to figure out a way to leave the mess.
Mark closed his eyes for a moment, calming his heart. The situation was hopeless, but he had one last ace up his sleeve—the glass cannon.
"Now? Well..."
He signed himself with the cross, held the crucifix on his neck in his palm, to ground himself. He whispered a quick prayer, recalling his family and friends back in his world. He sighed, taking out his phone in a smooth motion, handing it over to March. The others were stealing glances, a little confused at his gesture, but Himeko knew what he was about to do.
"Mark, don't you dare..." she said softly, not even able to reprimand him for what he was about to do.
He scoffed a little, giving off a tiny chuckle as he held on to his sword.
"It's the only way. Don't worry, I'm used to it. Just stay safe, all of you..."
No one could say a thing. He blitzed ahead, running on 50% output. His speed was off the charts, propelling him over the wriggling mess of creatures below. With a thought, the Fire of Will began burning, spreading out below as he twisted his body, pointing his hands to the ground, guiding the fire out. They burned and shrieked, but it wasn't enough to kill them.
"Figures," he whispered, turning his attention back to the main body. The red core was glowing bright, with the thousands of tentacles sprawling out. He landed on the ground, shooting a dozen large ice spikes at the creature, watching it tear them apart. His body moved before he could think it through, following orders at a moment's notice. The ice cracked under his feet as he dashed up on one pillar, branching off with another one, then another, the Sword of Will shining bright in his hand, moving like water in a river, fluid and constant at speeds exceeding what he had ever tried before.
Everyone watched from below, slowly losing ground. They worried about him, but there he was, like a shooting star, their flicker of hope glowing bright, climbing upon ice as he cut away the tentacles. He shot up into the sky, right above the creature, sword held high over his head as he pushed back the swarming mess with the Fire of Will, his vision covered by the wall of flames. The sword grew in size above his head, fueled by the abundant energy in his body, yet his bones and muscles felt like they were being crushed.
"Burn in hell, bastard!" he shouted, swinging his sword down in one last decisive strike.
Crack.
Time came to a still as the ice sword shattered in his hands, the power too much for it to handle. There he remained, wide-eyed, the Sword of Will fading right above his head, rendering him useless. Crackling laughter from a thousand voices rang out in the night, and from the Fire of Will, one dark tentacle shot out, impaling him right through the stomach.
"You're the same utter failure I remember... your foolishness simply fueled me as it turned into agony and despair. Do you think I didn't know you would try this? I was one with you for sufficient time. I know you... you're a failure..."
The words rang out in the dead of night. One crucial moment, one split second, that was all to make them all crumble. From below, everyone stared with wide eyes, halting their attacks for a precious moment they didn't have to begin with.
Warm. Warm and metallic in taste. Those were Mark's thoughts in the moment as his breath was cut away by the red liquid that flooded his mouth, overpouring. It dripped down on the tentacle, a stark contrast between the liquid flesh of nightmare and his crimson blood.
He whispered softly, feeling the tears gather in his eye.
"I... I failed..."
The creature's laughter roared louder, gloating in his suffering.
"Yes, yes, you did. Power me with your suffering, with your anguish..."
It tossed his body to the ground, sending him flying like a falling star, right into the concrete. There he lay, covered in blood, feeling...warm... but not his warmth. To the side, everyone was trying to reach him, pushing back the monsters as much as they could, but they were about to be swallowed. Robin's barrier held, yet the creatures began latching on to it, covering it fully, wrapping around it. His last sight would be that of his failure.
"God... I'm sorry..." he whispered, unable to speak more. He wished to apologize to everyone, from the family made here to the one back home. Everyone he held dear flashed before his very eyes, regrets, things said and unsaid, turmoil until the last moment.
His eyes closed, the weight of reality lulling them into a soft state of being.
"Warm... so warm... so death's embrace is warm..."
The strange heat, however, came from his stomach. He opened one eye briefly, noticing the familiar fragments cluttering over his stomach wound, moving with a mind of their own, as if trying to cover it to stop the bleeding.
"What... I guess I'm going insane right before my death..."
One ray of joy in the entire situation, he could brace for death in the way he wanted, with a smile. To smile in death's face was his weird ambition. Thus, he smiled with all he had, and it all went out.
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