Capítulo 83: Flip 'Em
*yep, a bit of a shorter one today. I currently have been awake for damn near 32 hours n I feel cooked. Let me know what you think about the writing quality and all. Have fun. Peace out and Deus vult*
Xipe stared at him, THEIR gaze unwavering, perhaps even filled with a touch of curiosity that lingered between the harmonious lines of bliss that brought peace upon THEIR subjects.
"You seem to possess a rather crude vocabulary, don't you, human?"
He puffed out, trying to cross his arms on instinct, only for his left arm to fall down at his side; no contact was made. The sigh that left his lips was heavy, filled with a sense of loss for his limb. Instead of sitting too much on it, he moved to the other topic, the important one.
"Hand over the Stellaron," he demanded, the fatigue in his voice nothing but a cruel reminder of what he had to go through, both mentally and physically. Witnessing Himeko die again, fighting with the lives of others on the line, knowing that if they died, it was all his fault—everything had gathered into one big pile that weighed on his shoulders to the point of crushing him.
"I am afraid your request cannot be granted, oh poor lamb. For the harmonious choirs to keep their pleasant tunes and for the Land of Dreams to return to normalcy, using it is a necessity."
Mark sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He damn near wanted to just punch THEM in the face, clenching the fist he didn't have mentally; alas, he was nowhere near enough to even match up to it. The feeling of purity floated in the air with a strong, crushing strength. It was easy to tell that only by blowing up the Stellarons inside of him could he perhaps deal some decent damage, but even that wasn't sure. They were in a dream, so battles were meaningless.
"You know what? Have your damn Stellaron, but trust me when I say that next time something like this happens, I'm going to take it without asking, even if you follow me around the entire fucking universe."
Lower and lower were his growled words, flowing out with misery and tired spite. His gaze hardened, turning colder than the vastness of space he could see in THEIR clothing, the stars dancing eternally in there.
"Such foul language is a poor choice, child."
The words sounded somewhat menacingly, but no edge was felt in them. He brought up his left arm, the sole survivor of the two, and flipped the meanest middle finger in his entire life, pouring each bit of his being into the act.
"Fuck you, Xipe. I don't care about your bullshit, you hear me? I'm tired, barely standing, and I had to fix Penacony, don't even care if the bigger issue came from me. Keep your 'Family' or whatever cult you have in check, got it?" he snapped, each word more accentuated than the last, slipping from his tongue harshly.
The silence seemed to linger for longer than expected, his gaze still stern, unyielding. In that very moment, he was so tired and in need of a nap that he entered his usual phase where nothing matters. She could kill him for all he cared—nothing would snap him out of that upset mood but sleep. THEY looked at him oddly, as if not believing the words that came out, and yet they were no illusion. It was true. He had cussed the Aeon THEMSELVES.
"You speak with insolence, unfit for Harmony... I should put an end to your foul mouthing right here and right now."
He shrugged, unbothered. A yawn braced his mouth, which he didn't even cover. He just shook his head lightly and looked at Xipe with half-lidded eyes.
"Keep the fucking Stellaron," he mused, flicking his hips once to give the real deal before closing his eyes and focusing, snapping himself awake from the strange realm. After Ena's Dream, he could pick up on small differences that existed. Plus, he was fairly sure that an Aeon showing in person would cause some form of disaster or whatever.
"I'm tired..." he mumbled, looking over his shoulder to the group that was dashing his way, with Acheron in the lead.
...................................
From the moment he had brought her to safety, she felt a weird warmth in her chest, and it didn't go away. Despite the emotions she felt, the memories that awoke at the sight of a world overrun by the enemy, that warmth persisted, fluttering and leaping as she thought of him. Of course, the meaning of that feeling wasn't foreign to her. She had lived a life to a certain point, learning more than enough—even if it had stopped being meaningful once the Nihility began swallowing her more and more, dragging her deeper into its shadow.
Everyone had had their focus in two places, from Mark to their own battle. Seeing him fly in that manner made her feel a sense of pride—not in herself but in him—that he could become so much more. He made his vow to try and rid her of Nihility, to cleanse it fully—but seeing how recklessly he fought, different thoughts clashed in her mind. What if he would go as far as hurting himself for her? Of course, he had done that during the battle, but it was for everyone, not just her. The pain in such cases can be shared with the others present, whereas being the sole cause of one's collapse proved a weight beyond words.
Thus, they could all stare in that moment as their star sought to pierce the heavens for a moment before lowering itself into the realm of mortals, striking down the foe. Its light died out in a flash. She reached for her sword, ready to save him, to go after him, alas... Nihility would only help that beast grow stronger.
Horror. That's what they all felt as Mark's body was impaled and ran through the stomach with ease, like a skewer piercing a piece of meat. That second was a lapse in judgment, but one that was driven by emotions. She felt the Nihility get a stronger grip on her, even if for a moment. His lifeless body being tossed to the ground like a worthless piece of trash was enough to break her heart. She wished to run at his side, to be there, but they had more issues on their hands. In that second, the creatures closed in on them, engulfing the whole group in a dark dome where no light could creep in or go out.
Silent acceptance, followed by silence. No shouts, no tension, nothing. The images of his impaled body, a fading star in the sky, were still fresh in everyone's mind. March could be heard weeping softly, while everyone let out a few sounds pained with grief. Himeko bit her lips, struggling to keep herself together, but Acheron... what did she feel? The emotion ravaged her mind, sending her back to the days when she was busy saving her world. In the end, she had found herself in a similar silence, where just the soft sound of rain kept her company.
It felt like an eternity, but it was merely enough time for the realization to settle in—Mark was dead. Or so they thought. It didn't take long for the dazzling flames to come with a loud bang, one that brought about a heavy cost, his arm. He stood atop the barrier, alive, albeit barely from how he saw him. Flashing lights of dazzling crimson spun around him, coating away his suit of armor, turning him into a human fortress. The rest of the battle, she could only watch him give it his all, discarding bits of himself in an attempt to fend off his foe.
The whole group was rooting for him, watching from behind the barrier with a wide range of emotions, watching as he danced through the air with the mastery of an eagle, diving and lifting himself once more to swiftly dodge the swarming mess of tentacles. Her heart was beating fast—something that was so familiar yet foreign to the point of driving her crazy.
The moment that took them all by surprise was when he showed the world that mesmerizing spark of Light. Welt found it a bit odd that he was on Mark's list for his speech, while Black Swan was a bit baffled that he figured out something deeply rooted inside of her. Still, it only fueled her borderline obsession with him and what makes him the way he is. Acheron, however, saw nothing but the weight of his words and the sincerity in them. He wished to fulfill his promise, but the length at which he was willing to go in order to make it a reality was insane. He chose to bring harm upon himself for others.
In the moment the Light swallowed them whole, she could feel the Nihility weaken, lacking power over it. He spoke truth, and backed it with action, yet she merely felt saddened by everything. Who even gave him something in return? He had shown her gentleness, a form of love in itself, presented gently with adoring gestures and close contact when possible, and yet... she didn't want to be the cause of his pain.
"He'd probably burn himself to keep another one warm... I'm sorry, Mark, but I don't want you dying for my sake..."
As the Light faded, they saw him standing in the middle of the city, his right arm missing, his body slouched just a little. He moved for a bit until the Stellaron vanished, and he simply froze in place. Robin and Dan Heng dropped the combined barrier, and everyone made a run for him. Just like that, Acheron dashed ahead of everyone. She was getting closer to him, bit by bit, until she saw him turn around partially, throwing a tiny smile and a glance over his shoulder.
She returned the gesture, despite knowing that she had to put an end to something—if that something existed—as soon as possible. Just as their steps got them closer, he closed his eyes, falling like life was cut off from his body. The white substance he stood on just shot out, wrapping around him with pristine white tentacles, covering him fully until there was nothing but one large, white cube that allowed no glance at what was inside.
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