Chapitre 20: The Edge
*Kudos to Deadhead for figuring out a few of these things. I have my plot planned pretty nicely, especially the large things like this, but hey, he did figure out a thing or two along the way, just not fully. I respect that. Welp, today's chapter came in kind of late since I wasted my day by waiting for someone who didn't arrive anyway :)))
Welp, enjoy the chapter, and see you all next time. Peace out, and Deus vult*
It was a split-second decision on his side, one he didn't fully commit his mind to. Sure, try and follow the others, but how was he going to just push past the swarm of monsters? He'd just fluke it.
"I'm on!"
His metal pipe pointed to the ground, running right through the skull of a burning creature that resembled a Silvermane Guard, dropping it to the ground with a thud as loud as the one from his making contact with the ground. Relentless, he swung the weapon around, using its length to his advantage, hitting as many foes as possible with all his movements, his back put into it despite the pain.
It all slowly faded into unconsciousness—the pain, the fatigue—leaving nothing but him and the enemies before his eyes. They were many, but their mindless attitudes gave him an egde that he clung to with his teeth. One more hit, one more crystal bird on the ground. Another swing, and a poleaxe slid along the pipe, away from him, only for its other side to end up slammed against the side of the monster's head.
"What I need right now is an opening among their ranks. I'm trying to back out in the direction where the others went, but I can't do it fast since the monsters are plenty more than what I can chew."
He grinned, slowly coming to the realization that decisions taken on a whim under the effect of intense adrenaline aren't always the best.
"Soldiers, fire!"
Gepard's order rang out, and from all across the wall, the soldiers fired at the same time, clearing a path for him. No words were needed, since Mark knew exactly what to do. His legs took the lead, moving before his mind could order them to. It was his internal turmoil that guided his actions.
"Thanks, Gepard! I owe you one!"
Those were the last words that Mark said before dashing away from the mindless Fragmentum monsters, heading out on a way that was slowly coming back to him in the form of memories. Behind him, the soldiers kept firing, distracting the monsters and luring them away from him.
The moments became clearer, the blood that ran along his face scarce, just a few droplets as the memories and the actual action taking place around him began syncing up.
"I have to keep running, but damn, my stamina sucks ass even with those little enhancements I felt in myself!"
While fast since he was a kid, the fatal flaw that kept him down was the pain that slowly built up inside of him the more he ran. It was as if his heart and lungs couldn't keep up with the continuous intake and supply needed for his entire body. Still, he ran, giving it his all to interrupt a disaster. By the time he had caught sight of the other remnants of civilization, close to where those weird shadows of Cocolia and Bronya lingered, a large beam thundered down from the sky.
"Himeko. Damn it, I'm too slow!"
Time slowed down around him as he ran, feeling like everything would soon crumble down. He had little time left and no plan on how to save Cocolia. He knew how the battle would unfold, the memory more vivid than ever before.
He prayed silently, asking for strength and speed, to soar through the air and reach it in time. His muscles screamed in pain and agony, pleading with him to stop and recover, to stop the madness, and just accept that fate had to play out a certain way.
"Never!" he screamed out loud through ragged breaths. His head felt light, a mild dizziness setting in, all thanks to the lack of air and the strain he placed upon himself.
"Just a little more."
Those faint, whispered words kept him going. The staircase was in sight. The path to the Engine of Creation was visible. It was there, the large machine knelt down in silence, a testimony of its loss against humanity. Cocolia had lost the fight.
"There she is!"
He caught sight of her, kneeling on the ground, the powers of the Stellaron going wild within her, the burning image of pure energy, golden, warm, slowly seeking to destroy her. Bronya struggled against Seele's grip, hoping to save her mother from death's door. Serval watched in anguish from the side, both in awe at the sight and stung by guilt and memories of their beautiful past, their friendship.
Stelle carried the burning lance that she had gotten after nearly dying, using it to hold herself up. The Astral Crew was tired, too tired, the battle taking a lot out of them. Right as Cocolia held on to the clew of energy, listening to its voice to the very end, Mark dashed past Seele, doing the sole thing he could think of.
Cocolia's trembling eyes caught sight of him, a man she had never met, leaping through the barrier set by the foreign power she tried to wield, grabbing it out of her hands.
"The price you must pay, that's what your memories of the untold future are. I shall seal them partially, for balance must be kept within the world in order for the Laws of the World to not try and spit you out. Indeed, others of higher power might notice it, but I trust that they won't think much of you until you're capable of standing up against them."
The voice spoke in the dark once more, this time in its full glory, like the ravaging power of a supernova explosion molded into a voice. A purple cube, small in size, just as big as his heart, slowly came in contact with his chest, seeping into his flesh and bones.
"This is a Stellaron, not of this world, but of my own making. Within you, take this, for it will be the very thing that grants you power and your soul a glimmer of hope. Thread this path carefully, he who seeks to right what's wrong in the future of old, the one who seeks the ending in its true perfection."
Those were the words that carved themselves into his mind right before he woke up in the harshness of the Jarilo-VI winter. It was no different in that moment. He saw himself walking along an empty field, stepping on pristine snow that crunched softly beneath his feet.
"What is this place?"
He turned left and right, but nothing came into view, yet his ears did pick up more than they'd like. Whispers in all sorts of voices, that of children and elders, men and women of all ages. It was hellish, a cacophony of sounds tormented together. That's what the voice of the Stellaron was.
"What do you want from me?" asked Mark, gulping dryly at the thought that something like that hadn't happened in the game. He thought it part of his power, the one that had been implanted into him as a Stellaron of foreign origins.
"How bizzare, human. There's something odd within you, even by my standards. Burning bright, a fire that is your will, just like every human, yet much stronger for some reason. Next is a light that I can't make sense of. Lastly, that THING within you... who are you?"
The voices kept talking, ringing out from all sides, whispering echoes threatening to drive him mad. They surrounded him, sounding louder and louder, repeating the same last question over and over. If hell had a voice, it would be the one Mark heard.
"Damn you, I'm just a normal human."
That's the only thing it needed to hear. Images of his past flashed through his mind—failures upon failures, his very own nightmares that haunted him ever since he came into that world, amplified by the horror of countless voices that whispered around him. Slowly, the open field turned dark, leaving him in the middle of a snowy plain, victim to his own mind.
................................................................
Bronya had finally managed to slip from Seele's grip, reaching down to both Mark and Cocolia, who was staring at him with utter confusion. His body was on the ground, unconscious.
"Just... what happened?" asked Cocolia, her voice faint, lacking trust in her own mind. The voices had stopped.
"Mother!"
Bronya leapt in her arms, hugging her tightly, scared to let go just in case she'd do something like that again. In the end, no matter how many mistakes she had made, Bronya did care about her.
The battle had ended, but something was amiss.
"Mark!"
March walked over by his side, kneeling down to check if he still drew breath. Tired as they all were, Stelle and Dan Heng came there in a flash. He checked for Mark's pulse, ensuring that his vitals were at least showing some form of activity.
"He has a pulse, and it's slowly growing steady. He must have fainted from overexerting himself."
They all let out a relieved breath. Serval watched from their side, a small smile on her lips.
"He sure is something. Promised to save Cocolia, and here he is, knocked out cold after managing to do it against all odds."
Cocolia watched them, confused. She was finally realizing many things, the lies she had been told, how she had been manipulated, everything fell into place slowly. She knew she owed everyone more than just apologies, especially Serval.
Her lips parted, but no words came out. Their gazes met briefly, carrying along more words and feelings than an artist could ever hope to convey through their craft. Apologies wouldn't quite cut it, unless they came from the heart. In that moment, Cocolia chose to let go and show her vulnerability, an act she hadn't done in her entire life. Tears began streaming down her face, to everyone's surprise.
"Mother..."
Bronya's worried voice soothed her heart, only to nail it in place as she realized the weight of her daughter's love for her against the pain she's put her through. Her sins were heavy on her back.
"Cocolia... I know we have our past... our history that didn't end well, however... a certain someone..." her eyes fell on Mark, "asked me to try and forgive you... that certain someone did his best to save you, and here you are... so, let's start this from square one. How about it?"
She gave a soft smile, reaching out to Cocolia, who couldn't believe her senses. It was all like a beautiful dream that she never wished to wake up from. With a shaky hand, she reached out back, gently grabbing her second chance. Bronya helped her to her feet as well, holding back tears of her own.
Seele watched the scene unfold, her eyes reflecting how much joy she felt for Bronya, yet a pang of something did sting in her chest, but she quietly dismissed it.
Both March and Stelle held on to Mark, his head cradled in Stelle's arms. Slowly, he began moving, as if waking up from a deep sleep. His eyes opened, only to reveal a pair of glowing blue orbs instead.
"Ah, what a wonderful vessel."
His voice rang out, accompanied by the hellish sound of the Stellaron's own voice. Everyone bolted back, creating some distance between him and them.
"Mark, if this is a prank, it's not funny," said March, chuckling awkwardly at the current predicament.
"Oh, this vessel surely is doing no such thing. It's mine to use, and what a wonderful thing it is. Unlike that weakling over there who couldn't house my power, he's more than capable of it. The things within him are obscure, but welcome nonetheless."
He stood up, giving Cocolia a blank look, the pair of blue eyes glowing dimly. Those were not normal eyes. It didn't take an expert to notice such a thing.
"Prepare for battle," said Dan Heng, his spear ready at his side.
Chapitre 21: Sword of Will
*We've reached the moment I was waiting for. Let's see what you all think. It's one of the things I'm not really good at writing—some sort of battle scene that should have excitement and whatnot in it. I genuinely ask that you all let me know what you thought about the writing, and please be honest with it. If you want me to improve, you have to tell me what to work on :))
Until then, enjoy. Peace out, and Deus vult*
The darkness was engulfing him more and more as time went by. It was like fog, growing thicker as time trickled through his being. The onslaught against his mind was raging on like a tempest, ravaging all in its path.
"Damn my own mind..." muttered Mark, closing his eyes to block the images, but to no avail. The voices rang out even if he covered his ears, like phantasms phasing through existence. Somewhere, in a tiny corner of his vision, he could see everyone else outside, their weapons pointed at him.
"What's going on? Huh?"
The wave of confusion settled in worse than before, throwing off any sense of rationality that he held.
...................................
Stelle watched as Mark brought a hand up in the air, ushering the cold winds to his will. The winter around them grew harsher, colder, threatening to fully destroy what traces of life were left.
"Ah, freeze everything. Yes, yes, freeze eternally!" shouted Mark, the voices still echoing along his words, an otherworldly sound that defied norms.
"What do we do now? Mark is possessed or something," said March, bow at the ready. The truth is... no one knew. The logical course of action was to fight and take him down, but what if he'd die?
"We have no choice but to fight," said Stelle, the burning lance ready at her side, its fire crackling softly against the rushing winds.
"This is bad. We're tired as it is from our battle with Cocolia, and now we have to face an enemy that is, at the very least, on the same level as her Fragmentum-affected form."
Dan Heng's insight was on point, with the other facts about to prove themselves. Mark rose his hand up to the sky, stopping snowflakes in their descent. Instantly, they gathered together from all sides, brought in by strong winds that shaped them and molded the entire mess together. Two large swords glistered in the air, a mix of ice and Fragmentum crystals. The sheer size of those things was enough to raze a city to the ground.
"Son of a..." grunted Seele, her scythe not leaving her side.
"Time to show all of you, insignificant beings, what truly awaits this world."
Mark's hand slowly moved down, pointing at the others, the swords moving along with incredible speed. Everyone could only watch as it happened.
...................................
Mark's vision blurred out from tears of his own inability to help. He watched the scene, tiny as it was among the countless memories that tried to tarnish his being.
"No, don't you damned piece of shit!"
His pleas fell on deaf ears. The voices laughed at him, sounding both foreign and familiar at the same time. More memories of his failures piled up before him, blocking what little vision he had.
"God... I can't do this..."
He fell to his knees, the tears streaming down his face one by one, trickling on one cheek, then the other, flowing out endlessly.
"Perfect ending..."
Those words found their way among the sea of voices that ran rampant. Perfect ending—the thing he sought ever since entering the world. It was just the first step, and yet he wished to achieve it. He had saved Cocolia, so that alone was more than enough proof that he could change whatever 'fate' the world had.
"Not like it has a fixed fate, right? Kafka did say something like that..."
"Why struggle? Give yourself to me. It's not like you can do anything."
The spoken words echoed in the darkness, reminding Mark of many things. Still, there was one wish he held, accompanied by a feeling that he could never forget.
Countless nights spent alone, with nothing but an unsatiable urge to do something grand. The very world he was in only added to those feelings whenever something new happened, stoking his appetite for knowledge, for lore, for adventure. Trailblazing—that's one thing that he would have loved to do in his world, and he had now received the chance to do it.
The fire within burned brighter, engulfing him slowly. He stood up from his kneeling position, staring off into the darkness.
"The fire within burns brighter... it's what you saw, the fire of my will, paired with that One Light inside of me that's not of my own making. Truly, a human's nature is shown through adversity."
Mark's body was slowly burning brighter in a turquoise flame, pushing the darkness back.
...................................
March tried looking around for any direction they could flee in to avoid the attack. Mark's hand moved down, only to be grabbed and halted.
"By the name of the Amber Lord, what is going on?" asked Bronya, Cocolia leaned against her for support. Dan Heng's composed expression faltered for a moment. The one to stop Mark was himself. The left side of his body gave off a different aura; his left eye turned normal, leaving only the right one as a pale blue orb.
"Surprise, motherfucker. Thought you could take over me?"
His left arm clung even tighter, flexing as much as his muscles allowed to keep the right one from moving down. The swords stopped in the air as two wills collided in a single body.
"You! How did you!?"
The voices raged on with the winds, yet Mark's side of his own body smirked.
"The human will is a funky thing, if you ask me. Your downfall was trying to control me by doing what you did with the other Architects, stimulating their vulnerabilities until you could order them around."
Mark chuckled, slowly pushing the swords back as his right arm moved up.
"You see, I'm the type of guy who always keeps thinking about the failures of the past, the type of guy who does what you tried doing to me all by his own volition. You cannot exploit the wounds in my mind and heart because I'm always making them hurt on purpose."
Mark's left arm slowly caught on fire, the same turquoise fire from within showing out. It was all a battle of wills, something that happened inside his mind. The fire within, however, was as real as it could get.
"You, insignificant failure, do you deem yourself worthy!?"
More images flashed in Mark's mind, but he couldn't care less. In that very moment, he wanted his cool scene where he could show off a bit.
"No one's truly worthy, and yet we keep pushing. That's the power of the human will... the power of MY WILL..."
The fire burned brighter, moving along the rest of his body. It didn't hurt, but it did warm up his being, granting him strength. The purple streaks of light that moved along his body were slowly adapting the color of the fire, molding themselves to his will.
"Everyone, we need to move away! It's the same as what happened with Stelle on Herta's Space Station."
Quickly, everyone did as Dan Heng told them to, moving away. Bronya and Serval were helping Cocolia, holding her between them as they ran away. Seele moved as well, looking back at Mark only to see him smile to them.
"It's just us..." muttered Mark, enjoying the feeling of his body being bathed in the Fire of Will.
"NEVER! I SHALL TAKE THEM AWAY FROM YOU!"
The swords remained hanging in the air, yet the thing that sent shivers down Mark's back was the contaminated Engine of Creation. The giant mecha they had fought before his arrival stood up once again, this time covered by Fragmentum crystals at the joints, forcing it to move to the Stellaron's will.
"Damn you..." growled Mark, still clinging to his own right hand.
The Engine of Creation looked down and moved its hand up, ready to squish everyone.
"I... won't... let you DO THIS!"
Mark gritted his teeth and forced his body under submission.
"You're my prey, Stellaron! I RULE!"
His body touched the ground, flaming from head to toe. The Engine of Creation moved to attack, but Mark was quicker. He let go of his right hand, allowing it to fall like lightning, sending the giant swords flying into the mecha's side, sending it toppling down.
"This is my power, the power of my will."
He reached out and finally pulled out the sword he held sheathed on his back. The scabbard did its job, allowing the blade to easily come out. He pointed it at the mecha, looking at how long the blade is.
"Puny human, wishing to stand up against me with nothing but that!?"
The voices mocked him in their own way, crackling and rattling in the air, one with the wind. Mark smirked, staring at the sword once more. It was pretty large compared to what a normal one would be like, and yet he didn't mind. It was his own choice, after all.
"Yes, my sword... and my will."
He closed his eyes, holding on to the sword with both hands. The fire gathered together, moving along his body and onto the blade, attaching itself to it. Like a second layer akin to turquoise glass, the sword changed. The handle grew in size by half, while the guard got enhanced, with two thin lines of pure energy materializing.
The blade itself was shocking. It was a weapon of sheer size, as long as he was tall, with the phantasmic look to boot. It was a weapon fit for a true warrior, something he wasn't but hoped to reach at some point.
"Sword of Will..." he whispered, opening his eyes. He brought it up above his head, drawing out energy from within.
"I had a Stellaron inside, something odd even by this world's standards. Now, it's time you became part of it. You ARE inside of me; just accept defeat."
The Engine of Creation looked down at him, its eyes glowing in the same blue light that his had a while earlier. With a metallic shriek, it punched down, aiming straight at him. Mark scoffed, knowing that it was unavoidable.
"Sword of Will... Slice..."
He swung down, all the energy he could muster moving through his body, rendering it numb as the blade fell. Before his very eyes, it dashed across the open field, striking through the Engine of Creation, cleaving it in half. It all happened in a blink, ending with the machine being lifeless again.
"No... NO! IT CAN'T BE!"
His right eye was blue again, but the Stellaron was too weak to control his body again. It fought and struggled, but to no end.
"This is the end, you hear me?"
He burned bright again, like a human torch, his hand resting against his chest.
"Let's show you just how nicely my fire can warm up the world. After all, I did promise to do my best and fix stuff. I did tell Svarog about the sun, so let's show its beauty in a warmer world."
He took to the skies, a pillar of ice propelling him upwards right from beneath his feet. Like a shooting star, he burned across the sky, only that he flew upwards.
The Stellaron fell silent as Mark took a good look around, listening to the winds that raged, feeling the snow that managed to get close to him. His fire didn't melt the snowflakes—not yet.
"Fire of Will, melt this frozen world."
Through the ice pillar, right into the ground, the flames went with seething hunger, seeking to devour the cold. More energy burned from both Stellarons this time, a silent sign that he had managed to absorb the one that tormented Jarilo-VI for 700 years or so.
"With this... it's over..." he whispered, staring up at the sky. The clouds had dispersed, allowing the sun to peek down at the ground. Below, the snow gave way to small patches of green.
"Yes... I did it... something that the game couldn't... revitalized the planet faster... heh, thank you, God..."
His eyes closed, and he stumbled to the side, falling, his sword back to normal. It clung to his hand, gripped tightly by his unconscious hand. Below, everyone had gathered, ready to catch him. The trio from the Astral Express did a fine job of that, even if he still hit the ground.
"I guess you can't just expect to stop something that fell from THAT height," chuckled March, ensuring that Mark was ok. She flicked his forehead, but no answer. Stelle chuckled, while Dan Heng took his pulse again.
"Let's hope that this situation won't repeat. Considering what just happened, I have a lot of questions for him."
Mark simply breathed softly, sleeping. His body was given more than it could carry, leading to its slumber.
*little note: I'll try to do a 3D model of the sword and post it on Discord. Join to see it when it's done*
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
200+ Classement
Power Stone 
12 Power
stone 
Commentaire de paragraphe