Ga Rei: Exodus Nine (IC)

[Vritra]

Makoto Fujioka
Hungry Curses
Magatsu Aoyama

“Ah…”

An unexpected phrase spouted in recognition of an unexpected situation. Emotions like hungry fireworks exploded in its head, wills like grinding metals echoed in its ears yet one conflict was so very strangely absent… It had always been in conflict with

itself

another

yet where was that grating pressure now? Where… or, maybe it was who? The world warped and wavered in intoxicating clarity that laughed and laughed despite the self-destructive conflict that had escalated to even greater heights within its form.

Yes.

Kill

Laugh

,

defy

laugh

,

love

laugh

,

morm

laugh

,

dream

laugh

laughlaughlaugh LAUGH until everything falls apart! This was immutable desire and singular reason, it dreamed of

destruction

red

it was coloured

all thoughts led to malice

red

it born

as a weapon

red

and even if the entire world opposed nothing would change its desires, its hopes, it hunger because it was a

weapon

person

that would

always lose to itself

overcome anything

. Power was irrelevant, concepts were meaningless, all things would be overcome and all things be

cut down

embrace

. If it lacked the ability it would simply create it, grow, devour, meld, mold, create, force, destroy, and recreate this was its

cycle of destruction and creation

insanity

that would defy heaven and earth.

Drinking in the sights that existed above it it spasmed as wills conflicted and swords burrowed into the curses and souls of others. It couldn’t fully understand why some things

hungering love

hot

and some

weeping hatred

cold

but it didn’t care for it could see

The one who must be devoured

HIM.

“
Ä̧̠̮͇͈͖́̏ͭ̀̃ả̧͍̯̞̊ͪ̓̈ͫ̐a̰̗͕͈͛ͮͫͧ̍͛å̸͓͛ͥ̊ȁ́͑ͧ͂ͫ͊ ͡A̫͖̩̥͠A̓ͩͦͮ͛ͣ̚͏̙͔A̛͑̋a̟̻͕̻͡a̡̗͔̖̝͛̒̐ͅa̤̒̔͊͌̍̎͛a̎͛ ̪̦̹̦͍̰ͪ̽̍̓͜a͓̲̖͔̙͐̈͊ͫ͌̍ͅǎ̵̹̟͊ͪA̘̘̤̩͈̙̳̎͗̄̉ͫͣ̀a̶͍̯ ͖̱̻A͋́͂́ȧ̓̌̚A̿҉͚Â͕̘̮̦̦̭ͩ͊ͅĂ͉̝͎̝̠͉ͭ͛̓̇ͨͅA̩͇̤̓̃̿̐ ̪͚̗Ȁ̬̟̠̘̚A͡A̴͓̬͇ͤ̑̿ͬ̽͌͂A͕͇̟̗̘ͅA̱ͩ̏̍ąå̘͇͊͒̍̂̂̎ͅa ̨ͫͯͤ̒ͯ̄̿a̘̯̘͓̦̫a͇̣̥ͮ̎͒̌̍̄ȧ̱̼̲̃̄͂å̼̯̯̗͎ä͇͎̣́͗̈͊ͪ̊ a̬͓̙̦͊̏ͯ͟A̙̺̓͂͛͆ͫ-


Letting lose a droning metallic laugh it rocked forward with a disturbing grace that defied the spasms that had just gripped it to smash its foot into the ground with full force. Producing shockwaves of physical force and spiritual energy it spread them through and reflected them off the ground to launch the sea of mud around it upward.


-H̟ạ̸͓̣͔͔̖̑̿ͦͧ̓ͮ̚h͉̞͔̲̝̠͙̀̉ͯ̃̑ǎ͍͚̃̅͘h͎͓͍͈͇̗A̱͇̭̹͜ ͔̺h̩͐͒a̴͇̺̩̒Ḣ͇͙̘͊̊ͬ̽́ͅa̡̼͇͈̳̩̺ḫ̾ͩ̓͠A̡̮̻ͧ̋ͣͨḧ̏̐ͭ ͕̘a̷̯̝̬̤̫̣ͬ͆ͯ͋͊̓Ă͖̺̣͉̗ͦ̑̈͠H̦̫͉̹̰͈͠A̠̰̠̗͒́͋̚H̔́ͬ̚̕ ̖̰͎̜̩̝͇ạ̜͇̹ͬ̓̄̉ͭ̋͘A̷̜̞̹͈͓̭͚͑ͯH͗҉͚̹̜̼̣̰͙h͓̳̞̪a̸̻̝̾ ̮͔̦̗ḫ̟̖̳̊A̰͖͉̰͐͡ͅḢ̩͓̱̿̌͌ͦ̀͘A̟̝͛̃́̌ͣ̀H̛̖̬̮̰A̓̒̒͐̒ ̘̮̄̆H̬̰͍͙̬̯̤ͥ̏̓A̙̪̹̙̍͂ͬͬ̃̚H̼͉À͎͔̱̤̱͛͘H̬ͭͧͤ͂ͮͩ̅Aͫ̄ ̶̗̥̙̓̉ͫH͖̄͐̊A̮ͦ̓!̛̓̈́ͤ̒̏”


Laughing maniacally its face distorted into a grin as it stood in that floating sea of mud. Killing intent bloomed like twisted flowers as it spun around to warp the sea of mud into a whirlpool until satisfied it threw the whole thing into the sky as it set it ablaze with its dark flames, a burning black waterspout of curses and resentment that served as a means of attack and mockery towards everything else.

Let it rain, let everything, let everyone drown because I shall cut everything down!

Charging upward with single minded power that threw away idea of grace or finesse it became a burning cutting meteor to challenge the

Chronos

accursed thing about it.

“A̛̤͖̲̙̥̝a̮͚͈̥̘͛̎a̠͉̳̬̒ͮ͐A̟͖͓̗̺͇̗̿̒A̬̘̖̪̙̿͌̍̏ͩͣͥÄ ̙̈͆a͉̜͈ͣ̀͐̈̉͊A̦̣͚͕̅ͯͥ͒̿̄̆A̷͆Ȧ͓̔Ã͍̲̯̙ͫ̔̓̀̓̒͘a͈̰͚a ̙͇͕̼̞̠̆̅̀̌̽̽͟ͅa̫̭͇͈̘͈̬ͭ̉̔͆́ ̢̞͓͚͇̍̌̌̉ͅ~~̡͒̅́̽͒ͦ~̘̝̙̙̜̪̂͑͌”


Basking in the intoxication of its feelings it’s

swords

teeth

latched onto debris around it and swerved at the last moment.

A petty trick, since when was it only capable of mindlessly charging forward? Since when did it lack any finesse? This was only natural, this movement and finesse wasn’t a simple skill it was just an expression of how it was supposed to be from the beginning.

A whirling dance of countless swords that encompasses the entirety of the gods form as it fully affixed its

Observation

gaze

upon the enemy before for a simple proclamation.

FALL TO PIECES!

[Airen]

Mikagura Mika & Medrod Pendragon
Crawling Chaos


The moment the boy speaks, the Faceless God steps forward with an almost casual grace.

In spite of it's name, it is not something that people cannot truly understand; there is something built within the hearts and psyches of all humans that goes cold at the thought of coming across this thing, in the "old worlds" even the "other selves" of people, selves that had taken on the mimicked powers of Gods and Demons alike, would quake in fear the moment they sensed it was nearby.

It is Nyarlthotep, the Crawling Chaos, the Faceless God, the 'monster called oneself.'

While people may wish to deny it, they cannot, there is no way not to understand that what one faces is an incarnation of "themselves." It was a manipulator and planner, a God that had hidden away in the world full of humans because it itself was ultimately 'human,' as well as a God. It is the one that quietly gathered grudges until the Kyuubi was eventually born, it is the one that implanted the idea of summoning the Kyuubi to combat the demons eight years ago, it is the 'nameless shadow' that tore apart all those it could get it's hands on that day, it is the one who coerced Amatsu into breaking a seal that it could not, it is the one that summoned avatars from the muck to wipe out humanity.

Even now it rains nothing but curses and hate all around the world; even so, despite this-

Humanity holds it's resolve together remarkably well before it; some of them -fools- accept him for what he is without fear, while others simply assume that he is an opponent that can be beaten if they simply work together.

...These past few weeks, or perhaps simply this night... Has given humans a sort of bravery.

At least that is what they believe; in reality, all the God sees is an amazingly blind arrogance.

They have forgotten fear.

They have forgotten what it means to stand before a God and tremble in despair, to pray that they are overlooked because fighting back is not an option that is available to them.

Yes.

They have forgotten; it understands; after all it is them, in a sense it could even be called proud that they had made it this far, this indignation would not exist otherwise, but even so-

-It steps forward, merely a single step.

"...Pendragon."

But that step carries it right to the youth's shoulder.

While it holds no weapon, there is absolutely no flaw within it's stance. The movement is comparable to teleportation -one moment it was a good twenty meters away, and the next it is right before him- but the instincts of a trained swordsman create a possibility to counter even against that impossible speed; the singularity gives you strength, the hopes and wishes grant you the power to at least match this incarnation of humanity, but-

The reflexive blow with a sword is met with only a single grasping hand on it's edge; no matter how much strength is pumped into you, or how much Lightning emerges to assault the God's featureless body, it does not budge the Crawling Chaos in the slightest.

Ah...

But perhaps that is only natural...

The heart's reflection does not yield so easily.

"You have poor taste in funeral music."

(BGM On)

"Perhaps sparing you that day was a mistake."

---Even in this, it is human.

...In that it mocks you in a very human way even as it moves to end your life. In the heartbeat after your own reflexive strike, before your thoughts can catch up, before fear or merely a continued resolve can blossom into some sort of miracle or a sudden crippling defeat, the God's hand curls into a solid fist that strikes you just above your solar plexus.

Fueled by wishes from all around the world, it should not be enough to move you from where you stand; and yet, it's grip on your body invites a strange sense of weakness as the sheer "willpower" behind that strike lifts you into the air anyway, the protective silver flames surrounding your form flickering in his presence as if they were destabilizing, the faceless silhouette merely chuckling to itself as a second fist is drawn back.

"You will not match me, nor will you exceed me. No matter how fast your light travels, it will always find that darkness has arrived first and is waiting for it."

-This God does not lie.

It is the World's Darkness made manifest in a singular being, a possibility of what you could see if you happened to look too deep into your own reflection, the true form of the darkness that exists in the stagnant unconsciousness; in a certain sense it could be called an Eclipse User all it's own, a walking mass of negativity and "willpower" that sought one thing and one thing only...

The destruction of this world.

It would not allow it's plan to be ruined right at the end; if the Kyuubi was incapable of doing the job, then it would step up and take it's place.

However-!

"Tch-!"

Before the second strike can send you flying across the space a golden barrier erupts right in front of your airborne body and accepts the strike, shattering to pieces in your place:

It's a form of irony.

Yes.

Liane Cross, the girl that had constantly seemed determined to blow off one of your legs whenever she saw you, had just automatically moved forward in an attempt to defend you. Her reaction is not slow; indeed, acting fast enough that she is able to block one of the soul-shattering blows, the strange sense of helplessness that had started to wash over you seems to fade the instant it is no longer allowed to simply pin you down by 'yourself.'

Even so-

Shattering her Eclipse Ability with it's bare featureless hands, you are able to recover control of yourself the moment you touch ground again, and your automatic attempt at retaliation falls in line with her own strike; but while it's domination doesn't feel quite so absolute when you attack it together, the God still manages to grasp your wrists with a remarkable ease, bringing momentum to a stop as it yanks the both of you towards itself, bashes you together with extreme force, before hurling the two of you as a singular bullet into a nearby house.

"Liane!"

"Med-!"

It's an unbelievably fast retaliation, a casual walk through the two ESPers most suited to defending the others in this group, and indeed, the moment those two vanish from the front of the battle-

"Now, understand humans, I wasn't asking you to die, you simply have no further choice in the matter."

==Trial of Darkness==

"Now, bearers of 'hope', disappear-! Die holding my highest praise-!"

It had been being a bit more fair at the start of things, but it seems the continued defiance has convinced it to simply murder everyone right at the start.

Yes.

This time there is no chance to evade or deflect the attack with starlight; from the start it was that sort of power, something that would continue to pursue you until it inevitably caught you and burned you to nothing. It is formed from a pure malice that will not simply disappear, up until now you had been able to stave off the power of the dark by turning those that had been cursed with it away from it, but this...

It wants this, it exists purely to do this...

It will not stop because it is reminded of the other side of humanity, from the start it is only the darkness, it spits on the concepts of other things and seeks only to crush them to prove a point.

That this is humanity's essence.

Destruction, pure destruction.

Even so, the starlight remains defiant even in the face of a destructive force they cannot negate; while black flames light up everyone's body immediately, the starlight serves as a dampener of sorts that keeps those who bear 'hope' from simply disappearing immediately; it may only be able to delay the onset of death for minutes at best, but it is still a form of delay, a form of resistance, and in that-

"...It seems strongest in one-on-one confrontations."

Adjusting his glasses, completely calm even though his ethereal existence has been set aflame as well, the father remains strong and collected for the sake of his daughter, even as a Demon is forced to retreat inside or risk destroying both itself and it's Master.

This was not the God that had haunted his dreams in life, but even so...

...Like hell he would let it just hurt his family like this; indeed, an alchemist by nature, he is already breaking down it's weaknesses for the purpose of finding a fatal point. While he is capable of creating weapons on the spot through a combination of alchemy and magic, the fires consume all but the strongest artifacts in but a few moments; of course, sensing Sora's possession of his old weapons, they become wings of steel that surround his family on all sides as both sword and shield-!

"This is a bit of a messed up joke for a family reunion... But it looks like it can't be helped."

Miwa doesn't laugh, but she doesn't seem worried either; pulling you up to your feet, and holding you close to her chest, rapier held out to oppose the enemy.

In the end, that's a special power of parents that only ever seems to apply to their children.

So long as they are there, the feeling of "everything will turn out fine," becomes a powerful barrier against despair, even so...

It may simply be an illusion.

"Coordinated strikes huh..."

In the end, Mikagura Miwa was simply a swordswoman of borderline insane talent with a sword capable of freezing it's targets; even so...

"It's in the way, so I suppose we'll just have to run him through together."

She does not falter even as a spirit.

Her smile is infectious, and grinning himself-

"...I suppose we must."

They await the agreement of the one they have decided to protect no matter what, as Beacon sputters back to life of it's own accord.

Meanwhile...

Medrod Pendragon and Liane Cross rise to their feet as fast as their bodies will allow, Liane stumbling back up with a shattered leg even as Medrod rises more or less intact; just like the others they have caught flame, unlike the others the amount of time they can endure this before expiring is much higher, but by that same token-

---The pressure of that knowledge could weigh heavily on those minds.

She raises her gun.

It's a familiar gun.

The Faceless God appears in her sights.

"I'll cover your approach. It shouldn't be able to just ignore this...!"

She has no intention of staying in the back lines, but seeing as how she can't move effectively enough to throw a punch at the moment, she also refuses to just sit back and let her body heal without doing anything about the enemy.

In the distance, through the flames...

Approaching Nyarlthotep's figure, a different sort of flame catches fire as a certain youth you had left behind in your own dramatic charge, grips his blade with an absurdly casual grace.

[Airen]

Chronos & Nakahara Katsuro & Saki Ryuumonbuchi & Makoto Fujioka
'Titanomachy'

The moment he disregards their presence is the moment they choose to strike.

"I see... Observation."

The youth that he had thrown to the shadows had emerged as a monster of human willpower, an entity that existed merely to cut down the things that it could reach; while the God had initially wondered why the youth had not forcefully pulled himself from the mud upon plunging into it, the sight that lies before his eyes is either that of a willing vessel, or someone who had thought to control that curse only to find that humanity is not the sort to allow itself to be bound forever.

Regardless of the true line of reasoning...

"But allowing that purely for the sake of gaining more power? Pathetic... And pointless, I have cut you down when you were far stronger than this, turning yourself into a monster to oppose me will not lead you to victory."

In the end it is dismissive of it's opponent's actions, but does take note of it's newfound power.

Rather than Eclipse the boy was using the Curse, and fundamentally speaking they followed similar paths to power. While the God had upped the strength of it's barriers after it's last exchange with Nakahara, it is not arrogant enough to completely dismiss the whirling avatar of destruction that has started it's path towards him. The 'idea' that binds that entity is obvious, bearing the 'will' to 'cut' through whatever gets in it's way, the God chooses to respect humanity's willpower and immediately disregards the idea of traditional barriers.

The youth will simply cut through them; so long as something exists for it to cut, it will likely be able to do so, at least to a certain degree...

It's body is no different.

Even so it is not worried, while Nakahara has paused to observe the status of his fallen student, the God begins to unleash more of it's divine power in response to all the spiritual signals erupting around it in the area. The weight that appears is staggering, like the planet itself has dropped on the shoulders of everyone nearby, and yet none of them cease in their sudden aggression towards the 'Lord of Heaven.'

However, it does not doubt it's ability to deal with all newcomers in but a flurry of motion.

It will defeat them all in but a few heartbeats.

While he is known as a God of Time, in reality, Space also falls under his dominion as well; the moment the transformed Makoto Fujioka begins his furious charge towards him, accompanied by endless mud and fire, he traps them all in a separate 'space' all their own, a dimensional bubble from which there is no way to reach an exit or entrance, an infinitely expanding space that existed only to prove it's own 'superiority' as the 'Strongest God,' the God that had devoured and assimilated all others in an attempt to make it's own power equivalent to that of it's 'other self.'

However, merely creating that sort of spacial trap is not enough.

Humans are the sort to fundamentally do their best to break impossibility, with the sheer mass of 'Will' that is pushing at the youth's back, it is not just a possibility but a certainty that the chaotic murderous mass would eventually 'cut' it's way out of that infinite space and reach him, which is why a second spell is necessary to completely seal the boy's fate.

==Gears of Time==

It's signature spell that ensured all who faced it must perish. It is a countdown to the end, the equivalent of someone being given prior warning about the fact that they will soon be erased from the story called 'life.' Just as a character in a novel can do nothing to stop their author from erasing them, so too are the souls helpless to keep themselves from falling prey to this absolute force in spite of their 'Observation.'

It is not just that their aren't enough of them.

Everyone and everything will die eventually.

Humans cannot undo that truth no matter how determined they are, they are transient beings who were built with flaws to keep them from overpowering their Creator; because of that deep understanding that they must die one day, there is nothing they can do to defy it, at best, they can delay it, push it into the future to deal with it at a later date -and indeed, the strongest last the longest when struck with this curse- but-

Because he finds the youth's 'current self' somewhat distasteful, the God purposefully puts enough power in it to ensure his existence will expire in the next five seconds. It does not matter if he manages to 'cut' his way out of the false world in that time, the curse of mortality will claim him long before he reaches the God, thus the monster's existence immediately fades from it's mind.

"Gotcha-!"

To be replaced by the feeling of arms gripping him from behind, arms from an individual of surprising strength moving to put him in a muscle lock, whose presence it had not been able to read up until this point.

The immediate crippling 'fear' is that the one who had caught him is Zeus, but it is a fear that is quickly assuaged; destined to be cut down by own children due to humanity's legends, his 'direct descendants' held certain advantages when facing him. He had trouble sensing them, his magic lost much of it's effectiveness and strength, and being struck by their attacks was the same as being struck by a poison that targeted the nerves; however...

He had killed all of them already specifically to avoid this scenario, and yet-

"...Ah."

He understands when he sees that face.

Her hair, his own eyes.

He had always wondered where Nakahara's 'daughter' had emerged from in the cycles, but it seemed she had simply been a child that his summoner had entrusted to her old high-school teacher, wary perhaps, of the role the father always held in legends, or perhaps simply wishing for her daughter to be able to live in a world outside of this endless cycle of little but violence.

Yes.

The woman pinning his arms is certainly a demigoddess of his own making, his daughter, even so-

He forcibly removes her from his form with a blistering series of strikes.

Unwilling to hold back even if it is his own kin -and yet failing to recognize that he only strikes her physically rather than magically and is thus holding back- the God turns his gaze to the last of his approaching opponents; not the three clones that have bound his speed with overlapping seals, but rather the true from of Saki Ryuumonbuchi that comes at him from far above the others.

Yes.

It held some pride in it's ability to see through others.

Ultimately, as a God, even when it's abilities are this heavily dampened the difference between itself and humans is too much for the gap to be crossed so simply; while the seals are certainly binding him to a degree, the fist that rises -charged with enough force to scatter even the toughest ESPer to the winds- is more than enough to reduce all of the clones to dust along with the original, but-

What he sees is not Saki Ryuumonbuchi.

The fist stops.

It is only for an instant, but it stops; recognizing his Summoner, or rather the woman he had done all of this for, to protect her happiness and make her dreams come true, it is only natural for it's instincts to force it to stop.

It was proud of being able to see through humanity's tricks, but ironically enough...

Nyarlthotep's one and only contribution to this fight is a trick, a mere illusion placed over Saki Ryuumonbuchi's body, that it can't help but fall for-

The scythe descends.

Even so, even so...!

Surpassing impossibility itself, the God manages to recover even though it's guard had been completely down for a moment; since Saki Ryuumonbuchi is not used to fighting in this manner, her strike was a bit too slow to follow up on an opportunity many others would have pounced on, and thus, check-

-Mate?

Something cleaves this his arm.

Makoto Fujioka -someone who should have expired eight seconds ago- cleaves through the arm as a mere prelude to it's destructive whirlwind; it should be impossible, but-

The ESP of Nakahara Katsuro is 'Redirection,' and his Eclipse Ability... Well...

He claimed that it extended the range of his ESP and nothing more, but stepping back to let his students charge forward as they would like, it seems that the teacher had simply redirected the 'burden' of 'Gears of Fate;' to himself.

And the amount of power needed to kill him within five seconds was far more than what had been used for Fujioka, enough that, now that it has come to this, it seems it won't matter.

"Don't touch my students, Chronos. You know how I get."

From the start, he had not known if his students would appear here; in fact, it was important that he did not know, if he had, Chronos would have seen through him right from the start. Right until the end he had to appear as someone who would shelter the kids beneath his watch from anything, that was always how he had been, risking himself rather than them, and as long as that appeared to be an absolute truth, Chronos would never expect him to allow them to come to his aid, let alone give them weapons designed specially to defeat him.

And in a sense he was right.

He would protect these students no matter what, but more important than that, he had decided to allow them to pursue their future with their own hands.

If they wanted to chase him into battle, then so be it.

It was dangerous in a number of ways, but as a gamble-!

"...!"

Sensing two incoming attacks, the God relies on instinct to avoid the one that is more obviously dangerous, brimming with the most spiritual power; avoiding Makoto Fujioka's follow-up strikes, a spinning kick generates enough air-pressure to launch the avatar of the Curse into the distance but-

"...What...?"

-He picked the wrong one to avoid.

The moment he left it up to fate after crushing Saki's attempt at time magic, the outcome had become a more unfavorable one, if anything...

He should have accepted Makoto's strike dozens of times over before accepting this one.

If his Summoner had been here this never would have happened; he had forgotten the strength that comes with the unity of fighting alongside one's summoner, and in that regard, it should not be surprising that this small series of team-work fueled miracles had managed to pierce it's defenses, he had fallen because he had wanted to protect his Summoner above all else, but even more than that-!

"...I see. So this is your 'future' Nakahara?"

"...Of course."

"Haha... Well then, I hope you understand what it is you've done here. You've got one shot."

"...Yeah, I get it."

A light burns up from within it's body.

"Forgive me, Chiyoko... It seems I got careless."

It's body erupts with many colors from the wound as countless bound spirits are incited to rebel from within it's body; all those that do not belong find an exit to the outside, all the demons and Gods that had been removed for Humanity's sake find themselves traveling back to the Shadow Vortex, their passing cracking the sky even further, but-

Even that void was preferable to being kept prisoner.

Amidst the light of millions of freed demons and gods, the Lord of Heaven falls to the ground without his body disappearing, and along with his fall...

"..."

A teacher silently stands, watching the body, but when Saki moves...

A hand slowly pushes her behind his back.

[Airen]

Hitoshira Nagi
Battleship S.L.E.I.P.N.I.R - Rothschild Mobile Base

She listens with a smile, just as she had done the last time.

While you know she knows what has happened, the eagerness that comes with telling her about it face to face is enough to elicit an almost child-like excitement in you that she feels no need to stop.

Yes, while the night is far from over, while the struggle is far from over.

It is fine for you to feel good about what you achieved, she is proud of you, proud of many of the people that stood up to do the right thing tonight, and while she cannot say for certain whether or not it will be enough to change fate...

She is someone who will believe until the very end; even if she cannot truly reach any of you from where she is, on a beach, on an island, a long long way from here, in a different sort of world entirely.

"I cannot reach you where you are," closing her eyes, the girl states a truth that she has never managed to change in spite of the constant repetition; she is someone that can only observe the story, she cannot directly interfere, even if she could it may not be right to do so, but even so... "But I will continue to watch until the end. This time, even if I find the page blank, even if the screen goes dark, I will continue to watch everyone until the very end."

...She has taken up that sort of task for herself.

It is difficult to tell what sort of meaning it has as a task... Is watching over others enough to change things?

It's not that she cannot say, rather, she chooses not to say.

However, it is for the best of humans that she does things in this way.

The change in fate will only have meaning if they choose it for themselves.

[Spinach]

Saki Ryuumonbuchi

A large, weathered hand, older than she could possibly think, slowly, gently pushed her back, shielding her from the fallen God. Or perhaps, to keep her from interfering.

The momentum of the strike had carried her past the God of Time, the Masterless passing through Chronos’ body in a crimson arc lined with umbral flame.

How many miracles were at play to give this single advance?

Chiyoko, the Curse-ridden, Nyarlathotep, Nakahara, and Belial. All had converged upon this single moment, seized a single opening, grasping together the lone chance to open the door to the future.

But the clock won’t stop ticking.

“Sensei?”

She speaks to the back before her, the teacher between herself and the Lord of Heaven. The man who had orchestrated everything to lead to this moment. More than a teacher, he could be called the ultimate gambler. How many coincidences had he relied upon to build this outcome, this chance? Or was it more than a gamble, simple trust in her, and the others, to arrive here?

She couldn’t know. Those questions could come later.

Because the clock is still ticking.

Her attempt at using it had been denied, but the power of Eclipse still coursed inside of her. But only until her body reached its limit.

She wouldn’t fall and be relegated to a bystander.

This fight belonged to everyone. Including her.

Peeking out from behind the man’s back, her eyes fell onto the fallen God, still clutching the weapon in her hands.

[Verg Avesta]

Medrod Pendragon
Crawling Chaos

"Tch... That smarts...!"

The sheer power of this enemy, this Faceless God, was something that could stand up to the concept of 'Equal in Power'. There were many things Medrod could have deduced from that, but for now, he had no time. Instead he climbed up from the rubble of the building that he and the Witch had been thrown into. He felt his own body already being repaired by his power, therefore he instead hastily looked at his current 'partner' in this fight -a form of irony if any- and if she was doing alright. Sure enough, she had taken plenty of damage, but was still capable of standing and natural healing. It did tell a strange story of how much things had changed considering she had taken an strike for him, and that he was no worried about her well-being. This night had turned the world inside out, in more ways than one.

Still, something bothered Medrod momentarily.

Something the Faceless God had said.

"Perhaps sparing you that day was a mistake."

It made something in his mind shiver, just a little bit.

No. There was no need to think about it.

The only thing he needed to focus on was this battle.

Black flames licked their bodies, trying to eat away the starlight. But there was still time... for now. For them, there was more of it. In other words, if Medrod wanted to make sure that nobody paid a price too high, he'd have to redirect the Chaos' attention back to himself. He was durable, much more than most. He would be able to take a few more attacks, make sure that others would get their bearings again. That meant throwing himself back in the fray, to attack the enemy again and again and not leave it a chance to target multiple individuals.

"I'll cover your approach. It shouldn't be able to just ignore this...!"

It seems that the Witch read his mind.

"He won't. He hasn't got the luxury," Medrod grunted back.

His heels dug into the rubble while blue and red screamed in his veins. A distance so long was reduced to nothing under his charge, taking Medrod from where had been thrown right into the face of the Faceless God. Chrysaor sang and lightning roared as he weaved a web of strikes around his opponent, trying to catch him from just about every side. When with an usual opponent, the power within him, that Singularity of Willpower that accelerated wishes, made him equal to them in power, capable of defeating any threat to those from whom he got his power. But in this Chaos' case, it seemed that there was no upper limit. Was there even a power to match? Whatever the case, Medrod would use every ounce of it to defeat this opponent.

Not with just his sword.

But his words as well.

"You keep yapping on about darkness," Medrod growled in-between his attacks of sky-rending lightning. "Light, darkness, good, evil, human, demon... There's nothing special about any of them. They exist just like anything else in this world."

It was finished up with an attack meant to cleave his form in half.

"--- They're just monikers used by the naive!"

It might have been a brilliant attack, with nothing left to chance and executed with utmost technique and physical prowess. It might have been performed in junction with Liane's covering fire, making use of her attacks to deliver slashes, lunges and cleaves that left no method to evade or to parry. It might have been delivered with enough power to make each and every one of those attacks a killing blow. It might have utilized all of Medrod's resources from the blue and red in his body to the silver starlight, to even the levin-licked Chrysaor he was carrying. Indeed, it might have been a combination of factors that made it look like an absolute attempt to end the Faceless God then and there, no matter how great his power.

But still... it was merely a distraction.

Medrod had noticed something.

For all his bluster and all his bravado, this 'God' had decided to parry his attacks instead of taking them head-on. Were it all-powerful, it would have no need for something like that. Were it invincible, it would not need to defend itself, even if in such an arrogant manner. Were it omnipotent, nothing they could do would bother it in any way. Yet it needed to move to him. Yet it needed to block his attack. Yet it needed to get him and Liane away as if their presence could hamper it.

Therefore, it would not be able to ignore these attacks.

Leaving perfect chance for Kazuya to attack him from the other side.

Even a 'God' drunk with its own self-righteous hubris and power would not be able to ignore sword with weight of the world put behind it.

... No.

This was no God.

Medrod realized it the moment he was face-to-face with Nyarlathotep: The Reverse of Oneself.

The fact that it was so 'human' made it more dangerous and more fearsome than any deity. Yet at the same time, this simple realization evaporated all fear that Medrod felt in the back of his mind.

A Deity's motivation could not be understood by mortals. While this... this was all too human in what it was.

Therefore, Medrod could only say one thing to the Chaos he confronted.

"Stop throwing a temper tantrum, you petulant child, and grow up."

[Vritra]

Makoto Fujioka
Hungry Curses
Magatsu Aoyama

Stand up.

Gazing down at the fallen body a strange emptiness begins to blossom.

Is this it…

Is that all that was needed…

Was that all

I

It

could do…

Twisting its head as if to see through some grand illusion it stared, stand up. Jumping up to a higher vantage point as if to see through some grand illusion it stared, stand up. In the disquieting silence as swords click like grating gears a single thought kept repeating itself.

Stand up, stand up, stand up, stand up I want to cut you, stand up I want to hack you up, stand up I want to devour your spirit. Frustration, bloodlust, hunger, each thought thundering like a heartbeat as a red stained seeped through the emptiness of its victory.

Swords twitch and spasm as they sprout and rearrange themselves in an effort to better enable its bloodlust and raising its hand into the air it declared its hunger

Stand up and die.

Malicious and hungry swords twist and meld in its raised hand to produce a barbed lance dredged up from memories of apocalypse and fire. Cursing mud summoned from rampant unfulfilled hostility is compressed until it becomes a bomb within it as the lance is tempered in unyielding black flames.

Mere moment of weren’t enough, these feelings, this impulse, this purpose longed for more. The air, the buildings, the land, the people there was still so much more, anything and everything still surrounded it and occupied its mind and most of all…

He. Was. Still. There.

A scream of grinding metal as it braced and threw its weapon with devastating strength. Cut, sever, shear, rend, drink, drown and die endlessly.

[Airen]

??? & Nakahara Katsuro & Saki Ryuumonbuchi & Makoto Fujioka
'Record Keeper'

Why does the teacher not attack the body?

While the mannerisms he had held against the God had held a hint of friendliness to them, a sort of undertone that revealed the two had some sort of relationship outside of being simple collaborators, such an existing friendship should not keep him from finishing a battle that has been clearly won... From the start it was a fight that Nakahara Katsuro had picked for himself, one that he had wished could have gone another way, but one that he had ultimately accepted as the only way to protect the "future" his students had begun walking to of their own accord.

Therefore, if his resolve was great enough to carry him this far, was it a final mercy towards a friend that stayed the hand?

The body was not dissipating, of those that were heavily influenced by the supernatural, falling apart into spirit particles was one of the most reliable sources to tell that one's opponent is deceased instead of simply unconscious; this is no different for Demons or Gods, those that bear as much spirit power as they do have no choice but to evaporate in their final moments, the soul taking the body along with them.

Therefore, the opponent is not dead.

Therefore, he should do something, move to strike in some way to finish the job, and yet...

He does not.

It takes awhile to understand why, but the first signs are of the change in the teacher's demeanor; up until now he had bore an aura of absolute confidence even when facing a God that he knew from personal experience to be much more powerful than himself... And the appearance of his students had led to a less bitter way of bringing things to a sort of conclusion, but...

Now the aura is that of uncertainty.

The teacher's expressions had always been either serious or joyful, but now it is neither, now it would not be out of place to see the body break out in a sweat as unease washes over everything but the pure resolve that keeps him standing, because...

From here on out...

Everything is a real gamble.

A silent spell is cast on Saki; a simple spell of 'Eternity' to keep her body as it is now; while the spirits are pushing things because the world is at stake, allowing them to do as they like to that body for much longer would result in someone so broken they are unable to defend themselves.

Right here and now, that is the same thing as a death sentence.

The body moves.

It is a slow movement, a casual movement, one that allows plenty of time to intercept, to knock the God back down before it rises to it's feet, but only one moves to do so as his mind fails to recognize what to all the others is completely obvious.

No matter how casual the movements are, there are absolutely no holes in that entity's stance.

The sense of 'power' that had dropped to something close to zero with the release of the Gods and Demons steadily begins to rise again as it seemingly regains it's consciousness; horrifically, when it reaches the same sense of 'pressure' it had held before, it surpasses itself and reaches heights so absurd that they eventually cannot be comprehended by the sixth sense and merely become an otherworldly 'blur' a sickening blight on the world that you cannot understand but also cannot find it in yourself to ignore.

"..."

It's body does not change, still an unassuming dark-haired man in the guise of a police officer, the tatters that have become it's black jacket tear off from the storming winds and fly out into unknown space, and finally...

Finally...

"...So this world of errors... Is not yet dust...?"

The entity that is no longer Chronos speaks to all who would listen, unlike Chronos whose words had bore a certain warmth even as he opposed others, the one that speaks now simply seems indifferent to everything that is going on around itself. It is neither joyful nor angry, neither sad or lustful for vengeance; if an emotion existed within it's words it would be simple curiosity, like observing a particularly interesting insect, or a rock that shines slightly brighter than all of it's brethren, but indeed...

"But it is surprising... For my "Other Self" you humans crafted as a container to fall in such a way... But for it to foolishly think I would do nothing as it attempted to devour me? No. It's goal was always an impossible task. This is an inescapable result."

While it seems to be talking to itself, in reality, it knows all that you know; while many in the world are unaware of the existence of the "Great Devourer," all it has to do is glance at you to pierce right into your heart and uncover all the knowledge that exists within, because of that it does not bother to identify itself, from the start it is a nameless entity that was only called something for the purposes of changing it's true nature, humans can call it whatever they'd like, and it simply will not care to correct them.

"Even now it struggles, the part of me this record tainted, but that too is pointless. Even 10% will be more than enough for this world when the time comes."

At this, it's gaze moves into the distance.

To a boy charging an attack filled with humanity's malice. Where Chronos had moved to at least avoid the strike, fearing the collective 'willpower' or rather the "Observation" behind the strike that gave it a conceptual edge, the 'true self' of the God of Time merely observes the massive lance of mud on it's flight towards it. As a weapon utilizing the curse, one that bore a massive fragment of humanity's collective 'ill-will' it is certainly a mythic-class strike that cannot be ignored, something created for the sole purpose of erasing /that man/ from the world that Fujioka Makoto can see, and-

Even so, the entity does nothing to stop it from striking it's form.

Because of that, even though the sheet strength of the attack is such that a cloud of black smoke covers the impact site, everyone can tell that it was a direct hit.

That is something no one can deny.

Even so-

"That will no longer work. If you wish to scratch me Fujioka Makoto, than at least bring the rest of humanity with you."

The entity simply stands tall amongst a hell of black-fire and mud; as attacks they hold no meaning to it, the "Observation" they hold should certainly harm it, that was the one thing humans held that enabled them to be labeled as "God-slayers," demons were, after all, crystallizations of ideas that humanity held, and yet-

That mass of "Will" is not enough to break through it's own singular "willpower" and hurt it.

This should be impossible, humanity's "beliefs" should not be able to be tossed aside so easily, and yet, as if it also bore that same power of "Observation," the entity simply rebuffs it by standing there and doing absolutely nothing about it. It is not that it could not defend against such things, but merely that the strike was so far beneath it's notice that it doesn't even bother attempting to block or dodge it.

Instead...

It turns it's infinite gaze to the two before it.

"...I have already shattered your future. This whole world has already been killed by me. Conception will not save you, in but five minutes time the ritual itself will destroy the planet."

It does not smile.

The friendliness it had used to possess with the teacher is gone.

"Why call out someone you cannot hope to defeat? The 'new world' my other self would have created was your only possible salvation, any other path leads directly to me, and yet you rejected it at every turn."

While it is a question that seems designed to pierce through Nakahara Sensei, somehow...

You get the idea that it is speaking to you as well, and that this curiosity over these circumstances...

Is all that is keeping it from attacking straight away.

And Sensei...

Still seems to be stalling, no, from the very start of this fight, even when he had challenged Chronos...

The 'moment' he had been waiting for has still yet to arrive.

[Frantic Author]

Hitoshira Nagi
Battleship S.L.E.I.P.N.I.R - Rothschild Mobile Base

I twitch. There's too much at stake. This... this struggle isn't over. This battle isn't over at all. Even as I can feel the pride in her quietness, the solemn happiness and delight in her lack of speech I... I already know.

There's more to do.

This battle won't end until the world is saved.

"I cannot reach you where you are, but I will continue to watch until the end. This time, even if I find the page blank, even if the screen goes dark, I will continue to watch everyone until the very end."

Unfair.

It's definitely unfair! It's definitely not the right way for this to go! I don't agree, I don't agree at all with the person in front of me! Fate can only be changed by us!? Who cares! There's no way that I... that I...

But my rejection dies on my lips because...

I already did.

I changed the course of reality, and dragged Yagami back from the precipice of despair. I've already changed the end of the world once, so... what's doing it one more time.

"Then... Even if I disagree... I can't speak for all of humanity, right?"

I smile at her, giving her a thumbs up. It's cheesy, unbearably so, but it feels right in the moment, and that's what matters most of all. In the end, we're all the same, and we're not all that different. And so if she wants to just watch, and is at peace with that...

I already know its a lie.

"But I can speak for me. For Hitoshira Nagi, the girl who wants to save everyone."

I already know she's not at all okay with this sort of thing. But to allow it anyways, that's what free will is. That's what it means to be human, to be a demon, to be an Esper. But the overarching 'fate' of all of us... That's something I can't even comprehend. But I can comprehend my own, right?

"I... I want you to help me. I know it's impossible, but still... it isn't just my victory, or Yagami's victory; it's our victory. This is our world, our reality, and that story... that's your story! I can't believe in an author who doesn't want to change even a little piece of it!"

It's petty, childish, and whiny, and I run a hand through my hair in exasperation.

"So I guess, that in the end all I can do is what I've done right?"

I've only stopped one villain so far, right? And according to Yagami... there are two or three more left. So it isn't over, not even a little bit.

"Then don't worry. I'll be sure to keep your heart pounding until the very end."

[Spinach]

Saki Ryuumonbuchi

Drowning in a pitch black ravine, a crag in the earth deep beneath the sea, where light could never reach. That was how it felt to be confronted by the thing that used to be called Chronos. There was no method or reason to perceiving its power, it simply was, pressing down from every direction but radiating, pulsing, blurring together in the central point that was its body.

Saki only managed to continue breathing by forcefully reminding herself to do so after spending many seconds in an awed stillness. Not blinking, not breathing, not thinking. Merely observing without purpose.

Its voice drew her back.

"...So this world of errors... Is not yet dust...? But it is surprising... For my "Other Self" you humans crafted as a container to fall in such a way... But for it to foolishly think I would do nothing as it attempted to devour me? No. It's goal was always an impossible task. This is an inescapable result."

In stunned disbelief, she looked toward her feet.

When?

When had she taken a step back, as if to run away? While her body and mind were numbed, smothered by the deluge of the Outsider’s spiritual strength? Was it even something like ‘spiritual strength,’ rather than raw, palpable power, untainted by any purpose other than destruction?

"Even now it struggles, the part of me this record tainted, but that too is pointless. Even 10% will be more than enough for this world when the time comes."

Ten.

She nearly took another step back, but now that her ‘self’ was in the process of coming together, her resolve rising to fill the tank, the strength to persevere pulled through.

For all that she was prepared, this was unprecedented. It would be impossible to ever understate the magnitude of it. If Chronos, the Chronos that humans had tainted by applying ‘ego’ to, was struggling inside and limiting it to a mere tenth, and if despite that it still had this much power…

"That will no longer work. If you wish to scratch me Fujioka Makoto, then at least bring the rest of humanity with you."

Eyes glued to its figure standing unscathed in the destruction, the thought crossed her mind.

Can something like this even be beaten?

It turned toward her and her teacher.

"...I have already shattered your future. This whole world has already been killed by me. Conception will not save you, in but five minutes time the ritual itself will destroy the planet. Why call out someone you cannot hope to defeat? The 'new world' my other self would have created was your only possible salvation, any other path leads directly to me, and yet you rejected it at every turn."

Why?

She met its gaze, confronted the question meant for her.

Why, indeed.

Why cower now? Saki Ryuumonbuchi had already made up her mind. She decided herself to come here, to bring herself and those with her to this moment. She might die? She can’t win? The Great Devourer cannot be defeated? None of those were new to her.

So why cower now? None of that has changed. Just because it’s standing in front of her, because she has to confront that macabre resolve? Stare it in the eyes and see that it’s far more powerful than she alone could ever hope to match.

Her fingers tightened around the scythe.

That line of thought is a waste. From the beginning she had come here with the intent not to fight alone. Embracing that logic now is suicide. Challenging this being is already suicidal, but to compare herself, the individual, to this force of deletion, is truly suicide.

“Why bring you out?” Taking the most difficult step in her life, Saki returns to her place with her teacher. “Salvation? Chronos would bring no salvation to us.”

Taking another step, to stand at the side of the older man rather than behind him, the girl thrust the scythe’s shaft into the earth.

“The ‘new world’ he would create is one where we humans of this world are no more, a fate worse than death. There is more to be gained in fighting that future, even if it means having to face you, even if it means perishing, than there is to resign ourselves to an eternity of despair in Chronos’ hollow ataraxia.”

[Vritra]

Makoto Fujioka
Hungry Curses
Magatsu Aoyama

Disregarding the pressure, defying the futility and not taking one step backwards it gazes down as singular attention focuses on the thing in front of it.

̵͘“̵̴A̷͘͞͝҉a̶̴͢͢á̢̛a͠ą̡҉̸̢A̴̵̛͠á̸͏̴͠A̶͟A͘͢͠a̴͟͞ a̧͟͢͝A͢͝a͏̷̡́A̷҉́Á̧̛͜A̵̢̢̛Á̴̡́a̶̴̴͡͠a̸̢̛̛͜a̵͢͡͞a ͘͜͏̛a͞͏̀͞a̴͞a̸͝a̶̡̕͏́…͏͢͞”̢̧͘


Form twisting and swords rearranging to the sounds of metallic distortion and breath tinted with malicious hunger not a single step back is taken even under a weight to surpass the world. After all even if it had been by itself such an option was simply never there in the first place. Advance forward and cut everything apart, this cacophony of

sword

maniac desires

refused everything else, thus preparing it refuses to offer anything to answer the question presented to it.

How strange…

Boom…

Crash…

Split…

Crunch…

A dream like concert of illegible emotions and noises flows through my head. It is both consumingly loud and yet at the same time muffled and distant. I have no way to tell but I feel as though I am floating but perhaps I am simply falling into this red and blue blackness. My mind breaks apart and drifts around as each ripple of sound travels through me. It’s funny, or maybe it isn’t but in this illegible haze I have embraced I feel no fear or anxiety truly a strange faith. Do I believe in myself, do I believe I’ll succeed, do I even believe I’ll survive?

"Why call out someone you cannot hope to defeat? The 'new world' my other self would have created was your only possible salvation, any other path leads directly to me, and yet you rejected it at every turn."

At first I saw nothing but now a piercing wave that sounded strangely like a question has given this haze a strange sense of clarity? Aha funny, funny, super-duper funny. Even in this formless myriad of colours I can see a star shining beyond the borders of the sea.

But…

Why am I doing anything?
What was I hoping to achieve?
Did I ever truly care about the world?
Was anything worth saving?

Drowning in this sea I watch the little shadows bubble to and fro beyond my grasp. So many question where I don’t even know if the answer exists anymore and yet…

An absolute sense of confidence.

Its explicable but despite everything such as that burning star the assurance that as long as I have myself nothing will stand in my way remains…

“Heh…

Ha ha ha HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!-”

Why don’t you tell me?

A worthless faith maybe but it is one that I will not surrender. Trust in myself and trust in this sword, even if this haze tries to consume me once again I shall not let this clarity go. Preparing myself I focus on what I’ve realized I need to do while leaving this strange other self to run wild.

I’ll exploit and plunder this whole situation so just watch Sensei I’ll show you what I’ve learned and thwart your secret homework.

“̵̨͝-̵͏̶͞H̢́͟e̵͜͟͢͠ḩ̸̵̛͟…̢̡
͏̷̡̢
̴̢̡Ḩ̢͘͟͟a͡ ̨͟͜h҉̛a͘͝ ̴̡̛̀͜h̷̸̢ą͝͝ ͏Ḩ̸̸́Ą̨̧̢͜Ḩ̸͞Ą͡͞H̸̶́À̶̛͞H҉̷̸̸͟A̵̷͝H҉҉̶Ą̴̵̨͡H ̢̛͏Ą̸͜H̴͜͡Á̵H̢͢͡A̧͟͜͠H̶҉A͘̕͡͡͝H͏̷A̸͠H̢͘͜͟A̶̶H͏̨A ͢͏̡͟͡H̡͘͢A̸H́͢͞͠Ą͏̛̕H̀͝Ą̛҉H̷̡À͞!̸̨̡̕”̸̀͡

In spite of an absolute and in defiance of superiority

I

It

laughs undaunted.

Reset, restart, recreation, I will start this process as many times as it takes. forge and temper this soul (blade) and sever everything!

The Ache of hunger and the passion of malice mix with the cacophony of emotions that whirls like a storm as swords are created and destroyed within its grasp. Its

Observation

gaze

never wavers from the thing in front of it as it slides into a stance before pulling back its arm to hurl the sword within its grasp with its fully strength. Even if futility tries to claim it it will defy, if that strike doesn’t work it shall dash around and begin with another.

A dance of raining swords that will not succumb and neither shall I.

[Airen]

Saki Ryuumonbuchi & Makoto Fujioka
Magatsu Aoyama

"I see. So it is pride then, a foolish sentiment that has led you straight back to oblivion."

It is not an unexpected answer; because the entity gives off the aura of someone whose gaze pierces through everything, it is a response that it could have perhaps predicted, but preferred to hear spoken aloud so it could personally witness it. This innate curiosity seems strange for an entity whose mere existence seems to make everyone else 'irrelevant' right from the start, and yet it's response to it is as genuine a response as it could possibly manifest.

"But that defiance is part of your nature, Ryuumonbuchi Saki, that is as expected, you can feel that no path to victory exists and yet you lie to yourself anyway. Admirable in a way, but foolish, for you are but a walking corpse. But Nakahara..."

Eyes close.

"You have seen it for yourself, understood your powerless before me and fled rather than face it. Because of that your fate has yet to be recorded, you should be talented enough by now to escape the Amala Network if you wish, and yet here you stand before me in spite of knowing you cannot prevail, defending a world full of corpses... Yes, it seems this final cycle is unique in a number of ways."

Is it impressed?

It's hard to say. While Nakahara himself had admitted to giving up in the original Conception, the tone taken here is that it had been a withdrawal burn purely from an intense belief that he could not win no matter what he did; the entity is saying that nothing has changed since then, that no amount of strength gathered between then and now is sufficient to close the gap, and in response-

"That was my sin. I should have stopped you then, but I will make up for it."

The resolve in that man's eyes becomes steel as he and the entity regard each other; it is strangely not in a hurry to act, indeed, taking it's time to examine all of you now, there is a brief flicker of acknowledgement when it's gaze falls upon a silent Nyarlthotep, but the embodiment of humanity's darkness seems to think better than to speak up when the eyes land on it and don't fall away, or at least doesn't seem to have any intention of interjecting, and in that sense the entity seems to disregard it's existence as ultimately irrelevant.

In essence, it is dismissed, and the shadow fades away once it is allowed to leave...

Or at least that seems to be the case.

But unlike the God of Darkness that seems to catch the hint that it too will be spared for now:

A youth attacks it once more; while it's patience is close to infinite in this form, it seems that the lesson of powerlessness it was attempting to get across merely by existing has not gotten through the head of a more primal malice. Just like before there is likely little reason to defend itself from the strike, out of all beings in existence, humans had the absolute worst chance at doing anything significant to it, and yet the moment the strike is launched a spell quietly emerges from unworried lips.

==Universal Law==

At what point did it move?

It's a question that erupts in the minds of everyone present, as the moment the entity speaks, time and space seem to rearrange themselves for it's benefit rather than the other way around; a transformed youth appears directly in front of it.

"...What a pathetic chaos."

There is no time for anyone to react.

The hand that closes around the boy's neck does so with a stoic grip so tight that even those that do not need to breathe would find themselves scrambling in an attempt to preserve their life, not because life is being denied them through their crushed windpipe, but rather that being this close to the Great Devourer was a situation in which the only outcome is a quick and absolute death.

Naturally it struggles, and yet the God does little about it.

Or rather, it's more correct to say that it simply still does not care; from the start it had been designed for the purpose of defeating humans, this mass of curses means little to it, as do the rest of their beliefs, it was protected from them in a way that demons and gods simply were not...

How many worlds of humans had it slaughtered before this?

Countless.

Was resolve a rare trait in any of them?

No.

It's will was much higher than anything they could hope to manifest.

Like it had said, bring humanity here if you want to scratch it with that power.

Even so, it seems the mud was useful for keeping it from sending the cursed student to the underworld with a simple squeeze of it's fingers, or perhaps the entity itself simply has it's own reasons for not going for a finishing strike immediately, as if it wanted to observe what the captured boy would do in it's grasp but-

"...!"

The moment Nakahara understands what is happening, he crushes fear beneath his heel and darts towards 'God' with an insanity that surprises even it, body burning not with spiritual power but rather demonic force, and in a flash...

Makoto Fujioka falls to the ground with a fading consciousness, a severed arm laying along with the body of writhing mud as the teacher does the impossible and cleaves straight through a body that had seemed so invincible moments before, an attack that had been weaker in brute force but had held something that the strikes of the monster had lacked, but in spite of that-

"...Oh? Demonic strikes? So this is Aion's power?"

-The teacher still keeps it's distance from the God. While his eyes are resolute once more, spurned onwards by what he had come here to protect from the start, the reality is still that the loss of the arm had not bothered the entity at all, rather, by the time anyone can acknowledge the injury had even existed, an injury that should exist perpetually due to the powers of a Goddess of Time, the being is standing there completely unscratched once again, and the pressure...

It only increases.

As does the sense that it still doesn't consider anyone here to be any sort of real impediment.

"Demon-kind... I am surprised to find you here as well; you were not my target. If you had simply stayed out of this you could have expired on your own time in the future... But that is your right, if you wish to disappear now, I will grant that request."

They lived outside of the world, and it was simply here to crush the world; in that sense, the demons certainly would have been safer staying away, even if the lack of humans would eventually lead to their own deaths, but it seemed that much like Belial, Aion had her own reasons for standing next to 'her human' until the very end, and while she does not respond verbally, the glare that is given in response says all that needs to be said, yes, this demon certainly reminds you of Yoko-sensei and-

Sensei strikes again, this time a punch aimed at the God's face.

It catches it with but an easy palm this time, raising it's arms in respect for the one that had bonded with it's other self even as a vicious retaliating fist puts the teacher down on his knees with arm still caught in it's grasp, but in that same moment-

A flash of light passes through the area as a certain light-speed reporter retrieves her friend's body and retreats with it in her arms, able to recognize him even in this state and instinctively moving to keep him away from that enemy and-

"What an unsightly existence."

The calm voice of Ryuumonbuchi Kazuno...

Is accompanied by the passing form of what could only be a golden phoenix.

A familiar phoenix.

[Spinach]

Saki Ryuumonbuchi
Magatsu Aoyama

Pride?

With one accusation, the Great Devourer made its alien nature all the more apparent. Pride played no part in this decision. It is not the sentiment that drives mortals to reach for life. That fundamental misunderstanding illustrated the vivid difference between it and those that resided in this world. Even Demon-kind such as Belial understood humans to a degree enough to see that pride had nothing to do with it.

As the Outsider’s severed hand fell, releasing the curse-ridden Makoto Fujioka from its grasp, a slender hand takes hold of the back of the boy’s collar. The curse billowing around his body, black flame and human malice crystallized as an all-consuming mud, destroy her flesh as she takes hold of her classmate and disappears in a storm of fire, putting distance – meaningless distance – between herself and the Devourer.

The searing pain of the curse runs through her body, attacking her soul, her sense of self. As an ESPer, an Eclipse user, and in part due to the spell of ‘eternity’ placed upon her body, she can endure. But it isn’t enough to endure.

“Fujioka-kun,” giving the boy a shake, she tries to speak to whatever remnant of her classmate might be left inside the curse, “you’re in there, aren’t you? Goodness, what a fool you are. Well, you always were a bit of a fool, but letting this curse take you… Even I’m impressed.”

With a laugh, Saki slaps the boy in the back encouragingly, putting the pain down with a jovial attitude that didn’t suit the situation at all. Even as the Devourer dropped their teacher to his knees with a single strike, she pat him on the back again.

“But well, Fujioka-kun, I don’t think that will be enough to get a passing grade. And, you see, even I think I’m close to failing. But I’ve begun to think, maybe this is a group assignment. So see,” the girl looked down at her classmate, consciousness still on the verge of fading from the Devourer’s attack, “hey, you are listening, aren’t you, Fujioka-kun?”

Saki sighed.

She never had talked to him too much in class. In fact, she couldn’t recall a single conversation she’d ever had with him. Nakahara-sensei always was trying to encourage her to open up and talk to the other students for good reason.

“My point is, Fujioka-kun, that you’re not the only fool around here.”

The malice of the curse began to change. Where the girl’s hand was planted on the boy’s back the mud began to converge and run up the length of her own arm.

That’s right.

Pride has nothing to do with it.

“We’re both a pair of fools looking to challenge fate, a fate we don’t like. A fate we despise.”

From the beginning the only sentiment driving her actions was human foolishness.

Jigokumachi.

The Eclipse power gained by taking in the echoes of a certain Demon Slayer from a certain future drew its strength from the dark and light within humanity. Hope for something to change, and spite for the adversity the future held in store. The former fueled the latter, and the latter gave the former reason to persevere.

By taking the malice held in the curse, that power would grow even stronger.

Body brimming with duality, love and spite, peace and adversity, the girl brought her attention to the newest arrivals.

"What an unsightly existence."

“Mother! Phenex!” Even as assured as she was that the two would be fine, the elation and relief of seeing them still manages to escape in the form of the young girl’s raised voice. The smile that still lingered from her bout of laughter over her classmate’s recklessness lit up again, striking a stark contrast to the apocalyptic situation. “Perfect timing.”

Releasing the scythe in her free hand, an inferno comes to life and returns the weapon to its true form, that of the Demon Prince, Belial.

“With the Ryuumonbuchi together the chance of victory just went from 0% to 1%, in other words, 100%.”

[Vritra]

Makoto Fujioka
Hungry Curses
Magatsu Aoyama

Pride…

As my consciousness is crushed anew and I pieces of my thoughts begin to sink into that strange void a single strangely sticks out at me.

Pride…

I… did I have pride?

I rarely can keep myself from drowning in these feelings… I can’t feel any attachment to my body or any instinct to avoid pain… The only feeling towards the world around me are that others seem to enjoy it and that it’s the place where they are… and perhaps worst I can’t really picture people I don’t know… I, I might grasp people I meet tightly but those I don’t know at all, I just… can’t picture or feel for them at all.

"I'm sure you of all people understand that twistedness, Makoto-kun, You're filled with that kind of hate too. That relentless, pointless blood lust. I'm sure a part of you thinks it feels good, right?"

…

He he he that’s, funny isn’t it? When you think on everything I sound …rather like a villain don’t I. I suppose that’s only natural for someone like me. I dream of drowning, I… hope to cut and I long to embrace everything tightly even though it might be one sided.

Do I have anything other than this longing? Or did all of that die off then…

Maybe it would be better if I died off here…

As everything seems slowly slip away into this strange void that I’ve found myself next to despite the voices howling to oppose it a self-depreciating laugh and smile flicker across my spreading consciousness.

“Sorry, sorry Chiaoko-nee but your wrong, that happen BECAUSE I’M THE ONE WHOSE GOING TO GIVE YOU YOUR BIRTHDAY PRESENT NOT YOU!”

…!

A strange bubble pops to release nostalgic words as the void retreats from around me. Aaaaaha ha ha ha I wonder how many times I said words like those to her… Everytime or was it only a few times?

"I believe in you even when you don't, so I know you'll do the right thing... Don't let me down, okay?"

One bubble after another brings word after word that stabs and twists into my chest. Ah terrible, I’m just so, so terrible aren’t I. Selfishly longing for that warmth without giving anything in return it just won’t do I won’t allow it. I must protect them, I must return all the warmth I receive three fold and I must not give up.

Maybe I had things besides this incessant longing or maybe they all died that day but regardless, even if I had no pride, even if I had no goodness even if all I have is this intoxication drowning sea and a pale longing…

“Don’t worry, don’t worry! No matter I’ll protect you so smile and watch as I send all the jerks flying with like a hwaaaaaa kapow ULTIMATE SMASH! You’ve got a pretty smile so it’s a shame when it goes to waste you know? It’s a promise!”

Strangely nostalgic words and a strange image seep from my mind and perhaps even out of my mouth but… of course they are after all I’ve definitely said those words before. Everything before that day has been twisted and burned until all that remains are distortions and holes but under a tree, holding a hand that I instinctively know I must not let go of, I said those words once before as I smiled and pat her head.

Really I had forgotten how many promises had piled up, Ane-san, Megane, Kyoto, Sensei, Akido, Hitomimi, Canada, Kimichi, Usami and… Chiaoko-nee. So many things it makes me want to curl into a ball and cry but I won’t succumb after all isn’t this will probably be the last chance to make sure those promises that have piled up until they seem meaningless are made good.

This time… This time I won’t let it end that way.

Floating in this whirling red sea I steel my soul in preparation. No more running away, no more drowning-

“Your right, I really do need to face myself. …even if they’ve piled up and gone bad they still exist… I want to see them through to the end.”

-Its time to make it drown within me, it’s time to win even against myself.

Straining my consciousness I collect my memory of recent events and the state of myself and in those fragments I realize a plan. Fwaaa I don’t know if it’ll work but I won’t let it continue like this so first comes first I’ll need those precious drops of blood and that arm before I can show Chiaoko-nee just how great a pirate I am.

Having finished sketching out my plan I touch the networks of my swords that winds through and impales everything around me like thorns upon red vines and whisper, to both this sword and the darkness that is clinging to it.

“Isn’t it funny how that’s the best you can do …So funny and disappointing look how he doesn’t feel a thing, he isn’t even looking at you, isn’t it just… all so funny?

Forcing a new rain of swords to burst forth an impale everything I grin quietly as I whisper my taunts into the heart of this sword and darkness to incite and focus it. I will put my faith in myself and the girls faint whispers that reach my consciousness. I had originally only though that I needed to prepare a counter measure to sever Sensei’s ability sacrifice himself in my place but now I think that it’s about time to

face myself

grasp this sword

and sever this fate.

[Airen]

VS The Great Devourer
'The Future You Could Never Reach'

The world that was so obsessed with death nevertheless clung fiercely to life.

The hell of pitch-black mud and curses was a sign of endless despair and agony; it is not the first time this God has observed such a thing, while he does not reign over the darkness that haunts this world, while it is simply an outsider that exists to carry out the will of those who monitored the 'Record,' this is still an event with which it holds a remarkable familiarity.

This darkness is what had doomed this world from the start.

It was something they had failed to overcome, a thing that had brought them to their knees and finished all but a handful of them in a broken reality that no longer had the potential to move forward; that is why the God allows Nyarlthotep to escape, while they both exist as 'obstacles to the future' they existed as such in entirely different ways.

The God of Darkness was the chains of the past that had gone on to drown them in their own despair.

And this God... The Devourer...

Was simply a sign of a "future they had not been able to reach."

It would not be here otherwise.

This world can only end in absolute destruction.

Even if they overcome the darkness, there will be a time in the future where they fall; falling at all was a sign of that inevitability, and thus this world only has a single possible ending.

For that reason, there is no hope to found here, even so...

"One percent? The same as one-hundred percent...?"

Standing tall, a manifestation of the fate that awaited those who no longer had the right to pursue a future, the entity nevertheless does not seem to be in a hurry to bring things to their end, no, in fact...

It observes their struggle with a bizarrely calm interest.

The human hypocrisy that kept them fighting for a future they themselves would ultimately destroy.

"Even knowing you can't win, you continue to struggle. Foolishness from pride, or pride from foolishness...?"

As an outsider, it is difficult for it to tell, even so...

"Interesting. I will 'Observe' that strike. If it fails to meet my expectations, then this will be the end for you."

"Beware, humans. You are in the presence of "Death" itself."

Power flows forth as a barrier.

Again it gives the world a chance; it is impossible to tell why, it is not a pure benevolence, but claiming that it will simply stand there and accept whatever force they manage to muster, it continues to give it's enemies advantage after advantage over it, as if it doesn't truly believe the outcome will change no matter what they do.

"I am the future you could never reach."

Indeed, that is it's steadfast belief, even so-

Life rejects it.

Not just humans, but life of all sorts.

"Belial! For once in your awful, horrendous, self-absorbed entitled little life, try attacking together-!"

"Just shut up and hit it bird!"

One does not have to be friends to fight for a common goal; indeed, on this night, the will of strangers is something that has saved many from eternal darkness and damnation, and two demons who have continually rejected each other up until this point, together become a whirling mass of flames that loses grasp on it's true form, and-

"HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH-!"

A teacher puts strength into a denied fist. While it is not enough to move the God from it's position, at least not at first, the scream that accompanies the force of muscles attempting to do the impossible is one that denies the endless flow of spiritual power in front of it; a rapidly growing power that soon bursts into 'starlight' as the teacher stands his ground to move something that resists human effort and mocks it as pointless.

It's a sentiment that soon moves to his students as well; while power is sought from the curse, that curse alone will never touch this particular opponent. It has not lied to you when you it has said this, it's ability to slay humans was far and above that of any other existence, they held no role in it's creation and thus it denies their beliefs with little effort.

However, it is not immune to them.

While it claims that it is, that simply cannot be true, after all...

It had been transformed into "Chronos" through human belief, if there were enough of you it should be possible to do so, and that spark of hope at the end of the horizon gives birth to the silver fire of 'starlight' that has come to represent those who would defy a dark and unwanted fate.

Even with the curse and starlight in unison, it is not humanity as a whole, the starlight itself is not perfected, but the sense of hope that comes with it, a hope that works to shield the minds of two who had willingly submerged themselves in the curse, becomes the only means through which it can be used while still remaining as oneself, opposing powers that nevertheless mesh together in a surprising way, forced to use by the spirits of the Eclipse who sought to maximize the chances of success, but-

-It's still not enough.

"..."

For Ryuumonbuchi Kazuno, the situation is one that even she is forced to admit is less than ideal; even so, she can recognize this moment as one that will likely never appear again, a time where an undefeatable opponent puts it's own immortality to the test to prove a point of worthlessness to it's enemies, and calls upon the power that she had been keeping to herself for eight years.

That of the woman she had recruited yesterday.

Mary Fairchild was her name as far as the general populace was concerned, but in reality she was the furthest thing from a human being, no, she was something much more absurd than that, a fragment of the Creator, an amnesiac angel of the highest possible order; while the girl herself did not know how to use her own powers reliably, the older Ryuumonbuchi can draw them out through their contract, and while it drain the rest of her power to nothing, it's the option that has the best chance of success-!

Rending Infinite Light

==Aur Ein Soph==

The mass of collaborating magics is complete.

Neither purely sword nor purely light nor purely flame, it is simply "Will," that of both humans and demons, coming on a crash course with it's body.

"...Hmph."

Standing at the other end of it, the entity closes it's eyes and smiles in the face of that growing pressure; while it's emotions are hard to place, it is not hard to think that perhaps the entity was proud in it's own way of those that stood before it. It was not impossible, after all, the 'remnant feelings' its other self had held towards humans still existed within this form, no...

Even this entity, as itself, not just as Chronos, held a certain fascination with humans.

Those who would fight even when they can't win, even when they know it is pointless.

Yes this cycle was truly interesting, a worthy way of seeing this farce to an end, but-

Knowing full well that it will come out of this unharmed and thus that it will ultimately be disappointed, the entity closes it's eyes, completely ignoring the mass of power that tracks it, but-

"HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH-!



"Wha-"

A barrier cracks.

A fist that had held on till the end of eternity, relentlessly against a wall that would not budge, urged on by the voices of millions...

Had broken through to a miracle-!

"...?!"

It moves.

Against all odds, it's body moves, rocketed backward as both stance and shield shatter in the wake of a human and demon filled eternity, Kyoko once again appearing as a beam of light that this time drags her teacher from the incoming impact zone. To say that it was damaged by this fist would be incorrect, but even so, visibly shocked for the first time, the roaring mass of spirit power pursues a foe that has lost it's guard, and moments before impact-!

"Come on, damn rabbit!"

"R-Right!"

A cage of crystalline ice locks both the God and the blast in the same enclosed space in order to maximize the damage. Almost late to the party in spite of their best efforts, the butler and maid in training stand in the direction of the god's flying body and imprison it at a speed of over three hundred million meters per second-!



The self-contained detonation...

Certainly seems to shake the world, as the crystal prison shatters from all the condensed magic and reveals nothing of it's contents but a white, meaningless haze.

---

"Hah... Hah..."

There comes a point where even 'Eternity' will help you no longer.

Drained to the point of nothing, kept going only by the starlight or the curse, the urge to sink to your knees immediately is one that takes an absurd amount of willpower not to actualize; what little strength you have remaining is not your own, it is strength that you have borrowed from someone else, and in that regard, pushing everything to it's limit...

It's a miracle you don't collapse right after the attack is through, humanity's will certainly wants you to stay standing, they drag you back up whenever you even think of sitting down to rest, but even with all their invisible hands on your body, moving forward even a handful of steps seems like an almost impossible task.

Of course, they will let you go if the opponent is truly defeated, at least the starlight will, but-

==Universal Law=

Even though no one asks the obvious jinx-filled question, reality ultimately overcomes what should be a happy fairy-tale ending with the power of despair, or rather, the power of a string of fate that has refused to be cut no matter what is taken to it.

Yes indeed, even though it's body had actually been destroyed-

"If you are struck even a single time, you will be defeated. In two minutes, the Conception Ritual will reach it's conclusion, and "God's Thunder" will appear no matter what anyone does."

A promise, written into the laws of reality.

-It seems that it hadn't been enough.

[Katie]

Mikagura Mika
Crawling Chaos

Toxic flames that overwhelm. I’m not particularly surprised. It’s not that I don’t understand that their strength is magnitudes greater than anything I’ve ever faced or experienced. It’s that this is how every fight I’ve been in goes. Every battle, the side that has Mikagura Mika is innately disadvantaged when it comes to power. Because of this simple fact, I’ve never had to change my underhanded style at all.

And throughout all these battles, this style has become refined to an almost perfect point—a strategy that accepts being the underdog in every fight. While it’s most certainly true that humanity will often overwhelmingly support obvious and self-evident causes, there are always those willing to bet everything they have on a darkhorse victory. In that respect, their belief is stronger than that of the masses in terms of quality.

After all, putting your faith in something such as that, really means you don’t have anything left.

And well… this is exactly that sort of situation.

Beacon sputters to life and I use what remains of the silver flames around us to kick start it into blade form.

Regardless of the toxicity that leaks from our foe, he is still a god, and this sword bears a grudge against them like no other. No reason to use the gun. In addition… I think it’s best if Dad sees the fruits of his labor.

“On three, then?”

I ask this question because I’m unsure how to sync up with my own parents until I’ve seen them in action. Certainly there are recollections from the Akashic Record, but even so, I have to see their rhythm in action to make the full calculations in order to properly harmonize with their onslaught.

But I’m certain we can do it. It doesn’t really matter how the following attack happens—just that we do it together.

[Airen]

VS Nyarlthotep
'Ever Victorious Darkness'

The weight of the world is matched with the weight of the world's shadow.

No matter what sort of force anyone brings against it, the shadow called Nyarlthotep never seems outmatched, indeed, no matter what the venue, it almost always seems to not only effortlessly match the skill and strength of it's opponents, but outright surpass them at it, taking their skill and strength and throwing it back in their face twofold. The realization of what it is hints at reasons as to why this might be the case, but regardless, while it seems to ultimately hold the edge in both power and skill, there are two aspects of it that can be taken advantage of, namely...

It has a tendency to get a form of pseudo-tunnel vision once it starts the assault on someone; something that serves it so well it might as well be 'invincible' in one on one confrontations, the bodies of loners growing weak and cold the moment they cross blades, but...

It is fighting everyone alone.

A barrage of bullets are fired in the direction of the 'God' of Darkness.

Slamming into the entity with all the force of concentrated wishes, the presence of supporting gunfire seems to throw the God off ever so slightly; the normally perfect, vicious counter-strikes lose a hint of that edge, and while it continues to play it's role as a 'human,' grasping impossibility with it's bare hands as it defends against attacks that should not be possible to defend against, the God simply sneers in your face at your words.

"You would know all about throwing tantrums, wouldn't you?"

While it's counters dig naturally at your past, your own words do not seem wrong to you.

It's reasons for doing all of this seem just as petty as they are sadistic; like a child that has realized it's toys aren't behaving in the way that they should, and has decided to break all of them as a result, but-

That's fine.

Let it mock you all it wants.



It was the first strike of Kazuya's you had seen, but it was a hell of a strike.

His blade flickered like an afterimage, a literal wave of fire -burning crimson rather than the unnatural ebony- forms an arc that the God chooses to clash with rather than dance out of it's range, as if the sight of the blade itself had put all thoughts of evasion from it's mind, because-

The sword that guarded Eden wasn't so easy to evade.

Even bringing it to a crashing stop, fire spreads along the length of that shadow's form as the flames hungrily lash out at the one that has cursed everyone with the fires of humanity's hell.

"Kazuya!"

A mocking cheerfulness, as if they were old friends who just happened to run across each other.

"So glad to see you picked up that sword! You know what that means right? Now you're the same as the rest of em! Can't escape this place anymore!"

"Doesn't matter. Not the type to run anyway."

"Hahaha right, right!"

A flicker of annoyance crossing Kazuya's face, the mocking shadow seems to take delight in those emotions, but-

You remind it you're still here with a strike at it's exposed back, lightning striking where the blade of the sword itself is stopped; while it's unclear exactly how much damage is bleeding through, the lightning and fire seem to mingle together into an elemental distortion in which it's body is trapped, and-

"Damn brats-!!!

An explosion forces both you and Kazuya back; a localized detonation of dark flames, a simple repulse, the sheer fact that it has to resort to something like that to force you back lights a spark of hope in those that see it, and while it takes a moment to recover-

A father sees it as an opening.

"Go now-!"

"Alright, Mika-!"

Perhaps you got your speed from your mother.

Leaping to opposite sides of Humanity's Shadow at the urging of Mikagura Yuuki, the flash of crossing swords happens in the moment after the alchemist sacrifices a hundred of his swords as a rain of spiritual metal, detonating them the moment they ram their way through the God's pseudo barrier and opening it to attack.

The opening that appears exists for 0.000001 of a second, but even without your ESP, her timing...

Was perfect.

As was Beacon's curse.

The immovable body shudders as blades run it through, and-

"Come on Sora, you too-!"

"Geez, you're still as pushy as ever-!"

"Alright Med, let's finish it before Yuka and the Dragon gets here-!"

"All of you, now!"

A flash of brilliance between both friends and strangers.

Humans fighting for the right to live with other humans, guided by a piercing starlight.

"Argh!?"

Blood.

For the first time, a pitch-black blood fills it's mouth as wounds it had been shrugging off suddenly burns with a newfound intensity. Every successful strike made the power of hope burn brighter; humanity was using them as weapons, a counter force to save themselves, something that they will force to fight until it breaks; it was not the ESPers own power, it wasn't a pure selflessness, and yet they were just embracing it?

It was working?

It's so absurd it can't help but laugh.

"Feeling good? Riding high off that power in this cycle?! Think that makes you strong?! You're nothing but scum that can only lean on others, doing nothing on your own! I'LL KILL YOU ALL!"

Bonds Severed at my Hands

==TRANSIENT RIPPLE==

Doom.

The immediate feeling that strikes everyone in the area is that something has gone horrifically wrong; power drains from your limbs and you don't quite understand why, the sensation of the flames tearing into your flesh triples in intensity, and then, and only then, as the power that had been building to a sort of climax fades away, do you realize the sheer horror of the ability that was just used on you.

A spell that obstructs connections.

Just as many of you had sought to weaken the dark by freeing souls from it's grasp, a dark hand has reached out to block not just the network Nami had created, but your own personal link to the Sea of Souls.

A sudden, horrific sense of isolation.

It feels wrong.

It feels wrong. It feels wrong. It feels wrong. It feels wrong.

Crashing exhaustion catches up to the Eclipse Users where it normally would not, willpower becomes literally the only thing keeping you on your feet, and a God that had begun showing weakness merely cackles in the darkness as the silver flames become little more than flickering whiffs of power, a fire that's desperately struggling not to go out.

Regeneration Inactive.
Eclipse Abilities/Bonuses Sealed.
Starlight Weakened.



"Come on! Where'd your power go?! Show me that confidence of yours now!"

Just like that...

The turn of a tide.

[Verg Avesta]

Medrod Pendragon
Crawling Chaos

"Yeah... I suppose I do know all about throwing tantrums."

Step.

"Which would make my words the gospel... and that you acknowledge them as truth, you big baby."

Step.

"Stop whining. Stop screaming. Stop pounding your feet. It's unsightly."

Step.

"Life isn't going your way? Things aren't fair? It wasn't supposed to go like this? Tough!"

Step.

"That's life. That's what you stepped into. It's what you're trying to fight against."

Step.

"So let me tell you this... You set yourself up to lose the moment you thought anything, even Gods, could bend the world to their will."

Stop.

"And that's why you'll never be nothing more than a loser."

Medrod Pendragon stood. No, more than that, he walked forward. His form may have been beaten, battered, bruised... yet he soldiered on. There was no strength left in his body and the supernatural aid given to him by his powers, his connections was fading away fast. The starlight around him was nothing but a flickering ember, about to go out. Yet there was no denying that his form stood there, feet firmly planted in the rubble, staring Nyarlathotep straight in the eye. The young man's clothes were torn and his body was bleeding all over. His muscles screamed in agony as they forced the body to act. His brain was riddled with discharges of electricity as it tried to give him a clear picture of what was happening.

But what's more.

He stood... and he talked.

"You think that'll do it? You take away our bonds, our source of power, and you've won? Sorry, but it's far too late for that. I mean..." Even through the pain, a sarcastic grin appeared on Medrod's broken face. "I fought all alone for eight full years. What the hell do you think taking away my powers will do? It changes nothing. At the end of the day, I'm just a simple man with a simple sword. I'm nothing like these guys... these true heroes that surround me. These people with abilities that could really change the world and make it a better place. Compared to them, I'm just a murderer who had a change-of-heart."

Medrod let his eye look upon the thrown-back forms of all the others that were fighting just as desperately at him. The eye that looked at them had a stream of blood running through it, making it switch from blue to red like static in television. Kazuya. He knew he could trust him. The Golden Witch. He knew she was powerful. And these others... Medrod might not have known them, but that girl apparently somehow knew his name. And he sure as hell knew she and her compatriots would have been better suited for fighting a world-ending god. So, to give them an all chance to recover... he would do what he did best. He would be that simple man with a simple sword.

And as luck would have it... it was exactly what was needed now.

"It's ironic, isn't it? No matter what you do, you just make things worse for yourself. You just accelerate your own defeat," Medrod laughed at Nyarlathotep, his voice filled with self-sarcasm. "Sound like anyone you know? Anyone you see before you?"

It was the irony of this situation, and the ember of willpower within his chest, that let Medrod stand despite everything in his body telling that it would be impossible. He would collapse at any second. Yet he refused to do so. It was far too late to stop now. An ember it might have been, but like at the very beginning... it was the one part of him that would never go out. The Crawling Chaos should have destroyed his body if it wanted to get rid of him. But in its hurry to see them fall and sink into despair, it had forgotten that. His ember, his willpower, would never go out. Thus... he would stand, no matter what it took and no matter how many times he would have to do it again.

"Not to mention... I mean, it was fancy... and powerful... definitely something that a fake 'god' should be able to do..." Medrod grunted and spat out blood as he approached closer and closer to Nyarlathotep. "Sure gotta hand it to you. You know how to make people feel hopeless. To break those supernatural links within us would be enough to make anyone fall into despair. It should be enough to doom any and all of us. Yeah, really, it should..."

Blue and red, for another moment, vied for the control.

Until Medrod's voice rose to drown the victorious cackle of the shadow.

And nothing but Blue stared Nyarlathotep down.

"IF ANY OF THAT MATTERED!"

Standing there, mere meter away from the Reflection of Oneself, Medrod suddenly realized... for some reason, the more powerful it was, the more sure of its assured victory it was... it seemed to grow smaller and smaller in his reflection. Almost like an actual child screaming at the world for a whole of infinity. And perhaps, something in that... tinted his gaze with pity as he looked upon the creature.

"You take away our bonds? Screw that! Who cares if you cut whatever bit of supernatural power flowed through that link between me and the people I love!?" Medrod growled, unleashing the brunt of his words against Nyarlathotep. "That bond doesn't go anywhere! It isn't something tangible! It isn't goddamn magic, it isn't ESP, it isn't a physical chain that actually exists! It's something bigger, something stronger, and something a creature weak as you sure as hell can't touch! Go ahead! Cut me off from my powers and my friends! Take away my abilities, take away everything! You could even erase my memories of them! Those bonds are still untouched! They exist, and there's nothing you can do to hurt them! I don't need some sort of magical link between me and my friends to feel strong!"

A sword was swung at Nyarlathotep with clear intent to destroy it... yet without even an ounce of killing intent. For it was not a strike to kill the enemy, but stop this meaningless conflict.

"If you can't even understand that friendship is more than a tangible power... you can't ever win against it. So what if you take away my all? Because it doesn't change the fact that I made a promise!"

A strike too grandiose for a simple man with a simple sword.

Of course it was.

After all... the strike was not the true attack. He knew it would get deflected.

"And that promise is forever out of your reach, you moron!"

The true attack---

Was a destroyer-class headbutt that crashed down on Nyarlathotep forehead, ready to ram some sense into the pitiful god.

[Spinach]

Saki Ryuumonbuchi
Reaching For A Third Minute

Staying standing is a labor. The mere act of remaining above the ground is a miracle in and of itself. Saki’s body, once hers alone, has been the vessel for much more than she for the majority of this night. The Eclipse, the Starlight, the Curse. All have had their turn, taken their toll.

For an instant, her vision doubles. Overlapping from fatigue as her eyes defocus.

The girl sways to the side, a physical construct of fire, an oak-like pillar of her own creation springing from the earth to support her, burning her consciousness back to life.

In that instant, where there was nothing, it returns. Its body that had been destroyed under their combined force reappears, as if it had never been destroyed in the first place. Likely, it truly wasn’t. Its body is only an instrument to envision its purpose, and as long as its purpose remains its body cannot be destroyed.

Still not enough.

- At least bring the rest of humanity with you. -

Is that the only way?

She can do it. Saki Ryuumonbuchi has that option. If a complete humanity, under a shared sentiment, facing a common enemy, is what can defeat it, is the only thing that can defeat it, then she will. She must.

The fire begins to run beneath her flesh. Kindling her body and soul, burning away at both for a second wind. Trading life and spirit for even a few extra seconds.

“Two minutes…?” It isn’t a threat. It’s not a prophecy. It’s a promise. “Plenty of time…”

She’ll just have to make it break that promise.

“To create that future your existence denies.”

To do that, she needs more than just the rest of humanity. The future Saki wants doesn’t belong to just humans. Beyond that, the enemy is more than a specialist in killing humans: it is an absolute authority. To resist it by purely human means is foolish. It clashes with her own ideology. It is wrong.

A burning finger raises skyward. A flare of spiritual flame beaming to the shattered, darkened sky above.

What isn’t wrong is asking for help.

“To those of you who fled to the Shadow Vortex, this world has a third minute! That third minute is yours too! Not just mine, not just for humans. That third minute, and every minute past it, belongs to everyone. After that third minute is a world for all.”

Her red eyes lift to the ceiling of stained glass, the shattered sky.

“Are you content in the darkness? Are you content in a timeless void, in nothing?”

The fire running through her lights up her iris. Burning up her sight, the eyes of Saki Ryuumonbuchi become a true red.

“Even if your answer is yes, even if you have no desire for the world of the third minute. I ask of you: are you content to hide, while the one who freed you perishes?”

[Katie]

Mikagura Mika
Crawling Chaos

There’s no mental warning when everything shuts off, numbers vanishing into the abyss, the pace of my mind grinding to a sudden halt—

And it settles in immediately—panic, panic, panic, because everything’s gone and I didn’t choose this empty, unrelenting silence and it makes me so nervous and even if I can feel Genbu and Beacon there it’s just so quiet that I can hear the black flames flicker and crackle despite the frantic frenzy of the situation.

All momentum stops.

I check to my sides and there’s Mom and there’s Dad and my heartbeat almost seems to settle just enough that I can think when there’s no point, because there aren’t any calculations that matter anymore. No precise openings, just pervasive dread that overwhelms. Only us against humanity’s darkest, a crushing sense of loneliness. An absence of connection.

I hate this so much. It reminds me of those painful years where I shut everything out, thought that the only way to preserve my sanity was to emphasize my own self. I didn’t need anyone, I told myself. But that wasn’t true because no matter how hard I tried I kept seeing her.

Choking, stifling, paralyzing loneliness.

It’s hard to understand that even though our connections are severed they’re still next to me. My brain knows but my heart feels like it wants to shatter. I can’t bear this feeling.

“I hate this!” An anguished scream from my own lungs. Childish, petulant. I’m certain… I’m certain that the people here are very strong. Their hearts are very, very strong.

But I’ve used my brain all this time. Calculating, analyzing, thinking. Emotions were merely supplementary. And to truly be alone with myself, just the feeling of isolation in my heart…

It’s so hard to bear…

And so, in this pulse pounding desperation, I take the pale wisps of silver flame and reach out.

“It doesn’t matter,” I say, words buried under a breaking will. “People have always been like this. Even if someone stands next to you, you can still feel alone. And these broken people, shunned into despair, they cling on to a small hope.”

A pause. It’s hard for the words to come out.

“That maybe one day, someone will reach out.”

Humanity… the very nature of humanity is social. Perhaps it’s highlighted the best when human beings are all alone. In this veil of madness, a common thing is to invent a companion to ease the pain.

“Even in the abysmal loneliness they still hope they’ll connect with someone. They reach out, fumbling, missing connections, but they try. We fumble all the time! How many friendships don’t last? How many people merely stay as acquaintances? But we try and we try and we try because no matter what we hold out for someone who can be at our side!”

I draw Beacon and try to move, step by step, towards the foe that knows humanity’s ugliness the best. But even amidst the unpleasantries of humanity, there’s something he can’t deny.

“Look at the Kyuubi! That ace of yours was an unsightly conglomerate of people reaching out to each other in despair! Who cares what their intent is. They couldn’t handle being alone, so they dragged everyone else down with them!”

Humanity, even at its worst, can’t stand being alone.

“Even if you sever our connections, we’ll just form new ones. It doesn’t matter if it’s love or hate, friendship or rivalry, like or dislike. Human beings are pathetic, desperate creatures that can’t live without bonds.”

“No matter how many times you try to sever them—”

A brazen swing, alongside the reckless headbutt of the other man who dared to talk back. Even this is proof enough, of companionship through rebellion. That as long as you look for it, common ground exists.

“—People won’t ever stop reaching out!”