Anibal Pinto Square, Prat, Valparaíso
Day 03
Afternoon Phase - 05
Severe Cold (-19 °C/-2.2 °F)
(BGM)
Maria Westinghouse does not hesitate. Her power encourages going ever forward, being relentless and overcoming all obstacles with her unstoppable power.Spoiler:
Decisively, she charges forward, sword poised to cut the monster in half. Then, the creature howls: body crouched low, lungs filling with air, and a grotesquely wide jaw wholly opened. Breathing is expelled as pressure waves, yet no sound comes out of its mouth.
The world collapses around it.
Snow all but disintegrates, revealing concrete that cracks in spider-web-like crisscrossing lines. Nearby buildings shudder, crack, and in the case of the nearest ones, utterly shatter and collapse, pulling whole squads of Nazi soldiers to their doom. Debris rains and floats, mixes with the dispersed snow, and creates a thick white cloud that conceals everything. Maria is completely paralyzed, her own body vibrating violently, her bones complaining as they, too, are riddled with microfissures. Her eyes shudder like they wish to jump out of her face. Countless capillaries break, tinting her eyes and skin a deathly red.
When the “howling” ends, and the beast lunges at her, there is nothing she can do. The swatting of its clawed hand launches her backwards like a ragdoll, striking the wall of the very same house where Javier Lucero met Sakura Edelfelt at terrible speed.
Maria coughs as she pushes herself on her hands and feet. Her back is killing her, dust sneaks up her nostrils, and the house around her groans as it has lost its front wall.
“Fuck, that SOB hits like a motherfucker,” she mutters between bouts of coughing. Her body is still out of it, struggling to listen to her mind’s commands.
“That…wasn’t magecraft…”
No, it was the very physical phenomenon of mechanical resonance disaster, and therefore not subject to Saver’s superlative Magic Resistance. She has no time to put thought into it, though, as the white and grey cloud of debris and snow surrounding her is forcefully replaced by a foul, vilely colored gas.
“Poison!?”
Maria quickly brings her free hand to her face, as if it could do a better job than the mask already covering her nose and mouth. Her next mistake is trusting her high Endurance to keep her safe until she gets out of the poison gas.
She does not see the creature finish expelling the gas from its distended maw, and then stretch a single arm into the dark-colored cloud. She does not see it flick its dire claws, creating the smallest spark.
The very inflammable gas ignites, swallowing Maria, and the entire house, in a gigantic fireball.
(BGM STOP)
*** ***
A block away from the Drake Family Residence
Severe Cold (-19 °C/-2.2 °F)
The last soldier breaks apart, shattering into worthless particles of magical energy. A long, sinuous stinger pulls away, no longer piercing through the artificial soldier’s chest. It was the soldier’s mistake to attack, but can it be called a mistake if they are only capable of obeying instructions? They were commanded to attack a creature that otherwise would not have paid them any heed, and were effortlessly undone by their insolence. Their bullets, enchanted with a rune of death capable of harming even Servants, harmlessly bounced off the creature’s carapace-like skin. Then again, even if the bullets do not pierce, the “concept of death” imbued upon them should be able to act solely on contact.
Yet, the soldiers are no longer, and the monster still stands.
The creature has only one prerogative and obeys a single command: to end all life. The powers bestowed upon it by its almighty mother allow it to track all living things, and its eyes are fixated on the two-story house in the distance, less than a hundred meters ahead. It is only vaguely aware of the slow, lifeless figure skulking around, watching it from behind broken windows and nearby ceilings. It pays no attention to the vaguely human-sized lumps in the snow-covered streets.Spoiler:
Its calm, predatory march towards its targets is only interrupted when a figure leaps from a nearby ceiling to land some ten meters ahead of it.
(BGM)
The aged, filthy cloak cannot hide her feminine figure, nor the tuffs of platinum blonde hair poking out of her hood, nor the abject hostility blazing in her demonic red eyes.
“You are not touching him—them! You are not touching them,” she declares, scratching her cheek over the hood while skittishly looking around for witnesses to her faux pas.
She knows, however, that it is an empty gesture. The creature will not turn back, nor will it be cowed by her presence. If anything, she has just become a more immediate target.
Two monstrous arms emerge from inside the cloak, grown to bizarre proportions, each hand almost as large as her trunk. The hands look swollen and malformed, and the skin is tinted as if the limbs were terribly broken, and every blood vessel within had been torn apart. But, it is not the appearance of the limbs that elicits a reaction from the monster.
It is that which envelops them.
A dark, unhallowed aura surges out of the scorpion man’s body, swirling and biting the air with primordial might.
“Melam. Of course.” Assassin mutters matter-of-factly. “Well, sorry for not having a battle aura. I don’t belong to that ridiculous ancient Mesopotamian texture. Unfortunately for you,”
That which envelops Assassin’s arms seeps out in greater amounts, a deep, thick, syrupy darkness that devours all light, all purity, all that is right and proper in the world.
“I have something way more dangerous.”
Monster and Servant charge at each other, and countless undead leap out of their hiding spots to throw themselves at their master’s dire enemy.
*** ***
Drake Family Residence
Severe Cold (-19 °C/-2.2 °F)
(BGM)Character Status
There have been no major sounds of fighting after that massive explosion I heard on the way here. On the other hand, Maria is still not here, and there is no guarantee of her arriving any time soon. However…
“Sakura, you saw what happened last time. Can you…really deal with that?”
The Eastern beauty shrugs lamely.
“Somebody has to. That explosion earlier was Maria, wasn’t she? If she is fighting a Servant, then we really cannot burden her with this as well. I’ll do it.”
“Do you even have a plan?”
Sakura glances at her gloved hands. It is impossible to tell what goes through her mind, but there is clearly a profound story behind her gaudy hand wear. She has people awaiting her outside of this frozen city, plenty of reasons to survive at all costs. Yet, she is willing to endanger herself for the possibility, not even the certainty, to save a person she just met a few days ago.
It is hard to believe, and even harder to accept, that there are still people like Sakura Edelfelt in this world. Perhaps, it is people like her who should own the world.
Eventually, she takes off the right glove, the one adorned with a large red gem, and stores it in her jacket’s pocket. She clenches and relaxes her left hand several times, her eyes still fixated on the colorless gem.
“…something like that.”
She looks at the ice block, and the vaguely visible figure within.
“I owe it to Mrs. Alicia.”
No, you don’t. This is in no way a proportionate payment for a family’s hospitality.
“Please let me do this.”
Please don’t look at me like that. I feel minuscule in your presence.
Sakura Edelfelt might just be the strongest person in this frozen Valparaiso.
“…alright. Let’s do this.”
Again, I sit cross-legged in front of the ice block. Sakura stands to my right, right hand wrapped around her left wrist, eyes fixated on the clenched fist. However, I can no longer worry about Sakura. I have my own part to deal with. It is time to turn on the magic.
I call upon the feeling: my arms, burning as if submerged in boiling water. All sensation in my arms is replaced by unbearable pain, just before that same pain leaps to my face—
“Öffne,” murmurs Sakura to my side.
It is warm. Warmth spreads from the center of my chest throughout my body. It is intense, yet doesn’t feel wasteful anymore. This flame belongs to me.
I wait, all the while tending to the flame, stoking it with my will, readying it for its eventual purpose. This fire…is no longer just my life. It is something else, something greater than me. I cannot fear it; if I fear it, it will consume me. I must make it my own, but, what cost will I have to pay for that privilege?Status Change
“Es gehört nicht zu dieser Welt.
Es lehnt alles ab, was nicht von dieser Welt ist.
Es ist das Licht des Falschen, das alle falschen Dinge verschlingt.”
It is the first time I listen to a magical incantation. Thinking of it, I have yet to see Maria’s magecraft. Then again, when she has the powers of an ancient, legendary hero, there is little need for the talents of a magus.
What is the purpose of those words? What does Sakura intend to do? I guess I’m about to find out—
(BGM STOP)
(SFX)
The explosion brings everybody out of our concentration, Sakura all but jumping on the spot.
That was close.
That was way too fucking close. A block away, tops.
Sakura looks down at me, likely mirroring my thoughts in her mind. What—
(BGM)
For a moment, it is like the sun has risen again, piercing through the snow and ice, bathing everything in gold. Oliver cries out, blinded as everybody else, myself included. Even with my back to the outside world, such is the intensity of this sudden flash that my retinas are flooded with white.Spoiler:
My sight is gone, but my hearing works just fine. Like the thunder that follows lightning, the golden flash is followed by a scream, a shout, a war cry, a celebration and a promise, all within a single, prolonged sound that fills the frozen city. Louder than any explosion, the inhuman sound makes my stomach sink and my body hair stand to attention. The inner flame flickers as if humbled, and a sheen of cold sweat rapidly forms, and is just as rapidly absorbed by the innermost layer of clothing.
“Wha…wha…” Oliver murmurs somewhere to the side. He is afraid. I can’t blame him. I am terrified. It is the cold certainty which chills the heart. The complete assurance that something terrible has happened, is happening, and will happen very soon. The death of hope, and the world unraveling around you. This sound is all those things.
The embodiment of all disasters.
It is a sound no human being should be able to make. But it is unmistakably a sound made by a human being.
“Mister Javier…”
Sakura’s trembling voice is the direst of omens. I feel her hand on my shoulder. It is the ungloved right hand, so she must have turned towards the single entrance and exit to Oliver Drake’s workshop. Has she already regained her sight? No, that’s not important.
She knows. She can tell. Of course she can tell, she is probably more perceptive of these things, and even I can tell.
“Mister Javier, that is…!”
Yes, it is.
“Maria…!”
Critical Choice
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Originally Posted by Arashi_Leonhart
