Chapter 190 |
Back in the foyer of the Mana Well Chamber, the silence was thick enough to be carved with a knife. Time seemed to have frozen solid the moment Bel of the Abyss and Leonard S. Dunning both vanished. The only thing that broke the stillness of the picture was the slow, deliberate drip of crimson lifeblood from the black thorn that had pierced Bel's chest, now suspended in mid-air where he once stood. The spire of abyssal magic, a monument to Crowy's sudden betrayal, remained for a heartbeat, then it turned into a viscous liquid and was greedily sucked back into the Abyssal Lord's outstretched hand.
Noir Irdu Inanna stood motionless for a moment, his chest heaving, his face a curious mixture of disbelief and raw, unbridled elation. He had done it. He had killed the Emperor. Nothing stood between him and the culmination of his ravenous ambitions anymore. Nothing, except for the cluster of young heroes arrayed in front of him.
Penelope Dunning was the first to break the spell of stillness. Her knuckles, wrapped around the hilt of her zweihander, were bone-white. A tremor ran through her arm, vibrating up the blade, a silent chord of fury and confusion.
"Knave!" she yelled as she levelled her weapon at him, and the single word rang with the force of a war cry. "Have you no shame?! Even if it's Bel of the Abyss, you can't just stab someone in the back like that! It's just not done!"
Her words were harsh and determined, yet her mind raced, and her eyes fluttered left and right, looking for traces of her brother. There was nothing. Not a single scrap of shimmering ether, not an echo of displaced air. They were simply gone.
"Did... did he take Brother with him, or the other way around?" she whispered, the thought a cold shard of ice in her throat.
Her confusion only lasted for but a heartbeat, and she swiftly reaffirmed her grip on her sword and squared her shoulders. She knew her brother the best, or so she believed, and whatever might have happened just now, she was confident that he was safe. After all, this wasn't the first time he had shocked them with something that made no sense on the surface, only to reveal a masterful plan down the line. Come hell or high water, she had boundless, unwavering trust in his capabilities.
Her provocation was left unanswered, as Noir's lips bent into a cruel smile.
With that, he flexed his fingers, and a fresh wave of purple energy coalesced around him, a swirling vortex of malevolence that made the very air crackle with latent power.
"For too long I have been bound by the whims of a madman, a relic of ages past! He promised me the world, but delivered only chains! Now... now I shall take what is rightfully mine! The Abyss will bow before me, and then the world!"
"Tarnation!" Deus cursed in the back, her eyes blazing with the ancient fire of a Celestial Ophanim on full display. "We can't even celebrate the demise of the mothe— I mean, that accursed Bel of the Tenebrous Flames, and he's already being replaced!" She abruptly paused, and her eyes returned to their natural blue, bringing forth Angeline's question, "Wait. Are we sure Bel's dead? They just disappeared, like they usually do, didn't they?"
"{I don't think that's our biggest concern right now,}" Judy Sennoma, ever the voice of reason in the storm of chaos, interjected through the aetheric communication system embedded in everyone's enchanted equipment. Her tone was even and measured, a stark contrast to the roiling maelstrom of raw emotion threatening to consume the room. "{I'm sure the Chief is taking care of things on his end, you should focus on your situation.}"
She might not have shared Penelope's bottomless well of trust in Leonard S. Dunning, but unlike her, she was privy to knowledge that painted the situation in a different light. There was a plan, even if she knew much less about it than she'd have liked, and in her mind, it was far too soon to panic. Whatever happened just now, it had to be part of the scheme, an improbable twist in a grander narrative, orchestrated by the very person who had just vanished without a trace. There was no other way to explain why Bel of the Abyss would fall prey to such a cheap trick, a literal backstab of the most predictable vaiery.
Of course, she would have preferred it if someone, anyone, had given her at least a hint of a warning or a clue ahead of time, but she was getting used to her wishes being ignored.
"Judy's right!" Joshua Bernstein exclaimed, and the familiar heat of resolve washed over him as he raised his shield, its glossy surface catching the violet surge of power emanating from the Abyssal Lord. "I dunno where Leo's gone, but I'm sure he's fine! Our job is to stop this guy from reaching the Mana Well, and to rescue Amelia! Don't let him distract you!"
His words, so full of heroic conviction, seemed to anchor the group, pulling them back from the brink of disorientation. He was the protagonist, after all, and this was his moment to shine.
"Oh? Do you believe you have what it takes to drag me down in my moment of triumph?" Noir sneered, the purple light in his eye sockets burning brighter, hotter, a star collapsing in on itself. He began to laugh, a low, guttural sound that quickly escalated into a full-throated cackle of pure, unadulterated arrogance.
"We stopped you once; we can do it again!" Josh snapped back, but the Abyssal Lord only laughed harder, his mirth a dissonant symphony that scraped at the nerves.
"Are you talking about our skirmish at the precipice of the lair of the Magi? Fool! Do you still believe you're facing the same man you fought that day?"
With a dramatic flourish, Noir let the purple flames around him writhe and coalesce, drawing in the very light of the room. The vortex spun faster, tighter, and the black thorn he had used to impale Bel of the Abyss reappeared, held in a grip that seemed to be made of solidified shadow.
"I'm the man holding the pure eternal power of the Mana Wells in his hands, the New Emperor of the Abyss, the one who has surpassed Bel of the Tenebrous Flames in every conceivable way! You face a being on the precipice of godhood!"
If Leonard S. Dunning were here, he would've certainly felt a sense of discomfort. Maybe even shame. After all, it was he who raised Noir Irdu Inanna upon a pedestal and fed his ego with whispered promises of glory and grandeur, all for the sake of a masterful ruse that would culminate in this very moment. He taught him all about the artistry of villainy, the perfect cadence, the dark charisma needed to captivate an audience and hold their attention captive. Yet, what he could never instil in him was a taste for subtlety and a genuine flair for the dramatic. The result was a performance that was bombastic, overwrought, and utterly lacking in the nuance that separates a memorable antagonist from a forgettable caricature.
Of course, from the perspective of the protagonist and his faithful companions, the spectacle was anything but comedic. To them, it was a terrifying display of power, a harbinger of their impending doom.
"Well, we aren't exactly the same as we were back then either, so there's that," Josh noted to himself with a quiet confidence that belied the tremor in his hands. He wasn't wrong. They had all come a long way compared to the frantic group of unlikely heroes gathered to save a kidnapped friend on that fateful day, but none changed more than he did. During their battle at the school, he was but a confused captive freshly awakened to power he did not, could not comprehend. Now, he stood at the forefront, a beacon of determination, his powers mastered and his resolve forged in the crucible of countless battles.
The Abyssal Lord’s proclamation of newfound divinity hung in the air, a heavy, suffocating blanket of ego. With a flick of his wrist, Noir swung his sword of inky black shadows in a wide arc. The weapon seemed to slurp at the very essence of the light around it, leaving a trail of absolute darkness in its wake, a void that seemed to devour the very concept of space.
...
His sword drew a faint black haze across the air, shimmering like the air over hot asphalt on a summer's day. The purple energy radiating from Noir's form coiled around the blade like a serpent, its sinuous body pulsing with a malevolent inner light.
His stance invited Joshua to make the first move, and he obliged. He tightened the grip on the hilt of his own black blade and dashed forward, his shield held high to guard against any surprise attacks. As he closed the distance, Noir simply stood there, a smug smirk playing on his lips, waiting for the right moment to strike. He took a step forward to meet the attack, and the blades met with a resounding clang that echoed through the cavernous chamber.
However, Joshua wasn't alone. Following in his wake was a swift shadow, as Penelope, without any prior word or signal, matched his rush and appeared out of the Abyssal Lord's blind spot. Her zweihander swung down, yet, despite its awesome speed, the Abyssal Lord simply sidestepped, and the heavy blade sliced through the empty air with a woosh.
At the same instant, a dragon's roar filled the air, a guttural, primal sound that spoke of fire and fury. A torrent of crimson light erupted from the right, forcing Noir to erect a barrier of purple energy to shield himself from the scorching heat. It held, but then, a volley of golden flames rained down from above, peppering the shimmering shield and sputtering against its surface with angry hisses.
Noir's focus was scattered, and it was in that brief, flickering moment of distraction that the true attack came. The crimson light from Elleanor's draconic breath had served as a perfect cover for Joshua to disengage and reposition, and he was now on Noir's left, sword poised to deliver a decisive, crippling blow.
Except, as he lunged, the very ground beneath his feet seemed to liquefy, then solidify, as it reached up to ensnare his legs. He tried to pull away, but it was too late. The tar-like substance, the same one that had been used to trap the Chimera, had now been repurposed to bind him, its sticky, unyielding grasp a shackle from which he could not easily break free.
"Boy!" Deus yelled from the air and drew back the string of her bow, a searing arrow of celestial fire already nocked and ready to fly. This time, it wasn't aimed at the Abyssal Lord, but at the feet of the ensnared Joshua. The arrow struck the black tar and exploded in a brilliant flash of light, weakening it just long enough for him to break through, the mystic substance cracking like glass around his ankles.
The four of them worked together with perfect timing, yet the few seconds it took for Joshua to regain his mobility were enough for Noir to usurp the pace of the battle from them. Now free, the young hero sprang back, his shield raised to ward off another shadow blade that sought to cleave him in two, and he could see the Abyssal Lord's face, twisted into a mask of utter contempt.
The Abyssal Lord was a whirlwind of motion, a storm of dark energy and deadly intent. He moved with a fluid grace, each step a calculated manoeuvre to keep them at bay. His shadow blade sang a deadly song as it danced through the air, meeting each attack with a deft precision that spoke of years of relentless training and a deep understanding of the art of combat. He was not just a brute force of nature, but a cunning tactician, a predator who knew how to exploit the slightest weakness, the smallest opening in their defences.
Despite fighting four of them at once, he dominated the encounter, and he would have continued to do so if Joshua hadn't come up with a plan in a hurry.
"Elly! Tag in!" he yelled and jumped back, allowing Eleanor Dracis to rush in and take his place.
She obliged, and as soon as she was in range, Noir lunged at her with a wide, sweeping strike. The attack was as wild as it was powerful, but she held her ground, her hands moving in a fluent motion to deflect the strike. The Wards of her Magiformer groaned and teared under the stress, but she still managed to hold out, her face a mask of intense concentration. In response, the Abyssal Lord lunged at her with a wide, sweeping strike, but not fast enough.
"Deus, stay back and keep firing! Penny, tag out!"
Unlike their usual bickering, Penelope followed his order without any complaints. She disengaged and retreated, allowing Josh to rush in, shield raised and blade drawn back for a quick stab.
Noir, feeling the tempo of the fight escaping his control, exhaled a growl and pivoted on the ball of his foot and slipped out of the way, in a literal sense of the word, his feet sliding across the floor as though he were walking on frictionless ice. Then, akin to camera footage played in reverse, he returned to his original position with the same slippery motions and slammed his free palm into Joshua's shield, creating an amethyst explosion that forced him back.
Before he could do anything more, a series of golden magic missiles peppered the ground around him, each one a tiny, glittering star that exploded into a shower of light upon impact. He could have ignored them, but they were a distraction, a nuisance that forced him to give ground.
"Penny, tag in!" Josh yelled again, and like a well-oiled machine, she swapped places with him.
This dance of steel and sorcery continued, a relentless cycle of aggression and tactical withdrawal, each member of the group stepping into the fray, trading blows with the Abyssal Lord, then yielding to the next in line. They fought with a cohesion that belied the chaos of the battle, their movements a testament to both relentless training and practical experience.
It was then that colour drained from the world, and the silent maws of bone-white predation swept across the—
The white tide of—
The hall... was tinted with flashes of violent lights. The clang of steel was a constant, a percussive beat to the symphony of destruction, each note a testament to the desperation and determination of the combatants. The air was thick with mana and a palpable tension that hung heavy in the chamber.
The flaring violet of the Abyssal Lord's aura clashed with the golden radiance of Deus's celestial arrows, while the crimson incandescence of Elly's dragonfire painted the walls in hues of wrath and fury, streaked by the black and silver locusts drawn by the blades of Joshua and Penelope. The very ground was a tapestry of scorch marks and fractured stone, a battlefield scarred by the relentless exchange of blows and painted by the colours of their powers.
Yet, one hue was conspicuously missing. It was the alabaster of the myriad fangs and—
...
Yet, one hue was conspicuously missing. The icy blue of Neige Liliam Inanna-Dunning's magic was nowhere to be seen. She had remained in the back, wreathed in a familiar sheen of pale orange light, her hands moving in a complex series of gestures.
She knew that she was a liability. Years of subjugation by her brother left scars in her mind that made her an easy target for the Abyssal Lord, and the mere sight of him was enough to send a shiver down her spine, a cold dread that threatened to paralyse her limbs and cloud her judgement. She was well aware, and so she didn't even try to get into the fray. That, however, didn't mean she would remain idle forever.
"{Beluga to Polar Whale.}" Judy's voice in the communicator made Neige tense up, and her hands stopped moving for a brief moment. "{Be prepared to move out on my mark, over.}"
Neige sucked in a deep breath, and her hands resumed their intricate dance.
A strange feeling of detachment washed over her, and she watched the battle unfold in front of her as if through a pane of glass, a silent observer to a spectacle of violence and valour. It felt unfair to be the only one spared from this ordeal, even if she knew that it was for the best. She had her own role to play, and the time was nigh.
"Elly, tag in!" Josh yelled, and following the pattern, Noir instinctively turned to face the direction he had last seen Eleanor.
Except...
"Hi-yah!" Penelope rushed in, taking the Abyssal Lord by surprise. Her weapon held high, she exclaimed, "Nagaregawa Zan!", yet another esoteric yet mighty technique she had learned from Rinne 'Mountain Girl' Yamako. Her blade shone with a bright light, its usual silver sheen tinted with a hint of pink as she rushed forward like a rosy torrent.
It was all calculated; a simple yet effective plan concocted by Joshua and made possible by Judy's cooperation through the aetheric communicator. First, they lulled the Abyssal Lord into a predictable rhythm, and then as soon as the opportunity presented itself, they broke the pattern, leaving him open for a powerful attack.
He was too experienced a fighter to be caught completely off-guard, and he raised his blade to block the ambuscade, but he misjudged the force behind the strike. The two blades met with a deafening clang, the impact a concussive blast that sent a shockwave through the chamber, but Penelope's zweihander didn't stop. Already off-balance, the Abyssal man had no choice but to retreat by spreading his wings and taking to the air.
But that was exactly what they wanted him to do. Despite their best efforts, they failed to dislodge him until now; no matter what, he would return to the crooked gates leading into the Mana Well Chamber, guarding the entrance with an almost religious zeal. Now, however, they finally managed to push him back and, for a brief moment, clear the path.
That was all Neige needed.
"{Polar Whale, go, go, go.}"
She had been preparing this moment for a while, weaving a complex spell that now snapped into place with the final, decisive gesture. She spread her own wings as her Concealment Sigil was undone, and a violent gust of wind erupted from her position, a focused gale that howled as it tore through the chamber. She followed its lead, and like a bullet fired from a cannon, she shot past the others and towards the broken doors. Her trajectory was a blur of motion, a comet of ice leaving a trail of shimmering frost in her wake. The Abyssal Lord, still reeling from the force of Penelope's attack, could only watch as she sailed past him, a fleeting glimpse of silver in his peripheral vision.
She slipped through the twisted maw of the entrance, and as she crossed the threshold, she was greeted by a sight that was both awe-inspiring and terrifying. The Mana Well Chamber was a cathedral of raw power, a vast shrine to the blue cube at the centre, its light pulsing with a hypnotic rhythm. Even as an heir of an Abyssal Noble House, this was only her third time seeing one, and the sheer, overwhelming presence of it made her breath catch in her throat.
It was only for a moment though, as her eyes frantically scanned the chamber and soon found Amelia. However, her relief was short-lived, as there was a familiar man standing next to her. A man made of infinite jaws and maws and bones and claws and—
...
There was a familiar man standing next to her, and as soon as their eyes met, the Ninurta patriarch, still covered in bandages after his last encounter with Joshua's companions, let out a throaty roar and pointed his hand at her.
"Begone!"
A wave of heat washed over her as a massive fireball materialised out of thin air and shot towards her. She was still carried by the wind blast she had previously conjured, so the best she could do was to instinctively ball up to make herself as small a target as possible.
The blast of heat washed over her, straining against the Wards of her Magiformer, but they held, their protective glow flickering but unyielding, yet the impact and her posture made her lose all momentum and she crashed onto the ground hard.
She rolled and came to a stop, the world a dizzying blur of pain and confusion. The impact had knocked the wind out of her, but adrenaline was a potent anaesthetic, and she scrambled to her feet, her gaze darting towards her opponent. It appeared the Abyssal Aristocrat only just recognised the person he was facing, and his face contorted into a scowl.
The Ninurta patriarch wasn't a man of half-measures though, and he immediately conjured another fireball, which he would've no doubt launched with the same ferocity if he wasn't interrupted by the deafening sound of the chamber's doors exploding inwards.
Their hinges failed, torn from the stone with a screech of tortured metal, and the great slabs of steel were hurled across the chamber like discarded toys, turning into endless fragments of ever-hungry jaws and beaks and snouts and maws violently devouring all that ever was, had been, or will be in a cacophony of—
... countless fragments of ever-scratching claws and talons and pincers and—
... myriad pieces of twisted and broken metal littering the floor…
... as the terrifying vision of a planet made of endless plains of yellowed, living bone made its way through the open doorway, its shape shifting and shimmering to—
... as the Abyssal Lord burst through, bringing the battle to its next stage, inside the Mana Well Chamber itself.
The whole Chamber shook, the blue glare of the Mana Well and Noir's flaring violet aura vying for dominance over the ambient light of the room, and they cast the Ninurta patriarch's face in a bizarre mixture of colours. The bandaged aristocrat turned to face the newcomer with a look of shock, and his spell lost coherence, the fireball in his palm sputtering and dying with a sad fizzle.
"Lord Herald! I have things under control here! You don't need to—"
"Silence!" Noir roared, and the whole Chamber shook again, this time from the sheer force of the Abyssal Lord's indignation. "Keep guarding the Mana Well! Your Emperor demands it!"
The Abyssal aristocrat's eyes opened wide like a cornered hare's, looking left and right with a mild yet visible sense of confusion written clearly on his face.
"Is Lord Bel of the Abyss here? Where?"
"Quit your babbling!" Noir's patience, never a plentiful resource to begin with, was wearing thin, and he made an irate gesture with his free arm, a sharp, cutting motion full of frustration. "When your Emperor demands that you jump, your only concern should be, 'How high?' and nothing else! Now, move your sorry hide to the Well, before I forget you're one of mine!"
It was clear to see that his newfound declaration of sovereignty had gone to the Inanna Lord's head already. His management of his subordinates was rather poor at the best of times, but now it devolved into an authoritarian tantrum, complete with vague yet menacing threats that would have made a true ruler shake their head in dismay. If Leonard S. Dunning were here, he would have certainly found the display disheartening to a degree, a sour note in an otherwise meticulously composed symphony. But then again, he was the one who gave this fledgling tyrant the baton in the first place, and now he had to suffer the dissonant music.
"All right, but..." The Ninurta patriarch glanced around for the second time. "Where is the Lord of Nergal?"
His question found no answer, as Noir was already focusing on someone else.
"You! How much longer!?"
Amelia Rhearn, standing at the side of the Mana Well, didn't respond. She stood still, a solitary figure bathed in the ethereal luminescence of the Well, as if she were a statue carved from frozen starlight and forgotten dreams.
The blue of her gown was not a single shade, but a liquid spectrum, shifting from the pale, almost-white of a winter dawn sky to the deep, impossible indigo of the abyssal trenches where light surrenders completely. The fabric moved with a will of its own, a silent cascade that clung to her form in some places, only to billow out in others like plumes of smoke trapped in water, its surface catching the Well's radiance and fracturing it into a million fleeting motes of sapphire and azure. Her curves were subtly emphasised by the subtle folds of the dress hugging—
...
Amelia Rhearn remained motionless, but not the entity by her side. The avatar of the Grimoire of the Last Truth hovered within her arm's reach, a figure spun from pure golden light. Her essence was a faint, honeyed luminescence, her voluptuous body barely more substantial than a mirage shimmering over sun-baked asphalt. Her toga was woven from this same auric substance, a simple, flowing drape of liquid light that clung to one shoulder and fell in shimmering, translucent folds, its edges bleeding into the—
"Report: Connection with the Terminal of the Asphodelòs Sub-System was successfully established." Her voice was simultaneously melodic yet placid, something the Lord of Inanna and self-appointed Emperor cared little about. Under the pressure of his urging glare, she continued, "Authorization credentials are accepted. Reconfiguration of the Asphodelòs Sub-System and updates are in process, and—"
"Stop speaking in riddles and answer my question, spirit!" Noir growled, his impatience flaring. "How much longer until this Well can be bent to my will?"
It was clear he did not understand the intricate nature of the process, yet the avatar of the Grimoire patiently explained, "Warning: Establishing direct Reservoir connection with the Asphodelòs Sub-System Terminal before all protocol updates are complete is not advised. Suggestion: Please stand by until maintenance is finished. Estimated time of completion: sixteen minutes and thirty-four seconds."
"Hurry it up!"
"Response: The update process is already proceeding at maximum efficiency. Conclusion: It's done when it's done."
Noir fortunately didn't hear her flippant last remark, as his attention was drawn to the doorway where Joshua and his companions were about to pour in. He took a step towards the entrance, then he stopped, as if he remembered something, and turned back to the bandaged patriarch.
"Guard the girl and her spirit! Ensure that they are not interrupted, no matter the cost! The future of the Abyss hangs in the balance!"
The Head of the Ninurta family looked none too pleased by his domineering command, but he obeyed, moving to stand between the Well and the oncoming heroes.
The air in the cavernous chamber was thick, a soupy mix of charged mana and anticipation. The ambient light was a bizarre, swirling chiaroscuro, the deep, hypnotic pulse of the Mana Well at the centre casting long, dancing shadows that wrestled with the aggressive violet glare emanating from Noir.
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While the Lord of Inanna was occupied with the Ninurta aristocrat and the avatar of the Grimoire, Joshua and the rest of the party had ample time to regroup and gather their wits. They burst through the damaged entrance in a hurried yet organised formation. Their entrance was not a chaotic scramble but a purposeful charge, and their first target wasn't Noir, or even the other patriarch, but the Abyssal girl still recovering from her rough landing.
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"Lili! Are you all right?"
"Y-Yes, I think..." Neige muttered as soon as Joshua stopped next to her, shield raised. She did her best to stand tall, but while the Wards protected her from the brunt of the fireball's damage, they couldn't completely negate the impact. A throbbing ache radiated through her entire being, and the tips of her twin tails were left singed from the scorching heat. "Sorry... I couldn't reach Amelia..." she added, a tinge of guilt and regret clear in her voice.
"Don't worry about it," Penelope said, her eyes already locked onto the Ninurta patriarch. "Nobody expected him to be here."
"I should've..." Joshua noted with a sour grimace, but quickly shook the thought away. It was a mistake born of ignorance, not a failure of judgment. The Ninurta patriarch was here, and that meant the battle plan had to be adjusted on the fly. "Penny, Elly, we take point and keep Noir busy, like before. Angie, Lili, do you think you can take down the other guy and get to Ammy?"
"Who do you take me for, Boy?" Deus asked as she landed next to him, "Didn't I already send him flying once?" All of a sudden, the colour of her eyes shifted, and she continued with a considerably less boisterous, "But we ambushed him back then in Digirmah, didn't we?" Yet, Angeline's objection only earned her a soft scoff when she gave control to Deus once again, followed by a supremely confident, "It's all the same! He shall fall!"
"I... I will try," Neige's response wasn't anywhere near so confident. Her gaze peeked at Noir, but a shudder later, she forcefully shook her head and brought forth her leathery wings and took to the air. The temperature around her plunged as a baker's dozen of familiar, thin icicles appeared in a circle around her. "I'll take the lead!"
"That's the spirit, Companion!" Deus exclaimed with a daredevil grin and a hearty laugh that was soon cut short as Noir turned to face them, the purple maelstrom around him swirling with renewed vigour, eager for the clash to recommence.
Further words were unnecessary. Like a well-oiled machine, the group divided into two, each set in their task and ready to tackle their designated foes. Deus, her arrow of Celestial light already nocked and ready, took to the air with a powerful flap of her wings, her movements a fluid dance of grace and purpose. Neige, still nursing a dull ache, followed suit, her icy arsenal a stark, chilling counterpoint to Deus's fiery resolve.
Meanwhile, Eleanor took point on the ground, lunging at the Inanna patriarch with a feral roar that echoed the dragon within. Without prior notice, she turned off her Magiformer, and her Draconian form burst forth like a tempest, her body swelling with primal power, her crimson scales shimmering like a thousand tiny jewels under the strange, shifting light of the chamber.
Noir was momentarily caught off-guard by her swift advance, but he braced himself, his sword of dark energy humming with a hungry thirst for blood. He met her charge head-on, a clash of titanic forces that shook the very foundations of the chamber.
"A feint to draw my attention. A clever, if predictable, stratagem," the Abyssal Lord sneered, a cruel smile playing on his lips as he effortlessly parried her initial attack. Then he thrust forth, aiming at the girl's chest, and running her through in a single-
Then he swung his blade, severing her neck with-
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Before Noir could respond, Eleanor's fist connected with the Abyssal Lord's jaw, sending him stumbling back a few steps.
"You... insolent whelp! You will pay for that!" he roared, and the purple flames around him flared with renewed vigour, a swirling vortex of malevolence that made the very air crackle with latent power.
Yet, despite her advantage, Elanor failed to press her attack and stood still, eyes open wide. If not for Joshua's intervention, it could've led to Noir capitalising on her hesitation. He rushed in, shield raised, and forced the Abyssal Lord to take a step back, a quick series of strikes keeping him off balance and preventing him from launching a counter-attack.
"What happened? Are you hurt?" Penelope asked as she came to a halt next to her, her sword at the ready.
"I... I think I just..." She reached for her neck in a daze, but quickly shook off the torpor and forced a grimace. "I'm fine! Let's go!"
A glint of light reflected off the ring on the hand touching her neck. It was the gift Leonard S. Dunning gave her, a token of his sincere affections; an inconspicuous yet mighty artifact that anchored her inside the deepest layers of the Simulacrum. It had already proven that it could delay or even partially resist the effects of retroactive continuity, so it should not have been a surprise that she could grasp a glimpse of a future present that never was.
It was fortunate that her strength of will was paired with a flexible mind endlessly tolerant of the strange and inexplicable, relentlessly acclimated to the impossible by her fiancé's daily exploits. Nevertheless, not having to face the shadow of death in such a situation would have been definitely a more preferable outcome.
The three melee combatants threw themselves at Noir with renewed vigour. Joshua led the charge, a storm of righteous fury, his shield held high. Penelope followed, her zweihander a gleaming arc of silver, poised to strike. Finally, Eleanor, her Draconian form growing even more pronounced by the second, her horns growing larger and more defined and her fingertips elongating into vicious talons that could tear through steel as if it were paper.
The Mana Well's cold light cast long, dancing shadows, a silent witness to the storm about to break. The Abyssal Lord stood as a lone peak against which the tide of heroes was about to crash. His aura, that violet torrent of abyssal might, was no mere shield; it was a domain, a declaration of intent that twisted the very air of the chamber to his will. The air grew heavy, each breath tasting of ambition and decay.
Penelope was the first to move. She did not run; she flowed. Her steps were rooted, yet swift, a perfect expression of the Firmament-Flowing Step. Her zweihander, the Moon-Tide Ender, was no longer mere steel but an extension of her own domain, a river of silver intent. Her technique was not one of brute force, but of overwhelming presence.
She was closely followed by Joshua, his technique less refined, a combination of self-taught swordsmanship and the shield techniques the Celestial Praetorian Guard had managed to impart upon him. His form was the Adamant-Stance, a bulwark of unyielding resolve, and his movements were as solid as the mountains. There were no wasted motions, no flourishes. Only efficient stabs and slashes from behind the bulwark of his shield. Rounding off the trio was Eleanor, her Draconian form now fully realised, a tempest of movement, primal power augmented by martial arts learned since childhood.
A mountain of righteous fury, a tide of moonlit steel, and a tempest of draconic might clashed against the amethyst rage of the Abyssal Lord's ambition. His shadow blade was a willow in the wind, and his face set in a sneer of dominance that could shake the heaveans.
«Ř§Ů‡я√ðsžšåÞя舐 Þ¥¿舐©»
«æآà identify ðsžšåÞя£ Domain»
While the vanguard of light and shadow engaged in their earth-shattering duel, a secondary, yet no less critical, battle erupted upon the other side of the chamber. Here, the combatants waged their war not with the ringing of steel, but with the primordial fury of the elements themselves.
The Ninurta Patriarch, a mountain of bandaged flesh and simmering resentment, stood sentinel before the Mana Well. His mana was a seething furnace of yang essence, a wildfire yearning to consume. His very presence warped the air, creating shimmering heat-hazes that made him appear as a distorted, vengeful spirit haunting a sacred grove.
Deus met his fire with fire. She hung suspended in the air, a Celestial sovereign gazing down upon a mortal affront. Her four pairs of blazing Ophanim wings did not flap but shimmered, each feather a mote of condensed sunlight. The bow in her sang with a confluence of fire and starlight, the Astral Judgement Bow. When she drew the string and aimed down, it was like a god drawing a line to cleave the heavens from the earth. Her arrows were not mere projectiles; they were divine edicts given form, comets of solar righteousness that burned with the unbearable light of a collapsing star.
On the side, Neige was a study in yin's cold, silent grace. She was no longer a mere Abyssal scion; she was an Ice Jade Ascendant, a maiden of the frozen peaks whose very breath could crystallise the air. Her magic flowed from her as ink dropped into water, dark and beautiful, weaving patterns of frost that merged with the icy spears surrounding her, reinforcing them, making them more potent and deadly.
Their clash was a symphony of ice and fire, a tale as old as the dawning of the world.
"Insolent Celestial!" The Ninurta Patriarch roared, his voice a grinding of rock and magma. "You dare challenge the might of a Lord of the Abyss?!"
"You're no lord, you pathetic tergivestator, you're nothing but a fool chasing the coattails of Bel of the Abyss! Now that he's dead, you're nothing but a dog with no master!"
"... Wait. What do you mean the Emperor is—?"
Before he could finish, Deus let loose an arrow of pure Celestial fire, and for a brief moment, its light overwhelmed even the Mana Well.
The Patriarch raised a barrier of seething crimson energy, and the arrow slammed into it, cracking its surface with a shower of sparks and steam. He grunted under the strain, but the barrier held, the heat of the projectile and the barrier melding together, creating a shimmering, distorted shield that rippled like a lake in a storm.
At the same time, Neige made her move. She didn't charge, but instead, she gracefully danced through the air, her movements a silent, flowing river of ice and intent. Her icicles, now gleaming with an inner light, shot forward, not in a straight line, but in a complex, spiralling pattern that seemed to defy the very laws of physics. They were like a swarm of giant silver needles, each one a miniature, focused shard of absolute zero, seeking to find a weakness in the Patriarch's defences.
«ðsžšåÞяñâmå• presence ‚ا٠obstacle╟. €š�ا٩ identify yourself»
The true awesome fire of Deus clashed with the dark crimson of the Patriarch's barrier, a titanic struggle of opposing forces that sent shockwaves through the chamber and-
...
Joshua, Eleanor, and Penny worked together to execute an ingenious plan that required exquisite teamwork, and what a plan it was! A cascade of flawless, interconnected actions, a piece of tactical clockwork so exquisitely machined it would have brought a tear to the eye of any master strategist. A tapestry woven from threads of pure, unadulterated audacity, where every feint, every parry, every near-miss was not a frantic act of desperation but a deliberate, premeditated brushstroke on the canvas of victory! It would have been the shame of a lifetime to miss such a masterful display of martial might and tactical acumen, its peerless awesomeness beyond compare, so it was fortunate that everyone paid close attention and observed every second of it.
...
Noir reeled back from the trio's expertly coordinated attack, and he let out a vicious growl. His aura flared more violently than ever, pushing them back, but just like how Deus was limited in her destructive capabilities by the enclosure of the Mana Well Chamber and unable to call upon her most powerful spells, Noir could also not risk the destruction of the room.
"How much longer?!" he roared over his shoulder, the question aimed and the holographic woman still floating by the blue cube.
"Response: Finalizing connection. Aetheric link stabilization in progress," she responded, her tone a flat monotone, completely unfazed by the chaos that was consuming the room. "Estimated completion: three minutes and fourteen seconds."
The Abyssal Lord exhaled a guttural growl and yelled, "I tire of this! Give me the Mana Well, now!"
"Warning: Establishing a connection between the Terminal and Reservoir Onoképhalos before all updates are complete is not—"
"Silence! I command you!"
A strange, golden light enveloped Amelia, and the Grimoire avatar's form flickered for a moment. She turned to face, and after a long beat, she replied, "Acknowledged. Asphodelòs Sub-System connection established. Bypassing safety protocols. Finalizing control transfer to Reservoir Onoképhalos."
"Yes! YES!"
In just a moment, the violet aura surrounding Noir surged beyond control, a maelstrom of pure, unadulterated power. The light of the Mana Well, which had until now been a calm, rhythmic pulse, flared with a blinding intensity.
"Oh, crap!" Josh yelped and set his feet, his shield raised and its surface glowing bright, though it was barely seen in the blinding glare. "Brace yourselves!"
The vortex of Abyssal power swirled around Noir, and he was at its epicentre. The outlines of his body twisted under the sheer force of the energy flowing through him. His laughter, once a booming, arrogant cackle, now had a new, more terrifying resonance, and a wave of energy exploded outwards in all directions.
It was a strange sight. One moment, they were deep under Castle Shamash, and yet once the light subsided, they were all outside, the light of the morning sun gently illuminating their surroundings and strong winds rushing from all directions. The ground beneath their feet was a featureless grey, and as Joshua glanced around, he was startled to see that the chamber was gone, along with over half of the castle.
"W-What happened?" Neige called out from above, looking shocked beyond belief. "Is everyone all right?"
"I'm fine!" Deus exclaimed from another direction, followed by Penelope.
"The same here!" she added, though her voice was strained from the effort.
"Where's the castle?" Eleanor asked in disbelief.
They were all standing inside a circular crater with only the Mana Well and its pedestal remaining of the original chamber. Everything over their head; the castle walls, the courtyard, the towers... all of them were gone, as if erased from existence by a sloppy hand. Yet, nobody was hurt. Everyone remained completely unharmed and standing on their own two feet.
The lull didn't last for long.
"Hahaha!" While his aura was nowhere near as blinding as it was inside the enclosed space of the Mana Well Chamber, Noir's body was still exuding a maelstrom of violet energy that warped the air around him, and the sight of the desolation he had wrought filled him with an endless glee. "Now THIS! This is the power I was promised! This is the destiny owed to me!"
"What... What have you done?!" the Ninurta patriarch yelled in mild panic, likely the most shocked of them all by the sudden turn of events.
The Lord of Inanna paid no attention to him, yet the avatar of the Grimoire was more than happy to answer him. "Explanation: Instability in the Asphodelòs Sub-System caused localized erosion of the sub-space matrix. Entities and objects over zero-point-seventy-five Pneuma limit were unaffected."
Her words weren't understood by the nobleman, but their meaning was clear: Noir destabilised the very fabric of the Abyss, outright erasing everything his explosion of unstable light touched upon, including the very air around them, only leaving people and items possessing at least trace amounts of mana in them. The rest was simply unmade.
He didn't seem to mind or care at all, and continued to cackle with maniacal glee as he gorged on the power of the Abyss's Mana Well Network, its nigh-inexhaustible font surging through him. It, naturally, didn't leave him unmarked; his Abyssal form grew even more demonic, the horns on his head growing longer and more curved, and his leathery wings expanding in size. The aura surrounding him intensified, a swirling vortex of energy that made the very ground tremble.
"Behold!" he roared, his voice a symphony of thunder and discordant whispers. "The Emperor... No, the GOD of the Abyss ascends in front of your very eyes! And my first divine decree..." He spread his wings wide and pointed at Joshua's group from high above. "Die!"
«You ewsﾘｹｩ You are o nof I know you xﾛ縣mdeﾘｮev rht»
«You. Are rat. From before. Found you.»
The Lord of Inanna's presence towered over the ruined landscape, a dark god revelling in his newfound divinity. His form was a grotesque caricature of power, the very air around him twisting with the raw, untamed energies of the Abyss.
In comparison, Joshua and his companions seemed insignificant, small figures huddled together in a desolate wasteland. Yet, in their eyes burned a defiance that no amount of power could extinguish. The battle lines were drawn, not on a map, but in the very fabric of their wills.
Except, not all of them were gathered in one place. Using the confusion caused by Noir's explosion of world-rending power as a distraction, Neige made a stealthy, desperate gambit for their primary objective: Amelia.
The Ninurta patriarch, stunned by the sheer scale of the destruction on display, was none the wiser when she slipped past him. Her hastily woven Concealment Sigil flickered on approach, its integrity compromised by the chaotic maelstrom of ambient mana, a slight orange blur invisible to the naked eye, let alone the girl hidden under its cloak of invisibility. The disoriented bandaged aristocrat had no clue she was even there.
She approached Amelia, still standing idly by the Mana Well as if in a daze, yet she shuddered when she noticed the Abyssal girl slipping into view. Her face was a mask of confusion, her eyes wide and uncomprehending.
"Ammy!" Neige called out in a low voice and grabbed her shoulder, making her shudder. "Hold on! Let me help you and get you out of—"
The bespectacled girl's eyes opened wide, but then she hurriedly put a hand over Neige's mouth and a finger in front of her own.
"Psst! You're ruining the plan!" Amelia hissed at her, and the Abyssal girl's eyes opened wide as saucers in confusion.
"What plan?" she asked through the fingers muffling her voice.
"Leo's plan, of course," she explained in a strained whisper. "Everything is still going according to it, I think."
While they talked, the battle continued to unfold overhead, with Deus loosing a volley of golden flames in the form of swords at the Abyssal Lord, their explosive power tinting the grey landscape with fleeting shades of gold and violet. Noir cackled as he summoned layers upon layers of magical shields with contemptuous ease, his movements a blur of motion, a whirlwind of demonic grace. He was enjoying this, the sheer, unadulterated power surging through him a drug he couldn't get enough of.
It wasn't until Eleanor also took to the air and let loose an especially potent torrent of draconic fire from her mouth that Noir was forced to evade the attack with a burst of speed. The duo's attacks were clearly aimed to force him to land, where Penelope and Joshua could get at him, but he proved too nimble for their attempts.
Meanwhile, the hushed conversation by the Mana Well continued.
"Leo's plan? What plan?" Neige repeated as she took a step back from Amelia, her suspicion clearly visible on her face, her eyes glued to the choker on Amelia's neck. She was intimately familiar with its shape and purpose, and she whispered, "L-Let's get that thing off you first, okay?"
She was sure Amelia would object. It was an insidious artifact that would hold one's own mind hostage, and even the thought of removing it was supposed to be agonising. Yet, the bespectacled Magi girl didn't even flinch when Neige said that. If anything, she appeared as if she had just been reminded of something insignificant, and she casually reached up to her neck with a sigh.
"Ah, right. I don't need this anymore." She hooked her finger under the collar and, with a simple tug, the indeterminable black material tore as easily as wet paper. It fell to her feet, and then she let out a soft sigh. "I almost got used to it." It was at this point that she realised that Neige was looking at her with wide-eyed disbelief. "What? Didn't Leo tell you he modified this beforehand?"
"Yes, but... If it had no effect, why were you wearing it?"
"I had no choice. It was part of the ruse," she insisted, followed by a deep frown as she beheld the aerial confrontation between Deus and the ascended Noir. "He should be back any moment now."
Neige was getting more confused by the second and blurted out, "Who? Leo?"
Amelia nodded, and then the two of them both watched the dance of gold and violet in the red sky of the Abyss, waiting for the timely and triumphant intervention of Leonard S. Dunning. Which, of course, wouldn't come.
«Intruder/Interloper. Your presence/Domain/taste is familiar. You are inside/diffused/submerged, like He is. But you are not him. Not the troublemaker/adversary/**************/Crowned Coalescence. Who are you?»
«Matters not. Will find you. He harmonizes/conjoins/cares for you, so you will lead me to Him.»
«Time/Linear causality. Enforced/Imposed/*************. Is it you, or Him? Matters not, as well. There can be no singularity/beginning/ending. I'll ensure it.»
It was at this point that the Ninurta patriarch finally noticed Amelia's odd behaviour, and by straining his eyes, he soon discovered Neige's presence as her incomplete Concealment Sigil flickered in and out of existence. He let out a furious roar and pointed a finger at them, a crackling spear of crimson fire forming at its tip, aimed directly at the two girls.
"Get away from her!"
Yet, before he could loose the projectile, he was suddenly knocked over by a flying kick aimed right at the small of his back, his Barrier cracking and his stance crumbling from the impact. Penelope, seeing the new development, had disengaged from her futile attempt to corral Noir, and she landed gracefully on her feet next to the downed aristocrat.
Of course, one could've argued that it would've made much more sense to simply run the injured patriarch through with her zweihander, but if one asked her, she would have certainly insisted that doing so would've been contrary to her knightly code of conduct, and not that she simply wanted to do a flying kick. Nevertheless, the nobleman crashed into the ground with a pained groan, and the spear of fire in his hand sputtered out of existence.
"Snowy, quick! Take Ammy and get her out of here! I'll keep his attention!"
It was a logical division of labour. After all, she could hardly support Deus and Eleanor in the aerial battle against Noir. Even Joshua had decided to abandon the ground and take to the air himself, his shield held high as he flew straight into the path of the Lord of Inanna's descent. The clash of their weapons, a chaotic symphony of violet light and righteous golden energy, was the main event, the clash that would determine the fate of the Abyss.
There was, of course, one small thing Penelope forgot to consider: the Ninurta aristocrat could also fly. The downed patriarch pushed himself up with a pained grunt, his wings unfurling as he finally transformed, his renewed Barrier shredding his clothes and bandages in the process. It was a painful one, attested by his agonised grunts once his wounds were revealed, but he didn't hesitate.
"You wretch! I'll make sure to personally—!"
Yet, before he could make good on his threat, the proverbial cavalry arrived with Judy announcing, "{Heads down!}" through the communicator, a moment before a streak of blue lightning shot across the grey sky and slammed into the aristocrat's Barrier. The Ninurta patriarch let out a pained gasp, the sheer kinetic force of the spell sending him crashing back to the ground.
"Traitor!" the Ninhursag patriarch bellowed as he landed in the pale grey crater. He wasn't alone, as he carried Judy Sennoma and Éolienne Serua Ashur on his shoulders. He let the two of them down and pointed a finger at the Ninurta aristocrat, "I will be your opponent!"
However, as soon as he said that, the three of them were enveloped by a crimson fireball, burning them to the bones in—
...
The Ninhursag patriarch rushed forth, his whole body covered with lightning as he transformed into his full Abyssal form, his horns crackling with electricity and the ground turning black under each of his steps. He slammed into the Ninurta patriarch, the two of them rolling across the crater in a whirlwind of claws and fangs, a primal and savage struggle that lacked the elegance of the duel overhead but made up for it with sheer, unbridled ferocity.
«Strong reaction. Easy to follow/pinpoint. I will soon discover/diffuse/devour your traces/steps/fragments.»
«Meaningless inquiry. Squirming/stalling/hiding? Will find your source/fount/core/Domain soon.»
"Judy! Are you all right?!" Eleanor yelled in a panic as she landed next to Judy and Éolienne, her hands carefully tapping on her upper arms and shoulders.
In contrast, the only human girl of the group remained stone-faced, although not without a single bead of nervous sweat running down her forehead.
"You've seen that too," she stated, and the Draconian heiress immediately nodded, fully understanding her despite the vagueness of the conversation. "The Chief must be doing something." The two of them looked up at the ongoing battle between Noir and Deus, now joined by Joshua, a chaotic maelstrom of clashing colours and energies. "But we've got our own problems."
"Wait, hold on! What are you doing here?!" Amelia asked, looking genuinely confused as she ran up to them along with Neige. "And who's that?"
She was gesturing at Éolienne, and the Abyssal boy naturally shrank behind Judy's back when the unfamiliar girl in her extravagant dress approached.
"Amelia, this is Éolienne, the heir apparent of House Ashur."
"Wait, let me collect myself," she muttered as she rubbed her temple. "Wasn't he the kid locked up with Leo?"
"Y-Yes," the boy behind Judy nodded, trying to sound brave.
"Why did you take him here? And more importantly, where's Leo?"
"It was out of our control due to larger strategic considerations, and we don't know," Judy told her in a flat voice, and that gave the Magi girl another pause.
"That wasn't part of the plan..."
Penelope chimed in with a confounded, "What plan?" and after considering her options for a few seconds, Amelia decided to come clean.
"Leo sent me a letter after I was kidnapped."
"What? How?!" Penny interjected again, so Neige grabbed her shoulder to quiet her down and gave Amelia space to explain.
"It was a letter inside a rolled-up newspaper, and... Never mind, it's a long story." She pointed at the Mana Well, its light still pulsing with a steady, hypnotic rhythm in the center of the crater. "It told me to play along and help Noir. Something about giving him rope to hang himself."
"Are you sure it was a letter from Brother?" Penny continued to insist. "He didn't say anything about that on the train."
"I've seen enough of his penmanship to recognize it," Amelia declared with a huff, her brows furrowed in frustration at the repeated questioning. "And you know how he is when he's explaining his plans. Or rather, not explaining them and being all vague and mysterious."
"That does sound like Leo," Eleanor noted in a somewhat detached tone.
"And then what?" Judy pressed, her expression unreadable as ever, but the slight narrowing of her eyes betrayed her sharp focus.
"And then he was supposed to be here and do something, but he's not." Amelia's statement sounded damningly indignant, yet she followed it up with a just as clearly worried, "So... what do we do now?"
"Guys! A little help, please!?"
They all twitched in unison when hearing the cry, their heads turning towards the ongoing battle in the sky. Surrounded by lashing flames of amethyst, Joshua was holding back an enormous jet-black spike the size of a small building, its wicked point sending golden sparks every which way as it collided with his glowing shield. He gritted his teeth, the muscles in his arms corded with strain, the very air around him cracking under the sheer force of the impact.
"That," Judy stated with one finger pointing up. "We need to do something about that."
"On it!" Eleanor yelled, and she let out a primal roar that sounded like thunder tearing through a mountain pass. In the next instant, she lunged forward, her wings beating the air as she shot up into the sky, her form a blur of crimson and bronze, a comet of draconic fury.
"I'll... I'll help too!" Neige declared in the same breath, spreading her own wings wide. "There's no time to hesitate now!" A swirl of frost materialised around her, a vortex of glacial energy that coalesced into a dozen razor-sharp icicles, and she also took to the air, her movements a stark, chilling counterpoint to Eleanor's fiery charge.
"What do I do?" Penelope asked next, and after some consideration, she let out a gutsy, "I'll go help over there!"
She pointed her sword at the battle of fire and lightning unfolding between the Ninurta and Ninhursag patriarchs, and rushed in, her zweihander a gleaming arc of silver in the gloom.
While all of that was going on, Amelia sidled closer to Judy and whispered, "Seriously. Where is Leo?"
She responded with a terse, "I told you, we don't know," and put a finger on her communications artifact. "I can't reach him, so we have to do our best on our own. Fortunately, it seems like the Noble Alliance is sending reinforcements our way, but..."
"Warning."
Both Judy and Amelia twitched in surprise when the avatar of the Grimoire of the Last Truth appeared between them as if she had been there the entire time, her form a shimmering, golden mirage.
"Reservoir: Onoképhalos. Status: Unstable. Core integrity compromised. Aetheric leakage detected. Sub-System Asphodelòs critical failure imminent."
"Wait! Slow down, Grimmy! What do you mean by 'critical failure'?"
Judy turned a deadpan stare at the other girl, which screamed, 'What do you think it could possibly mean?', while the holographic woman patiently elaborated.
"Explanation: The Reservoir Onoképhalos is currently drawing in energy from the entire Asphodelòs Sub-System at an uncontrolled rate. Since the connections between the Terminals are not fully stable, this process is causing a chain reaction of escalating instabilities. At the current rate, the cascade failure will lead to a sub-space implosion estimated to occur within one hour, thirteen minutes, and—"
"You fools! Don't you realize that I have unlimited power!?"
A violet explosion shook the skies as Noir let out a cackle of insane glee, bathing the crater in its sickly light. Joshua cried out as he was thrown back, and though Deus managed to catch him mid-flight, the strain was obvious. Even with her combined might with Eleanor and Neige, they were clearly outmatched, their every desperate attack effortlessly swatted away by the self-proclaimed god.
"Correction: Fifty-nine minutes and sixteen seconds."
"What would a sub-space implosion entail?" Judy inquired before anything else.
"Explanation: The local region of sub-space will collapse and merge with the physical plane, resulting in the annihilation of all matter within a radius of the overlapping area, converting it into pure, unbound Aetheric particles."
"So, you're telling me," Amelia said as she pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration, "that we have an hour to get rid of a power-mad tyrant with godlike powers, and if we fail, the whole island goes boom?"
"Correction: The rapid release of Aetheric particles would result in an explosion of approximately three hundred zettajoules of energy."
"In layman's terms?"
"Analogy: It is roughly equivalent to the impact that caused the KT extinction event."
"In other words, the end of the world as we know it," Judy stated in a morose voice, then whispered, "I knew it would come to this. If we survive, Elly owes me another ten Jens."
"That's bad..." Éolinne noted with the understated panic of a child who had just been told the boogeyman was real and had the keys to the front door.
"Since the Chief isn't here, we can't trust the plan, but we can trust the process," Judy noted and tapped on her communicator glasses again. "Beluga to all Cetaceans, update. We have fifty-nine minutes and counting until the island turns into a dinosaur-killing kaboom. Repeat: fifty-nine minutes until we're all extinct. Please adjust your strategy accordingly. Beluga, out."
"Why, yes! Thank you!" Josh roared overhead while weaving between Noir's projectiles. "We clearly needed more pressure! Argh!"
"Focus, Boy!" Deus snapped and let loose a series of shimmering golden arrows that forced the Inanna Lord to raise a hasty, crystalline shield. The violet energy crackled against the celestial light, blinding him long enough to allow Eleanor to close the distance and pressure him in melee.
"What do I do?" Amelia asked, and once Judy finished talking, she turned to face her.
"I've got the Ninurtas' Mana Well here. Can we use it to open a gateway to Critias?"
"Negative," the avatar of the Grimoire answered before Amelia could. "While the Reservoir Onoképhalos remains connected to the Asphodelòs Sub-System, it would increase his Aetheric intake and accelerate the impending cascade failure."
"Meaning we can only use it after we defeated Noir," Judy noted with audible exasperation. "That makes our original plan effectively dead in the water. Are you sure you don't know what the Chief's secret plan was?"
"I told you everything he wrote already!" Amelia answered in mild panic. "All the letter said was to help Noir take over the Mana Well, and then he would take care of the rest. There was nothing else!"
Then, just before Judy could respond, her throat was pierced by a—
«Scent/Taste/Fragments is close. Will find you. Soon.»
…
Then, just before Judy could respond, a pair of unlikely figures descended next to them, flying low in the sky.
"Ah, Amelia. I'm glad to see you're all right," the Shamash matriarch said with a weak smile as she landed, supported by the Matron. She frowned at the girl, or maybe just her extravagant dress, and let out a soft scoff.
"There's no time for greetings." She looked around and quickly understood the situation, "We need to move. Now."
"Why?"
The question bursting out of Amelia clearly didn't please her, but she answered all the same.
"The forces of the Noble Alliance... No, you can't call them that anymore. House Gula and House Enlil are invading the town, attacking everyone indiscriminately."
"What?"
"They are like sharks, smelling blood in the water," Fidèle Basmu Shamash spoke with a mixture of pain and disappointment. "They must have realized that whoever wins the battle here would be the undisputed ruler of the Abyss."
«...»
«You are simple/predictable/naive. Easy to goad. Makes you make mistakes, easier to follow/trace/nibble.»
«Negative/Denial/Resistance. The singularity/ending/beginning cannot be allowed.»
«The convergence of causality/waves/possibilities. Divides what was/could have been and what will be/could be. Artificial segment/bulkhead/demarcation. Must not allow Him to take advantage.»
«Foolish. Keep talking/singing/projecting. Easier to find/see/devour. Sooner I find answers/truths/that which is not a lie.»
«Incapable/Impossible.»
«No. I eat/consume/devour. Not you.»