Aetheral Space

Three Months After Elysian Fields…

"It's been a while since we did this," Muzazi commented, igniting a weak training Radiant from his hand as he strolled across the room.

Aclima just grunted.

The atmosphere in the Child Garden's training room -- just like everywhere else in the Child Garden -- was terrible, to put it simply. A thick miasma seemed to hang over everything. Every word in every conversation felt heavy, cumbersome. Even glances crushed whoever they were aimed at.

It had taken Muzazi some time to recover from his injuries on Elysian Fields. Even with Panacea and the implant to repair his damaged eye, he'd had to go through quite the lengthy rehabilitation. For that reason, Morgan and Ionir had been handling Aclima's training for him -- and they'd let him know about her black mood.

It couldn't be helped. With everything that had happened on Elysian Fields… well, there wasn't a person in the world who could come out of hell smiling. Someone who could do that wouldn't be human.

Whatever the case, he was the leader of the Blades now. He had duties to fulfill.

"We'll begin with basic blocking," Muzazi continued, turning to face his young charge.

Aclima just grunted again.

For the first time, Muzazi's brow furrowed in frustration. "Is there a problem?"

"Why did you let my father die?"

A cold sweat ran over Muzazi's whole body. The sword. The sin. For the briefest of moments, it was all in front of him once again.

Murderer.

"I could have saved him," Aclima murmured, eyes down on the floor. "I could have at least tried… but you wouldn't let me."

She looked up at him, her gaze full of uncertainty.

"Why?" she demanded, voice shaking.

Muzazi took a deep breath.

"Assume the blocking stance," he said coldly.

The uncertainty hardened in those eyes, becoming something far more fiery, and Aclima raised her cleaver-sword. Her form was fine, if a little orthodox. Muzazi swung his Radiant and Aclima blocked it.

"Again."

Strike. Block.

"Again."

Strike. Block.

"Again."

Strike. Block.

"Again."

Present Day…

Muzazi plummeted down the Seat of Man's rotting gullet.

Even though thrusters were blazing all over his body, they weren't intended to keep him in the air or even slow his fall. Far from it. They were accelerating him, speeding up his descent, all so he could reach the person before him before she hit the ground.

Aclima. Cleaver-sword clutched in one hand, the rest of her body flapping in the wind. The tongue-tendrils that had originally grabbed her had let go nearly instantly. As far as they were concerned, their work was done.

As he grew closer, and closer, and closer -- how much longer did they have? -- Muzazi extended his hand.

"Aclima!" he cried over the roar of the tunnel. "Take my hand!"

To Muzazi's honest surprise, she actually did so -- reaching out and seizing hold of his extended hand with her free one.

And then she swung her sword towards his neck.

Muzazi twisted his body to avoid the blow while keeping hold of Aclima -- and as he did so, the two of them finally cleared the building's throat. The thrusters switched directions, slowing their fall as much as possible, but they still landed hard on the clear floor below. Another quick thruster sent Muzazi sliding away, just avoiding Aclima's second swing.

Forgiveness Irons' Honest Contagion had completely changed the Seat of Man -- turning it from a government building into a twisted ecosystem -- and there was no better evidence of that here. That throat had wound and twisted through the previous structure, bypassing all the existing security measures, and deposited them right on top of the Seat of Man's central cold harvest reactor.

The two of them rose to their feet, looking at each other from across the observation chamber, a large and circular room, the ceiling high above them. Far below, visible through the transparent floor, a massive cold harvest reactor spun and raged as it produced freezing power. Blue light shone upwards from the massive installation, painting grim shadows across their faces. It was almost like a swimming pool at night.

Aclima clutched the hilt of her sword with all her strength. Muzazi ignited Radiants from both hands. Slowly, like animals in the jungle, they began to circle each other.

Muzazi spoke first.

"Aclima," he forced out, the words halting and weak. "I… I came here to save you."

Aclima snorted. "Liar."

"No! It's the truth. You were still -- I thought you were still in the Supremacy, trapped there, so I was seeking support. Powerful people… I failed, they've perished, but I --"

Aclima's cold voice cut through his justifications.

"Why did you kill my father?"

Muzazi stopped. He lowered his arms, the tips of his Radiants hissing against the floor. Slowly, he took a breath.

He began. "It's not that I made a decision --"

Aclima charged at him, sword held high above her head. Purple Aether flashed as she crossed the room in a single bound, her blade already becoming a blur as she swung it. In perfect synchronicity with her Aether Core of hatred, she moved to take Muzazi's life.

Even with the surprise attack, though, speed wasn't an area Muzazi could easily be beaten in. Thrusters ignited from his elbows, pushing his arms back up -- and the blade was blocked by the cross of his Radiants. Snarling, Aclima pushed against his strength, feet skidding against the clear floor below her.

"It wasn't a decision I made!" Muzazi continued desperately, holding her back. "I spoke to him and… the things he intended, the things he said… the brutality of that place would have kept going… I couldn't take it, I just took the sword and…"

"You just wanted to be Supreme yourself!" Aclima screamed her accusation, bringing her blade down on his defense again, and again, and again. "That's why you stuck around me too, isn't it?! So you could use me! Like you did at the Dawn Contest! Curse Hand!"

A thruster ignited from Muzazi's chest, pushing him backwards just in time to avoid Aclima's wild grab. At close quarters like that, one touch could mean the end. He couldn't be careless.

But, with the turmoil raging inside his heart, he couldn't exactly bring himself to be careful, either.

"That wasn't my intention!" he insisted, sliding back across the floor as he landed. "I swear to you, Aclima! I -- I made someone a promise, a promise to become Supreme, and --"

"Curse Smoke!"

Muzazi leapt up as a torrent of purple miasma poured across the room, using thrusters to keep himself in the air.

Evade and defend, he told himself, evade and defend. He would not fight Aclima. After all he'd done to her, he couldn't strike her down too.

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"Just listen to me!" he pleaded.

"Curse Blade!"

Aclima swung her sword through the air -- and a blade of purple light launched from the weapon, firing right up towards Muzazi. He flipped, avoiding the attack, but that had been Aclima's intent. She launched herself up towards him in the instant he couldn't see her, blade ready to slice at his midsection.

He had only a second to react as he returned to an upright position.

There was no time to dodge.

There was no time to block.

If he struck at the same time, though… he could cut her before her blow landed. If he was careful, he could deliver a non-lethal blow. That way, he could at least immobilize her and talk to her that way.

No.

You don't have the right to do that.

Muzazi accepted the attack.

The blade slammed into his side and spiked him down into the floor. The clear surface resounded with the impact, producing a loud gong like that of a bell going off. If not for his focused infusion, Muzazi had no doubt that attack would have cut him in half. Aclima really had grown stronger in her hatred of him.

Was that pride he felt, then, or shame?

Aclima gave him no time to recover. As he picked himself up, she was already upon him, swinging her sword wildly. He blocked her flurry of attacks with dancing Radiants, but she showed no sign of letting up -- if anything, she was only getting faster, her frustration feeding into her hatred and intensifying her connection to her Aether Core.

"Murderer!" she screamed, tears running down her face. "Murderer! MURDERER!"

Radiant Ablaze.

Muzazi leapt back -- and as he did so, a ring of light-blades rose up from the floor, sealing Aclima between them. If she tried to touch them, she wouldn't be able to make contact -- all she'd accomplish was hurting herself. Curse Hand wouldn't be enough to get her out of there.

She glared at him from within her new prison.

"Murderer," she hissed.

Muzazi straightened up, dispelling the Radiants from his hands.

"Yes," he agreed quietly. "I am a murderer. I killed your father, Aclima."

Aclima stepped up towards the edge of the barrier.

"But you must understand. He… at the end, he was a monster. He would have killed so many. He would have… it's no excuse, but I acted on impulse. If you -- if anyone else was there, and they heard what I heard, they would have done the same."

Aclima reached out a hand.

"My intent wasn't to use you… not at the beginning, I just -- what are you doing?!"

As Muzazi watched, eyes wide with horror, Aclima seized hold of one of the Radiants surrounding her. There was no actual physical object to grab onto, nothing to pour Curse Hand into, just pure heat and force. Even so, she was plunging her hand right into the focused flame, even as her face twitched in agony.

"Aclima!" Muzazi called out. "Stop!"

She didn't stop. If anything, she persisted, as if to spite Muzazi's concern. Her infusion was serviceable, but even so…!

"Stop!"

Her hand began to blister.

Radiant Ablaze -- cancel!

Aclima lunged forward the second the barrier dropped, already resuming her attack. As Muzazi weaved around her wild blows, she spat accusations at him. They were sharper than her sword.

"You're so full of shit," she snarled, nostrils flaring. "You killed my father because you wanted his throne. You tried to turn me into your game piece because you wanted my throne! An incompetent Heir you can easily defeat, right? A pig fattened for the slaughter?! That's what you wanted, isn't it, you bastard?!"

It was a strange sensation. As Muzazi dodged and blocked her blows, Radiants flowing like strobe lights, his mind seemed curiously far away. It was like a dream.

No… a nightmare. Aclima's face, twisted in fury, was barely recognisable. Muzazi's gaze softened sadly.

Do you really hate me that much?

"Why did you let my father die?"

If I'd answered that question, back then, would anything have changed? If I'd acknowledged my sins instead of trying to stuff them down, would we still have ended up here? If I'd told you… if I'd told you anything… would you still be swinging your sword like that?

All this from a promise.

It's funny, Marie. I've missed you longer than I knew you. Would you be able to explain to me where everything went wrong?

No. He didn't need that, no matter how much he yearned for it. He knew exactly where everything had gone wrong.

The moment that Atoy Muzazi had betrayed his principles, this path had been set.

Full Throttle -- Overdrive.

Aclima swung her sword once more -- but this time, it passed only through empty air. With his full speed, Muzazi had effortlessly escaped her, crossing the room behind her in the amount of time it took to blink. Snarling in frustration, she whirled around.

The two of them faced off, their stances opposites. Muzazi stood tall and straight, a stoic expression on his face. Aclima, was hunched over, chest heaving, teeth bared like a wild animal. Strategy and reason had fallen away from her mind. She adjusted her footing, preparing to charge again, but before she could…

"You're right," Muzazi said.

Aclima paused, her eyes widening just a tad.

"I murdered your father," Muzazi continued calmly. "My reason doesn't matter. The fact is that I killed him."

His solemn words echoed through the chamber, the blue light washing over his face.

He wasn't finished.

"I did use you," he went on. "And I intended to use you more. It's as you say. Even if I didn't acknowledge it… not even to myself… my intention was to use you as a stepping stone to become Supreme. If you had ended up in that final match instead of me, and you had somehow won… I would have stolen the throne from you. I wanted it that badly."

Aclima let out a shaky breath. Muzazi closed his eyes.

"I betrayed myself," he whispered. "And I betrayed you. How can I make amends?"

Aclima's reply was simple. "Die."

Muzazi's reply was just as simple. "Very well," he said, spreading his arms wide, dispelling his Radiants. "Take your satisfaction."

For a moment, Aclima just stood there, her expression consumed by disbelief. She hesitated, moving her foot back the tiniest bit. It seemed like she might just stay there, like she might just say something else.

But then her mind brushed up against poisonous rage once more -- and she charged.

His eyes closed, his Radiants gone, Muzazi could not have dodged or blocked even if he wanted to. He just stood there and accepted the blow once more -- and this time, the heavy blade bit through the flesh of his shoulder. Muzazi's calm expression twisted in pain.

But this was not a killing blow.

Silver Aether coursed around the wound Aclima had dealt, carved right through Muzazi's right shoulder -- the wound her sword was now trapped in. Muzazi had released his infusion to grant the blade passage, and then reactivated it a moment later -- focused it -- to stop it before it could reach any further. Blood ran down his shirt, painting it a vivid red.

Atoy Muzazi opened his eyes. Aclima looked up at him, her expression uncomprehending.

"I'm sorry," Muzazi said, his voice strained. "This is all I can give you. I have too many obligations to die here."

Aclima's eyes brimmed with tears. "Liar," she whispered.

"Yes."

Aclima wasn't the only one dangerous at close range. Muzazi's left hand lashed out -- and he delivered the swiftest, sharpest chop he could to the back of Aclima's neck. She was unconscious before she even hit the floor.

Muzazi looked down sadly at her for a moment, at the girl he'd sworn to protect… but there was no time. He had to get her somewhere safe, and then he had to get back up there to rejoin the battle. If that monster Forgiveness Irons didn't fall soon, nowhere in the Seat of Man would be safe.

Gritting his teeth and focusing his will, Muzazi pulled Aclima's sword free from his wound and let it drop to the ground. Thrusters within the gash served to cauterize it, but suffice to say carrying someone around with this right arm of his wouldn't be practical right now. He crouched down to apply thrusters to Aclima's unconscious body so he could move her --

i'm dead

-- and stopped.

All the hair on Atoy Muzazi's body had suddenly stood on end. Goosebumps claimed dominion over his skin. His heart felt cold in his chest, even as it beat harder and harder, faster and faster -- a drumbeat, a call to war.

Slowly, he looked up.

Something was coming.

Above him, the lights began to flicker. Below him, the floor began to vibrate. Down the dark corridor leading out of this observation chamber, Muzazi could see dim flashes of purple Aether, growing closer and closer. A single eye, glowing purple, stared at him through the darkness.

This sensation… this creeping eldritch dread… Muzazi knew it.

No.

The growling voice of hell poured forth, glitching like a machine.

"Recover… asset… r-recover… eliminate… o-obstacle…"

A hulking form, clad in dented and damaged and distorted black armour, lurched into the room. It let out a low and long groan, like a stretched-out death rattle, a sound that seemed to creep into Muzazi's bones and scratch against his marrow. Behind it, the scraping of a mountain-heavy sword echoed throughout the halls -- throughout the world, it felt like.

Oh, no.

The flickering of the lights above increased, intensified, accelerated -- and then, as one, every single light shattered. Only the cold glow from below remained… that, and the purple Aether crashing around the creature.

The Abyssal Knight spoke.

"Boy… again, boy? I'm repeating myself… argh… I'll say it a-again. Move."