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- Jul 6, 2008
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- 11,370
Battle on the Stage
track: worldenddominator
The moment I drink the concoction, there is no going back. Just the act of retrieving it from my pocket causes my guards to raise their weapons with lethal intent. I hastily gulp it down, though the effects won't be felt until I start using my ability. I hope I haven't made a bad batch; I'm not sure what the effects of that are, but they would likely be comically tragic.
There's no more time to waste. I get started.
The nearest Dunamis guard is on my left, a man pointing his dagger at me. He comes with a thrust at my throat – a quick, efficient movement to end my life. I would need to shift my position by just a bit to avoid it – stabs are fast and less predictable than swings, but once you move out of the line of attack the trajectory is not easily altered. However, this man is probably a specialist. I step forward, into the path of his dagger, at the same time minimizing the profile of my body by turning to face him with my right shoulder. This also acts to move my body out of the way of his attack. As I had expected, the dagger follows in an inhuman manner. Somehow, he flips his weapon mid-attack, changing from an underhand grip to an overhand grip. The man's arm swerves to the right follow my movements – the dagger is now headed for my heart.
In his eagerness to attack, he left himself open – to keep his balance while executing that improbable move his feet carry him right in front of Butterfield. With no warning, an aged, iron-like fist smashes into the man's chin, a fast and brutal punch executed with perfect precision. Blood and spittle fly from his lips, and with my augmented senses I can hear his jawbone fracturing into pieces. I pluck the dagger from the man's hand as he falls, its sharp point dangerously close to my chest. He is not out yet – any normal human would've been knocked unconscious by such a punch – but he has been dizzied enough that he only grasps futilely at me. The other Dunamis man is already swinging his sword at Butterfield's exposed back – I throw the dagger at him. It's a clumsy throw, unlikely to harm him, but his sensitive combat instincts make him stop his attack to deflect the knife. I dash past Butterfield, barrelling into the man and knocking him down. As I roll to my feet, the butler drives his fist into the Dunamis guard's neck while he is still on the floor. There is a nasty crunch as several of the cervical vertebrae in that neck are crushed. Standing up, he looks at me, smoothing his butler suit. I grin and give him a thumbs up, which, surprisingly, he returns – though his face is still as stoic as ever. Then, without another word, he picks up the stunned Kyrie, slinging her over one shoulder, and runs.
Erec is looking over at us, temporarily distracted. I can see the Emperor tense, and he takes his chance. Springing to his feet, he draws his jewel-encrusted longsword. That's the spirit, old man – if you aren't going to go down without a fight, I'm definitely going to try and bail you out. I grab the fallen enemy's sword – another Higashi blade, which seems to be popular amongst their kin. I did spend some time training with Erika and Michael, so I probably won't embarrass myself. I think.
Two Dunamis are down, and ten more are running towards me. I try to calculate the possibility of holding them off and at the same time getting to the Emperor – not good. There's too many. If I evade them to get to the Emperor, they might head directly after Butterfield and Kyrie. Still, I made the choice to try and save her father. Butterfield will just have to handle whatever pursuers he gets.
I sprint forwards, pointing the sword low to the ground. They move well as a group – there are few paths I can take to break past them without getting cut to pieces... not to mention the guns that are already being aimed towards me. For all my powers, I won't be able to dodge the bullets once they are fired... but I might not need to. I send out a mass of tendrils from my wrist. The muzzles flash. As the bullets fly towards my position, each of them is met by a few tendrils that have reached the position I desired moments before the triggers were pulled. The tendrils are unable to hold on for long, crumbling swiftly from the bullets' force, but at the same time I manage to drain energy from each bullet. This alters their trajectory enough that as long as I continue moving they will miss me... unless they throw so much lead that I can't stop it all. A hundred bullets are more than I can track, and their submachine guns are slightly too erratic for me to predict accurately. A few of the bullets whiz through, grazing my arms and body. Light wounds are an acceptable trade-off. I manage to get in close enough to disrupt their formation.
The gun wielders turn around, trying to get a lead on me, but in this position they would hit each other in the crossfire. They realize that almost immediately and leap back, their position in the ranks being replaced instantly by close combat specialists. Damn, who trains these people? I raise my sword to deflect a swing from one of them, the enemy's blade sliding down mine as I push it away. There are only six surrounding me – another four have gone after Butterfield. I try to keep track of all the weapons threatening me. A spear comes at me and I twist out of the way, ducking immediately to avoid the spiked knuckles I had already seen coming at me. A strong, double-handed slash forces me to block and I almost lose my sword in the contest of strength, but I manage to use the force of my enemy's blow to push me away from a well-taken shot, the bullet just barely missing my stomach. Though I can read their movements, they are too fast and strong for me to handle six of them, even for another minute. Whenever I don't move quickly enough, another wound appears on my body. My tendrils are of little use here – they don't move fast enough before they are cut away by the Dunamis... they appear to be experienced at dealing with these.
They probably haven't seen any used like this before, though; I send them down low, snaking along their feet where it is hard for them to reach. Each tendril takes the most convoluted path possible while evading their attention. It distracts them, and some of the more cautious ones retreat a step back. That's all I need. The moment I see the opening, I raise the tendrils all at once, forming a web as I did while fighting my way out of Julius's laboratory. The tendrils are destroyed easily before I can manage to drain their heat, but the distraction is complete – I slip past them and reach the Emperor, who is prone on the ground, his sword broken in two.
Thankfully, he's still alive, though there is a terrible, bloody gash from shoulder to belly. That will definitely be fatal if untreated. Erec stands over him, his sword raised high and ready to deliver the coup de grace. I swing my sword at him with all my might. The silver-haired young man makes only the briefest of movements to block my attack.
His blade locks with mine casually, a contemptuous look on his face.
“I have no idea what you think you are doing, monster, but if you seek death I shall grant it to you.”
I am flung backwards by an invisible force – probably the telekinesis he displayed earlier. Even with heightened senses I can't see it coming. Before I can get up, the edge of his sword is already slicing swiftly towards me. I resist the urge to leap up and instead throw myself back to the ground, allowing the blade to pass above me. I kick out, forcing Erec to take a calm step backward. He takes a cold look at me and gestures at the other Dunamis to step back. He wants to handle me himself.
“I have no interest in playing with a thing like you.” comments Erec coolly. “Your death will however remind people that there are monsters in the guise of humans in this world.”
“That's some rabid monster hate there. By the way, has anyone ever called you by your initials?” Perhaps I can distract him by talking while fighting. I can do both at the same time. Talking is, after all, a free action. Before I finish my sentence, I begin my attack. He sees it coming and parries with ease. The counter-stroke actually catches me off guard, as he reverses his direction fluidly, taking a half step before spinning into a low cut. Even if I can see it coming, I'm not fast enough to completely evade it in time. The tip of his blade skins my knees, drawing blood. I stumble backwards. Erec continues his attack before I can recover, somehow using the momentum of his low cut to slash upwards vertically. Now this move I've seen before – Erika showed it off once, though Erec's execution is undeniably faster. Knowing it is coming, I manage to bring my sword down to parry it in time.
That doesn't help. Erec is strong.
His sword bites into mine – the metal cracks. My arms are forced up, and at the same time a telekinetic blast slams into my chest. I stagger back, my blood pounding in my ears. The next thing he'll do is probably lunge at me, attempting to skewer me through the heart. Sure enough, he tries that. My tendrils swarm forth to attack him, but to no avail. All of them are cut down, crumbling to pieces before they can so much as lay a tender, slimy black appendage on him. Of course, that's not all I have planned. Most of the tendrils are only there to obscure Erec's vision and distract him.
There is blood all over the stage, no thanks to him. There is a particularly thick patch close by that I had kept my eye on for a while, and now that he is in position... I finish freezing it with my tendrils just as he steps onto it. The superhuman Dunamis slips. Gotcha. I dash forwards and slash at him. One chance is all I need...!
He recovers and slashes at me, faster than I can follow. Fuck. The bastard had been holding back. This is beyond my calculations, and I cannot respond in time.
I feel a stinging pain as his sword passes between my ribs, cutting deep into my left lung. Attacking while slipping, his position is too awkward to finish the cut, and Erec settles for drawing his blade out. I take a breath, unaware that I had been holding it. My chest protests excruciatingly at the intake of air. Blood begins to bubble from my nose and throat. I sink to my knees, all the strength in my legs sapped.
“What were you saying about initials?” asks Erec coldly as he presses the tip of his sword against my throat.
“... Ah... E.D.” I croak.
He does not seem amused, but I use the time his question buys me to concentrate the coldness into my eyes. I couldn't use it as long as there was a chance of escape since it burns up my remaining time very swiftly, but in this situation, I would be a fool not to use all I have left.
The faint blue specks appear, dancing before my eyes. The world is still and silent. I see Erec drawing his sword back, preparing to separate my head and body. I focus. The specks gather and resolve into lines, though on Erec they constantly shift and dissolve. The edge of the sword is coming at me, entirely wreathed in blue.
I instinctively move my finger up, drawing it along the edge of his moving blade. Though it should have cut my finger apart, it is the sword that splits and breaks as it meets my flesh. At the same time, I rise, pushing back against a shocked Erec. A short, transient blue seam forms across his chest just as my finger touches it. I trace the seam. He stumbles backwards, not knowing what just happened, that stunned expression still on his face. An instant later, dark red blood gushes from his chest. Yelling in rage, the Dunamis rush to protect their leader and crush me into paste. Pricks. Lose a duel and pile on the winner, eh?
My eyes are burning; I won't be able to hold on to my focus much longer. The constantly shifting lines on all of the living Dunamis are too much for me to follow, but I can do something else. Moving the Emperor might aggravate his wounds, but now I have no choice. Bullets whiz over my head as I prop him up against me. The Dunamis are already closing in. The lines of destruction are clear. With all of my strength, I summon as many tendrils as I can, sending them slicing into the countless lines that zig-zag across the stage. The stage rumbles as the steel, wood and plastics used in its construction break apart. The surprised Dunamis lose their footing as the metal beams supporting the stage's covered awnings crash onto them. I would be safe if I didn't move an inch... well, if I had calculated the cuts correctly, I would be.
The pain in my eyes gets too much to bear. My vision blurs. Even with the elixir, I cannot sustain this state for any reasonable amount of time.
That's it. I can't hold on any longer.
I black out as the stage collapses all around me.
track: worldenddominator
The moment I drink the concoction, there is no going back. Just the act of retrieving it from my pocket causes my guards to raise their weapons with lethal intent. I hastily gulp it down, though the effects won't be felt until I start using my ability. I hope I haven't made a bad batch; I'm not sure what the effects of that are, but they would likely be comically tragic.
There's no more time to waste. I get started.
The nearest Dunamis guard is on my left, a man pointing his dagger at me. He comes with a thrust at my throat – a quick, efficient movement to end my life. I would need to shift my position by just a bit to avoid it – stabs are fast and less predictable than swings, but once you move out of the line of attack the trajectory is not easily altered. However, this man is probably a specialist. I step forward, into the path of his dagger, at the same time minimizing the profile of my body by turning to face him with my right shoulder. This also acts to move my body out of the way of his attack. As I had expected, the dagger follows in an inhuman manner. Somehow, he flips his weapon mid-attack, changing from an underhand grip to an overhand grip. The man's arm swerves to the right follow my movements – the dagger is now headed for my heart.
In his eagerness to attack, he left himself open – to keep his balance while executing that improbable move his feet carry him right in front of Butterfield. With no warning, an aged, iron-like fist smashes into the man's chin, a fast and brutal punch executed with perfect precision. Blood and spittle fly from his lips, and with my augmented senses I can hear his jawbone fracturing into pieces. I pluck the dagger from the man's hand as he falls, its sharp point dangerously close to my chest. He is not out yet – any normal human would've been knocked unconscious by such a punch – but he has been dizzied enough that he only grasps futilely at me. The other Dunamis man is already swinging his sword at Butterfield's exposed back – I throw the dagger at him. It's a clumsy throw, unlikely to harm him, but his sensitive combat instincts make him stop his attack to deflect the knife. I dash past Butterfield, barrelling into the man and knocking him down. As I roll to my feet, the butler drives his fist into the Dunamis guard's neck while he is still on the floor. There is a nasty crunch as several of the cervical vertebrae in that neck are crushed. Standing up, he looks at me, smoothing his butler suit. I grin and give him a thumbs up, which, surprisingly, he returns – though his face is still as stoic as ever. Then, without another word, he picks up the stunned Kyrie, slinging her over one shoulder, and runs.
Erec is looking over at us, temporarily distracted. I can see the Emperor tense, and he takes his chance. Springing to his feet, he draws his jewel-encrusted longsword. That's the spirit, old man – if you aren't going to go down without a fight, I'm definitely going to try and bail you out. I grab the fallen enemy's sword – another Higashi blade, which seems to be popular amongst their kin. I did spend some time training with Erika and Michael, so I probably won't embarrass myself. I think.
Two Dunamis are down, and ten more are running towards me. I try to calculate the possibility of holding them off and at the same time getting to the Emperor – not good. There's too many. If I evade them to get to the Emperor, they might head directly after Butterfield and Kyrie. Still, I made the choice to try and save her father. Butterfield will just have to handle whatever pursuers he gets.
I sprint forwards, pointing the sword low to the ground. They move well as a group – there are few paths I can take to break past them without getting cut to pieces... not to mention the guns that are already being aimed towards me. For all my powers, I won't be able to dodge the bullets once they are fired... but I might not need to. I send out a mass of tendrils from my wrist. The muzzles flash. As the bullets fly towards my position, each of them is met by a few tendrils that have reached the position I desired moments before the triggers were pulled. The tendrils are unable to hold on for long, crumbling swiftly from the bullets' force, but at the same time I manage to drain energy from each bullet. This alters their trajectory enough that as long as I continue moving they will miss me... unless they throw so much lead that I can't stop it all. A hundred bullets are more than I can track, and their submachine guns are slightly too erratic for me to predict accurately. A few of the bullets whiz through, grazing my arms and body. Light wounds are an acceptable trade-off. I manage to get in close enough to disrupt their formation.
The gun wielders turn around, trying to get a lead on me, but in this position they would hit each other in the crossfire. They realize that almost immediately and leap back, their position in the ranks being replaced instantly by close combat specialists. Damn, who trains these people? I raise my sword to deflect a swing from one of them, the enemy's blade sliding down mine as I push it away. There are only six surrounding me – another four have gone after Butterfield. I try to keep track of all the weapons threatening me. A spear comes at me and I twist out of the way, ducking immediately to avoid the spiked knuckles I had already seen coming at me. A strong, double-handed slash forces me to block and I almost lose my sword in the contest of strength, but I manage to use the force of my enemy's blow to push me away from a well-taken shot, the bullet just barely missing my stomach. Though I can read their movements, they are too fast and strong for me to handle six of them, even for another minute. Whenever I don't move quickly enough, another wound appears on my body. My tendrils are of little use here – they don't move fast enough before they are cut away by the Dunamis... they appear to be experienced at dealing with these.
They probably haven't seen any used like this before, though; I send them down low, snaking along their feet where it is hard for them to reach. Each tendril takes the most convoluted path possible while evading their attention. It distracts them, and some of the more cautious ones retreat a step back. That's all I need. The moment I see the opening, I raise the tendrils all at once, forming a web as I did while fighting my way out of Julius's laboratory. The tendrils are destroyed easily before I can manage to drain their heat, but the distraction is complete – I slip past them and reach the Emperor, who is prone on the ground, his sword broken in two.
Thankfully, he's still alive, though there is a terrible, bloody gash from shoulder to belly. That will definitely be fatal if untreated. Erec stands over him, his sword raised high and ready to deliver the coup de grace. I swing my sword at him with all my might. The silver-haired young man makes only the briefest of movements to block my attack.
His blade locks with mine casually, a contemptuous look on his face.
“I have no idea what you think you are doing, monster, but if you seek death I shall grant it to you.”
I am flung backwards by an invisible force – probably the telekinesis he displayed earlier. Even with heightened senses I can't see it coming. Before I can get up, the edge of his sword is already slicing swiftly towards me. I resist the urge to leap up and instead throw myself back to the ground, allowing the blade to pass above me. I kick out, forcing Erec to take a calm step backward. He takes a cold look at me and gestures at the other Dunamis to step back. He wants to handle me himself.
“I have no interest in playing with a thing like you.” comments Erec coolly. “Your death will however remind people that there are monsters in the guise of humans in this world.”
“That's some rabid monster hate there. By the way, has anyone ever called you by your initials?” Perhaps I can distract him by talking while fighting. I can do both at the same time. Talking is, after all, a free action. Before I finish my sentence, I begin my attack. He sees it coming and parries with ease. The counter-stroke actually catches me off guard, as he reverses his direction fluidly, taking a half step before spinning into a low cut. Even if I can see it coming, I'm not fast enough to completely evade it in time. The tip of his blade skins my knees, drawing blood. I stumble backwards. Erec continues his attack before I can recover, somehow using the momentum of his low cut to slash upwards vertically. Now this move I've seen before – Erika showed it off once, though Erec's execution is undeniably faster. Knowing it is coming, I manage to bring my sword down to parry it in time.
That doesn't help. Erec is strong.
His sword bites into mine – the metal cracks. My arms are forced up, and at the same time a telekinetic blast slams into my chest. I stagger back, my blood pounding in my ears. The next thing he'll do is probably lunge at me, attempting to skewer me through the heart. Sure enough, he tries that. My tendrils swarm forth to attack him, but to no avail. All of them are cut down, crumbling to pieces before they can so much as lay a tender, slimy black appendage on him. Of course, that's not all I have planned. Most of the tendrils are only there to obscure Erec's vision and distract him.
There is blood all over the stage, no thanks to him. There is a particularly thick patch close by that I had kept my eye on for a while, and now that he is in position... I finish freezing it with my tendrils just as he steps onto it. The superhuman Dunamis slips. Gotcha. I dash forwards and slash at him. One chance is all I need...!
He recovers and slashes at me, faster than I can follow. Fuck. The bastard had been holding back. This is beyond my calculations, and I cannot respond in time.
I feel a stinging pain as his sword passes between my ribs, cutting deep into my left lung. Attacking while slipping, his position is too awkward to finish the cut, and Erec settles for drawing his blade out. I take a breath, unaware that I had been holding it. My chest protests excruciatingly at the intake of air. Blood begins to bubble from my nose and throat. I sink to my knees, all the strength in my legs sapped.
“What were you saying about initials?” asks Erec coldly as he presses the tip of his sword against my throat.
“... Ah... E.D.” I croak.
He does not seem amused, but I use the time his question buys me to concentrate the coldness into my eyes. I couldn't use it as long as there was a chance of escape since it burns up my remaining time very swiftly, but in this situation, I would be a fool not to use all I have left.
The faint blue specks appear, dancing before my eyes. The world is still and silent. I see Erec drawing his sword back, preparing to separate my head and body. I focus. The specks gather and resolve into lines, though on Erec they constantly shift and dissolve. The edge of the sword is coming at me, entirely wreathed in blue.
I instinctively move my finger up, drawing it along the edge of his moving blade. Though it should have cut my finger apart, it is the sword that splits and breaks as it meets my flesh. At the same time, I rise, pushing back against a shocked Erec. A short, transient blue seam forms across his chest just as my finger touches it. I trace the seam. He stumbles backwards, not knowing what just happened, that stunned expression still on his face. An instant later, dark red blood gushes from his chest. Yelling in rage, the Dunamis rush to protect their leader and crush me into paste. Pricks. Lose a duel and pile on the winner, eh?
My eyes are burning; I won't be able to hold on to my focus much longer. The constantly shifting lines on all of the living Dunamis are too much for me to follow, but I can do something else. Moving the Emperor might aggravate his wounds, but now I have no choice. Bullets whiz over my head as I prop him up against me. The Dunamis are already closing in. The lines of destruction are clear. With all of my strength, I summon as many tendrils as I can, sending them slicing into the countless lines that zig-zag across the stage. The stage rumbles as the steel, wood and plastics used in its construction break apart. The surprised Dunamis lose their footing as the metal beams supporting the stage's covered awnings crash onto them. I would be safe if I didn't move an inch... well, if I had calculated the cuts correctly, I would be.
The pain in my eyes gets too much to bear. My vision blurs. Even with the elixir, I cannot sustain this state for any reasonable amount of time.
That's it. I can't hold on any longer.
I black out as the stage collapses all around me.
That doesn't mean she won't be all gooshy about him though. Anime girls are weird that way.
