Aetheral Space-Chapter 462 - 15.16: Family Reunion

"You know," Tybalt del Sed said to Gustavo Mordecai. "That's a pretty good impersonation…"

"Shut up," Gustavo grunted.

"Only… this guy had an accent you're kind of missing?"

Gustavo started to blink, and Annatrice finished it.

Ego Emulation: Cancel.

Before she could even register what had happened, before she could even realize the mask had been ripped from her face, Annatrice was sent flying down the stairs by a vicious boot in her stomach. As she rolled down the steps, Tybalt sighed, lilac Aether dancing around his foot as he returned it to the ground.

"It's kind of a shame, you know?" he said, strolling down the stairs after her. "You're meant to be a net to catch the dead, but at this point you're frayed down to a single string. I mean, that thing about the accent? That was a total lie."

His shadow fell over her form -- curled up in pain -- and he frowned at the sight.

"I don't want to be mean," he continued, scratching his head. "But you're kind of showing off your worthlessness right now."

Ego Emulation: Samael Ambrazo Zakos!

Worthless? Him?! Oh, that was not acceptable. More than that, it was not possible. It bordered the line between an insult and sheer delusion. In any other situation, upon hearing such a thing, the proper response would be pity that one could be so broken that their mind would produce such junk data.

However! Those words were knives at the pride of Samael Ambrazo Zakos, and a stabbing must always be returned in kind!

Golden Aether flaring around his form, Samael twisted his body on the ground like he was breakdancing, his legs lashing out as a hurricane of kicks. The attacker leapt backwards, ascending the stairs, no doubt seeking to put as much distance as he could between himself and his ill fated fate. Samael grinned as he rose to his feet, gesticulating magnificently with a hand.

"Oh my, what a mystery," he jeered up at the coward. "You were so certain of victory a moment ago, were you not, Tybalt? What happened to that? My 'worthlessness' seems to have vanished, replaced with your own. How strange! What a magic trick this must be!"

He flicked his thumb against his nose, and with his free hand he prepared his ability -- his Plunder Hand.

"Well, Tybalt?!" Zakos demanded. "Know that you stand before the judge of your very life. What say you in your defense?!"

The Ego oozed into Tybalt's body, and the Superego backflipped away. Ever so slowly, Tybalt cocked his head.

"I've never met Samael Ambrazo Zakos." He pointed out. "Why would he know my name."

Ego Emulation: Cancel.

Annatrice took a step back -- and Tybalt just calmly began to descend the stairs towards her once again. His face was emotionless, and his eyes were empty. She went to turn, to retreat further --

-- but before she could, the shadow-jester of the Superego grabbed her, holding her arms behind her back and keeping her still.

"Did you think my other two persona would just be spectators while I'm in control." Tybalt said blankly, the shadow-wolf following after him. "That's not the case at all. They're quite capable of acting independently."

Ego Emulation: Pity Sevall!

"You don't have a limp like she did."

Ego Emulation: Terminal Verdict!

"Your voice is far too clear."

Ego Emulation: Qillian Qillioph!

"He wouldn't have even gotten into a situation this bad."

Ego Emulation: Cancel.

Ego Emulation: Cancel.

Ego Emulation: Cancel.

Having easily shattered every mask she tried to put on, Tybalt stared down at Annatrice from the next step up. He lifted a hand and pulled his pistol from its holster.

"You see." He said. "There's so much doubt inside of you now. It's made your ability nearly useless. You started to consider yourself as an individual, as someone separate from your imitations, and this is the result. All you're capable of now are cheap caricatures."

He raised the pistol, pointing it at her head.

"Erica will make far better use of your ability."

Annatrice braced herself…

A finger curled around a trigger…

A gun spat fire…

And…

Perfect Parry!

The bullet shivered in mid-air, caught in the jittering embrace of a forcefield. Tybalt's eyes widened, just fractionally, at the sight -- but before he could do anything to respond, a fist slammed into his face.

As he went flying up the stairs, landing in an undignified heap, the Ego was flung out of his body -- and the Id quickly took its place. By the time he landed, he was already cackling like a hyena, staying on all fours as he looked down at the new arrivals.

"Ha!" the Id barked, hair already falling over his face to conceal everything but his ghastly grin. "Ahaha! Even Defense is showing up?! Ha! It's a real convocation out here, huh, Defense?! Where you'd pop out from?"

Bruno stood protectively in front of Annatrice, his fist coated in blood. She realized with dull shock that, with that single punch, Bruno had surely broken the other man's nose.

"Get away from her," he growled, striding up the stairs.

"Oh?" The Id cocked his head so far it seemed that his neck might snap before he cackled again. "Ha! Ahaha! You sound tough, man, you sound cool! I've got a real penchant for that stuff! Still though… ha… you sure you wanna do this?"

His grin widened.

"Even if you're all hyped up," he breathed, Aether-crackling saliva dripping from his lips. "That doesn't actually make you stronger, you know. I'm pretty sure I could still beat you. It'd be a real ignominious drubbing for you, you know. Not good stuff for the ol' memory banks."

Bruno continued to climb, and Tybalt continued to giggle.

"You sure? You sure, man?! I always thought Attack was supposed to be the reckless one! Ha! Ahaha! You're so dumb! You're so fucking dumb, man, a real ignoramus! Why do you even care?! Just grab an escape pod and get outta here, bozo --"

"Why do I care?" Bruno echoed, voice low. His hair hung over his face, too, but he was doing anything but smiling. "Isn't it obvious?"

He looked up, extending a sword of frozen space.

"I'm the big brother," he declared. "It's my job to look after my younger siblings."

At this point, each of Morgan's footsteps seemed to be accompanied by a swing of his sword. As he charged through the corridors of the Thinker's Comet, he cut down that which tried to stop him.

Soldiers were slain as he ran down hallways.

Executioners met their end as he passed through doorways.

Awakenings were exorcised as he ascended stairways.

And behind him, panting for breath, Sam Set followed.

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It was disheartening just how much their group had shrunk so quickly. To begin with, they'd been seven. Then, five. Now, two. Bruno and Serena had insisted on going after Annatrice immediately, and Alcera had gone after them. That left Morgan and Sam to move to the bridge and secure it.

Did that mean they had faith in him, Morgan wondered, or that they just didn't care if he died?

No, he thought, glancing back at Sam. If Nox thought this was a suicide mission, she wouldn't have let this guy come along.

Morgan flipped over a pair of bulky security automatics as they lunged at him from the shadows, and as he twisted his body in the air --

B! L! M!

-- he kicked a swarm of cube-shaped flames into the machines, filling them with square holes like they'd been blasted by a shotgun.

"How much further?" he demanded of Sam as he landed.

Sam looked down, face pale, inspecting his script. He'd managed to hack into the system and get them a basic map of the place. Morgan had said he'd been surprised it had only taken Sam a few minutes to hack into the AWL's systems. Sam had replied it had actually taken him about six hours, whatever that meant.

"There's a decontamination chamber just through here," Sam said hurriedly. "They're able to lock that down, though, so it's best if you bust through with another Almighty."

"Okay," Morgan nodded. "I've got some more in me."

Sam took a deep breath. "From there… it's the bridge."

"You sound worried," Morgan said, turning towards the door and readying his sword. "Should I be?"

"The directions I'm giving you are based off my simulations," Sam explained. "But those simulations are just based off my predictions -- my Aether running in the background to predict the future based off clues in the present. It's not gonna be 100%. So I don't know what it'll be, exactly, but…"

He gulped.

"...something's waiting for us on the other side of this door. Something bad."

Morgan closed his eyes, acknowledging the prophecy, before swinging his sword at the door.

F! L! E!

His sword, shrouded in Lit Fog, slashed a bright orange gash into the door -- and a second later, the Echo of the attack finished it off, blasting the doorway apart entirely. Without even waiting for the smoke to clear, Morgan dashed forward. There wasn't time to waste.

The decontamination chamber was dark and fairly large, and a drizzle of cold disinfectant brushed against his skin when he moved. That wasn't what grabbed Morgan's attention, though. What did that…

…was the enemy before him.

It was an automatic.

It was cylindrical.

It was glaring at him with a single red eye.

And it had something to say.

"EXTERMINATE! OBLITERATE! ANNIHILATE! DESTROY! KILL! SLAUGHTER! BUTCHER! MUTILATE! DECIMATE! DECAPITATE! DISMEMBER! IMMOLATE! INCINERATE! DETONATE! DIE! DIE! DIIIEEE!"

Morgan had seen this thing before, not so long ago. Hell, most of the galaxy had seen it with him -- during the Dawn Contest, when Dragan Hadrien has clashed against Paradise Charon. This was the Tower. The Arcana Automatic best suited to individual murder. The AWL must have gained custody over it after Hadrien had abandoned it… and now they'd put it on guard duty here. They really were pulling out all the stops, then.

Morgan allowed himself a single breath -- and charged forth into battle.

The staircase had already been reduced to rubble, but the fight was far from finished.

Annatrice looked around wildly as air blasted and lights flashed -- but it was no use. The two combatants were far too fast for her to follow with her eyes alone. They were visible only for the briefest moments, as afterimages, or ribbons of light clashing against each other.

"Ha!" Tybalt giggled, limbs flapping through the air as he was repelled by a forcefield. "Ahaha! You're great, Defense! This is great! You're supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, you know that?!"

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Bruno fired himself out of a plume of debris, using his forcefields as knuckledusters as his fists clashed with Tybalt's.

In a situation like this, Bruno was forcing Tybalt to act carefully, to plan his moves out before he made them -- and that was in turn weakening the Id's strength-enhancement until the fight was basically even. Fist met fist, and punch met punch -- and even smothered as they were, the impacts were enough to send waves of air pressure crashing through the room. Raising an arm to shield her eyes from the debris, Annatrice took a step back…

…and felt a hand land on her shoulder.

She swung her head around, ready to cry out in surprise -- only to shut her mouth as she saw the stern gaze of Alcera Nox looking back at her. The mute girl put a finger to her lips, hushing her, and Annatrice nodded dutifully. Keeping as low as they could, the two began to make their way through the clouds of dust and towards the exit.

Right. Right, this made sense.

Whatever was happening here, they'd come to get Annatrice away from it. While Bruno and Serena distracted Tybalt, Alcera would stealthily extract Annatrice. It was a good plan.

It could have worked too…

…if not for the humanoid shadow striding through the smoke before them.

"It was a good plan. If you weren't just so unlucky, it would have worked."

Erica del Sed's smiling face pierced through the smoke as she calmly walked towards them. In the distance, Bruno moved to try and intercept her -- but a clumsy punch from Tybalt spiked him into the wall. The roles were now reversed in their game of distraction.

Alcera darted protectively in front of Annatrice, knife ready, and the first graduate of the Sed raised a single eyebrow.

"You're very brave. You know, of course, that you can't do anything to block or dodge my attack. You've also seen Skin of God -- and you surely know better than to think that little knife can kill me in one hit. In essence, you might as well not be standing there at all. Are you choosing to die for the principle of the thing, then? That's admirable if so."

"Erica," Annatrice demanded from behind her protector. "What's going on?!"

Erica looked down at her. The smile faded from her face.

"I'd like for you to know it wasn't my intent for this to be so stressful for you. I was supposed to find you sooner, but the Providenza made that difficult. My condolences."

Annatrice's blood turned cold at those words. "Are you going to kill me?" she asked, mouth dry.

"Yes."

"Why?!" she spluttered. Beside her, Alcera tightened her grip on her knife.

Erica slowly closed her eyes, uncaring of the disadvantage it would surely leave her at. Even with the apparent opening, Alcera didn't move. She knew better.

"I already explained to you the purpose of the Sed," Erica said softly. "To create the perfect host for the Prince. Well… I am a near-perfect host for the substitute we've created."

"Substitute…?" Annatrice murmured.

"The Prince-Regent, if you will. A facsimile of the Prince created by us, and provided with a more realistic mission -- the survival of mankind itself. The experiment below has provided us with data to start it off with, but it needs a user to actually do anything.

"I have an ability -- Jaws of God -- that lets me harvest the memories of the deceased. That's how we've acquired that data. My unique psychology also means that I can become whatever the Prince-Regent needs me to be. There won't be problems about my personality not being suitable or anything like that."

"So… why…?"

"It's just not quite there," Erica continued. "I'm a slightly imperfect piece in a perfect machine. If we've gone to such lengths to create the Prince-Regent, we should do the same for its user, don't you think? No matter how she changes, 'Erica' is still 'Erica'. No, the one who can truly become whatever, whoever, is required…"

She opened her eyes.

"...is you, Annatrice."

Despite the danger, despite death tapping its fingers down her spine, Annatrice took a step forward. "But why does that mean you have to kill me?!"

"Jaws of God," Erica said again. "Once I kill you, I will harvest your memories too -- all of them, all your experiences and thoughts. I usually take care to leave a separation between myself and that which I absorb. I won't do so here. You and I will both die, Annatrice… and we'll be reborn as a brand new person. The perfect host at last."

Annatrice blinked. "...you're crazy."

"Yes."

"ERICA!"

Bruno burst out of the smoke, having finally escaped from his fight with Tybalt, an invisible sword raised high. Eyes bulging with fury, he brought the blade down towards Erica's head…

…and, as casually as could be, she reached out and caught it. Pinpoint infusion crackled around her fingers.

"I understand that you were angry, but you shouldn't have shouted like that. Your attack failed to damage me because you threw away the element of surprise. Skin of God has already taken effect. You won't be able to -- oof!"

Serena slammed her elbow into Erica's stomach -- and the woman slid across the floor, gasping in pain.

"You okay?" Serena asked, landing next to Annatrice and Alcera.

"Yeah," Annatrice nodded. "But what's going on?!"

"We're taking this place over," Serena explained, already generating new shield-swords in her hands. "Morgan and Sam are heading to the bridge. You two go join them -- I'll hold them off here."

"You'll do no such thing," Erica said, rising back up, rubbing her stomach. "Tybalt -- deal with the Nox girl and subdue Annatrice."

"Ha! Ahaha! You got it, boss!" the Id dropped down from the ceiling, landing on all fours before the group. He narrowed his eyes in anticipation as he looked at Alcera and Annatrice. His fingers drummed anxiously along the floor -- clearly, he couldn't wait to get started.

Erica stepped past him.

"I'll take care of Attack and Defense."

"My name's not Attack," Serena glared. "And Bruno isn't Defense."

"Sorry. I didn't know that."

Despite her casual words, Erica's eyes had hardened. Clearly, she wasn't used to being caught off guard in combat. She stepped forward, slowly advancing…

Step.

Step.

Step.

Bang.

…until the room erupted into battle once more.