Aetheral Space

"Well," said Amantha Noon, peering down the scope of Demon Core. "That just happened."

The battle between Ruth Blaine and the Weapon had been a heck of a thing. Not much remained intact of the city -- just a crater lined by wrecked buildings. Not a single pane of glass had escaped unshattered, either. It really was something to see.

And there, in the middle of it all, was Ruth Blaine. The woman was kneeling right at the center of the crater, the body of the Weapon lying a short distance away from her. The Pugnant hadn't moved in a while, but Amantha wasn't too surprised about that. It really had been a heck of a fight, after all.

Well… Amantha lifted her rifle up over her shoulder. I guess there's nothing keeping me out here anymore.

The threat of the Weapon had been enough to keep Amantha stuck outside of the experiment grounds until now. As a sniper, that wasn't too bad, but it also meant she couldn't accompany her team on their raid of the Thinker's Comet. Sitting and waiting was all well and good when it was for a purpose -- a shot -- but not when you were basically benching yourself.

Right now, her best move was to rendezvous with Blaine and see if they could dig LYCHGATE out of the rubble.

no

Then again, finding LYCHGATE was pretty unrealistic, all things considered. The tunnels had collapsed entirely from the destruction the battle had wrought. An Aether Awakening like LYCHGATE -- not even specialized for combat -- wouldn't have been able to survive that kind of force.

They needed to find an alternative means of transportation…

no

…is what she'd like to say, but that wasn't too realistic either. The AWL had set this whole place up -- they wouldn't have left a means of escape just sitting around for the rats trapped in their maze. The best course of action would be to secure this location -- make sure no traps were still sitting around once their comrades returned.

no

no

no

Wait… something felt weird. There was a sensation -- not a headache, but something like static flowing through her skull, she didn't feel too good, she didn't feel too good, she didn't --

no

-- she didn't --

no

-- she didn't --

no

-- she didn't need this mask anymore.

Ego Generation: Cancel.

Penelope del Sed blinked.

What a shitshow. Things really hadn't gone how they'd expected at all, had they? By this point in the experiment, Penelope had expected to already be cleaning up the corpses of the Vantablack 'comrades' she'd lured in. Instead, they were launching an attack on the Comet, and they'd somehow managed to take out AUBRISHER?

"This is what fuckin' happens when I'm not around," she muttered, leaning back in to look through the scope of her sniper rifle.

Penelope del Sed's ability, Ego Generation, allowed her to generate and inhabit a fictional persona -- accessing a great number of skills that the real her didn't possess. Even though she'd now cast 'Amantha Noon' aside, the muscle memory of her sniping prowess would still linger for a short time. She'd make use of that.

She narrowed her Cogitant-blue eyes.

Ruth Blaine, huh? Penelope had observed her from beneath the waking dream of Amantha Noon, but the level of strength she'd demonstrated here really was extraordinary. If this bitch managed to get aboard the Thinker's Comet, Penelope had no doubt she'd be able to wreak havoc on Erica's plan.

Well, Penelope supposed, that was why she was here.

Bang.

She pulled the trigger -- and the distant dot that was Ruth Blaine moved at the same time. How impressive. Had she somehow managed to sense the shot right after it had been launched, or was it some residual awareness from all the Aether she'd been throwing around?

Either way, Penelope didn't really give a shit.

She didn't manage to fully dodge it, anyway. The Neverwire shell of Demon Core scraped through Blaine's prosthetic leg, severing the metal limb and sending it flying off as Blaine landed face-first in the mud. Penelope suppressed a smirk at the comical sight, bringing her communicator to her lips.

"Oh, jeez louise," she mocked across the Comms channel. "Are you okay there, Ruth? You really took a tumble, huh?"

Blaine's reply came back quickly. Even without the gunshot, she'd already been exhausted by the battle. Her voice was strained.

"What the hell… are you doing…?!"

Penelope reached for a cigarette, then scowled as she remembered the milquetoast Noon hadn't smoked.

"You can stay fuckin' put there," she said calmly, keeping the rifle trained on the distant Blaine. "I'm willing to bet the AWL will be wanting a replacement for their human weapon. Who better than the asshole who killed the last one?"

"You're with them…?"

"Penelope del Sed," she introduced herself. "My ability seals away my Aether and creates a new identity for me to hide in. That's what 'Amantha Noon' was. My job's to step in if things get dicey with the experiment. So, here I am… stepping the fuck in."

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Given what she'd observed of Ruth Blaine so far, Penelope had expected some dismay from that. Maybe even a breakdown -- oh no, I've been betrayed -- that sort of thing. But… that was exactly why the words that came back over the communicator sent a chill down Penelope's spine.

"You're done."

Ruth Blaine's voice wasn't just calm. It was emotionless. Penelope narrowed her eyes against the scope.

This wasn't the sort of person who could be broken anymore.

"You can say that, bitch," Penelope scoffed with more confidence than she felt. "But you're missing a leg, and there's a city between us. Play fuckin' nice or you're getting one right between the --"

Too late.

Penelope del Sed had been blessed with Aether and surprise and weaponry. By all rights, she should have won this encounter. By all rights, this shouldn't have even been something she could 'lose' in the first place.

But she had squandered her biggest blessing of all.

She had squandered all those seconds God had given her to pull the trigger.

A flash of red lit up the night.

A flash of white scattered the smoke.

Ego Emulation: Nigen Rush!

For the briefest of moments, Annatrice felt the will of a master drive her body -- and she unleashed a kick that could have cut steel in half.

If only she'd judged her distance correctly. If only she'd been fighting a lesser opponent. If only she'd been holding a sword. If only, if only, if only.

Tybalt darted back, the air pressure of the kick shredding his shirt, his briefly-visible eyes widened in mortal terror. Immediately, instinctively, he lashed out -- swiping his hand through the air and creating a gust of wind that nearly sent Annatrice flying.

Ego Emulation: Mariner Two!

Mariner Two would not be so easily deterred, controlling the water inside her own body and pushing herself against the ground. This was not a good impersonation at all. The ocean-blue Aether around her flickered in and out of clarity, but it did not vanish. So long as Tybalt couldn't talk, couldn't poke holes, the mask would hold.

Besides, the part of him that was good at talking was getting the shit beat out of it on the other side of the room.

Ego Emulation: Anne of Green-Graves!

A headstone made of emerald manifested in Anne's hands, and she smashed it over the hateful boy's head!

Ego Emulation: Alec Alexander!

Grunting with the fury that spouted from his nose, Alec tapped into his speed and zipped right behind Tybalt del Sed.

Ego Emulation: Sara Louche!

She brought her fist up in a haze of fire…

Ego Emulation: Nigen Rush!

…and he brought that fist back down in a flash of --

"Fuck off!" Tybalt screamed, smashing the attack away with a swing of his arm.

Ego Emulation: Cancel…

"Are you stupid?!" Tybalt screamed, advancing as Annatrice backed up, her broken arm swinging. "Do you really think Nigen Rush is that slow?! You're so stupid! You're so nothing! Are you kidding me?! It's a bad joke!"

Annatrice fell to the ground, screaming as she landed on her broken arm.

"Huh?!" Tybalt lunged in, kicking her in the arm and prompting another scream. "If I were Nigen Rush, I'd be offended!"

Ego Emulation: Nigen Rush.

Ego Emulation: Cancel.

Tybalt raised an eyebrow. "Ha," he said humourlessly. "Ahaha. Now this is just funereal. I can see what you're trying to do, you know. It's no use. That guy's done."

"Shut up," Annatrice winced, dragging herself back.

Ego Emulation: Nigen Rush.

Ego Emulation: Cancel.

"You're sounding a little more confident," Tybalt sneered. "But that flickering Aether's telling the real story, huh? You're hanging on by a thread. Well, ha, ahaha, maybe not even that. Maybe you're already falling, huh?"

Annatrice dragged herself further back, digging her fingers into the broken floor -- and leaving a trail of blood smeared across it as she went. Tybalt whistled as he stepped around the trail.

"Did I do that?" he asked, cocking his head. "Or maybe you just went and pushed yourself too hard. Either way, it's a real vicissitude for you, huh?"

Ego Emulation: Nigen Rush.

Ego Emulation: Cancel.

"Stop it!"

Tybalt roared in fury as he slammed another kick into her, sending her flying back into the pile of emerald shards Anne had left behind. Annatrice gasped in pain as she felt the emeralds bite into her back -- no doubt she'd be smearing an even more crimson trail the next time she moved.

Or maybe she wouldn't be moving again at all. She gripped tight hold of one of the emerald shards, painting it with the blood of her cut palm.

Tybalt's eyes were widened into murder as he looked down at her, hands bared into claws at his sides.

"These people are legends," he hissed. "You're basically desecrating their graves… you know that? That's damn inexpiable."

He tightened his fist and raised it. The face of the Id had fallen slack, becoming an emotionless mask of serene fury. In those wide eyes, Annatrice could see nothing but her own reflection.

"Of course… Erica doesn't need you intact," he growled. "So I'll do as much justice as I can."

He swung his fist --

Ego Emulation: Nigen Rush.

Ego Emulation: Cancel.

-- and Annatrice moved.

It was two slashes with the emerald shard she'd grabbed, so fast that it carved lines of green light into the air itself. More than that, though, it stopped Tybalt right in his tracks. His fist froze in the air. His face froze in an instant of pain.

"Ha…" he wheezed. "...ahaha…"

…and then his chest exploded into blood.

Annatrice slowly rose to her feet as Tybalt collapsed to the ground. She too was covered in her own blood, her clothes stained with vicious red, her face pale and coated in sweat as she clutched her side. A shaky smile spread across her lips.

It was just as Tybalt had said. She wasn't Nigen Rush… but that didn't mean she couldn't learn from him. With each activation of her ability, she had felt his impulses settle into her body. With each activation of her ability, she had felt his shadow linger in her bones.

And in the moment of crisis, she'd been able to cling on to that lingering muscle memory.

Annatrice del Sed let out a shuddering breath…

…one that belonged to her alone.