Souls.
What a silly concept, someone thought. As a creature who had shed any attachment to human concepts, they believed that the idea of a soul was foolish and not worth their time.
Usurping.
For such a beast, this word was a mantra they lived by, it was the very idea that drove them insane, yet so wonderfully full at the same time.
Memories.
The only thing this creature possessed was what humans craved. Their entire life was fueled by memories of others, of the full life of others, the words and names and voices that rang through their heads at every waking moment. The fear that perhaps, someday, those memories too shall fade.
Deceit.
To fool the ones around you, to fool yourself and lie to yourself in every looking-glass. For this beast, that was a power greater than any. A power that was to be used, and used, and used. Used until nothing remained of the truth but the lie. Albeit, it was a pretty little lie, with a tinge that spoke 'yes, everything is ok, you can keep going and going and going and going and going, don't even think of stopping'.
Malice.
That which was born from memories and pain. A corrosive word that seemed so funny at first, but then became the monster underneath the bed. The shadows behind your back that whisper a million lies and a thousand insults at once. Malice and revenge and hatred, the driving forces of the beast. But perhaps the true beast was simply what lurked beneath the malice. A terrible, yawning, vile, and awful truth that the creature never dared face, yet at times was brought to the forefront of their mind. And they hid it well, hid it away behind walls and locks and keys that no one would ever unlock.
...
"Where... the hell...??" A moderately pitched, coughing voice emerged from the ground, as if a hideous seed in a fruit. "Ah... what's... wrong with my hands?! My body! What happened?" The girl's voice cracked, as that dark-black body of hers entered her sight, she held four hands... none that looked human, just all black. A creature without a soul, she thought to herself.
"The afterlife...? Ah... a nightmare? Then the fight... Was not real, no... That can't be..." Falling into a delirious state, her head rolled back.
Something, something, something, what was she missing? 'Ah! Yes, there, that's right. What she was missing was-'
The Ardour. It was no longer inside of her. "Wha- How did I...? Am I really dead...?" The question echoed, over and over since the space was empty and dark, she only saw a tree. And it was a tree that had agonized faces, but they had no voices, they only begged for salvation silently as a hideous congruence of wood and flesh.
Was it real? Or was it an illusion, a trick of the mind? A terrible dream?
A different voice spoke, perhaps from the tree, perhaps from the air, "Ah... another one already? What a pity... Ah, I was planning to have more fun with this... You know, I haven't had much company recently."
The tree... no, 'Zabulus' spoke as he came into her shaky sight. "Y-you... what have you done, where am I?!" She wanted to lunge at him and try killing him again, but something told her everything was wrong as it was.
"Calm down, calm down. We've all gone through this confusion before—We think that we killed him, we feel good and try to go and have some rest but by some god given miracle he's there in front of us in this place." The man in front of her explained, "I'll grow tired of this explanation eventually, but... you're dead, okay? And I'm not Zabulus, I was just... Forced to look like him! We all were! This is an endless afterlife, and no one gets to leave. Hopefully I didn't tire you out too much before we could settle our differences, that'd be just perfect if we could, eh?"
She couldn't believe him, no matter how much he explained himself, there had to be a way out, he had to be lying. Zabulus was dead, she saw him die!
"...And we're basically just inside his soul, told ya, the guy just never dies! Oh, right. By the way, my name is Vetro. What's yours? Ah! Ah! Don't say it, let me guess. You're that Onofre chick, ain'tcha? No need to answer that! I see what he sees, and I was there too in the battle!"
The man was now floating in the air as his hands began to fold and bend and change shapes like wet paper, but his words stayed true. "Let's have a show-and-tell then! Tell me all about how he got you, maybe I'll learn something useful from that!"
"I'm... no, no! That can't be true. I will kill him! I swear on Babel's bones, I will... He took... from everything, do you think he's just... Allowed to even breathe the same air as us?" Her anger grew and grew as she planted her hands in the ground and knelt forward, her face contorting with rage, "How can I kill him?! There must be a way! Tell me, now!"
"Well, he doesn't breathe the same air as us, really. We breathe him, you know? This whole place is his body! His soul! But to kill him, well... You just can't, his soul just has defensive countermeasures everywhere that prevent that kind of stuff! Though I'm surprised that you were able to come to terms with that this quickly. Last lady who came around here... Let me tell you, she was not as good-mannered and was having a breaaakdown! Aaaaaaahaha! She's a bit stuck on the face thing, can't really come to terms with the fact that she looks like me... For some reason, she really hates me! It's a little depressing." Vetro spoke with a fluctuating tone and did several gestures to exaggerate his speech, his hands were like branches that could shoot bones out of them, and his fingers wiggled and changed into countless roots as he did some sort of a magic trick.
A terrible, heart-wrenching feeling filled Onofre as she recalled.
A terrible, heart-wrenching realization.
It hit her numb skull now, he was nigh impossible to defeat. It wasn't a fight she could win, no, she had simply met a being above her. A being that outclassed her in every way. And there was likely nobody else that could be better than him if this was what he was; a true immortal, that wouldn't die, and could not be stopped.
She 'retched', but nothing came out of her, she was devoid of anything but his body. It disgusted her to think about it.
Vetro smirked as if he was amused by her reaction.
'Someone who so vehemently wants to kill him can't comprehend a world where he lives forever. How fascinating, eh?' The words rang through his headspace as he levitated down towards her.
Vetro tried his best to be comforting, as he understood how she felt; as he felt a similar way initially. He still hasn't, and will never forgive Zabulus for killing his daughter, but he learned to come around and accept it as if it was an unquestionable law of the world.
"Here, why don't you give me a hand?" He tried to lift a part of her arm off the ground, "You don't want to just mope around forever, well, you won't be allowed to. Everyone comes up with different ways to entertain themselves in here, and you can use those weird, oddball hands you got to your advantage. Come."
His voice was unusually soothing, his presence was odd. There was something...odd about it. It was not an aura of goodness or righteousness. It was like a dissonance in the air, and something was definitely off.
Vetro stood in front of a large, beautiful mirror that showed everything around him, it appeared out of nowhere.
"So, we just touch this thing and we go to the main-space, that's where everyone is. Unless you want to stay there and be part of that congested mind. You know, they have some weird games in there!" Vetro pressed a finger on the glass and it cracked under pressure, showing a hidden world.
It was a vast, eternal field, the sky above seemed as bright greenish greyish purple, as if some colorblind kid drew with paint-drip paint. The ground was soft and uneven, but walking was effortless, the grass was taller than any regular grass should be and the trees were taller than any natural tree should be and looked almost translucent and thin like paper.
Onofre didn't give any word as he passed through the crack in the mirror and entered this new world. He looked behind and waved at her with a smile, as if saying 'Come on, try it yourself!'
But Onofre rested on the ground, giving up on any ideas or thoughts, her eyes cold and lifeless, had there been any eyes to speak of. She knew that any effort, any attempt to go against him was futile. And if she was to live within him forever? Unbearable. But what choice did she have?
Vetro stepped outside of the mirror to look at her. He walked towards her and reminded her, "Well, if you want to stay back here, you'll just be a bigger part of him all the same. That tree you see?" He pointed towards the Congested Mind, the faces moaning in pain and trying to break out of their root prison, "They're part of his subconscious, and they're the ones who become literal parts of him. Do you want that?"
"But..." Her mouth refused to let out a sound for a moment, "What will I...Do there, in the other...Place?" She fell into a depression, the place had little light, and it was hard to move with her blackened body and four black arms. "I..." Her voice began to shake, "I don't want to do anything. Just let me..." She was unsure as to whether or not she was ready to give in, she had always fought valiantly in the way she saw herself. Her philosophy was always to think, 'Fear is the mind-killer. Doubt is the little death that brings a bigger one. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me, and when it has gone, only I will remain.' But in the end, she began to see herself as 'all-talk, no-action.'
That scared her more than anything.
"...Then be bored, forever torturing yourself in this wallowing place. You know, sometimes I hear his voice in my head, he speaks to me, and I speak to him. We talk and sometimes reminisce about all sorts of things, even if they're not our memories. I can see them too. So, I extend my hand one last time to you, my friend, because no man, and no woman, should die like this. A rotting corpse, or a... Whatever you are now. It's a pitiful fate. You know, and I see potential in you, the others might like you too! Like... that Reiah girl, she seems to know you, don't know how, though she was reacting pretty intensely to your fight. You fought well, and I can tell that you probably had a hard-fought life before ending up here. So, what do you say? Want to have some company while you mope and stare out at nothingness?" His speech was oddly calming and pleasant, with his unusual mannerisms and ever-changing body.
It made the situation seem lighter. But... despite being lighter, it ended up being so heavy. Onofre could not bear it.
'NO! NO! NOOO!' She thought. She didn't want to listen to anything else, "Just leave me alone!" She screamed out, but her voice could barely make a sound. Vetro smiled in a mocking manner, knowing she couldn't fight back anymore.
'Well, I tried. Maybe another day, if you survive the Mind.' Thinking some more words to himself, he left the place and the mirror disappeared.
Onofre was all alone, crying to herself on the ground as she could barely feel herself, no energy, no will to even exist, and no Ardour to give her strength.
She tried to give up.
Her will was gone.
Her life was gone.
Her future was gone.
The voices in her mind echoed endlessly as she finally succumbed to his darkness.
His face was still smiling in the back of her mind.
It would haunt her to no end, she knew.
Her face contorted in an ugly, twisted mess, she wanted him to feel pain, she wanted to give him pain. But was aware of the futility of it.
Vengeance had its grip on her, and the harder she struggled, the tighter the claws clutched.
There was no way out of this, there wasn't.
If she could, she would just commit the ultimate act of mercy, but not even death was a way out.
'Am I just a toy to him? Just... to be taken and broken, then thrown aside? Years of abuse and torment, and then this is my reward?' Onofre had a rush of thoughts. 'Babel... I prayed, and I prayed to you. My vengeance never brought me salvation, not even death did...' The tears poured, but there were none, only her dark skin glistened with a wet shine.
There were no eyes to cry with. She would be damned in this cruel world, where the world would never treat her as she was.
To him, she would be forever damned.
This was not a joke. This was not an illusion. This was reality.
And there was no escape from it.
...
"...?" Hazy vision, confused mumbling words came from the mouth. It took a second... two seconds... three seconds for the person to realize where it was and who it was. As if waking up from a terrible nightmare, or realizing that a long-held grudge had been for naught, they woke up and stood to their feet, confused, frightened, and overwhelmed with emotion.
Wild emotion that felt impossible to contain.
'I'm out...' was all they could utter. Their legs shook, their mind was hazy, but a smile formed across their lips. A warm, comfortable smile. 'Out, finally.'
There was no way of describing what they were thinking, and it wouldn't matter. All that mattered was that they were free.
Standing in the rubble of debris, dirt, books and scrolls, all was silent. All that remained was the aftermath of the battle. And a 'pain' in the left 'eye' that he covered with one of his hands.
The victory was complete, but no sense of triumph could be felt.
"Friend, huh?" He looked down at his own battered corpse, a broken horn, torn skin, and a stomach wound that dripped with blood.
He wanted to forget about his own weakness, to ignore the thought, but it just came to him:
'I don't deserve a single damn bit of kindness.' He spat the blood from his mouth in anger, the body he inhabited still not having healed fully from the fight. Hell, even the torn leg came back.
Zabulus tried to focus on something else, but the memory lingered. 'But... That was such an amazing fight... Onofre, you were amazingly skilled... Strong... and fast. If I didn't have this special soul of mine, who knows how it would have ended otherwise.'
'Hey Hey hey! Don't go wallowin' the way she did, aye!' Another girls voice was heard from... Inside his head? 'Remember, we got lots o' fun things ta do, yah?' It sounded... Happy? Bright? Caring, even.
"Who's there?! Show yourself!" Zabulus turned around in all directions, looking for the speaker, but he was alone in the dust and rubble.
'Calm down boy, we got a lot ta talk 'bout and get ya acquainted!' The voice sounded so strange, as if it were layered with more than one, maybe hundreds, of tones and words. It seemed to echo from the past, and the future, all at the same time.
"You... Are you Onofre's friend? Are you a soul?" He was unsure of who was speaking, so he calmed himself down a bit.
'Don't be silly! I might be a soul trapped somewhere... But befriend that little whiny bitch? Ahahahaha!' The laughter was strangely dissonant and shrill, 'Ain't funny, eh?'
"Then who are you?" Zabulus was extremely confused and worried at the same time, "Why are you talking to me?"
'Ahh, so many questions, such an inquisitive little boy! You're gonna make us late, we got lots to explore and see out there!'
There was something in the corner of his 'vision' moving.
A rock, it was shaking. Shaking frieeenndddddly as it continued to grow more shaky.
Its shadow looked like an oddly misshapen snake as its shape distorted like jelly.
'Heyheyheyhey, remember when she hugged you? Yeah, that pisssssed me offfff! Did you see how awkward she was!? I mean, she was practically forcing herself upon you, right?'
The rock continued to grow in shape. Its edges sharpened and its big form turning more into a stick, the texture changed to a blackish metal.
"How do you know that? Wait... Are you there, in that thing?!"
'Hahahaha! Good one, good one. You're funny, I like you. Oh, by the way, my name is Tartaros! You probably wouldn't know me, but I'm like, a pretty powerful weapon, yeah!'
"What do you want?" He repeated the question.
'Let's chat more! Let's explore this city and kill some baddies! After all, you and me, we're going to be like, super close and stuff! Hahahaha, aren't I cool?! Let me show you my true form!'
The now stick-metal grew two zigzags in the shape of an M at each opposite end, resembling a double-scythe.
"Onofre's weapon? You can speak, just like Phantos?" Zabulus was now cautious. He remembered her skill, but if this scythe was the same as Phantos... Then why did Onofre never use its ability?
'A-a-ah! Don't lump me in with that son of a bitch Onofre! I know what you're thinkin', aight? And no way I'm lettin' myself be used by that loser again. Plus, I'm bound to you either way! Well... not really, ya know? I can always decide 'nough is enough. You seem alright so far, though!' The now floating double scythe started going towards Zabulus, 'Hey! Pick me up, I wanna see how you look like!'
Before he could react, the scythe fell to the ground, as if waiting to be used.
"And you're going to be a good partner for me? Really? Didn't seem like you were being loyal at all back there." He picked up the weapon, but he could feel something strange, a kind of pressure on his whole arm.
'Yeah, yeah, whatever. Can you handle it or can you not, bud? And- Oh, hey! You're an azkite! And look at that, a damn good-looking azkite at that! Didn't know this shitty place I was brought to had someone like you!' Her girly voice was somehow still loud and powerful as he felt it through his body. 'You need a name. Come, come! What should your name be?'
"Uh, a name? I already have one, It's... Zabulus. But... Why would you want to give yourself to me? I'm a nobody." He explained awkwardly, feeling some sort of dissonant joy emanate from the weapon.
'What a boring, mundane name, aye! How about... Gah! I'll let you choose your own name, whatever! So, I'm currently bound to you as a kindling weapon, just like that personality-less Book that you use! We're made from the same thing, so I know pleeentyy about that good-for-nothing Phantos you got!'
'Sir, may I inquire the nature of this manner-less spirit that speaks to you in such a disgusting manner and refuses to conform to social niceties and etiquette?' The voice of Phantos echoed through his head, sounding disgusted with the weapon.
'Phaaaahahahaha! See? It talks like a damn robot! Can't even take a joke! It's just soooo funnyyyyyyy!' Tartaros mocked Phantos. 'But I ain't like Phantos. Nope! Phantos is an Embryo, an Ignitionless weapon! Poor her, none of her users connected with her that deeply... On the other hand, I have one! One Ignition already, and I'm only gonna connect more with ya!'
'What are these 'Ignitions' that you speak of? A strange way of categorizing your us, perhaps? Please enlighten me and stop mocking me with your sickly, immature jokes. You are a weapon of battle and not a court jester.'
'Hahah... Well, I'll be straightforward here, and I am always straightforward when necessary. We are all weapons with a soul within us, aye? I'm sure you're awake enough to know this much, you're Phantos after all! We all know you for being the most understanding and knowledgeable of our kind!' The sarcasm was strong with the weapon.
"Are you implying that every Kind-something Weapon knows one another?"
'Most of us were created by the same man. At least, that's what they say, and his name goes by the Smoking Sage, that is as far as I am aware of our origin, sir.' Phantos explained, sounding slightly confused herself.
'Whatever! Who cares about that lame-ass nerd anyway, I have my own philosophy and I'm not just gonna have it be determined by some old guy who likes to smoke! Anyway, as Kindling Weapons we have these things called 'Ignitions', and we have three total to get to! Our way of knowing how far we've bonded with our users! It's simple, the more we become the same person, the more Ignitions we receive. This is what it means to be a Kindling Weapon with a soul!'
'So you are attempting to bond with my master? Please, have no doubt that you will regret this foolish endeavor, and-'
'Oh my goddd, could you give me a break here!? God damnit, Phantos, I'm tryna be a good friend, you're just bein' pretentious!'
'P-pretentious...?' It fell silent as if falling into a depression. 'Sir, I apologize for not understanding. Please provide a meaning for-'
'Whatever! Look, are we gonna work together?!'
Zabulus 'blinked' in surprise, "I don't really have a choice, nor do I see why not. Sure, I'll use you."
'Pwahahahaha, then that's good for me!'
"I assume we will be working together a lot now, yes?" Zabulus picked up the odd scythe.
'Absolutely! In fact, let me give ya a little taste of what I can do!'
It seemed like something was pulling his arm. It was so strange, the weapon moved and brought him to a different area full of rubble, it seemed that the entire town was in disarray as he heard people crying and shouting for help.
'Heheh, look at the mess you caused.' The weapon spoke proudly.
'Yeah, well...' Zabulus looked around, embarrassed, "Who cares about that, those people can die for all I care. I'm looking for someone-"
In that very moment, it hit him that Onofre killed Phronta, and there was no coming back from it.
'Your best friend, hmmm, you're pretty strange.' The voice inside his head spoke, as the weapon moved with him, hovering in the air with some unseen energy. 'You care about her more than your own life? What a bizzarre relationship.'
"What did you just say? Best friend?! You don't know anything."
'Bah! Whatever, that stuffs beyond me. Now, look, do you see that big wall? Try and clench my handle as much as you can, and then imagine it being severed in half, or maybe just chopping the thing in pieces, aight?'
He obeyed, holding the double-scythe tight and picturing the scene being torn apart into small pieces, and then he brought down the weapon as hard as he could against it.
The wall shook and the concrete began to crumble, a thousand pieces of debris fell onto the ground and it sounded as if a giant explosion went off. The weapon glowed and vibrated a pale light from the point of impact.
It had cut straight through the concrete, but what was demanded was met with a greater force. The wall wasn't only destroyed and cut into a thousand pieces, but a million. And it was still disintegrating, becoming dust in the air and fading away.
"Holy..." Zabulus was stunned, he couldn't believe it. "But it's not over yet, right?" He remembered Onofre's power.
'Ah! Of course not, I don't only cut physical things, I can cut metaphysical things, too! That includes Ardour! All you need to do is imagine the thing you want to cut being in your range, and then focus on cutting that exact area, or its concept! Though... we ain't close enough for that, boy. Get the Ardour going! Focus all your emotion and energy into it!'
"I don't know how to use Ardour."
'Wha!? Whaddaya mean?! Don't you need it to live?!'
He was beginning to realize just how clueless Tartaros really was, and he didn't understand her intelligence.
'Look, look, let me explain, ya hear me? Ardours and Ignition are basically the same thing, just that one is for Livin' beings, and one is for Weapons like me, aye! Both are focused on one's own image, feelings, and beliefs! You have to make a firm image of what you want to do, and your intent to do it, and like, usin' the right Ardour...'
"I don't follow. There's nothing that comes to mind, I can't form any thoughts about it because I don't even know what it is in the first place."
'WHAT!?! You ain't gettin' me twisted now, I'm no fool! Just focus and bring out whatcha have!'
"No. Not right now. It's not time for me to entertain you. I must go and find my home, if it's not ruined. Or... Not lost yet."
'HUUUH!?! Boy, what the hell is wrong with you? Don't go lyin' to me now! I know you came here because you wanted to get stronger and then, BAM, you're almost defeated, and now you're probably gonna be in deeper trouble!' The tone sounded even less serious than before. 'Look, you ain't got nothin' to lose, no? And we both know you're not as helpless as you wanna look like, not like that Onofre. You can fight, aight?'
"HEY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING OVER THERE?" Phernes' voice echoed through to Zabulus' ears, breaking his chain of thoughts. His heavy footsteps accompanied with various others approached, stopping in confusion as they saw his corpse on the ground... Yet he was standing.
"Oh, you're that guy from before." Zabulus' tone dropped as if bored by them, not showing any sign of care or worry, and completely unintimidated.
"GUY, WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?"
"I was ordered to stay here by Onofre and got attacked by some Amalgamates, but... I managed to defeat them and the rest left. She went off to find something else, she said." He lied straight through his teeth.
"OH! WELL, SHE SAID SHE'D BE VISITING YOU! SO I ASSUMED YOU WERE WITH HER." Phernes replied, clearly having believed him and not suspecting him at all, neither did the rest of the guards as they nodded along. "BUT... SAY, WHERE ARE THE CORPSES?"
"?!" The big flaw in his lie; he didn't think about it properly so it simply must've slipped him mind. His lie couldn't stand under the intense glare of his questioners, who were beginning to wonder if he was insane or a danger.
"IT'S JUST... WHERE ARE THE DEMONS, AND ALL THE LITTLE PILES OF BLOOD, AND GUTS AND STUFF THAT COMES WITH IT. NONE OF THAT IS HERE. EVEN MY MOUTH IS EMPTY!" He cried out as he pointed to his clean mouth, it was completely free of any stains of blood or traces of Amalgamates.
'Boy, this guy pisses me off! Arghhh, damnit, Phernes! You better not have your army come near me or I'll cut your body into pieces, and then eat it! You piece of shit, get the hell out of here!' Tartaros hissed at him as it floated from behind Zabulus to in front.
"WHAT?! WHY DO YOU HAVE ONOFRE'S WEAPON?!" He backed away with his squad behind him, clearly not wanting to try and engage into a fight yet, not without Onofre.
'Blah, blah, blah! She lost in a battle with Zabulus and then he became the clear victor, aye?!' Tartaros proclaimed proudly as her new wielder tried to shut it up, but it had no mouth to shut, so it continued exposing his lie, 'Anyway, if you got a problem, come and challenge Zabulus! The Onofre Bitch Killer!'
"God damn you," he said in a low tone, "Stop talking or else. I'm not trying to start a shitfest here again-"
"YOU... YOU DID WHAT? ARE YOU JOKING, OR YOU ACTUALLY... DID... OH MY GOD. ONOFRE IS DEAD... BECAUSE OF YOUUU!" Though Phernes' didn't actually care, he simply put on an act.
"Could you lower your voice a little bit? Geez, you're fucking annoying."
"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" Phernes continued to shout as he threw out a punch with his bare fist, aiming at Zabulus' Face.
His fist was met by a scythe blade, cutting it nearly in half as the inertia brought it forward towards the ground.
"FUCK, SHIT!" He screamed at the top of his lungs as he clutched his bleeding hand. "YOU PIECE OF-"
"Stop it, seriously. I don't have time for you." The rest of the guards picked up their weapons and got into a stance as Phernes fell to the ground in agony.
It was as if the world was out to get him, allow him for no rest as one after another, he was fighting the City guards, or someone else in his path was doing this, someone else he had not even noticed.