— ○ ● ○ —
"Please... some food... I'm... hungry..." came the desperate plea from the disheveled child, huddled in the shadows of an alley. His appearance spoke of neglect, as filth clung to him like a second skin—a silent testimony to the unforgiving nature of the streets. Yet, those who ambled past turned a blind eye, their indifference palpable as they continued with their daily routines.
The few who dared to meet his gaze did so with a mixture of repulsion and haste, distancing themselves from the destitution that y before them. To the eyes of the child, he was not just overlooked; he was a tangible embodiment of abandonment and societal neglect. Cast aside by parents who perceived no promise in him, he became a lone wanderer through the unforgiving urban ndscape.
Forced into the role of a beggar, and occasionally a thief in moments of dire desperation, the boy's actions were a reluctant dance with survival. However, his innate kindness and compassion, qualities deemed unwelcome in this unforgiving universe, restrained him from resorting to theft unless faced with the imminent threat of starvation.
In a world that frowned upon such virtues, the child persisted—a flickering fme in the shadows, a testament to the enduring human spirit in the callous tides of societal apathy.
— ○ ● ○ —
"Can I please have some food?" pleaded the young child, his small fist lightly tapping on the door of a nearby home. The door swung open, revealing a man whose gaze met the child's with an icy silence. A visible vein throbbed on his forehead before he abruptly smmed the door shut.
"Why do I have to confront a homeless kid begging for food in the morning? What the hell!?" he excimed in frustration.
Undeterred by this harsh rejection, the child wandered the streets for hours, continuing his plea for sustenance. His desire was simple—a meager morsel to quell the relentless pangs of hunger. Yet, to the inhabitants of this pnet, in their particur corner of the universe, compassion seemed to be an alien concept. The prevailing attitude dictated that the weak were fated to succumb to their circumstances.
In the recent history of this pnet, a grim chapter unfolded with the onset of civil war. While the popuce harbored widespread discontent, the inexorable reality compelled them to accept the harsh circumstances. The repercussions were acutely felt in the scarcity of provisions; a dire situation that forced families to ration their already limited food supplies, leaving no room for charity.
These challenging times bore witness to a surge in homelessness among children, casualties of a war that cimed their family members who were conscripted and never returned. The harrowing toll extended beyond the battlefield, manifesting in the rising death counts not only from the direct conflict but also from the tragic demise of children on the unforgiving streets. The streets became a perilous domain where hunger and violence intertwined, ciming the lives of those who dared to ask for sustenance.
As the death tolls mounted, a somber reality took hold, etching a dark chapter in their history. The annals of this era bore witness to the atrocities inflicted not only by the war itself but also by the cruel hand of destitution and desperation, leaving an indelible mark on the collective memory of this struggling society.
— ○ ● ○ —
In a moment when all seemed lost, a flicker of hope illuminated the desote existence of the young child. Seated in the corner of an alley, resigned to an acceptance of fate, a solitary light pierced through the darkness.
"Do you want to live?" inquired a tall man who appeared before him.
The young child, a mere whisper of desperation, responded, "...Food...live...anything," prompting a faint smile from the mysterious stranger.
"Come with me, young man. I am a doctor, and let me treat you," the man proposed, extending an offer that held the promise of a different path. Little did the child know, that day marked a pivotal shift in his life—not toward improvement, but rather into the clutches of an unforeseen and ominous fate.
— ○ ● ○ —
Transported to a grand mansion nestled on the same pnet, the young boy found himself captivated by the opulence that surrounded him. The estate was adorned by a sprawling, picturesque ke teeming with life, where vibrant fish darted amidst lush aquatic greenery. As they crossed the threshold into the expansive home, a world of luxury unfolded before the boy's eyes.
"You will have many friends from now on, and you won't be lonely anymore," the man assured him, a pledge that sparked a glimmer of hope in the child's eyes.
"Thank you, kind sir," the boy responded, his gratitude tinged with the persistent growl of hunger that betrayed his ordeal.
Guided to a spacious mess hall, the boy was presented with a feast fit for royalty. His hunger, a relentless companion, drove him to devour the nourishment before him as if his very existence depended on it.
The man observed with a benevolent smile, orchestrating the arrival of servants who replenished the bounty until the boy could eat no more, offering a respite from the hunger that had haunted him on the unforgiving streets.
Tears cascaded down the young boy's face as he expressed his gratitude to the man, whom he began affectionately calling "Father." The man's response was a peculiar smile, one that seemed warm to the boy, unaware of the eerie undertones that lingered beneath the surface.
As time unfolded, the boy acclimated to his newfound life, forging bonds with the other children under the man's care. Their days were filled with ughter and games, creating a sembnce of joy in their shared existence. Whether it was pying with a ball, engaging in a spirited game of tag, or indulging in the thrill of hide and seek, the children reveled in the camaraderie that enveloped them.
Meanwhile, the man, masquerading as their benevolent overseer, observed their delight from a distance. A smile adorned his face, occasionally accompanied by a wave that feigned happiness for the children's blissful moments. Unbeknownst to them, a conversation unfolded behind the man's back.
"When will be the right time?" inquired a voice from the shadows.
"Not yet. But soon, we need them to be ready," replied the man with calcuted assurance. "For now, we wait and see." The ominous words hung in the air, shrouding the idyllic facade of their seemingly joyous existence with an unsettling uncertainty.
— ○ ● ○ —
As time unfolded, a disconcerting reality gradually settled upon the young boy—a number of his cherished friends were mysteriously vanishing from his life. Puzzled by their abrupt absences, he mustered the courage to approach the man he had come to regard as "Father."
"Father, where are my friends going? I haven't seen some of them in a while," he inquired, his unease evident in his demeanor.
Maintaining the same kind smile, the doctor reassured him, "They were adopted by families. We anticipated that many of you would be saddened by this, so we chose to handle it discreetly. Here is a picture of them in their new, happy lives."
The doctor retrieved a photograph, revealing the image of one of the boy's friends who appeared radiantly happy, surrounded by the warmth of an older couple. Despite the pang of sadness that tugged at the boy's heart, he managed a genuine smile, genuinely happy for his friend's newfound joy.
"I see... I'm gd he found a family. Will I be adopted in the future?" the boy inquired, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.
Maintaining his reassuring smile, the doctor affirmed, "Yes, of course. You and everyone else will find happy homes in the future." With those words, the boy embraced the promise, his trust unwavering as he eagerly awaited his turn, believing in the prospect of a brighter, happier tomorrow.
— ○ ● ○ —
In an abrupt and disorienting awakening, the young boy found himself confined in an unfamiliar, foreboding environment. His limbs restrained by cold, unyielding cuffs, and the stark reality of locked bars surrounding him induced a sense of panic. Confusion and fear swept over him as he frantically scanned the alien surroundings, desperately calling out for the father he had come to trust.
His pleas, however, were met with a sudden and brutal force, an unseen assaint striking him in the stomach, forcing him into a convulsive bout of vomiting. The brief and terrifying ordeal left the boy subdued, his cries silenced as he huddled in a corner of his cell, trembling with both fear and the desperate hope that his supposed "father" would come to his rescue.
'Why? Why am I here? Where is father? He'll come and rescue me, right? Like he did before... yes, he'll rescue me... father is kind... he is a kind man,' echoed the boy's thoughts as he drifted into an uneasy slumber, clinging to the belief that salvation would arrive with the dawn.
Yet, that day of liberation never came. Days stretched into weeks, seamlessly evolving into months, and before he comprehended the passage of time, a year had epsed—a haunting testament to the relentless solitude and uncertainty that had become the boy's unfortunate reality.
— ○ ● ○ —
A glimmer of hope pierced the desotion as a familiar voice echoed in the air. The boy's heart leaped at the sight of his supposed "father," and he called out eagerly. However, the man remained unresponsive, accompanied by a stranger whose identity eluded the boy's recognition. No matter how fervently he tried, his pleas for acknowledgment went unanswered.
As the two figures engaged in conversation, the boy's anticipation wilted, and once again, the beacon of hope flickered out. The person he had clung to, the one he believed would rescue him, callously departed without sparing a gnce or a comforting word. The cold indifference in their eyes extinguished the fragile fme of expectation.
Before the boy could grapple with the crushing realization, a blunt force struck him on the head, plunging him into unconsciousness. In the hazy recesses of his mind, amid the swirl of thoughts, a single question echoed insistently—
"Why?"
— ○ ● ○ —
Upon regaining consciousness, the boy found himself in an entirely unfamiliar setting, disorientation gripping him. His limbs were securely bound by wires and threads, rendering any attempt at movement or escape futile.
As panic surged within him, he cast frantic gnces around the eerie environment. To his astonishment and horror, his missing friends were there, all of them. However, an unsettling realization gnawed at him—they appeared different, almost unreal, akin to...
"A doll," he whispered, his voice barely audible in the strange surroundings.
"Correct, little one~" sang a woman's voice, a haunting melody that seemed to emanate from an unseen presence.
From the shadows emerged a woman, a mysterious figure with long hair that intertwined bck and white strands. Her lic-colored eyes bore a peculiar intensity, accentuated by red and purple lipstick that adorned her lips.
A pair of red earrings dangled gracefully, complementing her striking appearance. She donned a bck and white female business suit, accentuated by a fur coat of the same hues and adorned with red gloves. Mascara framed her eyes, and at her side hung a small wand, neatly secured to a belt.
"W-who are you…? Wh-where am I? W-where's father…?" the boy stammered, his voice trembling with fear and confusion.
"My, aren't you the curious one~" she purred, a sly smile pying on her lips. "Your friends told me a lot about you. So I picked you, so you can spend all of eternity together and help me with my projects. Aren't you lucky?" The woman's words hung in the air, ced with an eerie sense of entitlement.
With a casual turn, she began to stride away but halted, looking back over her shoulder. "Oh yes, I'm Enor. Call me Mother if you wish," she decred, punctuating the statement with a wink before disappearing into the shadows, leaving the bewildered boy in the clutches of uncertainty and an unsettling fate.
— ○ ● ○ —
Surveying his surroundings, the boy's distress deepened as he realized that his once-vibrant friends had indeed been transformed into dolls. The unsettling part, however, was that their eyes shifted to follow his every move, and occasionally, their silent mouths produced eerie cttering sounds, amplifying the already chilling atmosphere.
Some of the dolls attempted to communicate with him, but their attempts only intensified his fear. Desperate to escape the disconcerting reality, he tightly shut his eyes, attempting to drown out the unsettling sounds that surrounded him. In the oppressive silence, he lost track of time until the haunting hum of Enor permeated the room, signaling her return.
"W-what are you going to do to me...?" the boy questioned nervously as Enor reentered.
Enor's smile widened as she snapped her fingers, causing the boy's clothes to disperse into the air, leaving him exposed and utterly confused, the fear intensifying. "You'll be joining your friend soon, and you'll be working for me for a very, very long time~" Enor decred, her words sending a chill down the boy's spine, prompting a terrified scream to escape his lips.
The boy found himself surrounded by the awakening machines, each one ominously closing in on him with a mechanical precision. Tears welled up in his eyes as the grim specter of impending death loomed over him. The fear of mortality gripped his heart, and a desperate plea for salvation escaped his lips.
In the face of the advancing machines, the boy's mind raced, desperately clinging to the hope of a divine intervention. With each step the machines took, his silent prayers morphed into anguished pleas. Yet, amidst the echoing silence, there was no response, no benevolent force reaching out to spare him from the impending doom.
As the mechanical entities encroached upon him, the boy's realization cut through the haze of fear. His past, a pattern ced with abandonment, homelessness, and betrayal, unfolded before him. The once-cherished belief in a dependable figure shattered, leaving him vulnerable to the merciless advance of the machines.
In the clutches of excruciating pain, his screams echoed the bitter truths of his forsaken existence. The machines, devoid of empathy, drove piercing tendrils into his flesh, the physical manifestation of a life marked by abandonment and deception.
Even on the verge of losing consciousness, the boy managed to cast a surprising gnce upward at Enor, leaving her taken aback. "I... forgive you," he mumbled, his words hanging in the air as he succumbed to unconsciousness—an unexpected twist that caught Enor off guard.
The dolls surrounding Enor and Enor herself shared a collective moment of bewilderment. Enor, however, responded with a scoff, dismissing the unexpected act of forgiveness. "To think you'd harbor such sentiments until the very end... how repulsive. Your naivety expins the extent of your suffering," she remarked coldly.
A contemptive silence enveloped Enor as she continued her work, meticulously crafting the final doll in her lineup. Her hands moved with practiced precision, each movement a testament to her tears of experience. In her thoughts, she pondered the harsh reality of the universe she inhabited.
'Only the strong survive in this unforgiving universe. Dispying any sign of weakness is an invitation to be killed. Kindness... such a concept holds no ground here,' she reflected, resolute in her conviction as she forged the st creation in her line.
— ○ ● ○ —
Utilizing her machines and her own meticulous craftsmanship, Enor devoted herself to completing the final product. Yet, amidst the satisfaction of her creation, she grappled with the realization that allowing it to roam freely posed a potential threat. Ingeniously, she devised a strategic pn to tether control to this singur doll, recognizing the advantageous position it could afford her.
Standing within the confines of the basement, the former abode of the doctor, Enor addressed her creation with a satisfied smile. "From the heart of this dwelling, the very core of its structure, you shall reign as the master of all," she decred, entrusting the doll with a unique responsibility. Acknowledging the origins of many of its counterparts crafted from the remains of the boy's friends, Enor saw an opportunity to leverage this particur creation.
"Guard this pce, even as I eventually abandon it," she continued, her tone betraying a mixture of calcuted foresight and a certain detachment.
The desote pnet beneath Enor's feet bore the weight of a sinister history, a history she had meticulously orchestrated. This was the very world from which the young boy and the doctor hailed. As the covert puppeteer, Enor had maniputed events from the shadows, setting the stage for a devastating civil war that unfolded at her behest.
Unable to restrain her impatience, Enor took matters into her own hands. Alone, she unleashed her previous creations upon the unsuspecting pnet, orchestrating a cataclysm that rendered the once-thriving world into a barren wastend. Now, with the canvas of destruction before her, she found soce in the ability to mold the remnants of the pnet to her liking.
Within the confines of a cage, wires connecting to his form, the doll embodying the essence of the boy remained silent. His response transcended verbal communication, as his eyes glowed, a subtle indication that he comprehended Enor's instructions.
As if stirred to life by some unseen force, the doll finally broke the silence. "Do... do you want to py?" he queried, a faint echo of the boy's voice resonating through the cold confines. The inquiry sparked a smile on Enor's face, the expression hinting at an inscrutable amusement.
"Perfect. I shall stay in this space for a few additional years, meticulously formuting the blueprints for my next project. Once the groundwork is id, I will leave for a different pnet to conduct a series of experiments," she muttered contemptively while making her exit.
Simultaneously, the boy that had become the main doll, alongside its fellow inanimate counterparts within the room, commenced a subdued incantation. Their collective murmurs harmonized into an eerie refrain, enticing with the inquiry, "Do you want to py?" or variations thereof.
— ○ ● ○ —
A multitude of years epsed, during which the dolls dutifully safeguarded the pnet that Enor had designated as her temporary home. The young boy, now stuck to the subterranean depths, issued occasional directives to its doll friends. However, the dolls, driven by an innate commitment, had assumed the responsibility of "protecting" this space of their own accord, deeming it their intrinsic "home."
The locale drew a continuous stream of intrepid adventurers and curious visitors, all drawn by the allure of exploration. Yet, upon breaching a particur threshold in the pnet, weathered and eerie-looking dolls appeared to forcefully expel these intruders. Those who dared to resist found themselves confronting the dolls, only to succumb to fatal injuries inflicted during the skirmish.
In the aftermath of each encounter, the boy, still orchestrating affairs from the subterranean depths, commanded the burial of the fallen. As the years unfurled, an excess of graves appeared across the pnet's expanse, transforming the northern quadrant into a vast burial ground.
'Why? Why did this happen to all of us? All we ever wanted was a chance at life, to not starve, to be happy, and to be in happy families. Was that too to ask for?' mused the boy, a solitary tear miraculously emerging from his mechanical eye.
'We don't want to harm anyone, but people keep coming here so we're forced to defend ourselves—defend our home. Why won't they leave us alone…?' pondered the boy, his thoughts echoing in the quietude. However, as he surveyed the exterior, a more heartfelt realization dawned upon him. '…I just wanted to py more with everyone…'
— ○ ● ○ —
Raerea's Soliloquy
— ○ ● ○ —
The outer god abruptly stopped before the door, an evident downturn in his mood. The cause remained elusive to us, shrouded in the veils of mystery. His gaze fixated on the handles, a palpable silence enveloping the surroundings. After a deep inhation, the outer god lifted his gaze, unlocking the door with deliberate intent.
"Do we do the same thing as earlier?" inquired Velgrynd, her curiosity punctuating the uneasy stillness.
In response, Aaron Toole shook his head. Rather than directly addressing her query, he issued cryptic instructions, "Position yourselves by the entrance. Wait until I give the signal, and do not move."
Unease radiated through the assembled group as they processed these directives. Nevertheless, they complied, their disquiet manifesting in their collective demeanor. Azathoth, the outer god, maintained an unwavering focus on Aaron.
This gaze, unbroken throughout the day—or perhaps the entire week leading up to this pivotal mission—had not gone unnoticed among Team [DxD]. Whispers circuted about this strange scrutiny, but none dared to inquire into its underlying significance.
Striding away, Aaron Toole uttered a compelling invocation, "Grudge, resentment, regret. Your unending grudge, your unheard cries, your unfulfilled regrets. Let them all be consumed by the fmes of liberation." A transformative shift unfolded within him, not the customary darkness that accompanied the outer gods, but an effulgent silvery-white aura enveloped his being.
<
The stunning aura surged forth from Aaron's body, enshrouding the entire pnet in a comforting glow. A gentle warmth emanated from the light, initiating a miraculous healing process. Lingering injuries, long concealed scars, began to disappear, prompting astonishment from me.
"Teeeeheee~" eerie voices echoed in an unsettling chorus around us. Aaron Toole advanced towards the initial staircase of the mansion, an otherworldly amalgamation of darkness and fmes cascading in their wake, yet paradoxically, nothing succumbed to the inferno. A hushed shock settled over the onlookers as they bore witness to the unfolding spectacle.
"Teeeheee~" persisted the haunting refrain of the dolls, their unsettling chant permeating the atmosphere.
I didn't understand the perplexity of the unfolding events. However, the others seem to understand, especially, the angels—Dulio, Griselda, Jessica, and Mirana, alongside the dragon Velgrynd, all dispying signs of comprehension. Even Azathoth maintained an unbroken gaze on Aaron, an inscrutable expression betraying a subtle disquiet.
"Py with us!" the dolls persisted in their haunting chant, their voices reverberating throughout the space. The entreaty hung in the air, a surreal invitation.
In response, Aaron Toole offered a smile that bespoke an understanding. <
Suddenly, an expansive silvery-white screen appeared before us, bearing the procmation, [Activating the ability: [To Those Who Create Miracles], all members of (Aaron Toole's) group affected.]
A transformative effect coursed through us, dispelling the disconcerting aura that had lingered, rendering us unaffected to the ominous sensations and ceaseless attacks that had previously been aimed at us.
"Huh~? That man isn't dying," remarked one doll, perplexed.
"He's not being hurt!" excimed another, their astonishment echoing through the eerie space.
"Doesn't it hurt?" queried a third, curiosity permeating their unsettling voices.
A lone doll drifted towards Aaron Toole, posing the question, "So, you can py with us?"
Turning around, he unveiled his face—an expression of profound sadness etched across his features. Despite this, he summoned a resilient smile and responded, <
The dolls exchanged gnces before erupting into amused giggles. "What a weird old man!" they collectively excimed.
Aaron Toole, with a pyful demeanor, covered his eyes and decred, <
"Everyone, hide yourselves!" shouted a doll.
"Hurry! Hurry! Run away, hide, hide!"
Maintaining his gentle smile, Aaron Toole continued, <
Engaged in a game of hide and seek with these ghostly children confined to the very pnet they haunted, the realization settled upon us like a heavy shroud. Their existence, tethered to this pnet, was a heart-breaking reminder of their curse. Gncing around, it was evident that a select few comprehended the gravity of the situation, a shared understanding that elicited tears for these trapped souls.
"Aaron is a kind soul. In time, he'll befriend you. Have faith."
Lavinia Reni's words echoed in my mind, a sentiment that resonated with others who had become prisoners of the Resistance. While I intellectually grasped the concept, the emotional intricacies remained elusive, an alien sensation that required time to understand.
"Go, go, go! Hide!" urged one doll.
"Hurry, let's go to the best hiding spots, hurry!!" chimed in another.
"Don't get caught by him!" cautioned a third, followed by a chorus of pyful giggles that reverberated through the mansion's expanse.
With a flourish, Aaron Toole uncovered his eyes and excimed, <
The doll's mouth agape, it emitted a giggle before responding, "Nope! Not me!" Suddenly, the doll's form dissolved, liberating the spirit from its spectral confines. Beside Aaron, the child's spirit appeared, gratitude reflected in its smiling visage.
"Thank you," the boy expressed to Aaron, who reciprocated the smile before proceeding, yet the liberated soul trailed in his wake.
<
"Nope, not me~!" the doll excimed, echoing the previous scenario as yet another young soul joined the growing assembly.
The scene unfolded before us, a recurring dispy as Aaron Toole traversed the entire first room, his hands gently reaching out to the dolls, liberating them from their spectral confines. <
Upon completing his rounds in the room, surrounded by a chorus of children's souls, Aaron crouched down and touched the first child's head, delivering a compassionate reassurance, <
The children's souls encircling him beamed with gratitude, enveloping him in a collective embrace. Simultaneously, they expressed their thanks, "Thank you, kind sir." In unison, they dissipated into the cosmic void, their liberated spirits finding soce as the room, once filled with spectral echoes, settled into a tranquil stillness.
"...He's... appeasing their souls," I uttered, grappling with the profoundness of Aaron's compassionate actions. It left me perplexed; why go to such lengths? Why not opt for a quicker resolution, like destroying their existence?
Finally acknowledging our presence, Aaron Toole addressed us, <
Dulio, wiping tears from his eyes, enthusiastically excimed, "Let's get this started then! Here I come, although I have to admit, I'm pretty terrible at this game!!" With that, he sprinted off in pursuit of more dolls.
Others followed suit, wiping away tears and expressing their readiness. We quickly vacated the room, our collective goal to liberate more tormented souls through the whimsical act of pying hide and seek.
I chose to remain on the outside, but the others, including even Azathoth and Velgrynd, approached the task with a solemn determination, each eager to bring soce to the tormented spirits haunting this otherworldly pnet.
— ○ ● ○ —
A gradual procession unfolded as each member of our group, one by one, engaged in the whimsical game of hide and seek with the dolls. Griselda Quarta, a woman among us, approached a pair of dolls and crouched before them, tenderly patting their heads while crooning a gentle lulby.
"That sounds nice," remarked the doll on the left.
"It makes me sleepy," added the doll on the right.
As the lulby concluded, the spirits of the children were liberated from the doll's constraints, and they commenced joyously running around Griselda before expressing their gratitude and vanishing. Griselda, visibly moved, wiped away tears and proceeded to another small group, perpetuating the cycle of comfort and liberation.
Simir scenes pyed out around me. Jessica Lagerkvist, the typically weary angel, found herself comforting dolls that were shedding tears—or rather, the souls she had liberated. Tenderly consoling them, she ushered them into tranquility before they, too, disappeared into the cosmic void, freed from their leathery confines.
In the distance, Dulio Gesualdo danced and pyed in the company of dolls and the liberated souls of children. His energy mirrored that of a child thoroughly immersed in py, prompting the realization that he possessed a natural affinity for interacting with the young spirits.
Grayfia Lucifuge, the devil maid of Aaron Toole, told me that they identified as a follower of a particur religion emphasizing kindness, elucidated their benevolent actions. While initially strange to me, their current endeavors unmistakably embodied the ideologies of compassion and goodwill toward others.
Even the typically reserved Mirana Shatarova emerged from her shell, brandishing a small instrument and pying it around a group of dolls. As the melodic notes filled the air, the dolls gradually melted, transforming into liberated souls.
They listened attentively to the serene melody, their ghostly forms dissipating into the cosmic expanse, guided by the tender serenade from Mirana.To my increasing surprise, the two insectoids accompanying Aaron Toole willingly allowed countless dolls to cling to them, pyfully traversing the space as they adhered to their master's directive to aid the spirits in their transition to the afterlife.
This unexpected dispy was surreal, given the nature of their species, typically not prone to such acts of empathy. Aaron Toole's influence, it appeared, was capable of eliciting unforeseen behaviors even from these peculiar beings.
Venturing into a different room, I stumbled upon the "Fated Ones," as they occasionally referred to themselves, engaging in a simir endeavor. Lavinia Reni orchestrated a peculiar doll show with her ice summons, while Suzaku Himejima entertained them with a tale from their own universe.
It became apparent that they had gathered the dolls in this room, using various methods to provide soce and facilitate their journey into the afterlife.
In an unexpected turn, Rossweisse, the valkyrie, found herself in the most awkward situation yet endeavored to make the best of it. Her attempts at engaging with the dolls, albeit with visible embarrassment, proved to be a source of amusement for the ghostly children, who ughed wholeheartedly. Noticing their joy, Rossweisse leaned into the pyful interaction, a shy smile on her face despite her lingering self-consciousness.
Even more surprising was the dragon Velgrynd's dispy of compassion. Known for her straightforward and direct demeanor, she had maintained a rather unyielding attitude throughout the week. However, on this day, a softer side emerged.
Gently cradling two dolls on her p, she whispered, "You can sleep now," while tenderly stroking their heads. In a fleeting moment, Aaron's form seemed to overp with Velgrynd's, a convergence that caught my attention. Startled, she gnced up at me, her cheeks flushed with a sudden blush, before resuming her caring gestures.
Perhaps the most astonishing of all was Azathoth, the other outer god and former ruler of all, actively participating in the endeavor. Her mode of communication have nothing to do with words, and instead, she conveyed her intentions through actions. Azathoth summoned toys and harnessed her powers to alleviate the lingering pain felt by the dolls. Remarkably, her efforts elicited ughter and smiles from the dolls, who, in turn, transitioned into liberated souls.
However, a shadow of uncertainty clouded Azathoth's face throughout the process. While she might not entirely comprehend the motivations driving Aaron Toole, she chose to follow suit, contributing in her own unique way.
It became apparent that Azathoth, like many denizens of our universe, was still in the process of understanding emotions and navigating the complexities of feelings.
The final participant in this unexpected symphony of soce was Aoife Murphy. In a separate room, she appeared more emotionally affected than the dolls themselves, cradling many of them while exuding a sense of deep distress. It was an odd and emotional scene, distinct from the others, with Aoife seemingly more preoccupied by sorrow than the spectral children she sought to comfort.
Her emotional turbulence was so palpable that the dolls, in an unprecedented twist, attempted to console her instead. Aoife, shaking her head, reached out to one of the dolls, uttering, "No, I'm fine... I'm just... I'm just happy that all of you will be safe after this."
"The old dy is weird," commented one of the dolls, reflecting an understanding or, perhaps, a limited interpretation of the complex emotional state exhibited by Aoife.
"The old dy is kind since she's crying for us," chimed in another doll, their simple yet heartfelt observation prompting a collective chant of "old dy." The unexpected chorus succeeded in bringing ughter to Aoife, dispelling the initial somberness that had hung in the air.
Eventually rising from her emotional reverie, Aoife joined in the pyful interaction with the dolls, participating in the process of liberating their souls. Once the task was completed, she noticed my presence, offering a friendly wave before approaching.
"Is everyone nearly done?" she inquired sniffling a little.
"I don't know, none of us have a clear count. Considering Enor's fondness for experiments, it's safe to assume there are quite a lot. These children may have been subjects or unfortunate results of her experiments, left to rot," I responded, shedding light on the grim history that likely tied these spectral children to Enor's scientific pursuits.
Aoife acknowledged my expnation with a subtle shift in her demeanor. We exited the room, rejoining the others in their shared endeavor. As we progressed through this ethereal task, the collective effort ultimately led to the liberation of approximately 371 children, the st one awaiting release in the basement of the mansion.
— ○ ● ○ —
"The st pce is the basement, right?" Dulio inquired, a tinge of mencholy in his sigh.
<
"How long is this pce? We've been walking for at least five minutes," Rossweisse queried, her confusion evident regarding the seemingly endless staircase.
"...We should arrive at the basement in around five more minutes at our pace. If we hurry, then we'll get there in no time," Azathoth calmly reassured.
Despite the additional information, Aaron Toole maintained his silence, persisting with the same measured pace. As his companions engaged in quiet conversations, the descent continued. Following Azathoth's estimation, after another five minutes, we reached the bottom, standing on the threshold of the basement.
A sizable metallic door stood before us, and without hesitation, Aaron Toole touched it, causing the door to seemingly disintegrate. Stepping into the room beyond, an overwhelming stench of blood and decay assaulted our senses.
The putrid atmosphere elicited a collective reaction, with everyone—myself included, except for Azathoth, Velgrynd, and the two insectoids—covering our mouths and noses in an attempt to ward off the repulsive odor.
Within the room y an assortment of machines and equipment, likely remnants of Enor's past experiments. However, the perplexing aspect was the lingering smell. Typically, such odors should dissipate over time after the abandonment of a pce.
Enor had left this pce for a considerable number of years, so the persistence of the foul odor raised unsettling questions. Why did it endure, defying the normal course of time and decay?
<<...Celrion, Qune, take him outside and deal with him. Others will arrive soon too, so we'll join you,>> Aaron Toole ordered, prompting the two insectoids to swiftly advance, creating a shockwave as they disappeared.
"W-what was that?" Dulio asked, clearly shocked by the sudden turn of events.
<<...The boy's past still haunting him. I ordered those two to get rid of it,>> Aaron calmly expined, continuing to walk.
Dulio, while not fully grasping the details, chose to trust in Aaron's leadership. As we walked, tremors reverberated from aboveground, indicating the ongoing efforts to address the lingering issue. After another two minutes, we reached the end of our journey, discovering a single, rge cage housing a small doll.
"...This is their...leader?" Lavinia Reni inquired, her voice tinged with sorrow and horror at the sight of the doll in its confined state.
<
He reached out, touching the cage and causing it to wither away. Crouching down, <
The small doll looked up at Aaron Toole, asking, "Are you going to py with me?"
With a compassionate smile, he removed the wires from the doll and embraced it. <<...I found you... you're it.>> The heartfelt words lingered in the air, marking the culmination of a distressing journey to liberate the tormented souls of these spectral children, with the one in his arms being the embodiment of both tragedy.
The doll's body began to liquefy, and the melding of pstic and metal formed what appeared to be tears in its eyes. Slowly, its hands moved to reciprocate the hug with Aaron, uttering, "Thank you... for freeing us, kind sir..." The doll continued to melt, eventually dissolving into a spectral manifestation of a young boy who stood before Aaron, expressing gratitude. "Thank you..." the boy smiled before vanishing, leaving the room in a profound stillness.
Aaron remained kneeling for a few moments, the impact of the experience evident on his demeanor. The collective emotions were palpable, affecting not just him but all of us, perhaps even Azathoth.
Gncing around, I observed Lavinia's widened eyes, reflecting a mixture of horror and realization. "Is that what Laeronia meant...?" she whispered to herself, her words catching the attention of Suzaku, who shared a simir reaction.
Eventually, Aaron Toole stood up and turned to us before quietly walking past, the weight of the recent encounter evident in the solemn atmosphere that enveloped us.
"Aaron—" Velgrynd began to say something, but Aaron brought himself to a halt.
"When I understood what was happening here, I didn't know how to feel—no, I did. I simply heeded Laeronia's warning. He told me to keep a cool head and not let my emotions run wild with what I might see here. I think I did well for myself," Aaron expined.
"But... the longer I went around helping those children rest, I couldn't help but see Vivi in some of them—thinking about my own daughter being subjected to this before we met her, the things she's experienced and might experience if we don't destroy the Phantasma and Evie..."
The silvery-white aura around his body flickered, giving way to the jet-bck darkness typical of outer gods, causing me to instinctively step back. <
The weight of Aaron Toole's words lingered in the room, leaving us uncertain about their implications. As he walked away, a cascade of questions flooded our minds. What did his procmation mean? Was he set on executing them all without understanding their circumstances? Did he possess the ability to foresee the future, rendering a final judgment on individuals before even meeting them?
Uncertainty gnawed at us. What fate awaited each of us, particurly those within the Eradicators, a group with complex motivations and varying degrees of innocence? As my thoughts raced, contempting the potential outcomes, the aftermath of the recent revetions left me uneasy. The looming question persisted: How would Aaron Toole act in the wake of these revetions, and what role would we py in the unfolding events?
With heavy footsteps, the rest of us hurriedly ran to catch up with him, sensing the uneasiness that hung in the air.
— ○ ● ○ —
Aaron Toole's Soliloquy
— ○ ● ○ —
I'm feeling terrible. Perhaps I shouldn't have let those words slip, but everything I said about Enor, I meant it. I'm harboring this intense resentment, and I'm contempting putting an end to her in the future. At this moment, I'm indifferent to whatever tragic backstory she might have; I'm determined to erase her existence. Given her frequent pnetary migrations, it's evident that she's persisting with her experiments, leading to more victims scattered across the cosmos.
I intend to address this matter explicitly once we return to the ship, making it clear that I pn to obliterate this pnet. It has become a breeding ground for too many victims, and its history is burdened with tragedy, making its destruction the more humane option.
"Aaron," Aoife uttered, catching up with me as we ascended the stairs.
"…Yes?" I replied, our steps synchronized.
"Let me have a conversation with Enor before you take any drastic action. I need to understand why," Aoife implored, her voice tinged with desperation.
"That's acceptable. There might be others who feel the same way," I responded, and we continued our ascent in silence until Aoife broke it once more.
"What did you mean by that earlier? The boy's past was still with him?" Aoife inquired.
"I'm curious about that too," chimed in Velgrynd from behind us. Gncing backward, I observed that everyone had caught up with us, and I consented to provide an expnation.
"…The man who took that boy in was the same monstrous entity that inhabited that pce. Over the years, it managed to materialize into a physical form. Although his own spirit lingered in this pce, thanks to the boy, he succeeded in trapping it in the basement, preventing it from leaving. However, due to its peculiar corporeal composition, it emitted a rather unpleasant odor throughout the area," I elucidated.
"That expins the unpleasant odor," remarked Rossweisse, her hand instinctively covering her nose as she recalled the smell. Before I could delve into more details, the surface quivered with even more pronounced tremors, and we all sensed a surge in life forms.
"…I sense more auras," Mirana observed.
"Indeed, and quite a lot of them… What should we do? I doubt they're reinforcements for us," Dulio pondered.
"They're part of Enor's group. Let's split up and eliminate them. There are only two prominent figures among them, but they've brought a horde of expendable foes, mostly androids. Just destroy them," I instructed.
"I'll handle the one I need to talk to. The rest of you can choose your targets. Also, be cautious—those robots can be surprisingly powerful." With that, I disappeared from view, but not before Aoife, Lavinia, and Suzaku tched onto me, compelling me to take them along.
— ○ ● ○ —
Third Person Point of View
— ○ ● ○ —
Arriving at the western side of the desote pnet, Aaron and the trio of women clinging to him found a ndscape characterized by barrenness, scattered mountains, decaying trees, and tombstones. In the foreground, a sizable spacecraft stood, with a woman positioned in front of it, surrounded by an array of androids varying in size, their white bodies complemented by ominous glowing red eyes.
The woman, with light pink hair, purple eyes, and adorned in a long white general's dress with red accents, caught Aaron's attention. A red cape trailed behind her, matching the color of her polished nails and the overall ominous aura she exuded.
"Hmm? I didn't think there would be people here. Well, regardless, Lady Enor told us to bring back any potential subjects here, let's—" she began, only to be interrupted as Aaron snapped his fingers, causing all the androids surrounding them to disintegrate into pieces, leaving the woman in a state of bewilderment and shock.
Advancing with an imposing stride, Aaron extended his hand, enveloped in an eerie silvery-white aura. The woman before him found herself lifted into the air, futilely attempting to cw at an invisible force constricting her throat.
Panic gripped her as she struggled to break free, but her efforts proved fruitless. <> Aaron decred with a tone that left no room for defiance.
As if in response to the unfolding scene, more androids materialized from the spaceship, swiftly advancing towards Aaron. However, his [Infinity] effortlessly thwarted their attacks. Undeterred, he approached the levitating woman and remarked, <
"…Let's handle these enemies first and then join Aaron," Lavinia decred with a resolute tone. Aoife and Suzaku concurred, and as they prepared to engage, distinct androids emerged amidst the advancing army from the ship.
Three powerful androids appeared, soaring towards them and compelling the group to engage in combat. However, the challenge escated as additional androids joined the fray, amplifying the number of adversaries.
Aoife found herself confronted by a rge yet slender android, its razor-thin limbs resembling deadly bdes. It swiftly glided toward her, etching lines into the ground, before abruptly accelerating. Aoife, agile and alert, narrowly evaded a hyper-fast kick aimed at her face, the android's movements leaving a frenetic energy in their wake.
'It suddenly got quicker, why? No…it felt like when Aaron uses his boosters in his Bance Breaker forms. Maybe it has those?' Aoife pondered as she unsheathed her sword, the [Fragarach]. Swiftly vanishing from sight, Aoife executed a sideways swing at the android, only for it to deftly block her attack with its left arm.
The android countered, repelling Aoife's sword before leaping into the air. It began to spin while orchestrating a complex array of movements with its arms and legs, all aimed at Aoife.
In response, she raised her sword to block the incoming assault, yet to her surprise, a cut manifested on her cheek. The unexpected injury forced Aoife to forcefully fling the android away using her sword and strength, but it nded gracefully on the ground, ready for the next exchange.
Aoife released a composed breath, consciously calming herself. Aware that the remnants of her earlier agitation lingered, fueled by the recent encounter and her conversation with Aaron, she opted to reset her mental state. This routine exercise, practiced many times before, consistently proved effective in restoring her calm and sharpening her focus.
Completing her calming ritual, Aoife turned her attention to the motionless android. She presumed it was analyzing her as well. In a silent, swift movement, she vanished, leaving the android momentarily bewildered. Before it could comprehend what had occurred, Aoife decisively severed one of its legs from its body.
Startled by the loss of its limb, the android emitted an odd sound before hurtling towards Aoife in a frenzy. Its movements, now more erratic, showcased a desperate attempt to eliminate her. Undeterred, Aoife, with a tranquil mind, adeptly blocked and parried each of the android's strikes, dispying a newfound ease in her defensive maneuvers.
In a moment of opportunity, Aoife seized the initiative. Swiftly and decisively, she swung her sword upward, cleanly severing both arms of the android. Without missing a beat, she pivoted, dashed backward, and methodically sliced apart the remaining components of the android into countless fragments. Endling its life.
Aoife let out a sigh, dispatching the remaining androids in her vicinity. As the immediate threat subsided, she touched her cheek, puzzled by the breach in Aaron's enchantments. "How did it get past Aaron's enchantments…?" she mused, examining her clothes with a rapid blink. "T-these aren't enchanted!? Why?! A-are these the new pair I didn't get enchanted yet…?"
A blush crept onto Aoife's face as the reality of her oversight sank in. The realization that her own pse had exposed her to potential harm weighed on her, prompting another sigh. "I can go into self-loathing ter, let's just get this day over with first," she murmured to herself, pushing the momentary setback aside. With renewed determination, Aoife swiftly dashed away, intent on continuing the onsught against the influx of androids.
— ○ ● ○ —
On Suzaku's front, she had summoned [Zhuque], and together, they effortlessly fended off the onsught of androids. However, a unique and colossal android, standing at an imposing 30 meters, emerged to challenge her.
"Do you want help?" Zhuque, the Vermillion Bird, offered.
"No, I'm fine, thank you," Suzaku replied, gracefully evading sers, missiles, and various attacks unched by the colossal android.
Even in the midst of battle, Suzaku couldn't shake off the lingering impact of the recent events. The unsettling scenes witnessed had left their mark. As someone who had experienced her own share of abuse at the hands of Suou Himejima, camoufged under the guise of "tough love" and "training," she had come to acknowledge it for what it truly was. This revetion had dawned upon her weeks prior, culminating in a candid conversation with Aaron before they ventured into the Phantasma together.
Suzaku's love for her family ran deep, almost to a fault. Yet, even with that profound affection, she couldn't turn a blind eye to the inherent wrongness and toxicity embedded in some of their age-old traditions and systems.
Witnessing the stark injustices unfold, particurly on the pnet ravaged by those malevolent dolls, tore at her heart. She grieved for the victims in solitude, shedding tears for their plight as she helped guide their souls to the afterlife.
Amidst another barrage of attacks, Suzaku's body ignited in fmes, and with a swift maneuver, she vanished, reappearing directly in front of the colossal android's face. Smming her foot into its face, she unleashed a torrent of fmes upon it, propelling the android backward. The intense heat not only bsted the android away but also melted much of the ground around them, a distressing sight that made Suzaku scrunch up her face in dismay.
"…Aaron will destroy this pnet but…I don't think he'll like doing it himself. It's something he has to do to erase the foul history of it and the suffering of the other souls lost here," Suzaku murmured to herself before redirecting her focus to the colossal android, which had managed to rise again.
Observing the significant damage she had inflicted, Suzaku anticipated that the android would still be operational. She propelled herself towards it, surrounded by her fmes. As she closed in, the android unleashed another barrage of attacks, yet this time, within a certain radius around Suzaku, its attacks simply melted away, leaving the android perplexed in the wake of its failed attempts.
Within inches of the colossal android, Suzaku seized it and hurled it into the air. Turning to face the airborne android, she brought her arms together, unleashing an immense torrent of white fmes toward it.
"You're going that far?" Zhuque expressed concern for her inheritor.
However, Suzaku pressed on, the fmes engulfing everything in their path—the sky, the android, and even extending into space. The spectacle reached a breathtaking crescendo, signaling its culmination with a dazzling explosion that caught the attention of everyone on the pnet.
Once she confirmed the android's destruction, Suzaku nded back on the ground and walked back to Zhuque and crified, "I held back so I wouldn't melt the rest of the pnet. I simply wanted to destroy that android before it caused more harm around us. That's why I chose to take the attacks head-on and melt them."
As Zhuque began to express her thoughts, a sudden fsh blizzard and icy gust enveloped their surroundings. Both turned their attention in a particur direction only to witness the freezing of most androids. The temperature felt even more bone-chilling than usual.
"You're correct, it's much colder than normal. The impact of what we witnessed has seeped into all of us. Lavinia, much like Aaron, holds her newfound family above all else, prioritizing their well-being," expined Suzaku.
"F-family, but aren't they... you know," Zhuque hesitated, struggling to find the right words.
Suzaku smiled and reassured, "Not by blood, Zhuque. Though their biological ties have been severed, to Lavinia, Aaron, and everyone around her constitute her new family. In time, like many of us, we will establish our own families with him. The current situation profoundly affects her, given that most children here were orphans, much like Lavinia once was."
In the distance, surrounded by her normal Ice Dolls, Lavinia approached a frozen android bearing a striking resembnce to a colossal praying mantis with a bee's stinger. Despite its valiant attempts to break free from the icy clutches, the relentless blizzard thwarted any escape.
Observing the struggling android, Lavinia admonished, "Unnecessary harm begets unnecessary suffering." Gazing up at the frozen entity, she couldn't help but empathize with its predicament. Simir to Aoife, she yearned to understand Enor's motives, the path that led her to this existence.
However, the android remained mute, its only directive etched in its synthetic brain—the elimination of Lavinia. Exhaling a sigh, Lavinia shook her head, abandoning the futile attempt at communication. She turned on her heels and walked away, heading towards Suzaku. With a snap of her fingers, the icy prisons of the androids around her shattered, abruptly concluding their battles.
As Lavinia approached Suzaku, she warmly enveloped her in a hug, eliciting a soft chuckle from her companion. "Where's Aaron? Should we go to him now?" Lavinia inquired, still holding onto Suzaku.
Aoife joined the pair and pointed in a certain direction. "I think he's over there. It seems oddly hollow, like there used to be a ke in that spot."
"Let's head towards him then. Perhaps we can get some answers from that woman he brought with him," Suzaku suggested.
Aoife, who was still looking in the direction, added, "Oh, I used our rings on her earlier! She goes by Dixie, and it appears she's human, but with a plethora of enchantments through metallic parts. So, she's sort of a hybrid—human and...android, maybe?" Aoife expined, a hint of confusion in her tone.
"Dixie... alright then, let's go and join Aaron," Suzaku responded. However, just as they prepared to move, a sudden teleportation sensation gripped them, prompting Lavinia to command her Ice Dolls to unch an immediate attack. The ensuing explosion of ice revealed an unexpected visitor.
"Well, aren't you guys a bundle of joy. We received a distress signal a minute ago, but I didn't anticipate things escating to this level," remarked a male voice.
The source of the voice materialized before them—a young boy with an old man's resonance. His short bck hair framed a face with piercing green eyes, the left slightly darker than the right. Dressed in a white shirt, short bck pants, and long bck boots, he sported purple gloves and a billowing cape that dwarfed his frame. Hovering behind him was a colossal suitcase emitting an eerie energy. The unexpected arrival left the group genuinely surprised.
"Call me BF88JA, because Mother created me, after all," he announced with a formal bow. "You really obliterated those androids, huh? Well, it doesn't matter since they're disposable and can be mass-produced. With that said, I will defeat all of you and bring you back to Mother. She needs more living beings for her experiments."
The unexpected procmation left Lavinia, Suzaku, Zhuque, and Aoife with furrowed brows. Before they could fully process his words, appendages made of darkness emerged from the ominous suitcase behind BF88JA, hurtling toward them.
Lavinia swiftly attempted to freeze the dark tendrils with her blizzard, but their icy imprisonment proved fleeting. The darkness shattered the encasing ice, persisting in its trajectory. It became evident that BF88JA possessed multiple functions within his attire, repelling ice, and perhaps elements in general, rendering him impervious to Lavinia's usual tactics.
BF88JA snapped his fingers, summoning millions of purple magic circles around them, each releasing spells and attacks comprised of darkness. A smug satisfaction painted his expression, convinced he had secured victory. However, Aoife had other pns.
With an unexpected surge of energy, Aoife effortlessly destroyed the incoming onsught of attacks, leaving BF88JA visibly surprised. Seizing the opportunity, Aoife charged at him, attempting to thrust her sword forward.
A colossal hand made of darkness interceded, attempting to block her strike. Undeterred, Aoife enveloped her sword in light and holy energy, applying more force. With a burst of power, she shattered the dark hand and pierced BF88JA's shoulder, prompting a pained groan.
Faced with an unexpected turn of events, panic fshed across BF88JA's face. He repelled Aoife with an unseen force, creating distance between them. His gaze now held a mix of confusion and wariness, recognizing Aoife as a formidable enemy with powers capable of bypassing his defenses. She had quickly become his top priority for elimination.
"Go," Aoife directed them, determination in her eyes. "I'll handle him. Join Aaron; there might be others attempting to rescue that woman."
"Alright, good luck," Suzaku responded, and in an instant, they vanished from the scene.
Aoife raised her sword, pointing it at BF88JA. "Why do you follow her orders when you know it's wrong?"
BF88JA chuckled in response. "There's no right and wrong in our universe. There is only fact—and the fact of reality is that the strong rule over the weak. With power, you can have a sembnce of freedom in your life; without it, you'll be dead before long." The cold certainty in his words hung in the air as Aoife prepared to face this strange child.
"I, too, was once a ruler," BF88JA divulged. "However, after Lady Enor defeated me, I became her devoted servant. Working as a direct subordinate came with numerous benefits. She even enchanted my body through her experiments, for which I am genuinely grateful—it significantly extended my lifespan."
With a snap of his fingers, BF88JA conjured magic circles beside him, and from them emerged two colossal masses of darkness in the form of animals. Emitting eerie howls, the creatures surged towards Aoife.
Harnessing her light and holy powers, Aoife once again imbued her bde with their radiant energy and swiftly advanced to meet the dark entities. In a single, precise swing, she cleaved through the creatures, dispelling them with ease. Though not a master of light and holy powers, Aoife's basic applications proved highly effective against both BF88JA and his summoned minions.
"This pce," BF88JA began, a tinge of nostalgia in his voice, "was once a pnet of the weak. I witnessed the war that unfolded, only to discover that Lady Enor was the orchestrator. The irony of this seemingly unremarkable pnet being the epicenter of conflict amused me. However, she had her reasons for seizing control."
He continued, revealing the hidden secret of the pnet. "It possessed a unique resource—an underground well with water capable of extending one's life for at least 500,000 years. Lady Enor sought this fountain of life, only to discover that the pnet's leader was already using it in measured doses, slowly prolonging his existence. Undeterred, she devised a pn, initiating a war to cim ownership of that invaluable well," BF88JA expined with a wry grin, ascending into the sky, leaving behind the weight of history and conflict.
"People crave longevity, you know? The ability to witness the future, embrace technological advancements, and, naturally, wield that extended life to amass power and influence—why wouldn't one desire that?" BF88JA inquired, his ughter echoing.
Aoife, filled with fury, retorted, "So she sacrificed millions of lives just for some stupid water!?"
With a sinister grin, BF88JA continued his revetion, "She still uses that water to this day, you know? Lady Enor has practically achieved immortality, transporting the well to her own pnet, where she predominantly resides. She generously bestows it upon those she deems worthy among her subordinates and even employs it in her experiments. Truly, she is a genius," he decred with a disturbing sense of admiration.
Aoife's anger reached its zenith as she propelled herself toward BF88JA, who summoned more magic circles, releasing a relentless barrage of attacks. With skillful precision, Aoife deftly sliced through the onsught, effortlessly closing the distance to confront BF88JA. Amidst the chaos, a massive hand of darkness hurtled towards her, prompting Aoife to replicate her earlier move, halting and obliterating the dark appendage.
Swiftly closing the gap, Aoife appeared behind BF88JA, sheathing her bde. "Lives aren't disposable; each one is precious. Those who see otherwise are worse than scum," she decred with unyielding conviction.
In response, BF88JA bore the brunt of millions of sshes, colpsing to the ground, seemingly defeated. As Aoife nded before him, she extended an offer, "But you can still change! Stop being an idiot and take my hand!"
However, what emanated from BF88JA was not a change of heart but rather ughter, leaving Aoife bewildered. "I get it... you're one of those fools who believe people can change. Let me tell you a secret—not everyone wants to change. Some of us just want to rule everything, you na?ve child. You should have killed me when you had the chance," he decred with a chilling certainty.
A colossal burst of energy erupted from BF88JA, sending Aoife tumbling backward. "Dammit," she muttered, lifting an arm to shield herself from the debris. Doubt crept into her mind as she pondered, "I messed up... is what Azathoth said true...? Are some people just beyond saving...? Is what you said earlier also true, Aaron...?" The air hung heavy with uncertainty as Aoife grappled with the harsh reality of the choices before her.
Following the surge of energy from BF88JA, he emerged transformed. Standing at an imposing 13 feet tall, his once humanoid form now bore a distinct robotic essence. His left arm had morphed into a menacing machine gun, while his right continued generating rge energy orbs. Instead of eyes, his face featured glowing circur dots, devoid of a mouth or nose. Behind his head, ominous purple spikes protruded, accompanied by a giant wheel.
A voluminous robe draped part of his metallic frame, concealing most of his back, while the remainder of his form consisted of gleaming purple-tinged mechanical appendages. The aura surrounding BF88JA had shifted, signaling a strange evolution that demanded a recalibration of strategy from Aoife. The battlefield was now dominated by the looming presence of this mechanized juggernaut.
BF88JA's glowing "eyes" intensified as he unleashed a barrage of bullets, a deadly blend of purple energy and darkness, from his transformed machine gun arm. Aoife, quick on her feet, opted to evade the relentless onsught. However, she was not one to retreat indefinitely. Swiftly adapting, Aoife changed her strategy, deflecting some of the projectiles with well-timed strikes of her sword.
Determined not to be on the defensive for long, Aoife maniputed her light and holy energy, once again shrouding her sword. Empowered, she dashed towards BF88JA. In response, he raised his normal hand, summoning colossal balls of purple energy. Undaunted, Aoife seamlessly sliced through the formidable orbs.
"This is still not enough, huh? Then how about this?" mumbled BF88JA as the ominous wheel behind him started spinning. He aimed his machine gun at Aoife, unleashing a torrent of millions of shots in a single devastating attack. Instantly, Aoife jumped away, but to her surprise, the bullets changed directions mid-flight, relentlessly pursuing her.
Forced into a defensive stance, Aoife wielded her sword skillfully to repel the relentless assault. However, the situation escated as BF88JA concurrently unched giant balls of purple energy at her. Overwhelmed by the dual onsught, Aoife, recognizing the need for a more potent response, tapped into her deeper well of powers, transcending the reliance on her sword alone.
In a dazzling dispy of power, millions of ghostly and icy swords materialized behind Aoife. With precision, she unleashed this formidable arsenal, directing the spectral bdes toward the onsught of bullets and purple energy shots. The csh resulted in a spectacur explosion, creating a smokescreen that served as her cover.
Seizing the opportunity, Aoife repositioned herself behind BF88JA, her sword poised for a decisive strike aimed at the ominous wheel behind him, a source of his heightened powers.
To her astonishment, BF88JA abruptly vanished and reappeared at a considerable distance. With a swift motion, he swung his hand upwards, releasing thousands of purple energy sshes.
Simultaneously, floating turrets materialized around Aoife, each unleashing a barrage of bullets in her direction. Caught in this multi-pronged assault, Aoife faced the daunting challenge of evading both the relentless energy sshes and the hail of bullets, showcasing her need to adapt swiftly in the heat of battle.
In a moment of heightened awareness, Aoife's eyes widened as the onsught of energy sshes and bullets bore down on her. Time seemed to slow, and within that temporal reprieve, she found a solution.
With nimble movements, Aoife danced gracefully through the approaching energy sshes, cleverly redirecting some to intercept the oncoming barrage of bullets. Simultaneously, she conjured ghostly and icy arms around her, each wielding its own ethereal sword. These spectral appendages expertly intercepted and sliced apart the bullets, effectively repelling the formidable assault unleashed by BF88JA.
The battle persisted, with Aoife's relentless onsught showing no signs of abating. She directed invisible aura sshes at the turrets, effectively dismantling them. Swiftly returning her focus to BF88JA, Aoife stunned him with her dispy of skill and precision.
Before BF88JA could fully grasp the situation, Aoife closed in, slicing off his left arm along with the menacing machine gun it bore. In a swift and seamless motion, she delivered a knee strike that sent him hurtling towards the spaceship Dixie had nded on, destroying it.
As Aoife ascended into the sky, her form seemingly merging with the moon of the pnet, BF88JA looked up in awe. Her red eyes glowed, and with graceful descent, she unleashed a devastating move—a cross-shaped attack infused with a blend of light, holy, ice, and ghostly energy.
The attack carved through BF88JA's body, leaving behind an unmistakable X shape. The battlefield fell silent, the echoes of the csh reverberating through the stillness as Aoife stood victorious over her mechanized enemy.
As Aoife stood over the subdued BF88JA, she observed his futile attempts to retaliate. Utilizing her mastery over ice, infused with holy and light energy, she effectively nullified his powers. With an air of curiosity, she posed a question to the defeated enemy, "Why? Why do you want to destroy and rule everything?"
In response, BF88JA offered a contemptive perspective, "Because that's the only way I—we have known to survive. Tell me, if you take a fish out of water and instruct it to breathe air, do you think it would adapt without any problems?" The metaphor carried a weight of resignation, hinting at a life shaped by circumstances and survival instincts, leaving Aoife to ponder the complex motivations that led him down this path of conquest.
Aoife remained silent, grappling with the weight of BF88JA's words.
"...See? You don't have an answer. No matter how hard you try and change people—unless they want to change themselves, it won't work. This is the only way I've known how to live all my life. I won't change, and I can guarantee you that many others will feel the same way as me. Give up, you self-righteous witch," BF88JA decred, his words carrying a mix of defiance and resignation.
The battlefield lingered in an uneasy stillness, the csh of ideologies leaving an indelible mark on the air. As Aoife contempted the complex nature of change and the choices individuals make, BF88JA's stark refusal to yield hinted at the deep-seated convictions that shaped his existence.
"Kill me," BF88JA urged Aoife, his voice carrying a somber acceptance. "If you don't, I will simply do it when the time comes, lying to you if you capture me."
Aoife hesitated, her lips quivering as she grappled with the weight of the decision before her. However, before she could respond, a familiar presence appeared. Azathoth, the former ruler of the omniverse, appeared, calmly walking over and pcing her foot on BF88JA's head. With a steady gaze fixed on Aoife, she proceeded to crush his head, bringing an end to BF88JA's life.
"Why did you—"
"He will not change, Aoife Murphy. No matter how hard you try, no matter what method you use—he will not change. Unless you ask Aaron to 'change' him like Avezza and Satanael, he will remain the same, no matter what timeline you go to," Azathoth revealed with a tone of finality.
"Today, it seems Aaron finally accepted that. He seemed to have accepted it previously but also held some hope that they would change with enough push from him. However, after what he witnessed today, he made up his mind that some people are better off dead than to be rehabilitated. You will soon meet more instances of this during your journey in this universe. Whether you accept it now or ter, it will happen," expined Azathoth with a matter-of-fact tone as she turned around. "I will go and join Aaron. I wish to know his decision for that woman," she announced before vanishing.
Aoife bit her lip in frustration. Despite her considerable time spent alive, including her tenure in Aaron's Training Facility, her contributions to various operations, and her participation in the World Tournament Rating Games, she had always tried to avoid taking lives if possible. In many instances, it was her teammates who carried out such actions.
While she had no qualms about destroying machines or dispatching humanoid monsters, the prospect of ending the existence of someone or something that closely resembled a human, or an entity that was once human, weighed heavily on her conscience.
"...I'm a failure," Aoife mumbled to herself, her grip on the sword tightening. "I haven't changed one bit since then, but Aaron has…"
A vivid memory from her previous life flooded her mind as she sprinted toward the direction Suzaku's group had gone. The image Aaron had painted of her as an invincible, happy person felt starkly different from Aoife's own perception. In reality, she was just like any other person her age at that time—brimming with concerns about the future and haunted by self-doubt.
"I want to change... dammit...!" Aoife excimed with a profound sadness, hastily wiping away the tears that had welled up in her eyes.
— ○ ● ○ —
Upon reaching a specific location, Aoife witnessed a fierce confrontation involving Suzaku, Lavinia, and Zhuque. At the epicenter of the crater or ke, Aaron sat at a table with a visibly nervous woman named Dixie, engaged in what seemed to be a meaningful conversation.
Perched on the crater's rim was Azathoth, who, upon a brief turn, signaled Aoife to join her. As Aoife approached, curiosity etched across her face, she inquired, "What is happening here? Are these additional forces?"
Azathoth expined, "They're akin to the enemy you encountered earlier—humans that were merged with advanced robotic enhancements. It grants them an edge while simultaneously limiting their potential in traditional ways. It's as if Enor drew inspiration from the Mechanical Evie Gods."
Aoife's jaw dropped, her eyes widening in astonishment as she absorbed Azathoth's revetion. The unexpected twist left her momentarily speechless.
"W-w-wait, do you mean...!?" Aoife stammered, seeking confirmation, and Azathoth solemnly nodded in response.
"They influenced each other. The Phantasma and Phumera's organization are delving deeper into technology, equipping themselves with advanced enhancements. Meanwhile, the Evie embrace the organic and natural, exploring ways to amplify their powers not just through sophisticated upgrades but also something else, courtesy of Phumera," Azathoth elucidated.
"Then our battle over there will become even more challenging!" Aoife excimed, a hint of frustration evident. "Can't we find a way to put a halt to their advancements?"
As the battles raged on around them, Azathoth cast a gnce at Aoife, her eyes reflecting a knowing depth. "Do you not have faith in Aaron? Do you believe he has yet to make a move?" she inquired.
"H-huh?" responded Aoife, a tad perplexed.
"After his evolution, he has orchestrated numerous changes, subtly shaping the course of events for the future. That's why he remains unperturbed, not rushing into anything. In his own words, everything will fall into pce," Azathoth expined, a rare smile gracing her lips. "You could say, everything is unfolding according to his meticulously crafted pn."
While Aoife was aware of Aaron's transformative influence, the extent of his impact on the multiverse, and perhaps even the omniverse, remained a mystery to her. She specuted that Aaron had maniputed circumstances to ease the lives of those in the various universes. Yet, she understood that alterations to past events were off-limits, as that would create a different reality for people.
In this Draconic Deus they inhabited, distinct from the one she read about in her original world, Aoife acknowledged the need to learn from individuals she encountered or directly from Aaron himself.
"Can you provide me with an example, please?" Aoife inquired, seeking a tangible illustration of the changes Aaron had wrought.
A subtle smile pyed on Azathoth's lips once more as she shared, "The technology, minerals, and items crafted by the Phantasma for their weaponry and armor, among other things, are now of a lower grade than what they initially discovered and utilized. This signifies that Aaron, with his influence on the past, strategically avoided making significant alterations to the future. Simirly, the Evie's course of research into enhancing their powers through organic means has been subtly guided, leading them to choose a less-than-ideal method."
"B-but I thought he said he wouldn't change the past?" Aoife questioned, a touch of confusion in her voice.
"In a way, he already has," Azathoth responded. "He altered certain individuals' memories who were once part of the Khaos Order. For instance, Satanael retains certain memories of our current reality, while others were modified. The rest of the members now believe he's delusional for ciming Aaron's strength surpasses that of Lapis or Daniel. This wasn't exclusive to Satanael; random members faced simir memory alterations, leading to internal divisions and organizational disarray. That's why their operations became so disorganized post-Aaron's evolution."
Azathoth pressed on, saying, "This, of course, no longer applies to Satanael, as Aaron has reshaped him into the Satanael we recognize today. There are more intricacies tied to the Phantasma's universe, the Evie's, and even in Fadir Fedora. It will become clearer as we progress to those points in time."
Aoife psed into contemptive silence, grappling with the weight of Azathoth's revetions. Her gaze shifted towards Aaron, still engrossed in conversation with Dixie in the midst of the crater. The question lingered in her mind—was the Aaron she now knew the same person as the Aaron from before her death? His alternating behaviors stirred confusion within her, yet she chose to defer contemption, resisting the urge to delve too deeply into the enigma surrounding him.
"If you're concerned about whether this is the same Aaron you knew, let me assure you that he is. I've shown you glimpses of his journey before he revived both of us. The position he pced himself in, the role I intended for him, and the trials he confronted gradually molded him—especially today, leaving a profound impact," Azathoth elucidated.
"Whether you welcome or resist change, Aoife Murphy, is a personal choice. People evolve, and whether you perceive that transformation as positive or negative is subjective. Many see Aaron's maturation from his initial appearance in the Draconic Deus as a good sign. While he retains his humor and occasional flippancy, he now approaches many matters with a greater sense of seriousness. Personally, I find it commendable," Azathoth added.
Continuing her thoughtful expnation, Azathoth went on, "Someday, you'll undergo a simir transformation, or perhaps it has already begun to take root within you today. How will you navigate it? Will you persist in your mission to save everyone and everything, even when faced with the harsh reality that not everyone, not every being, is inclined to change? And if so, are you prepared to make decisions that may necessitate the end of lives?"
"Aaron arrived at these conclusions based on the myriad experiences within that one-year span and the unfolding events of the current year. Now, it's your chance. I acknowledge that you passed away at a young age, and your perspective may still carry a hint of naivety. However, your age is precisely when one begins to mature, undergoing experiences that sculpt character. If genuine change and growth are what you seek, be receptive to the world unfolding around you. If you truly desire, seek Aaron's counsel," Azathoth imparted before striding purposefully towards Aaron, leaving Aoife to contempte in solitude.
In the distance, Suzaku found herself confronted by another reinforcement, accompanied by BF88JA. This new enemy bore the designation KJ9378L, a young girl adorned with various enchantments.
With short blue hair fashioned into ball buns, piercing red eyes, and dressed in a bck uniform paired with blue tights and open-toed bck heels, she exuded an air of formidable power. Her weapons, resembling extended cws, were fastened to her wrists.
Silently, KJ9378L swung her lethal cws towards Suzaku, attempting to inflict harm. However, each calcuted strike missed its mark. Despite Suzaku's earnest attempts to engage in dialogue and dissuade the young girl, it became evident that KJ9378L remained unresponsive. In Suzaku's eyes, she appeared entranced, lost in a state that rendered her impervious to reason.
Despite Suzaku's efforts to discern any spells or techniques influencing the girl's behavior, her investigation yielded no evidence of external manipution. Suzaku, in her discerning wisdom, arrived at a disheartening conclusion: the young girl, KJ9378L, had been "adopted" by Enor at a young age and gradually subjected to a natural form of brainwashing. No external techniques, abilities, or spells were involved; it was an organic transformation.
The weight of this revetion bore heavily on Suzaku, knowing that dispelling such deep-rooted conditioning wasn't a simple task. Coupled with the constraints of her limited time frame, she harbored doubts about her ability to effect any meaningful change. The thought of seeking Aaron's intervention crossed her mind, but even then, the prospect felt peculiar and uncertain.
[Abandon any notion of saving her, Suzaku,] Zhuque's voice echoing through their transceivers, suggested a more pragmatic approach. [We can't save everyone, Suzaku. Put that girl out of her misery quickly.]
Suzaku, though initially frowning, quietly acquiesced to the grim advice. When KJ9378L swung her right cw once again, Suzaku swiftly caught it and set it abze. To her surprise, KJ9378L showed no reaction and continued to advance, swinging her other cw menacingly.
Questions raced through Suzaku's mind. 'Is she immune to fire? Perhaps immune to elemental attacks in general?' With a thoughtful pause, Suzaku released KJ9378L's hand and cautiously floated back.
Undeterred, KJ9378L examined her bzing cw, then replicated the fiery dispy on her other limb. A sinister readiness enveloped her as she prepared to unleash the fmes against Suzaku—or so she believed.
Without hesitation, Suzaku altered the fmes engulfing KJ9378L, transforming their hues from the typical fire color to an intense white. The searing fmes swiftly consumed KJ9378L's cws, prompting a widening of her eyes in astonishment.
However, undeterred by the unexpected turn of events, KJ9378L pressed on, flying towards Suzaku with determined resolve. Ignoring the loss of her fiery cws, she unched a straight punch at Suzaku. Yet, Suzaku, drawing on her extensive experience in various martial arts, effortlessly redirected the punch and, with practiced precision, flung KJ9378L to the ground. The impact resonated with a crash, creating a small crater at the point of impact.
KJ9378L gazed upwards, her eyes widening as she beheld azure fmes raining down upon her. She leapt aside, narrowly evading the onsught. The ground beneath her crumbled, consumed by the inferno. Turning towards Suzaku Himejima, she wore a baffled expression. The fmes she'd maniputed had always burned with an unwavering crimson hue, but now, they were as blue as the midday sky.
KJ9378L swiftly summoned a new pair of cws, courtesy of the technology Enor had provided. However, this resource was limited; she could only repce her lost weapons twice more, as her body could accommodate only a finite number of such enhancements.
She steeled herself to confront Suzaku once again, only to be taken aback when she looked back at the woman. Suzaku had vanished. Perplexed, KJ9378L scanned her surroundings, but there was no trace of her adversary. Then, without warning, she felt a powerful blow connect with her abdomen, sending her hurtling away.
"Why can't I copy those fmes?" KJ9378L questioned with sincere bewilderment.
Suzaku reappeared, her reply den with regret. "I allowed you to believe you could earlier, but in truth, it wasn't possible. I apologize," she confessed, and in a moment's time, her fming fist struck KJ9378L's face, sending her tumbling to the ground.
Towering over the half-defeated KJ9378L, Suzaku inquired, "Would you consider surrendering?"
An unyielding defiance smoldered in KJ9378L's response. "No. Everything is for Lady Enor; my life holds no significance. Her wish is my own will, my life, and I will see it through," she decred with unwavering resolve, even in the shadow of apparent defeat.
Suzaku prepared to strike, but KJ9378L's body crackled with electricity, forcing her to jump back. As the electrically charged KJ9378L stood back up, her body continued to discharge a massive amount of electricity, her previously cwed hands now shrouded in the same electrical aura as she dashed toward Suzaku.
KJ9378L's eyes had turned completely white, indicating her berserker state, a st resort as she drew upon all her power in an attempt to defeat the enemy before her. Designed as an assassin, KJ9378L was now forced to engage in open combat rather than rely on her typical method of fighting due to the current circumstances.
KJ9378L lunged forward, her left cw darting towards Suzaku with blinding speed. Yet, Suzaku remained unfazed, her body enveloped in a protective sheath of touki as she effortlessly deflected the incoming strike.
Undeterred, KJ9378L continued her relentless assault, unleashing a barrage of attacks, even long-range electric strikes, but to no avail. Suzaku's reflexes proved unmatchable, her touki-imbued form a formidable barrier against every blow.
Suddenly, KJ9378L ground her foot into the earth, summoning a storm of electric spears that materialized around Suzaku Himejima. With a feral growl, she unched the spears at her opponent, but Suzaku was quick to react. Her body engulfed in a raging inferno that manifested fiery hands that snatched the spears from the air and incinerated them in a fsh.
In response, Suzaku appeared beside KJ9378L in an instant, her leg striking with lightning-like precision and sending her reeling. Before KJ9378L could recover, Suzaku conjured a bow and arrow of pure fme and loosed the arrow with unerring aim. The fming projectile pierced KJ9378L's chest, sending her to the ground with a strangled gasp.
Suzaku began to walk away as the entire region behind her was consumed by a colossal, fiery column. Amidst the fmes, KJ9378L met her end. Shaking her head, Suzaku soared towards where Zhuque was engaged in her own battle.
This time, they faced two android birds, each roughly the size of an average aircraft, measuring around 40 meters or 130 feet. Both boasted "energy" wings, which continuously fired off energy shots at Zhuque. However, the Sacred Beast remained undeterred, hovering in pce and allowing the shots to strike and pass through her, as they had no effect on her.
"Why haven't you taken them down yet?" Suzaku asked as she joined Zhuque's side.
"I'm contempting whether to simply defeat them and hand them over to Aaron since they might prove useful," replied Zhuque.
Suzaku turned to confront the android birds, their attacks directed at her and Zhuque. "They're not exactly impressive. They're a far cry from Aaron and Vali's wyverns. I say we get rid of them," she decred.
Zhuque let out a resigned sigh and nodded in agreement. "You're right. Let's make this quick." With that, both women vanished and reappeared beside each android bird.
Zhuque announced, "You're just cheap imitations. It's time for you to perish!" She seized the android bird's head, instantly reducing it to ashes along with the rest of its body.
Suzaku chose a different approach. She covered her right hand in white fmes, slicing off the android bird's wings with ease. She then stored the wings within her ring. Finally, she finished the panicking android by incinerating it, leaving no trace behind.
Both Zhuque and Suzaku turned to Lavinia, witnessing the Ice Queen's victory as she approached Aaron. They observed that Lavinia's foe, a towering bear-like android donning a maid's uniform, had been immobilized by Myudo, summoned by Lavinia in her Bance Breaker state.
Exchanging nods, the two nded gracefully on the ground, making their way towards Aaron. They noticed that Azathoth was already present, eavesdropping on their conversation, while Aoife stood still in her spot, left to contempte in solitude by Azathoth.
As they arrived beside Aaron, they noticed the woman named Dixie, her body trembling uncontrolbly. She sat on her chair, soaked in her own urine, tears streaming down her face. The sheer terror that gripped her was evident, as she struggled to maintain her composure.
<
"A-a-a-a-as I said, I don't know any specifics. I-I-I-I'm just a lowly soldier that does the normal everyday work for Lady Eleanor! S-s-s-she defeated my small group that fled from Lady Phumera and forced us to work for her! W-w-w-we only received orders from her not too long ago about cleaning up this p-p-p-pnet and activating its st protocol!" Dixie stuttered, her voice filled with horror.
<
"...O-o-only a few others, the other one that's the same level of authority as me is called Censor, he's probably in the other side of the pnet! T-t-that's all! W-w-well, there are more of those android children with him, but apart from that, that's all!" Dixie excimed in desperation.
<
Dixie remained silent, her gaze fixed on the ground. She reached into a different space and presented a folded piece of paper to Aaron. As he unfolded and read it, a heaviness settled over him. Once he'd finished reading, he sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He handed the paper to Lavinia, who was standing beside him, and she read it alongside Suzaku and Zhuque.
<
He silently looked at Dixie, trapping her in a bubble and making her float beside him. <
The strategy devised was to trigger a particur contraption Enor had left on the pnet, situated one level beneath the basement. This apparatus was designed to harvest the souls of every living entity on the pnet, eradicating them while conjoining them with the pnet itself.
A new, devastating entity would then be born, journeying through the cosmos, ruthlessly annihiting all that y in its path.
This scheme, however, left Aaron and the rest of the group in a despondent mood as they converged with Aoife, who remained resolutely in her position.
Upon reading the note from Lavinia, Aoife was overwhelmed with an intense sensation of despair, coupled with what she conjectured to be the sentiment of hatred directed towards an individual.
As their journey progressed, a growing, palpable animosity towards Enor began to fester within each of them.
— ○ ● ○ —