Arc 2 | Chapter 39: What is a Personality, Anyways?

⸂Shouldn’t have—⸃

⸂She’ll— fine.⸃

⸂—she will.⸃

That one sounded—felt?—sarcastic. Emilia cracked an eye open. Somewhere new. Somewhere old. The world felt old—should the world feel old?

⸂Can’t undo— stuck with— back?⸃

Everything felt so far away, but at least she was alive? Her core felt… fine. Overused and burning, yes, but fine overall. That was good. Just as vaguely broken as before, even in the digital world.

⸂No choice. We should—⸃

Silence. Emilia could feel the flecks of sound—of movement—in the aether. She leaned into the boy, his arms wrapped tightly around her, keeping her from falling flat on her face. A hand dragged soothingly over her bare arm, having slipped under her cloak to get a better grasp of her—or feel her up. She’d been in and out of it for the last however many minutes. Hours? Time was pretty damn meaningless in this world of perpetual dark and light.

⸂Risen Guard.⸃

The first solid words she’d felt. Whatever that heartstone had been had, at the very least it had given her the ability to hear the locals. Awesome, except under the circumstances of nausea and headache and her core trying to burn itself out of existence, she would have preferred everyone shut up, their voices rubbing against her everything and—

Someone hissed to be quiet, not words—ripples of emotion across the aethernet that seemed to fitter out of existence as they echoed away from them.

The tall man stepped forward silently, movements slow and careful as he put himself between them and the only doorway to wherever they’d taken her. Still somewhere in the cavern layers, definitely. Stone walls and stalactites hanging above them, looking so out of place in a world of dullness. Did they never fall? Never break into weapons that could shatter the rules of this world?

⸂Come out,⸃ the man called into the darkness.

Silence.

The drip, drip, swish of water, flowing somewhere nearby.

Then, her guard stepped out, expression darkly bland. ⸄That girl belongs to me,⸅ he said, eyes shifting to her as she tried to straighten herself up, her legs giving out under her.

The boy’s arms tightened around her, holding her up and tucking her further into him. ⸂The Risen Guards are not— us.⸃

Emilia blinked into the boy’s chest, unsure if it was her grasp of the weird, core talking language that was fucked up or if she was fighting against passing out. Probably a bit of both.

She tilted her head towards her babysitter, her breath catching as a flood of

danger

ripped through her. This wasn’t good. They needed to leave, get away from him. There was something about him now, something dangerous and feral that hadn’t been there before. Something that screamed for her to run, get away—get these poor locals, who weren’t a part of this, to safety.

She pushed up, willing her legs to hold her weight and cursing when the buckled again. The boy barely noticed, his slim body stronger than she would have thought.

Her guard’s eyes shifted away from the man, flickering between the two girls. ⸂You are trainees,⸃ he said, matter-of-factly, confirming her suspicion that they could only communicate with her due to a connection to the Risen Guard. ⸄Bring her to me.⸅

The girls tensed, even the bored looking girl appearing suddenly uncomfortable. Their eyes flickered to her—no, to the boy. Looking to him for advice? An order?

⸂They will do no such thing,⸃ he replied for them, barely sparing the girls a glance, his eyes locked onto the guard. He had a nice voice, even through the scratchy, aggravated noise of her core’s overstimulation.

⸄The girl is coming with me.⸅

⸂No.⸃

⸂I don’t think she wants to go with you, mate.⸃ The tall man glanced back at them, smile challenging in a way Emilia didn’t like. Not because she thought he meant anything bad towards her—not now—but because she had seen that smile before. Had seen it when people went on suicide missions, intent to save their friends at the cost of their own life or core.

Was this situation that bad? Bad enough that then weren’t even considering giving her back to save themselves? Bad enough that even if they did, they felt their lives were in danger? Or was it dangerous for her to go with him? She’d heard rumours of platforms where visitors were used as sacrifices, but most of those were blackaether, off the grid and for people who liked a challenge—liked the thrill of being hunted and having no one hold them responsible for their own mayhem. That shouldn’t happen inside this raid, bound by rules and laws and—

[Rule 4: Anything goes]

They’d agreed to that, thinking it was for them alone—as was standard in anything goes raids. Heroes could do anything, but the platform would still be normal—still be safe. It didn’t have to be. It didn’t have to be safe or normal, and they had signed away their right to complain about it.

They had signed away their right to complain about anything. Everything she’d seen since arriving here could be real, or it could have been planted by the platform maintainers. Evidence of former visitors when there could very well have been none. Her guard had said they knew about visitors, that there had been many in the past but—

But nothing could be trusted here.

Her guard lunged for the taller man as he turned back towards him, smile fading as he swerved, dodging the fist aimed at his face.

⸂Sk’lar!⸃ the sterner of the girls yelled, trying to bolt towards him but held back by the other girl. ⸂Rin! Let go!⸃ she growled, trying to pull away from the smaller girl.

Heat blasted through the air, aether vibrating out of Rin and slamming into Emilia’s escort. He gritted his teeth, a spark of his own fire erupting towards the girls. Too slow, Sk’lar was already between them, erecting a barrier of shadows that ate the fire.

The shadow burped, the sound echoing around them until Emilia was sure her other eardrum was going to burst and— Nope, just her already injured one bursting again and—

Emilia scooped up the blood sliding out of her ear, unsure if her hunch about how blood worked in this world was correct, but willing to take a chance. She gathered as much energy as she could muster and flung the droplets at her guard, who was distracted trying to cover his own ears, unlike the others, who seemed to have erected sound barriers around their own ears.

The man screamed as blood splattered over her cheek, burning holes through that too perfect visage, and he turned on them. ⸄I knew you were trouble,⸅ he hissed, lunging towards her and the boy still holding her up.

In the corner of her eye, she could see the other three preparing to defend them. They wouldn’t make it. The guard was too close, and they were too far. The boy’s hands tightened around her, moved to pull her behind him. She let him, using the momentum of his push to spin fully around him.

Her escort hadn’t been expecting her to come back—had expected her to cower behind the boy, leave him to take the violence that was aimed at her. His eyes widened as she swung back around, her legs giving out under her and sending her crashing to the ground. It was clumsy, but when she swiped up, her {Blood Blade} ringing through the air and crashing into his stomach, he wasn’t prepared. The metal of his armour melted apart, her blade sliding into his intestines before he was shooting backwards, barely saving himself from another heat skill.

A growl of rage vibrated through the aether, shocking Emilia’s core, even as she watched with fascination as the man’s blood shuddered across the mess of the floor.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

He was still dripping, still bleeding in a world where blood was forbidden.

He did not look happy about it.

⸂Rin! Collect it!⸃

⸂What!? You can’t be serious!⸃ the stern girl yelled back at the boy, eyes wide as they shifted between him and Emilia. ⸂Rin?⸃ Her voice wobbled as she stared at the other girl, already summoning a skill to collect the blood.

It rippled and pulled together and the man surging backwards in an attempt to get out of range of the skill, sucking blood straight out of him. The blood across her blade vibrated, and her core vibrated with it. Red pulled towards her, calling to her, singing to her—willing her to use it.

Her fingers ran through the blood. His blood didn’t burn her, the way hers had him. It tingled. It called to her. It swirled and she told it no. It would not turn into a tidal wave of destruction. There were people here who she didn’t want to die.

The blood bubbled back at her. Another bubble, floating up into the air and popping across the aether, leaving tiny lines of death in it before they sealed themselves up.

Just like before.

“That will do,” she said quietly to the blood, watching with wide eyes as it listened, as it pulled itself together into a perfect, bloody orb. It landed heavy in her hands, and the guard was already running, trying to retreat the way he had come.

He wasn’t fast enough.

Bubbles exploded out of the {Blood Orb}, erratic, and the others slammed themselves to the ground. The boy was already behind her, his hands keeping her from toppling over yet again, dragging up her arms until they were resting over her own. Bubbles splashed over his hands, burning the skin, and she tried to shake him off—tried to control the spray. What was the point of all this if she ended up killing the people who had helped her, somewhat begrudgingly on the part of most of them, but helped no less?

⸂Focus,⸃ he breathed into her—into just her. She didn’t know how she could tell, but she could. ⸂Let me in.⸃

She felt the gentle knock across her core, so similar to the feeling of someone knocking at her Censor, requesting access. Access that she knew she wouldn’t be able to limit, not without the system or her Censor or even the barest of practice controlling what secrets her core gave away. There was just so much inside your core and a million times more outside it, scattered across the world and the aethernet. Censors converted that data, made it understandable and hide what you wanted hidden, spared you from the overwhelm of the aether and the people around you. That’s what students had always been taught, anyways.

At times, Emilia had questioned just how imperative Censors were to core usage. When she’d met people from the Free Colonies, using world-bending skills without even a temporary Censor. When she pressed her own core directly against things and knew what they were even without her Censor interpreting for her. Data straight from the core, however, was raw and personal and letting someone in—

Emilia moaned as the boy entered her, his aether guiding hers to control the {Blood Orb}—no, that wasn’t quite right. He wasn’t guiding her, it was like he was controlling her, and her head lolled back onto his shoulder as he pressed himself through her to the bubbles the orb had created.

They still weren’t perfect, his friends still had to bolt out of the way occasionally, but by the time he had finished, there was a wall of death blocking the entrance to the cave.

⸄You will regret this,⸅ the guard said, eyes dark and so unlike the man she had seen before. That man had been quiet and playful. This man was stern and cold.

They didn’t even feel like the same person—Emilia wasn’t even sure they were. She had always been such a good judge of character. To have missed something so big? To have missed that his entire personality was hidden from her?

Then again, hadn’t she already thought his personality odd and shifting? What was another shift, even if this was much larger than the previous shift from apologetic guard to quiet teacher.

Sk’lar bolted back towards him, some sort of weapon she couldn’t make out crashing through the air. Why couldn’t she make it out? Blurry and black and— Fuck. She was so tired.

⸂Hold on a little longer,⸃ the boy whispered into her. Maybe whispered. He could have been screaming, and she wouldn’t have been able to tell. His face was so close to her damaged ear. Too close. Hopefully, he wouldn’t get blood on his face. She’d already fucked up his hands, she’d hate to fuck up that pretty face too. ⸂Just a little longer and—⸃

The world faded black and Emilia lost the words, trying to hold on a little longer. Her core ached and screamed, willed her to let go of the connection—of the {Blood Orb}’s power.

“So draining,” she mumbled. Trying to peak an eye open to watch what was happening. If she couldn’t hear, how was she supposed to know when to stop?

Her guard lurched to the side, fire sputtering out of his hand as he reached towards Sk’lar. The man barely missed being hit. He wasn’t good enough. For all that he had felt more dangerous than her escort, he was going to lose. He was going to die, and then the girls were going to be left to die as well, their trainee skills likely nothing compared to the Risen Guard’s.

“Him,” she murmured to the blood, willing the bubbles to converge on her murderous, failed babysitter. They shuddered. A few popped. She thought the boy asked what she was doing, but he didn’t get a say in this. No one was dying for her today.

The bubbles surged towards the guard as he prepared to throw another raging flame at Sk’lar’s shadows. He bolted to the side, having noticed the popping and swaying of them. He glared between at the group of locals for a moment, assessing them, a bunch of scared, outmatched children. His eyes landed on her, as she tried to summon another wave of bubbles, her core melting inside her. She was going to kill herself, but better her than them. Her bubbles exploded across the aether, uncontrollable and ripping it apart, and then he was gone, disappearing out the door.

Emilia wobbled, her hands shaking as the {Blood Orb} fell, and the blood bubbles were plucked out of existence. It cracked against the ground, rolling away from her, seemingly without any cracks of its own. Impressive. Her own core felt raw and brutalize, and when the boy’s hands gently guided her back against him, she let him—let her eyes flutter shut.

Let the darkness take her.