Void Guardian 2.9

Approach 2.9

Dinner was… familiar and awkward at the same time. Riley and I were mostly silent, letting Hannah and Amy fill the gap with chatter. Riley occasionally interjected with a goofy one-liner or attempt at levity, while I usually dropped sarcastic or dark rejoinders. It was good, but… I couldn’t help but feel like it was all a pleasant veneer. We didn’t bring up any heavy topics, it was all superficial bullshit, a distraction to the life or death situation we’d be charging into later.

The sky still held a golden glow off to the west, and night was coming on as we exited the restaurant. There was some conversation going on between the girls and Riley, but I was still thinking about the monster.

Could we really manage? It was good that we had a plan, but it was pretty barebones. I watched a cloud drift across the darkening sky, looked off across the parking lot. With some thought… it was a plan, but we were missing a few things. The “plan” was still scary as hell in my head and anything I could do as prep would help.

I elbowed Riley and addressed the girls. “Hey, I had a thought.”

Hannah and Amy turned to me, curious, and I motioned to the superstore at the other end of the parking lot. “Let’s get some lights. The sporting good section should have some cheap glowsticks, and we can use them to cast a bit more light in the darker areas.”

“Sounds good,” Riley says. The girls shrug.

After a brief whirl through the Fishing & Camping aisle, we left for the the same spot as last time, one more person in tow and some mundane supplies in hand. While Hannah drove I used my new knife to cut cord into small loops and ran it through the holes in the glowsticks. I was still a bit nervous, but I had a plan.

“Any special reason we went with green?” Riley pipes from the backseat as Hannah pulls out of the lot.

I jerk a knot closed. “The monster was glowing a kind of yellowish color, so I figure if our lights are green, it’ll show up well, and if we’re still holding some of our lights, we’ll easily stand out as different.”

“Ahh,” he nods, and the car goes quiet, but for the wind. Hannah and Amy are focused and quiet, and with that last question gone, there’s nothing really left to say. It’s going to be us versus the monster soon.

When Hannah pulls to a stop, I look up from my little arts and crafts project to see Riley eying the wall and houses, looking around for a more private spot, same as I did just yesterday. It's not quite deja vu, but it's strange watching someone do the exact same thing you remember doing.

“Riley,” I call, grabbing his attention and motioning to the other girls. “I have it on their authority that those houses can't or don't see us here. We'll just be changing right here by the car.”

He doesn’t look particularly reassured, and continues looking at the houses. But he still steps forward into the clearing and shouts. “Spirits of old, keepers of the glen and glade, I call on thee!”

With Riley jumping into transforming first, I keep an eye on the treeline. I’m only at it for a second before I hear a mild embarrassed giggle, and I look back to see a grinning Hannah elbowing Amy. They’re not looking at the trees, but our male ally’s perfectly outlined form as green energy coruscates around him.

I sigh. “Hannah, Amy. Your boy troubles aside, can we not stare?”

Amy goes beet red, and she looks away, but Hannah just keeps grinning and staring. As Riley’s transformation starts to fade, I give her a look and a cheeky grin of my own. “Just remember that he gets to watch us next. Your transformations aren’t any better, given you asked for privacy earlier.”

Hannah loses her grin at that, and while she founders with the idea that some boy she doesn’t entirely trust is going to get to see her mostly naked, I initiate my own transformation.

“Void beyond the deepest black, join with me to crush evil!”

That rush of warmth comes flooding in, and my senses expand again. It’s only been a few times now, but the rush is there every time, and it’s accompanied by the comforting low tones and hums I’ve been calling starsong. It washes my worries away and just feels right. There is no better word for it—this centers me better than any meditation exercise I’ve ever done. It’s an almost transcendental experience.

I come down out of my zen high and have just enough time to take in Amy launching her own form-revealing preparation before sudden movement to my right draws my eye and my glaive snaps to the the ready.

Once I’m focused on it, though, it’s clear that it’s not a person or a monster—it’s Riley. A bush is fountaining out of the ground, doing its damndest to become a tree, and my nature-themed friend is standing in front of it, tense and rigid.

I glance back at the Jeep to see a chagrined looking Hannah actually keeping watch, and then reach out to grab Riley’s shoulder.

“Hey. What are you doing?” I ask mildly.

He starts, jerking as my hand comes down. “I—practice,” he manages to stutter.

I wait a beat before responding. “Practice?”

I eye the giant bush and then him. I can see worry on his face, though he’s trying to hide it behind false confidence, and I get it. He’s where I was last night. First time going into combat, doesn’t know how to use his powers, trying to figure out how to grab his magic. We’re lucky that it seems to come so easy—if it was something we needed lots of learning on, I would have been completely useless in that first fight, instead of inflicting terrible injuries and buying time for all three of us to escape.

Amy drops out of her sparkler aura and Hannah starts up her own blazing show. As the taller blonde shouts her invocation, Riley jerks his head to look at the treeline facing the slope. I’m not super inspirational, but this is exactly where I was. I tighten my hand on his shoulder, leaning down and in to speak softly in his ear, tone low. “It’s okay. I went into the fight last night never having used my powers either. I’m sure you’ll pick it up quick enough.”

“Thanks.” His reply is strangled with emotion—I’m not even really sure what sort. There’s a sort of weight to that single word all out of proportion to its meaning. He manages to pull together a smile though, and follows up with a less heavy, “Really. Thank you.”

I give him a nod and return his smile. Then Hannah is done, and it’s time to head into danger.

The trip down to the bottom of the gully is an exercise in deja vu. For all that our powerful leaps and fast movement carry us down the tree-choked slope quickly, I was literally doing the exact same thing less than a day ago. I can only hope that our prep and Riley’s help are going to be enough to change the outcome this time around. I grimly remember my mistake in executing my attack on the creature—if nothing else, I at least know to keep my eyes open this time.

On the way down, the glowsticks are cracked and shaken, and as we approach the set of buildings, our group is wreathed in eerie green light. Before long, we’re right where we were last night.

Hannah motions for us to split up and I shake my head. I wave her over before responding in a low voice. I speak softly, rather than whispering, having read once that whispers carry farther than just speaking softly. “Spread out, but stay where we can we can see each other, at least the glow. I want to gang up on it, not let it split us up.”

Hannah pulls a face, but covers it up, nods and turns back to Amy. We spread across the courtyard, and I can’t help but look to the bulldozer and the direction the monster came from last time. I don’t see anything, but a shiver runs down by back anyway.

Hannah and Amy head off to our left, checking the opposite side of this building. I sweep my gaze from side to side as we move slowly forward, looking for any sign of the beast. In some ways this is worse than last time. I know just how dangerous this thing is. I have a twinge of phantom pain in my arm and gut. I don’t have the false confidence in my “experienced teammates” to be able to pick up my slack.

To my left, Riley’s shallow breathing betrays his nervousness and reminds me of his presence. It’s mildly unnerving, but also loads better than having nobody back me up. My thoughts are interrupted—a green glow comes from up ahead.

I flick my gaze to the left and note that the girls have vanished. Dammit Hannah, I said to stay close, not rush through the buildings and link back up with us. I scowl and stalk forward.

“Goddamnit Hannah,” I mutter as I stride forward, my long legs rapidly eating the distance to the building’s corner. “The one thing I ask, and you just ignore me? We’re gonna have to have a fucking talk about how you coordinate with the newbies.”

I grab and hold that irritation and anger with our ally. It supplants the unease and fear that’ve been lingering in me.

I’m almost to the corner when the glow intensifies. The words are on my lips, I’m ready to chew her out. The words die on my tongue and the comforting warmth of indignant anger turns to cold ash.

It’s there, coming round the corner, head cocked and regarding me with one dead eye. The yellow luminescent dots on its hide are gone, and replaced with viridian, an exact match to our glowsticks. It chuffs, and yellow shoots along its hide, replacing green for a brief moment before the the green sweeps back.

My heart hammers in my chest, time slows as adrenaline kicks in and I’m already throwing my strength into a panicked sweep of my polearm. It moves its head, snakelike, and the blade bites into its shoulder. A giant arm sweeps out, almost reflexively, and catches me dead center. The haft of my weapon jams painfully against my body but neither breaks. I’m blown down the corridor between the buildings from the force of its strike, the world tumbling and disorienting.

I throw my limbs out and manage to catch the ground, my spinning tumble becoming a long, shaky skid. I plant the butt of my weapon in the earth as I bring myself back around to the ground. The dirt rattles and furrows as my velocity bleeds away and I carve a long mark in the earth, nearly the length of the building. When I stop, I try to stand. I can’t. The hallway wobbles and spins, and my gorge rises involuntarily. I have to force down the desire to puke.

I stay crouched for a moment, but I can hear Riley, calling for our friends. I’m not recovered, but I’m not waiting to feel better so he can die in his first fight. It takes a moment to stagger to my feet, and I have to use my weapon to lever myself up. I force myself into a stumbling run, trying to correct visually. I’m less than successful on that count; I have to push off from the wall a few times as I move as quick as I can manage back to the fight.

I’ve already got blood on my hands. I’m not adding to it. Definitely not someone who’s already saved my life.

I nearly trip as I hear the thing screech—not the pulsing warble-howl that put the fear into us last time, but still some kind of vocalization. Pain? Anger? I recover my balance a bit, my stomach still unsettled, and step around the corner in time to watch Sentinel Green leap back from the monster, back toward the courtyard.

We’ve got it trapped, now, sandwiched between us. I briefly wonder where Hannah and Amy are, my thoughts spiraling along dark lines before squashing them down. If they’re hurt, it doesn’t much matter. We have to take this thing out, and we have to keep pressure on it so it can’t use the fear trick on us again.

I continue leaning on the wall as I raise my glaive one-handed and ram gravity down on it. The creature is crouched, prepared to leap at Sentinel, and it crashes down atop its own arm, screeching cut short. A glance beyond it shows that Green’s well clear. I don’t waste my power holding a trick I know it can get out of and let my distortion fade.

I feel well enough that I stop leaning on the wall, stepping back out toward the intersection formed by the buildings before I realize I’ve already made a mistake—again. I remember our last encounter, but so does it. The instant the crushing force pinning it to the ground lets up, its arm punches out from beneath it, launching itself at me. Its huge spiny form looms in my vision, and I’m sure I’m dead.

There’s a blast of heat and light, and Hannah rockets to a halt in front of me, kicking away from the thing and pressing her back to my chest. A jet of fire simultaneously rams the smaller girl into me and us back and away from the monster. It roars in pain again, eating a searing jet instead of smearing me under its weight.

I’m unable to contain my pained “JESUS FUCK!” as I struggle to keep a hold on my glaive during the short trip. The landing’s ugly, and we crash in a tumble of limbs, her cape tangling us. I rolled to my side, arms wrapped around my chest. None of the hits were anything major like my last fight, but that was a rocket punch right in the tits, and it hurt.

“Fucking A,” I hiss, and then roll to the other side to get a bead on the monster. I immediately wince, not entirely from the pain. Blinding white bars of light lance out from the corridor on our right as Amy lends fire support. I hear the chatter of automatic fire as magical tracers streak like meteors through the gap in the buildings. The ruined hide on its left side is savaged even further, and it growls, throwing up one monstrous forearm to block a few shots. Then it flexes and throws itself just around the corner of the building, closer to us and out of Amy’s line of sight.

Hannah and I are still picking ourselves up as it takes a few steps toward us and stops. It sets up, sitting up taller, and sucks in a long, shuddering inhalation. I see its pale eyes gleaming, and all I can see in its dead eyes is that we’re going to fail again.

It only manages to hold my gaze for a second, but it feels like eternity. For a sickeningly long moment, I can see nothing but the death of myself and all of my new companions looming in its milky gaze.

Then there’s a snapping crackle and its head jerks back, as woody brambles wrap around its head and torso, jerking it back. It thrashes, but more vines join the first few, piling on and weaving into each other, tightening down and digging in with sharp thorns. The promised howl never surfaces, reduced to a strangled gurgle barely audible above the creaking vines.

Starsong swells, building in my head. Fast, harsh, insistent. I almost killed it last time. But it jumped away. It can’t move this time. I stand tall, and move the glaive to the same position, blade over my right shoulder. I don’t close my eyes this time; there’s no need to. Everything falls away but the creature, myself, and the vast curvature of the cosmos. Power floods through me, more than last time, more than I’ve used yet, pooling in vast amounts, and I raise my weapon high, marking the tiny bump in spacetime that is the creature’s mass as my target.

The song in my head reaches a crescendo—and as it does, I take a single step forward and unleash my power. “SINGULARITY SEED!” I cry, and bring the glaive down, the downward swing of the weapon mirrored by the downward spike of space’s fabric as my magic bursts forth, latching onto the tiny bump of the creature’s mass and making it more. There was no dodging this time. I didn’t just make an impossible gravity well, I turned its own miniscule gravity shadow against it.

The creature and the vines holding it vanish into a tiny, black speck. As does a shallow crater in the ground and wall next to it. Wind knifes through the space between buildings, howling into the void, filling the deep bore in the skin of eternity I’ve made. The wind tugs harshly on my hair, whipping it into my face briefly, but I don’t pay it any mind. The moment from has inverted—there is nothing but starsong, the wind, and a sense of elation and victory.

Then I run out of juice. The bore I’ve unnaturally extended ends, and the spike snaps back into Earth’s normal curvature and the wind reverses, blasting out with a spray of grit. I sag, taking a stumbling step forward, just barely managing to get the haft of my weapon oriented up in time to plant and lean on it. I’m spent, empty, just like last time.

I start to slide down my glaive, but an arm wraps around my waist and hauls me up. It’s not enough to keep me standing straight, but I’m not going to slide to the ground, either. I glance down at Hannah, an exhausted smile on my face. “You sure you wanna try to hold me up?”

She grins up at me while adjusting her grip. “Not normally, no. But I think I can manage while we’re in uniform.”

Amy rushes down the lane, worry rapidly dissolving but still present as she takes us all in. “Everyone’s okay?” she asks, though the question is almost rhetorical. Hannah clucks and throws a thumbs up, her way. And then she’s ramming into us in a hug that’s just a bit shy of being a tackle.

I let Hannah hold me up as Amy gushes over us. I don’t really miss her watery eyes, and when she turns to congratulate Riley for his part, I look down at my caped companion. She’s not crying, but her glad expression goes solemn, as she stares at her friend’s back. Krystal is still gone, but now avenged.

I squeeze Hannah in an awkward, crouched over one-armed hug, and she starts briefly before glancing back at me. I’m not good at this, but I offer her a wistful smile. Her expression softens and she returns it. Neither of us wanted this. It’d be better if she was alive. But we couldn’t change that, and this was… okay. We’d manage.

“Holy crap,” Riley finally shakes himself out of his stupor and draws my attention. “I can't… a part of me can't really believe that all just happened.”

He looks up from staring at his hands and flashes a giant grin at me. “How the heck are you still coherent after that limit break?!”

For the first time since this all happened, my mouth is faster than my brain. “Well, you know. It’s no Omnislash, but I’ll take the fear monster over a one-winged angel clone,” I fire off, playing wry in contrast to his more openly elated tone.

He cracks up laughing, and it hits him in waves, before finally dying down, and he wraps up his final chuckles with a “Quasar Black!” echoing Uematsu’s One Winged Angel.

Huh. I’m momentarily taken aback. Not only got the joke but knew exactly what I was talking about. I mean, he was probably born in... ‘99? 2000? That game’s older than he is, so how’s he familiar with it? I’d heard rumors of Final Fantasy VII getting an HD rerelease. Had it come out without me noticing?

“So we’re good? Mostly?” Hannah interrupts my thoughts, and a series of jokes that she and Amy obviously failed to get. “Think you'll be able to make it back to the Jeep in a few? I don’t think there's anything else here, but still...”

Riley sidles up next to me, and I don’t really wait, slinging an arm around his shoulders and standing up a little straighter. As kind as Hannah’s gesture is, I have to crouch down to lean on her and it’s not comfortable. My recovery from that attack is much faster than last time, but I’m still not at a hundred percent.

“I think we can start heading back.” I venture, nodding toward Riley as he throws an arm around my middle to help hold me up. “I can start moving, and by the time we’ve got to head up the slope I should be okay.”

We start toward the slope, Riley providing a useful crutch, Hannah and Amy walking alongside us. Amy looks over at the two of us, looks to the tree-filled slope rising steeply up, then back to us. “Um… do you need to be at the shopping center to go to your apartment, or can you go from here?”

Riley sounds a bit confused. “No, I can get to it from anywhere.”

Hannah looks at me with skepticism. “If the only reason you’re hanging around is to walk us back to the Jeep, don’t worry about us. Amy and I will figure it out somehow.” She’s sarcastic, and I have a momentary stab of fear before realizing it’s just friendly ribbing.

I tug on Riley’s jacket. “C’mon. I’ll be fine to climb the slope in a minute, but we don’t have to, and we got the monster. They’ll be fine.” I don’t want to sound like I’m whining and slacking off… but I probably do.

Riley still sounds a little reluctant, but admits it’s a good idea. “Yeah, that makes sense,” he says, shifting around. Then he opens his mouth to say something more, but just trails off with a “Well…”

He flounders, clearly unable to decide between raising further objections or saying goodbye. I make his decision for him. “We’ll see you guys in a few days, okay? Meet after school in the same spot on... Friday? We’ve got to get some things set up.”

The girls nod in assent, and then Hannah picks up Amy in a bridal carry and gives us a smirk. Amy’s expression is… complicated, her face a bit red and her expression worried as she watches us. I don’t get anything more before Hannah launches them into the treeline with a leap.

We pop back into the apartment before I can see them land, and Riley staggers to the side a bit, jostling me. I find I’m pretty much recovered, as I can easily get my own footing. Riley shivers and laughs, and I let myself relax a little, leaning on him a bit more. My voice shakes a little as I speak. “Adrenaline comedown?”

His hand flies to his face and his voice almost holds a hysterical edge as he replies. “I can’t believe we just did that. Well, I mean, I bet you’re having an easier time believing it.” He calms a bit as he turns to address me. “Are you still sore?”

“Nah I’m okay.” I shake my head. “I heal up quick and after my big attack there, it’s more exhaustion than being sore. Even that’s mostly gone.”

He goes rigid for a second before blowing out a frustrated “Aw—crap. I completely left my weapon behind. Here, you can get comfy while I…”

Hah! I know this one. I thump him lightly in the ribs to interrupt him before he can dump me and go back to the yard. ”Not something you have to worry about. Did you see me carrying my glaive when I wrecked your car?”

He frowns a bit. “Oh. No, I… wait, you mean?”

It takes him a minute but he get it. “Damn that’s cool!” he exclaims, before letting out a relieved breath. I can’t really blame him. I probably wouldn’t want to head back to that place alone either.

I pull away, standing up straight and stretching my back with a smile. His enthusiasm is kinda infectious. “Yeah, it pops back to you when you transform.”

I like being the expert at things, being able to explain them, but beyond that, it’s nice having someone at my side like this. Even if he’s greener than I am. I take a mental pause at that. Greener. I smother a laugh, and manage to reduce it to a snort and a twisted smile. It’s such a terrible pun.

“What’s so funny?” he probes.

I can’t help it now. He’s asking. “I had the thought that even though I’m pretty new, it’s nice that you’re even greener than I am.” I can’t keep my grin down or the smile out of my voice, and I watch his face carefully when I say it, waiting for the reaction.

He groans loudly, but he’s smiling. “You just went from cool new roomie to the best roomie ever. Keep ‘em coming. Seven days without puns makes one weak.”

“Ugh! That one’s worse!” I laugh, and then the scene goes too familiar. I’m still smiling, but… I go still, my eyes going to the floor. Sandra always hated my stupid puns. I shake it off, glancing back up, but it’s a bump in the conversation.

He doesn’t seem to catch it though, or ignored it. He keeps his smile, plowing on, being silly. “But you better believe I’m stealing that from you if we ever earn ourselves like, an arch-nemesis or something. ‘You’d better watch your step, Mr. Super-Mega-Evil-Badguy-Face! I’m not as green as I was before!’”

I recover a bit of the jovial mood. Joke construction. Sure, I can do that. “Maybe instead ‘I’m not as green as I look.’ since they couldn’t know how green you were before?”

“Ooh, that’s better,” Riley glances down at his own greenery and chuckles. Then his face falls, a moment of realization playing over it—less than shock but more than simple surprise. His face goes serious, his smile gone and he leans forward, sea-green eyes spearing me as his words rush out.

“Maeve—I know about what really happened to Krystal. That you were the driver.”