Description: If it is painful to lose a friend, it is agony itself to face a friend as an enemy. The atrocities are mounting in Southtown as the would-be saviors of this city find themselves bereft of home and now allies, their own loved ones turned against them by the strange machinations of SIN. But they are not bereft of hope, and in the midst of this chaotic spiral the last of the ex-YFCC defenders find the hour ripe for a counter-attack to win back what has been unjustly torn from them. Alma Towazu and Kentou Ondori venture forth to the desolate streets near Gedo to bravely spring a trap and witness first-hand the results of SIN's experimentations, as Frei, all inhibitions wiped away, becomes a conduit for the raw forces of nature he once controlled. Arrayed against the might of all creation and the insidious plots of their foes? Two young men's righteous fury, and the power of love.
The sun has dawned on a new battle.
And somehow, to Alma's eyes, the light that bathes these desolate streets reveals not the suffering this city has undergone but rather his potential for regeneration. He never imagined, even when the foreboding psychic miasma was at its thickest, that his beloved hometown would once be a place where light should be feared, where he would seek dark corners to avoid the foes lurking on every street. He never imagined that a world most able to sustain his ideal of harmony through copious respectful competition would become a war zone, where violence really is meant to fulfil its most obvious purpose and human dignity something to be necessarily dispensed with, where integrity is not the prize for virtuous struggle but a soldier's awkward bastion against insanity. War -- real war -- this is something that threatens every one of Alma's ideals, and something that, though he has revealed it to no one, he hates and fears.
Yet Alma is the type of man that holds his ideals all the closer when they are threatened, and it is precisely on a battleground that respect and interdependence must not be forgotten, precisely in these dire straits that now-inconvenient virtues cannot be abandoned. It is thus that Alma, who has no real taste for war, has appeared to his friends and subordinates as though he does, as though not even this has fazed him, and he has been able to serve in his usual function, crucial when all other structures have collapsed; he has protected his volunteers and rescued families from the chaos unflinchingly, a youth otherwise all too sensitive to his surroundings apparently impervious to the madness besetting this place. A faith that purifies his heart as he plunges into an unclean morass; a conviction that can turn to ruthlessness as easily as it can inspire. There are some respects in which the mindset of a priest is not so different from that of a soldier, and in these, Alma has excelled.
So he has survived, not only with his body but with his mind and heart. It is that heart that has driven him into the light again and again to fight; it is that body that has kept him alive through each engagement, long enough to see the kinder light of today: one that heralds a possible coming reversal. And it is that mind, as he walks silently through these seemingly abandoned streets, that churns now, gazing into the future while it still can-- while the present does not demand all its attention.
Who is responsible for all this? Perhaps it is only a hunch; perhaps it is mere wishful thinking, the desire that everything will all fall into place and Alma, caught between two morally ambiguous positions, will find the right path. But Alma suspects that everything here, these assaults and this chaos, can be traced back to the actions of one man. A man that has donated enough to the YFCC to both glorify its constituents and render it impotent against him; a man, it seems, that has tormented one of Alma's dearest allies. Geese Howard, of Howard Enterprises-- the man who indirectly even now Alma is protecting. Justice demands the truth. He will find a way to protect both the YFCC and K'. He will find leverage against Geese Howard himself. He may get his hands dirty again. But Alma truly believes that he can do this and retain a pure heart, that he may act deceptively but with sincerity. For that, he will need to prove that he can take responsibility; for that, he will need his friends.
And for both of those--
"Kentou..."
He must fight.
"Stay close."
The tall blond's distant gaze has turned upon his diminutive companion as though it had never been looking elsewhere, and for a moment the enigmatic young executive, right hand slipped elegantly into the pocket of his designer jeans, allows himself the gentle ghost of a smile for the boy. Though he has led them smoothly and steadily through shadowed alleys, having clearly canvased this area for a safe route of approach, he has been less wary than usual, and fairly enough; today, they are on the attack. Today, they will draw out an ambush, and turn the tables on their opponents-- to take back what is rightfully theirs.
Alma, whose face and poised stance speak of nothing but quiet confidence, had been silent for several minutes, though he would reveal his unspoken awareness of Kentou's status every time he paused to wait or reached out to momentarily bar his path as he checked for danger. Yet as they stepped out of the alley and once more into this light, this light that is no longer so oppressive to Alma's eyes, they are witness once more to a startling transformation. Alma may find his intuitive undertones heartening, but he cannot deny that through any other eyes Gedo Street is a wreck. What is worst, perhaps, is that it looked so bad before; this place was always scary-looking, and Kentou, even if he hasn't seen it, had surely heard. But this-- what they see here is a travesty in shattered concrete and blistered brick, chunks of stone eerily splashed with arbitrary bright colors, remnants of griffiti now ripped asunder.
"She might be here."
There is something fearless in the mild smile Alma turns toward the school looming ahead of them, that institution now a fortress for their furtive enemy. To be so certain of what one must do is to be able to easily set aside fear and embrace sacrifice; it is thus that philosophers have said that courage is at heart simply knowing what you really want. But Alma would not make this subtle display if he did not want Kentou to see it-- and neither would he mention the girl he allowed to be abducted. Hotaru, his sworn sister-- she is one of those taken captive.
"Come, Kentou..."
Even if their princess is in another castle -- even if his calculations are totally off and none of his friends are to be found here -- he will need this boy's help, to be certain. That is why, under that unassuming courage, he banishes another inconvenient feeling: that, frankly, he is very worried. He could not protect Kentou last time, from their enemies or from himself. If their opponents are similar, he might rather call the retreat than allow history to repeat itself. Yet these were how their forces had to be split, and, more importantly-- even now he feels the potential burning within Kentou. He may have more confidence in it than Kentou himself. And to let that potential flourish is one more ideal that, even under the pressure of battle--
"Let's save our friends."
He will not allow to be extinguished.
"Together."
Stepping fully into the light of the war-torn street, Alma looks back over his shoulder at the boy and, of all things, grins, framed by that savage backdrop-- before sedately beginning the final approach to their objective.
Small fingertips brush yellow silken fabric adorning Kentou's chest. Absently stroking the jagged scar, bound and hidden there. Though it still pains him, this mostly-healed wound from that twisted monolithic general, its dull agony is a splinter compared to the unrest roiling behind his distant, dark eyes.
The last week has been a trial for the boy fighter - To say the least. These are certainly trying times for all, Kentou cannot claim sole lordship over these travails ... But kinship to suffering soothes his wracking guilt hardly at all.
Hotaru's apprentice obeys Alma lifelessly. While he's certainly no covert operative, one would think he could rally better stealth than his performance to date. Nearly tripping over a few discarded cans in the alleyways, following the stalwart YFCC Director's lead.
Kentou did this. To Hotaru and Frei both. It was him.
They were only targeted because they came to rescue him from the invasion force. To save him, they made themselves a threat. To save him, they brought the combined wrath of those murderers upon his Master's House.
Worst of all.. When they came for his dearest friends. When they attacked and took them away.. Kentou raised not a finger to help.
Though bed-ridden he may have been, barely able to crawl out of the sheets in the guest rooms above at the sounds of the battle.. By the time he could crawl to the scene.. It was already over.
Frei and Hotaru saved his life, and he did not raise a hand as they were taken out from under him.
To blame himself may be the childish thing to do ... But upon occasion, the youth does show his true age.
Days have passed. What immediate sorrows Kentou had wallowed in have been reforged into conviction. Forgiveness can and will be begged for later.
As long as Kentou draws breath, he will fight to save his loved ones. He will go anywhere, fight any one and if he should die ... So be it. The prospect of death does not terrify him nearly as much as again living a coward, while Hotaru yet suffers.
Alma's words snap Kentou's attention to the here and now. Brooding eyes dart upwards, focusing to the angelic man as his thoughts focus on where he is and what he's doing. "Hai." A fast, unthinking reply.
Kentou would have demanded Alma that he help him, if Alma did not ask first. If Alma told him to stay home, Kentou would have followed him anyway. It is best for them both, then, that the Director is fast to recognize the help he needs. Kentou finally embraces a modicum of caution as he carefully looks around the corner of a chipped building corner. Spying the ruined hulk that was once Gedo High School with a slow frown.
Kentou's seen this sort've thing on television. Newscasts from third world, war-torn countries. Schools - riddled with shells and cordoned with soldiers. God-forsaken places... Not just down town from where he lives. The boy never really got into the whole 'school spirit' thing, not as much as certain classmates he has in Pacific High. He never felt an iota of enmity for Gedo in the slightest. Chinatown isn't that much safer a neighborhood than Gedo is, so the boy felt something of respect to Daigo's gang carving a niche of safety here in this urban jungle.
Why did these terrorists do this? What did Gedo ever do to them? What did ANY of them do to them? Why is this even happening at all?
Kentou doesn't know. Even carefully explained, the boy may never understand it. The need for people to be malicious to one another is foreign to him. Ideas of hate discarded from a mind focused on honor and peace. Why this war unfolds and how it might end ... Ultimately concern him little. To save who he loves ...
As the radiant one implies Hotaru may well be in that compound, Kentou's mousy eyes flash. In one moment, his meek visage transfigures to one of intense determination. He would charge blindly ahead.. if Alma's plan was not superior. "Hai!" The boy nods swiftly, long braid bobbing with the motion.
Keeping low, the youth moves quickly. Adrenaline pumping through his veins. Thundering heart drowning out the background noise of the city ruins.
Hotaru... Frei.. He's coming...
Another day, another atrocity.
Marz had been vindicated, in the end. Her continued existence was testament to the fact that her actions had proven correct. The girl does not make the best company in the world, quiet as she is, and usually without any true indication of preference, those around Shadaloo rarely spoke of her, and when they did, it wasn't usually in reference to her combat capabilities. Most contact with Marz was second hand. She dealt with statistics, analysis, reports. Not one of the ones often associated with battle prowess. Primarily because, perhaps, when she had found herself thrust into the front lines, she usually came back heavily injured.
Not that she ever failed, of course. She is one of the Dolls, after all. Dolls do NOT fail.
However. When it comes to analysis, Marz really -is- terribly good at what she does. And, naturally, the Doll has been fascinated by the new developments being reported by SIN. Though she hadn't been able to spend as much time as she would have liked monitoring the company- war tends to be hard to organize, especially with all the constant distractions that the resistance had offered. When word came down that she was to take Frei into combat, however, she would be lying if she said that she intended to approach this mission with the same attitude she had approached the last one. 'That woman' was a mindless killer. Brutal. Barely controllable at the best of times, and, frankly, Marz would have liked to have seen her killed.
This... this was going to be fun.
Marz had reviewed the psychological profile of Frei's friends, as much as they existed, and had committed herself entirely to preparing for the combat. The intent, of course, was to test Frei. Not her own combat potential. But, at the same time, she had no intention of letting the fascinating potential represented by Frei be destroyed. So she was going to need to enter the fight herself...
So it is that instead of a heavily armed guard, instead of hundreds of guns focused on them, the two intrepid heroes find the streets of Gedo ... disturbingly silent. Instead, the pair are greeted by a polite clearing of the throat, as the purple-haired young girl walks from an alleyway, to take up position in front of the pair, a ... careful distance away, with her hands clasped behind her back. Her uniform is impeccable, not a hair out of place. Her headset snug, and her laptop safe within the armored black on her back. She could not possibly look more professional than she does. Her expression carefully controlled, and her eyes... more focused than usual, really. Intent on the two invaders.
"Ordinarily." She states, calmly. "I would offer you the chance to leave. But. Given the situation, I would sooner not waste your time or mine. You are both hindrances to the glory of Lord Vega, and, therefore, you will both be destroyed."
Marz snaps her fingers, then, and speaks up just a bit. The words are spoken just as calmly, just as coldly, as the previous statements. Her tone calm, measured, and utterly unreadable. The girl a veritable emotional deadzone.
She looks to Kentou, first. "I am going to kill you." She states. A simple point of fact, as valid as any other.
"Frei. Eliminate Alma Towazaru."
The air is alive.
When the S.I.N technicians first injected Frei with the drug, the effect was actually relatively minimal. Metabolic functions went up, which is expected; at rest, the cannibalizing nature of the drug is actually fairly stable, since fighters heal at an accelerated rate anyway. The role of chi in everyday motions is next to non-existent, the scientists believe, and so the test subjects should only display the potential negative consequences of Seth's concoction when exercising their fighting abilities.
Boy howdy, were they right.
Take Hotaru and Frei, merely on the level of comparison. Both are relatively similarly-experienced fighters; Hotaru's lifelong family tradition giving her a bit of an edge there. Both are experienced and talented wielders of chi. But Hotaru is a very well-rounded fighter, having received a broad education and experience with fighting. Frei, on the other hand, is focused. Very focused. He learned to use chi before he ever learned to fight; his spiritual nature makes him inherently receptive to such things. Even before the drug became involved, there was always a backbeat to the music in his soul.
Chi is life energy. It's *produced* by the mere existence of life. It is literally, unequivocally everywhere, and it beats in time with the planet itself. It's the metronome of the universal clock. And though he wouldn't be able to tell you that he did, Frei has always heard that tick. A quiet, unassuming voice in his head, a calming force.
It thunders in his heart like the drumming of some ominous celestial thunderhead, now. A steady and inexorable beat. A normal person would likely go insane *instantly*, subjected to it. Under the strain, even Frei's legendary calm resolve has cracked. The drug, sapping his will and amplifying that chi-forged connection, eating away at the very fabric of his body, is slowly and surely killing him.
The fight with Mizuki was his first use of his techniques since the injection. What started there was resonance, and rather than stopping it's simply gotten worse. Though his facility with elemental power is great, it does not -- as with many others -- typically spill out into the world. Those days are gone; faerie fire dances around his body, hues shifting so quickly it makes the eyes water if focused upon. The air is never still, blowing in random directions. Flame and thunder spark between his fingers; frost trails behind his steps. The *pressure* in the air is undeniable.
He steps out of the alleyway, glancing at Marz with a dull expression. He wears black slacks, brown shoes. A black, ribbed cotton shirt, much like the fabric of the Doll outfits, on his torso, but it's ripped and torn, not bothered to have been repaired when SIN retrieved him after his bout with Mizuki. The holes in the fabric show recently-healed scars from that very bout, or... other things.
There is no light in his typically bright green eyes as he turns to look at Alma and Kentou. Recognition? Possibly, but no more than someone seeing an individual who before existed only in a photograph, or a distant memory. One leg goes back, torso turned to the side, and one arm comes up, palm in. He gazes at the two people he's called friend once before.
They might as well be strangers.
"Understood," he says calmly, before rushing forward at Alma without a second thought. A hand comes up, the various energy forms sparking there swirling into a multi-colored haze before, at close range, an invisible shockwave shatters the air between the two Glory Hounds like broken glass.
COMBATSYS: Frei has started a fight here on the right meter side.
> //////////////////////////////]
|-------\-------\0 Frei
COMBATSYS: Alma has joined the fight here on the left meter side.
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Alma 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Frei
COMBATSYS: Marz has joined the fight here on the right meter side.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////////// ]
Alma 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Frei
> //////////////////////////////]
|-------\-------\0 Marz
COMBATSYS: Alma blocks Frei's Reiki.
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Alma 0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0 Frei
> //////////////////////////////]
|-------\-------\0 Marz
COMBATSYS: Kentou has joined the fight here on the left meter side.
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Alma 0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0 Frei
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////////]
Kentou 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Marz
The air is unbreathable.
Alma Towazu has endured war and chaos, staying true to his beliefs in the face of forces that would crush the ideals of lesser men, but against this his heart rebels. Having turned away from Kentou, the boy will not have to see how quickly that unpretentious grin fades, the model's lips twisting as though rejecting some foul taste. The presence of the Doll is nothing; he has long since grown accustomed to the sight of an aura so corrupted, of a soul the essence of which has been carved out as one might a thick-rinded fruit, warped into a mockery of itself by a blighted energy that reforges others in its own accursed image. It is the presence of his dear friend, more overwhelming than ever, sweeping his perception so forcefully that it reduces other auras to fog and haze, that causes bile to rise in his throat. Alma chokes, struggling to tame his hysterical spirit.
How is this possible?, his heart cries out. How could such intimate bonds be so corrupted? How could a friendship I still feel burning within me, these bonds that shape my very being, suddenly find no reciprocity from the person with whom they were made, with whom they necessarily connect me? What sort of connection is this, that no longer connects? A twisted aura is one thing, but a twisted aura that at the same time feels so /familiar/-- it threatens to draw Alma in, to lure him into a trap of his own making, to turn his strength into a weakness. If he reaches out, he feels, he too must be twisted. How could he divide himself from what Frei's heart has become? Trembling at this thought, Alma is at an impasse, utterly paralyzed by an eventuality his world decrees impossible.
He looks into those dull green eyes and shudders, his own hazel orbs pained and distraught. How strange it is that he cannot imagine this reality, one without the Frei he knows. These two monks without monasteries have always, in their way, stood side by side, their different ideals in wary alliance. Frei's freedom and Alma's justice-- they resist one another. Yet freedom and justice are only superficially incompatible; in fact, neither ideal is intelligible without the other, and even where they seem to differ they safeguard one another. What Alma experiences is not simply a longing for a friendship forged by the bridging of profound differences-- it is a resistance to a kind of false cosmology, a heinous metaphysics where half of the moral universe has been carved away, leaving what he still retains nonsensical in isolation.
He cannot move.
Strangely--
'I am going to kill you.'
It is Marz that saves him.
"Khh!"
Alma reacts spontaneously, one palm thrusting forward at the last moment to catch Frei at the tail end of his lunge, just in time to summon forth a shield of his aura that roars into visibility in the face of this surging chi, a glittering white wall of his will around which multi-hued elemental forces rage. No-- he will not accept that Frei is gone. A faith even deeper than his psychic intuition denies what his senses tell him. There is no way that the self of his dear friend could have been so utterly crushed; if it were, he would feel it, would feel that essence carved from him too. A part of Frei lives within him; he truly believes that. And so too must a part of Alma live within Frei; he must believe in that, and use it to bring the Frei he knows back. Furthermore--
"Kentou!"
Having reacted purely subconsciously, Alma's priorities are obvious-- for even as one hand barely manages to fend Frei's hypercharged power off, his other arm has flung back to shield his ally from the collateral damage.
"We must stay close this fight!"
Even if freedom has abandoned justice-- evil remains what it is.
"I believe in your power!"
Alma, hearing Marz's words, is reminded of his enduring foe.
"If we support each other, we cannot fail!"
We mustn't fail.
"Uuurghh..."
Even as his arm trembles against the strain of fending Frei off, the hand with which he had been shielding Kentou falls away, being brought
Even as his arm trembles against the strain of fending Frei off, the hand with which he had been shielding Kentou falls away, being brought forward instead to summon his signature ethereal flame, pure white traced with cherry-blossom pink and royal indigo.
"FREI!!"
That is battle cry enough for Alma Towazu. With that shout echoing to the heavens, cutting through the oppressive air, Alma breaks free, fiercely shunting aside the remainder of Frei's attack in a powerful attempt to unbalance his foe before plunging those righteous flames forth. He will burn away at the corruption that plagues his friend. In striking against that will, it shall reform anew, free of what ails it. With this soulful light, he will be able to pierce through any darkness, no matter how pervasive.
This Alma believes.
Who in the...?
The voice from the distance grabs Kentou's attention immediately. The youth whirls about, feet sweeping as he promptly adopts a fighting stance. Fists upraised with one leading before his shoulder, elbows parallel to the ground as he bounces on the balls of his feet - Ready to move and dash at a moment's notice. A soldier he may not be, but a fighter he's been sculpted into. This new addition, this sharply dressed woman raises no recognition. She looks vaguely official.. Maybe she's the JSDF? He can hope?
Though as her speech unfolds, the boy's frown deepens significantly. Dark sepia eyes glaring balefully beneath wild chocolate bangs. Wrapped knuckles tightening into fists.
He oughta thank her. So rarely do the badguys let him know they are ones, these days.
Who this Lord Vega is, how glorious he might be and whatever else she might think she's about to do is irrelevant to Kentou. With a feral snap, the boy barks, "WHERE'S HOTARU!?" No thought about it. It was this evil person's only chance. She can answer willingly and Kentou won't beat her into a million pieces right here and now! Though.. It would seem, Marz skipped question number one and went straight for question number two.
As the Doll invokes his Instructor's name, the boy instantly turns to look. Eyes widening as that punishing resolve disappears in an instant, "FREI!"
Heedless, Kentou breaks into a run. Not a combative charge... But a relieved rush with eyes widening, "FREI! Oh man!" Waves of relief instantly douse his wrath, thankful that his dear co-mentor and friend is still alive! "FR-"
The full sight of the Monk stops Kentou dead in his tracks. That wretched, broken aura swirling around him. The uniform, the scars and slashes therein. He barely even looks like Frei.. Kentou hardly recognizes him. The boy's look contorts slowly into astonished horror ... Mouth wordlessly working as he attempts to comprehend this. Not understanding.
Wait, did she say something about killing who now?
Frei's dismissive, unresponsive look over him puzzles the youth. Slowly raising his hand as he just begins to approach again. Lips working the wherewithal to again conjure Frei's name...
... That is until the new Doll opens fire.
Kentou stands stricken. Jaw hanging as the blast of energized force wooshes right past him, bidding his long braid to dance in its wake. His hand still outstretched.. Heart caught in his throat. Processing what just happened. Not even looking to his side and ascertain Alma's fate as the man valiantly attempted to protect the boy from the ensuing onslaught at Frei's hand.
...Frei.. Just tried to kill Alma? ... On her orders?
....Wait.. What?
"F..Frei..?" Kentou mewls quietly. "W..what're y..?" Glimmering eyes unable to process fully what depth of betrayal unfolding. Just standing before the marauding destroyer like a deer caught in headlights..
It happens so fast. Alma shouting orders that Kentou can barely hear. 'Belief' and 'Power' are invoked. The world seems to dance at the edge of his vision. Air struggles down the boy's throat. A counter-attack is launched from the Radiant One at his side.. At Frei? Why is he attacking Frei? Why is Frei attacking them? This doesn't make..
"N..No... Stop.. Wait.. Stop! What are you.." Wide eyes look to his ally, nearly leaping infront of that heavenly blast to protect Frei.. Only stumbling to a halt by inches. Instead he turns to Frei once again, waving his hands, "Stop! FREI! WAIT! DON'T!"
This can't be happening... What kind of nightmare is this?? Kentou has no idea why Frei suddenly agrees that killing them is a good idea.. At the same time he can't let Alma just.. Just blast him away!
The boy's thoughts a chaos of conflicting loyalties and emotion. What is right and wrong here.. Completely outside his grasp.
Well.. Okay. There's ONE piece of wrong the boy did clue in on.
Kentou's eyes look to Marz slowly. Wetness in the corner of his vision. The edge of his lip trembling. The accusation is unspoken, yet spears her right through.
You. Are. Dead.
COMBATSYS: Kentou focuses on his next action.
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Alma 0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0 Frei
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////////]
Kentou 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Marz
"It will do you no good."
Marz's voice is utterly calm, completely devoid of any of the emotion or intensity that was beginning to build in the area. If she cares at all about the emotional pain that she is at least partly responsible for inflicting, the Doll makes absolutely no sign of it. Instead, her eyes meet Kentou's own. Silently challenging, and utterly devoid of emotion. Simply locked on her target, though... she certainly doesn't seem to be in any hurry to assume any kind of stance.
"Frei works for us now. And he's... much better than he was before. When he's done with Alma, assuming that you haven't already expired, his power will be turned on you, and you -will- be destroyed. But. I believe that Alma is the finer test of his abilities, and I wish this data to be recorded without any... distractions. So. Your choices are simple, run. Or die by my hand, or that of your former friend."
The girls expression changes, then, becoming a bright smile, though her eyes remain devoid of any recognizable emotion, she has, gradually, circled herself around and closer towards Kentou.
"But of course. I do not expect you to walk away. So. Come when ready, and I will try and make it quick for you."
COMBATSYS: Marz focuses on her next action.
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Alma 0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0 Frei
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////////]
Kentou 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Marz
COMBATSYS: Frei blocks Alma's Self Expression.
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Alma 0/-------/----===|==-----\-------\0 Frei
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////////]
Kentou 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Marz
Frei doesn't move. He doesn't even BLINK. He simply retracts his hand, dropping mechanically back into the stance he started in. The lightshow doesn't abate; in fact, as Alma's passionate soul flame erupts around him, it responds in kind, intensifying. Much as he did with Mizuki's own furious icy assault, the experimental subject simply attacks the oncoming assault, rather than trying to weather it. Whorls of gold and silver coalesce around the pink-white burst, shredding it, dispersing it... by the time it reaches Frei's body, it's a ghost of its former self. Different though those powers are -- the spiritual essence of a person, versus the elemental fury of nature -- they CAN and do interact. But it's not enough to deny Alma's aggressive step completely. The redhead grits his teeth as the Soul Power licks across his torso.
Though they don't regain any of their previous lustre, the dull green eyes do widen for a moment. In pain? In surprise? Possibly both. The answer isn't entirely clear...
Kentou, for the moment, is forgotten. His instructor is a living weapon, now, at SIN's command. And though Alma seeks to burn away corruption, there is surprisingly little to fight. The Frei that is 'Frei' is still there... it's simply drowning in sensory overload. 'Strong power requires a strong will,' he had said to both Kentou and Zach, at different times. But this person in front of his former friends is without will, without direction. He lacks center. He is a hurricane with no calm eye.
His eyes come up, locked on Alma.
"Ah. It is... you," he says evenly, inching his foot forward slightly. Two things, at close range but with Frei at rest, become apparent, now; his stance is 'wrong'. Mechanical, too tense; as Mizuki noted, his normal way of moving is fluid, intuitive; now it's as his body has read the music but never heard it actually played. Secondly, what seemed to be a trick of the light is now obviously something else: his normally dark red hair is streaked with countless shocks of white, even more now than when he fought Mizuki. And while there is recognition deep in those eyes, it is nothing more than that.
"You possess 'that power'," Frei says carefully, circling around Alma, being wary, staring as if evaluating a statue or a piece of art. "It makes you confident. Too confident; you lack doubt. You feel there is no power greater than the self." A pause, and... the ghost of a grin shows on Frei's face? But it's gone quicker than an instant; it's as if it were a momentary, subliminal burst of static in a television picture, a trick of the light. "I will show you the folly of such arrogance. Such a self-absorbed ability is nothing in the face of all creation's anger."
And then he advances. No caution, no forethrough, only brutal and terrible ferocity. His hand shoots out; much as he did with Mizuki before, Frei's hand goes for Alma's throat, looking to close around it. If he can get that grip, the fighting model is lifted off his feet with a strength Frei has never, ever shown before... and then he simply pivots on one foot, hurling Alma toward a nearby building wall. In midair, however, his body is hammered with countless invisible blows, raw chi slamming at him from every angle. Of course, it's unlikely Alma will simply let himself be thrown about in such a way, but in the face of SIN's newest addition, he might not have a choice...
COMBATSYS: Frei successfully hits Alma with Shindou EX.
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Alma 1/-------/=======|====---\-------\0 Frei
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Kentou 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Marz
Even in the face of all creation--
"Frei..."
Alma won't relent.
"Don't do this!"
Still, however much he knows what he must do--
"Please..."
It hurts so much.
The psychic hero circles his erstwhile ally, their two-toned hair both rippling with the shockwaves of their previous collision. Though his stance is as poised as ever his chin is lowered, watching Frei through the low shade of red-tinged bangs, one hazel eye partially obscured. "You might be right," he continues, his voice as soft as ever, though it resounds clearly through the desolate street. "But isn't that how it's always been? I, subordinating nature to the needs of the individual -- you, defining the individual by their forgotten place in nature -- though our starting points have always been different, we came to terms with that. You saw me as presumptuous in my zeal; I saw you as listless without greater purpose. But we both know that the self and the world aren't opposed, whichever we believe comes first." The aura is the same, yes; what Frei has undergone does not seem to be the sort of psychic torture Alma is used to perceiving. Neither, of course, does his spirit resemble the prematurely formed identities of NESTS subjects. What sort of technique did they use? He cannot tell. "You mustn't--"
Whatever words he might've spoken are quite literally choked off as Frei rushes forward and the model, though attempting to twist away, fails to avoid the fingers clenching around his throat. Buffeting and disoriented by a barrage of furious chi, he loses his footing only to be thrown to the side and into a hefty chunk of shattered concrete, further reducing to dust the wreckage around them. Coughing softly, the young man dazedly extracts himself, keeping one eye on his formidable opponent.
"F-Frei..."
Gritting his teeth, the androgynous fighter summons his light to his fist.
"If I must bend creation itself to my will in order to save you--"
And he abruptly explodes from the dust, having subtly shifted his weight and his power into his feet to project him bodily from the concrete and send him plunging through the air at his opponent, his glittering right hand arcing back to whip the spiritual flames there into the semblance of a blade, the energy extending outward to a fearsome shimmering length as he approaches his beloved adversary.
"Then I will!"
He cuts as he approaches, bringing forth all of his fighting spirit into one mighty blow, the incandescent sword of Soul Power aiming to crush right through Frei's defenses and both sweep aside any attempts at resistance and shear away the injustice that now plagues him.
She had him at 'Frei works for us'.
When Kentou commits to something, it is not by halves. The boy does not understand much of what unfolds here, but all he DOES know is that this woman set his mentor to attack one of his best friends.
That is all Kentou needs to know.
At some point during Marz's last uttered sentence she'll come to notice that Kentou's fist is a hair's breadth from striking her upside the head.
The boy apprentice is fast. He was fast before Hotaru trained him for an entire year in her finest arts. He was fast before Frei taught him how to reach into the deeper universe and look beyond the surface. He was fast before he spent week after grueling week, running across the whole of Southtown every day, only to be on time to train his speed and precision yet harder and then run all the way home again.
Now? Kentou's speed is transcendent. A blink and you miss him.
An after image of him fades from view at his launch point. The dust stirring in the wake of his darting path an instant after. A soft clap of thunder sighs the air's frustration trying to keep up with him. His form vaguely that of a spear, leading fist outstretched with legs spread mid-vault. A direct arrow-like strike, as fast as any sprung from a bow. His voice only now catches up.
"SHINSOKU YARI!!"
Kentou has faith in Alma. A plan forms in his own mind - at least the vague outline of one as unspoken as it might be. If Alma can hold off Frei just long enough.. Kentou can beat this woman down and force her to give up control of Frei. Then surely Frei will snap out of it! .. Of course he will.. He has to!
Just hang in there Alma.. Don't let Frei get hurt! If Kentou can do this.. Alma can do this! Together.
COMBATSYS: Marz blocks Kentou's Shinsoku na Yari.
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Alma 0/-------/--=====|====---\-------\0 Frei
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Kentou 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Marz
Fast!
Marz would by lying if she said she was ready for that. But. If there is one advantage that she has... it is that her awareness of the situation around her is practically perfect. But... his speed! Knowing that he had gone from standing to striking so fast. Well. There is simply no way that Marz's body can move swiftly enough to avoid the blow. The girl is fast, but fast as she is, her mind works far faster, and she can't dodge...
Instead, in the fraction of a second that she has before his legs slam into her gut, her arms come down, and soak the vast majority of the blow. She grunts, and in the next instant, the girl steps back. She hadn't seemed to take any kind of stance at all, but, her body had reacted nonetheless, and though the attack was painful... she now knew something. He had -incredible- speed.
But was he fast enough?
Marz's fist suddenly lashes out, a simple blow, one she has practiced countless times, it strikes with pin-point accuracy, and a great deal of speed- not nearly as fast as the near-supernatural skill displayed by Kentou, but definitely impressive nonetheless.
The trouble is, Marz is /already/ falling back. If Kentou was so fast off the mark, there was no way she was comfortable with him so close. She needed distance if she was going to have any chance of surviving the fight.
Which is aggravating. Because the levels of power being thrown around by Frei and Alma are amazing... how dearly she wishes she could be analyzing /that/ right now, in greater detail.
COMBATSYS: Alma successfully hits Frei with Blaze of Glory EX.
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Alma 1/-------/=======|=======\-------\1 Frei
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Kentou 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Marz
Someone, at some point, is going to look back on this fight and see it as the point where it all started to go very, very, very wrong.
The sound in his head... it's already getting louder and louder with every passing second. A possible way to describe it is to perhaps say, plug your ears. That *whumwhumwhum* is your blood, pumping. Take that sound and amplify it a thousandfold so that it's like a constant crashing of tympani drums inside your head, one after another. And Alma, for all his good intentions, is slowly but surely eroding what little control and center Frei has left. Mizuki was right: communion with nature is something that is harmonious... curious, given Frei's statements to Alma about the difference in their powers. You become part of the rhythm. But now the rhythm is all Frei IS. His little core of control -- that icy, machine-like assassin's persona the drug has made, flipping on some sort of switch and flipping off another -- is all that separates him from the sound.
Beat. Beat. Beat.
He means to fling himself to the side, and Frei taxes his body... far too much, in fact, as the sudden and dramatic stream of blood from one nostril suggests. He doesn't make it in time; the burst of psychic energy hits him full on, sending him sprawling on the ground facedown for a moment or two. But worse than that is the *feeling* of a Soul Power strike. It is a clash of wills, and while Frei is abnormally well-composed for a non-psychic, right NOW he's not exactly in his right mind. Whereas accompanying that lightshow are Alma's intentions, his hopes, his determination. They sear through neurons that are already taxed to the limit.
When Frei stands, it is with a shout that reverberates through the air like the howl of a wounded animal.
He turns to Alma and takes a step forward, the air around him hazy, and that step slams into the pavement so hard it *cracks* around his feet, like a meteor slamming into the asphalt. "You could NEVER!" Frei bellows, holding his hands over his head. Bright light, a pure white, flows into his palms, gathering there in a coruscant ball growing ever larger. "What are you?! A man?! A single man! With your vaunted power! You could no more bend this world to your whim than you could extinguish the SUN!"
Hands swing down, palms inward, the bright white sphere bleeding off tendrils and sparks of energy like falling stars, and it illuminates Frei's face with a terrible, cold light. "This world will persist when your arrogant corpse is rotting at my feet! When all you love and hold dear has died this world will go on. AND I AM ITS AVATAR!" The hands surge forward. The sphere becomes a beam of pure energy. Just as his assault on Mizuki was yin chi, the energy of death, given form, this is yang chi... beyond flame, beyond blood, the purest essence of life itself. Lancing outward toward Alma in a burst as tall as he is, looking to in no uncertain terms erase him from existence entirely.
COMBATSYS: Alma slows Hokuto Rekkoudan from Frei with Divine Intervention.
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Alma 1/-----==/=======|=------\-------\0 Frei
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Kentou 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Marz
What power!
Alma may only watch in awe as Frei, all inhibitions gone, draws forth an incredible force, the very spirit of a universe too vast in breadth and scope to ever be constrained by human ideals. In the face of the energy being channeled here, a cry of the earth itself that exceeds Alma's own appeal to heaven, the young man must face head-on his own insignificance, that in his urge toward salvation he seeks to claim mastery of a world far beyond his own understanding, in which he is less than a speck. The human world is the world of meaning-- but the greater realm in which this human perspective exists dwarfs such concerns. And Alma wonders if perhaps his most dangerous opponent is not a heart so utterly corrupted that his light cannot shine through it, or a person that mimics integrity and dignity so well that Alma begins to doubt the necessity of his faith, but rather an enemy that exists in vaster world outside his own, where love and despair are irrevelant, where there is no value or judgment-- only an energy too mighty to accept the puny posturings of the good or the evil.
No.
"That is exactly--"
Even as he accepts that as true...
"--what it means to be human!"
He will fight against it which every ounce of his being.
Even if this universe was not made for our sake, even if in the face of its greatness our efforts and values are superfluous at best, such presumptuousness is demanded, Alma is certain, by the human condition. It doesn't matter if good is 'real', if the friends and ideals he loves so much have any value outside of the spectrum of his own limited human existence, a single breath of eternal time. That limited human existence is all he has, all any of them have. To strive so pathetically, so arrogantly, is precisely how they were made; even if to think to incorporate that vast universe into the human structure it houses is unspeakably absurd, that is precisely what must be done. Of what use to a human is the 'truth' of human insigificance? /So far as he is concerned/, within the world of meaning, where forces otherwise greater than humankind are subjudgated as right or wrong, worthy or unworthy--
"And you, too, are human!!"
Even the sun is outshone by his light.
"Hrrraahh!"
The beam that emerges from Alma's hand is tiny in comparison to the tidal wave of chi essence that surges toward him, threatening to consume him utterly with that terrifying power. Yet when those powers meet they are locked in place, that little beam staving off the monstrous force that would otherwise overwhelm him. One man against the universe, he resolutely, unrelentingly, heedlessly pushes back. Even once that beam begins to shudder, splitting, the tide of energy pushed closer and closer to him, Alma does not flinch or look away, or even seem to entertain the idea of backing off. Even if it results in his eventual destruction -- even if it must -- he refuses to turn away from what defies him.
The collision is inevitable.
The wave, slowed but not reduced, crashes over his tall form and he braces against it, his silhouette hunkering down before it disappears entirely, by all appearances scattered into dust. But the light fades, and the energy passes--
"I won't let you forget that."
And Alma Towazu remains standing.
Stylish clothes half burned away, body trembling with the strain of facing down the universe itself, the psychic's gaze nevertheless remains clear and steady, not looking away from his fate.
COMBATSYS: Kentou dodges Marz's Calculated Strike.
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Alma 1/-----==/=======|=------\-------\0 Frei
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Kentou 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Marz
As his mentors once taught Kentou, one must focus on the fight at hand. To look beyond the present reality is to court disaster. Sagely advice the boy could give Marz in turn, as she desires to be fixated on the other unfolding confrontation between brothers in arms. Kentou may not be as established and mighty as they.. But few can safely ignore him. Especially when he is dead-set focused on reducing her to a pummeled heap and extracting Frei's freedom from her.
However, as potent as the boy's speed might be ... He has not yet mastered it. The youth is as much a victim of his velocity as his enemies. Especially when an enemy can look through the abrupt, blurring motions and see the blossoming plan behind them. As Kentou's lightning-fast strike crashes upon Marz's hastily wrought defenses, the youth holds steady. His fist crashing against her blocking arms and the boy holds firm, balancing while his momentum catches up in his attack's aftermath. Forced to hold still and watch as the Doll's extremely well-considered blow darts for his solar-plexus with frightening alacrity.
At the absolute last second, Kentou barely manages to regain his balance and vault-sideways in a whirling motion. His rotating torso barely affording him enough space as her striking fist passes its target by only a fraction. The boy literally twisting himself about and cartwheeling away in a near panic to avoid that strike.
Dang it - She's good!
The youth's feet barely touch the ground once more before he speeds after her retreating form.
Kentou cannot delay. Frei's voice echoes in his ears as he wills destruction upon the Sacred Director. The boy forces himself not to be distracted any further, shaking his head and clearing his mind. He has to have faith in Alma, nor can he let the man down now! He has no idea what this woman is capable of but the boy can't hold back on her. She's holding his mentor's leash and he can't delay a moment more!
"Soushou-" The youth continues his assault anew. Pursuing the Doll with renewed vigor as he closes the short gap of distance in yet another burst of speed. Ducking low before -dashing- in a blast of motion. His arms spinning in a confusing, wind-milling motion. Gaining speed and force from the circular, Kenpo techniques as he attempts to sweep aside Marz's blocking arms and finish with a hard double-fisted thrust at her mid-section, "SHIN!"
COMBATSYS: Kentou successfully hits Marz with Soushou Shin.
- Power hit! -
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Alma 1/-----==/=======|=------\-------\0 Frei
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Kentou 0/-------/------=|=====--\-------\0 Marz
Marz's surprise is obvious. She hadn't anticipated that he would actually be able to dodge that attack. Though his panic was clear to her, the fact is... Marz just hasn't been able to adapt to real combat as well as she has taken to the world of facts and figures. Those were static elements that could be carefully controlled and manipulated. The crucible of hot combat was a confusing and painful place.
A fact evidenced amazingly clearly as she attempts to step around and to the side of the boys amazing speed... and winds up misjudging where he was aiming completely. Marz is good, but she is not omniscient, and her footwork only serves to make sure that she practically drives herself further onto that painful blow. The girl crumples around his fist, the air knocked from her lungs for a moment...
And then she grunts, a most unladylike sound, and her whole body -pivots-. That had hurt. But there was... something off with Frei. She could tell that much, and it was disturbing that she couldn't determine precisely what it was that was leading her along those lines. Other than the fact that the man was clearly unhinged. But, she was coming to the conclusion that -everyone- who worked in Shadaloo was at least a little unhinged.
Except for her, of course. And Cammy. Good old Cammy.
Her legs are a sudden blur of motion. A dancing whirlwind as she forces herself into action, to try and plough on through this pain, and give it her all. Her legs lash out time and again, as she attempts to circle the boy, each motion carefully placed, and each step along the way intending to keep her at an angle just a -little- difficult to keep up with, even with blinding speed.
Human?
"Not anymore."
Did that finish him off? Of course not... and truth be told, Frei is looking considerably the worse for wear despite being on the *offensive* end of that attack. Blood trickles down his face from his nose; some of the scars visible through his torn clothing have reopened and ooze blood themselves. The longer this goes on, the more chaotic the tempest around him is getting, and the less stable; it flashes back and forth, weak and strong. The amount of white shocks in his dark red hair is now at least half and half of both, though what exactly is DOING that is up for debate. Still, he stands his ground, dropping back once more into that clockwork stance, a doll wound up and thrown forth, a tin soldier.
For a moment, he has a reprieve, and his eyes stray to Kentou for the briefest of moments. Does he recognize him? He is familiar, the name he shouted is familiar. The sense of... connection is familiar. A hand comes up, palm down, covering the experimental subject's face for a moment, gripping it as if he's trying to hold his features on with that grip, looking out with one dull green eye between spread fingers, breathing heavy. Green. He can feel... green. The whisper of leaves on a summer's day. Lightning during a spring shower. The color and scent and sensation of it assault him like a hammer, slamming into him with terrible and invisible fury.
"Ngh... stop..." he mutters, leaning forward, before his hand falls and he yells, louder: "STOP!" The sound, in the chi-laden air, takes on a nearly physical quality, rattling the bricks in the walls. What is this memory? Alma's will, infused into his psychic strikes, are one thing, but they're human. Faulty. Tricks of electricity running through neurons. But that soft green -- grass in a field, stalks of wheat -- assaults him on the level of some sort of primal memory. Life remembers. If chi is life then once, long ago, Frei held Kentou's very life in his hands. A green spark.
It's too much.
The air around him swirls, the SIN 'doll' not attacking, merely losing himself ever deeper in the current of energy around him. "Humans... brief lives. Thinking themselves creators, they mimic and shape and duplicate but produce nothing but empty air and statues that crumble into _dust_," he hisses, flicking his gaze at lightning speed between Alma and Kentou. "To be some pathetic wretch like this rat?" he snarls, pointing at his former student. "Who has nothing of his own, who is NOTHING but a pale echo of those greater than he could EVER aspire to be? To be like you, pretending that knowing another's feelings is to know their being? You could never. The song..."
Here, he falters for a moment. The song... it has notes of green. Even, briefly, notes of pink-white. Alma is *alive*. His passion is proof. In all living things, the spark exists. He cannot express it, perhaps, because his music is different. It SHOULD be harmony. They should coexist. But everything is wrong. Chords crash against others. The ribbon of green is adrift in a sea of red and blue, black and white, gold and silver.
"Ngh... come at me all at once if you wish... I am the vengeance of forces beyond your understanding... and I will destroy you until there is nothing LEFT!"
COMBATSYS: Frei gathers his will.
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Alma 1/-----==/=======|======-\-------\0 Frei
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Kentou 0/-------/------=|=====--\-------\0 Marz
The truth cannot be denied.
Alma is more certain of that than ever before as he steps forward from the wreckage of what he has endured, watching as Frei struggles with what devours him from within. There is the truth of the immensity of creation, yes-- but for those who must live as humans, even that truth fades in comparison to the demands of passion, of a life that must be lived meaningfully. Just as the heart cannot withstand a meaningless existence -- an existence as this awesome force would have it be, such artificial elements swept aside -- so too can Frei's body not withstand this state. The power that he channels is real, Alma knows, but whatever its source, it cannot sustain itself. Whatever Frei may say--
"We make what we will of what we are given."
He is more than an avatar.
"That song-- it is beautiful, but--"
Hand slipped into the half-frayed pocket of his scorched jeans, the battered but resolute model continues his even approach toward his faltering adversary. Even as Frei's overwhelming power twists tormentedly, raging against its own host, Alma's flame burns steadfastly.
"We hear it only with human ears."
He doesn't have to tell Frei these things. He doesn't need to justify Kentou's or his own existence to that wild power. But he must call Frei back, bring him back from the overwhelming abyss on the brink of which he teeters, lest this energy of creation subsume him utterly-- lest he be eaten alive by his own chi.
"We're not afraid of being small," he continues softly, closing within range of his opponent, "or of some day fading. Don't you remember, Frei? Our efforts are necessary, not naive-- and you're a part of them; you always have been. I know you haven't forgotten our struggles. You're no... mere tool of nature."
This is the only way. Before Frei burns himself out entirely, before Kentou is harmed, before too much is lost, Alma must bring Frei back to who he once was, who he still is within that terrible storm. Spreading his arms slowly, he appears to abandon defense, his eyes as gentle as his voice.
"Come back to me, Frei."
Whatever ails him--
"Let's go home."
The power of love can defeat it.
COMBATSYS: Alma gains composure.
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Alma 1/------=/=======|======-\-------\0 Frei
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Kentou 0/-------/------=|=====--\-------\0 Marz
COMBATSYS: Kentou interrupts Fantastic Footwork from Marz with Tekkoudan.
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Alma 1/------=/=======|======-\-------\0 Frei
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Kentou 0/-------/---====|=======\=------\1 Marz
In another time and another place, Kentou would be impressed with Marz. Even now, in the heat of battle, he'll admit that she's a strong fighter. But for once, that is a source of consternation rather than joy.
Kentou loves nothing more than to compete with the greatest fighters in the world. Its an honor to fight against them, win or lose. So unfortunate her talents are thrown away in this... Whatever it is she and her 'friends' think they're doing to this city. On top of that... How culpable she is in Frei's kidnapping and ... aberration she might be is unknown. As far as Kentou is concerned, it may be total.
As such, the boy fights as if possessed. Hotaru's spirit, wherever it might be, transfigured over Kentou's own. Her fighting style and movements over lapping his. Kenpo, as a Chinese-adapted fighting art, is based on fluidity. The boy is never entirely bereft of kinesis. Always dancing or shifting on his feet. His strikes and attacks one continuous, uninterrupted attack punctuated by a strike of severe conviction. Compared to the incredibly energies unleashed by the other two combatants, Kentou is a quaint throwback - But his art is not without its own beauty, even in the throws of vengeance.
Kentou does not banter or entreaty for her surrender. She knows full well what to do if she wanted mercy, and it involves releasing Frei instantly from whatever fel bondage dominates him. The youth pursues her with righteous indignation, the fate of his mentors fully at stake here and he will die before letting them down. Can Marz say the same for whatever serves as her master?
Ultimately, the harshest blow comes not from Marz's potent footwork.. But from Frei himself. His words, his sudden call to 'Stop' gives him a moment's pause. Breaking the very rule the Monk, himself, gave him in saner times to never lose focus. Those poisonous words strike at Kentou's raw spirit. Flinching visibly as he can't help but retort, "N.. No Frei. You don't mean that! SNAP OUT OF-"
Marz Attacks!!
The first kick strikes the boy soundly across the face. The snapping impact the only warning the youth has for the onslaught that ensues. If Kentou has learned on thing from his masters.. It is to never give up. Not ever. To fight and struggle even when hope seems darkest. The youth spins from the hit, whirling about and landing on his hands.. Upside down as the Doll's dance unfolds. He moves with her, a ballet of violence. Flipping completely over and stepping just aside each kick. For a moment, their speeds match. To one anothers senses, it appears a thing of slow motion. The young man twirling and vaulting with every step, looping as she strikes and corrects with every movement. Never giving him a rest and the boy struggles to stay just a fraction of an inch ahead of her. A cry of desperate effort leaves his lips, pushing himself just that little bit faster. That little bit harder.
Just enough for Marz's final kick to miss his head by a fraction... As the youth is crouched in a low stance, sweeping stance. Arms wide like wings in flight.
"TEKKOUDAN!!"
Hotaru's apprentice lunges in a point-blank blast of furious motion. Rising from his crouch, thrusting his fists forth parallel to one another and the ground. Spearing at the Doll's middle with all the rising force his lithe body can muster!
For a moment, Marz's eyes go wide. There's a split second where she -knows-, without a doubt, what is going to happen.
And then he slams into her, and she practically breaks in half. Already hurting in that spot, the wind is ploughed out of her, and she doubles over around his fists, sprawling to the dirt when she finally departs from the point of impact. The blow is... painful. And it has clearly done its job well.
The trouble is, Marz needs to be aware not only of herself, but of Frei as well. She didn't want to see the newest addition to Shadaloo's happy family lost any more than SIN wanted to lose their newest toy. But, he was obviously losing his mind. Was this within acceptable parameters? She wasn't certain, and, really, there is only one thing she can do at this point.
Forcing herself up from the ground, Marz steps back, and pulls herself up straight, breathing out, and breathing in, she seems to focus on Kentou for a moment...
And then suddenly she bellows, as loud as she can manage, "FREI! Enough foolishness! Keep your mind focused on the mission, and ELIMINATE ALMA TOWAZU! THAT IS AN ORDER!"
The shout is about all Marz can muster, right now. Trying to catch her stride again, this boy... was too much for her. She was certain of that, now. Marz is very good at judging herself relative to her opponents. But. Maybe, if she was lucky, she could serve as enough of a distraction that more uncorrupted data could be gathered before she herself fell and Frei was left to fend for himself. Something she wasn't entirely certain she wanted to risk at all at this stage.
COMBATSYS: Marz gains composure.
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Alma 1/------=/=======|======-\-------\0 Frei
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Kentou 0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\0 Marz
"'Home'?" Frei asks in a hollow tone, staring at Alma as if he's crazy. To the experimental subject, he might as well be, really. The idea of 'home' is alien to him, now; his thoughts barely have coherence, the actual words and phrases coming through some deeply-couched memory of how to even talk in the first place. "Where's that? Under your dominion? Special as you are, rolling in here like some sort of savior, playing the hero... you're a fool. Both of you!" Again a hand comes up, gripping his face. It *hurts*; when his hand comes away, blood trickles, stigmata-like, from the corner of one eye as well. Whatever is in there, whatever's eating away at him, it's doing an *exceptionally* good job, all things considered. The smears of red on his palm as it comes away get regarded with a sort of detached curiosity, as if it's a blurry vision seen from a long distance away.
"I'm no tool," he says, voice low and flat, advancing on Alma. Blue-white light flows down his arm from his shoulder, coalescing in his hand, becoming a cold 'flame' that is, in reality, the coldest ice, snowflakes and ice shards spilling off from him and flash-freezing the moisture in the heavy air. It's so uncontrolled compared to normal, but not in a 'power overwhelming' sense. It's *wrong*, it feels *wrong*... as if it's energy for the sake of its own existence. Without purpose.
"I am a conduit. I am not controlled... not by this power, and CERTAINLY not by you," he adds, glancing at Marz. It doesn't last long, however; somehow, Alma has gotten under his skin. He is a 'black hole', in a way; so is Marz, come to that. And beyond them both is that constant, needling green that is starting to unnerve him more and more. "We are one voice, a chorus of one individual. Something you couldn't possibly understand. You drag everything into your own paradigm, recofigure the world in your own image, but it's fundamentally flawed. Humans see the world only as extensions of themselves..."
His hand comes up. The sudden drop in temperature is the only indicator to Alma that he is, if he doesn't do SOMETHING, about to be frozen solid in a block of ice, Kula-style. "I am quite the opposite!"
COMBATSYS: Frei successfully hits Alma with Hatsuyuki.
- Power hit! -
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Alma 1/-======/=======|=======\-------\0 Frei
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Kentou 0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\0 Marz
"Ah..."
Alma will not refute Frei's accusation. That is precisely what he does; there is only the matter of whether or not it is objectionable. And by what criteria would nature itself, inherently outside any notion of 'criteria', judge this objectionable? It is narrow, to be sure; futile, definitely. But Alma is neither afraid nor ashamed of this reality. Frankly, given the nature of his second sight, he experiences quite viscerally the sense that there is little different between seeing the world as an extension of oneself and seeing oneself as an extension of the world. That, perhaps, encapsulates the difference between himself and Frei as well as any phrase-- the only disagreement is on how one should react to the truth, not what the truth is.
"Frei..."
So why creation's indignance?
"...Whatever you say..."
Cold, brutal cold. Alma, his senses open, can feel its immanence as sharply as he will its reality. But he refuses to guard himself, to raise any manner of defense; he continues to leave his arms open, by all appearances in the hope that Frei will approach him. He knows that he is taking a great risk, that if he falls foolishly it will be brave Kentou fighting alone. But Alma is as aware of the conditions of victory here as he is the dangers. There is nothing to be gained from crushing Frei with everything he has, not when the affliction within him is so obscure in nature. But maybe-- maybe what is already there can be appealed to. And even if that hope is vain, the bond he shares with the man before him, enveloped in an energy with which he is consumed by rather than in harmony with, is not something he can abandon without casting aside his very being. There can be no compromise with dignity; love is unconditional. Even as the attack begins to enclose him, his breath becoming fog as ice accumulates, he attempts to summon forth the friendship he cannot but believe remains.
"...I won't..."
The frost gathers, encasing his legs and torso.
"...turn away..."
And Alma speaks no longer, frozen utterly. His figure remains as it was, a beautiful blue-hued statue, arms still spread in mute appeal, gaze unturned from Frei. A silent witness to the change the monk has undergone.
Long moments pass.
A light to pierce through darkness; a fire to melt the blackest ice. There is no sound of cracking, no mighty struggle engaged. The silence simply continues as the ice begins to rapidly melt, a wide pool of water forming as the aftereffects of the attack fade away, leaving Alma, his vaunted hair hanging damply about his glistening face and damaged clothing soaked, still standing open armed at his opponent.
"No matter what."
He'll show Frei what it means to be human.
A determination that seems to defy reason; a love that transcends creation. He'll show Frei until he remembers, until this power ceases to consume him-- and nature remembers its place.
The power that passively pulsed through him, the sea of flame within him that resisted the elements, now kindles again about his arm, and he reaches out gently, as though to simply take Frei by the hand. What emerges is not a blast or a bolt but rather an amorpous stream, a flow that courses swiftly past the distance between them and aims to carve around Frei's defenses, enveloping him in turn in that psyche-shaking Soul Power, impressing upon Frei again and again what even in the face of apocalypse must endure: the human spirit.
The boy wonder does not exalt in his deeds. In the past, striking girls always left a sour taste in his mouth. Not because he viewed them as weak and beneath such effort - Hardly so! More that his gentlemanly nature sometimes got the better of his judgement.
That is clearly not the case anymore these days. Not after being trained by a world-class warrior like Hotaru or contested the likes of Sakura and Zaki first hand!
Following through with the technique of his fathers, Kentou reasserts his mobile posture. Stepping after the folded, flying Doll in a swift and methodical motion. Distractions nearly cost him a savage blow already ... He cannot let his guard slip for an instant or this woman will turn the tables on him in a moment's notice. He cannot afford that now, not now.
Then she had to go and scream those orders to Frei.
In an instant, Kentou's outrage snaps to the surface. The opponent is clearly agitated as the battle's momentum currently does not favor her, twisting the knife in Kentou's feelings as she bids his dear friend to fight like a dog for her.
Abandoning technique ... The youth simply -pounces- on her. A roar flying from his lips, "LET HIM GO! LET! HIM! GO!!". Attempting to crash against her and -shove- her down to the ground with his hands firmly on her shoulders. Pinning her with rage gleaming in young eyes unaccustomed to such reckless hate.
Even still, even now.. The youth does not lunge for her throat. Though he would sorely like to.. Kentou is not a killer, even if throttling her neck seems like the greatest thing in the world right now.. He can't bring himself to such viciousness.
Even when, perhaps, he has all the reason in the world.
COMBATSYS: Kentou successfully hits Marz with Power Throw.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////// ]
Alma 1/-======/=======|=======\-------\0 Frei
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////// ]
Kentou 0/-------/----===|=======\==-----\1 Marz
Marz is stunned. This is simply not how these events are supposed to occur. First, Frei smacks her down (verbally, thankfully). And then Kentou... completely abandons his style, and just -jumps- at her. In desperation, Marz attempts to dive out the way, but, she's too slow, and she finds herself crashing to the ground, he pounds her against the ground with enough force to make the girl wince, her mask cracking... that... had -really- hurt.
Marz has many flaws. None of them are that she is stupid, and she -knows- when she is being beaten. There really isn't much that she can do but try to ride it out. "Did... didn't you hear him!?" She demands, hotly, her cheeks flushing. "You -idiot-. I couldn't stop him now if I wanted to! I... I don't know what is wrong with him, but it is... beyond anything I have ever seen before. He's... -amazing-."
She was doing so well, but, the reverence in that tone is unmistakable. Marz had seen brainwashing before, but, that was usually so subservient and tended to crack! Frei was... passionate. And dedicated. It was incredible.
Of course. She's also quite attached to the idea of living, and she doesn't know that Kentou isn't going to finish the job any moment now. Which is why after this is said, the girls knee, positioned where it is, snaps up quite suddenly and aims to forcibly bring Kentou back to reality. If that hits, she'll follow it up with a sudden headbutt to his nose. And either way... she'd trying to wriggle back and away, to get some distance and recover!
COMBATSYS: Alma successfully hits Frei with Sacred Wave.
- Power hit! -
[ \\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////// ]
Alma 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|=======\==-----\1 Frei
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////// ]
Kentou 0/-------/----===|=======\=------\1 Marz
Things... are not good. Not at all. Frei's psyche is already dangerously close to short-circuiting as it is. The farther this goes, the more intense the feeling of uncontrolled power, of losing his sense of self, becomes. He doesn't have a name for it, but the feeling of fury, of needing to silence everything. To make that heartbeat STOP. The green, the song, the lavender-white-red of Soul Power. All of it. Yes, he might be a conduit and not a tool... but a conduit has no will. No self. It's an empty shell. WORSE than a tool, because a conduit has no purpose. It exists merely to move something from one place to another.
Alma... Kentou... they have purpose. Moreso than Marz, as well.
He tries to knock it aside, but the soulfire burst hits home, slicing through auras of colored chi like a gusty wind through fog. There is no denying it. Forces of nature come in all shapes and sizes.
Frei doesn't so much get knocked back as crumple. He slumps forward on his knees, palms digging into the concrete; blood drips from his face, his arms, onto the ground. His breath is ragged an uneven. But in truth he wasn't even hit that *hard*... he's felt worse, by a long shot. So why?
Memory.
Without memory, there is no self. And while his will may be... somewhere else... Frei's memories remain. Of so much... of rekindling his relationship with his mother. Of facing Hotaru with such anger in his heart he didn't know who he even WAS. Of standing on the stones in St. Petersburg and, perhaps stupidly, kissing Alma. Memories of all colors.
Memories of green.
He explodes out of his position, leaping fist-first at Kentou. His hands glow purple-black: big, jagged auras of pure yin energy, cold and terrible, and with no elegance and all the rage in the world, he attempts to silence the noise that is filtering into the perfect song that threatens to erase all that he IS. Kentou's sound. The green sound, the sound he doesn't want to hear but which Alma's continued assaults are forcing in through the cracks.
Someone must die. If one of them doesn't, Frei just might.
"STOP! THAT! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!" If he can connect with the first shot, Frei lays into Kentou with a flurry of undirected kicks and punches, practically flailing, that dark chi driving every point home like needles of pure ice under the skin.
Alma didn't consider the consequences of success.
Having endured such a crushing blow, the soulful expression of his power could not be more heartfelt. As an offensive manuever it is not so potent, particularly given the unusually diffuse way in which he wielded it as he extended his hand. But passing through Frei's defenses as though they were insubstantial -- as though this power, ethereal as it seems, was true substance -- it completes the psychic's efforts to disperse the fog that shrouds Frei's recognition of his own humanity. It wasn't easy, with no obvious target, with no clear will to strike against and with smashing that will thus not being the solution to his friend's mysterious affliction. Alma had to simply defy his own senses, and choose to believe that within Frei still dwelled fragments of a being that would necessarily call him back to what he once was. A more desperate and necessary truth, one as profound as the vastness of creation-- but closer to home.
So when Frei cringes and shudders, Alma steps forward once more, that hand with which he projected that energy still extended, no longer aglow with power. Silently he watches as Frei wars with himself. Though his body is battered, it seems as though he is beginning to dry off after melting the ice, his hair beginning to revert to its pristine original shape, a strange proof of the passion enduring within him, a heat racing through his veins and skin. Breathing deeply, he begins to lower himself, that hand extending farther--
To touch nothing, as, unexpectedly, Frei explodes in an entire alternate direction. For the moment, having not sensed Kentou's aura express suffering, he had focused entirely on his imperiled adversary. Assuming wrongly that the surge of violent intent rising up within Frei is meant for him, Alma steadies himself-- only to find that he should have been lunging. "Kentou!!" he shouts desperately, the beleagured hero twisting and staggering as his opponent rushes after the more vulnerable target.
He can't let this happen.
"No!!"
Not again.
Roaring with sudden fury, Alma feels the faith that allowed him to embrace danger sharpen to a point. This bizarre corruption is tearing his family apart. His rage is not at Frei nor at the greater power he is channeling. That power is beyond accusations of injustice. But this-- whatever its source or nature, he cannot tolerate what might now result from Frei's change. It is one thing to overshadow Alma's world of meaning; it is another to invade it.
"Frei!"
/That/ is evil.
"Stop!!"
To save Kentou from harm, to save Frei from a crime he would not want to commit, to save himself and his own love, Alma Towazu plunges forth with all the power and speed he can muster, attempting to -- even if hopelessly -- triangulate his rush so that he at least collides with Frei as the monk makes his assault, attempting to overwhelm that icy chi with the righteous flames of his passionate indignation.
He does not have to think.
Every fiber of his being demands this.
COMBATSYS: Kentou blocks Marz's Combo Attack.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////// ]
Alma 0/-------/----===|=------\-------\0 Frei
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////// ]
Kentou 0/-------/---====|=======\=------\1 Marz
COMBATSYS: Frei successfully hits Kentou with Ashura Ressenjin.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////// ]
Alma 0/-------/----===|=------\-------\0 Frei
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////// ]
Kentou 1/----===/=======|=======\=------\1 Marz
To Kentou this is the life of his friend on the line. His very soul, if the Sacred Director's proselytizing is to be believed. Perhaps, for all of Marz's calculating genius one particular set of numbers just didn't add up. That Kentou would push against his absolute limits and transcend, to save his dear friend. Frei believed in him. It was Frei who taught him how to do the impossible. How to be more than even Kentou himself thought he could be.
As the boy manages to pin the Doll down, finally it seems her resolve seems to break. ... But not from Kentou's efforts. Through the veil of rage the youth begins to discern the nature of her words. Breath heaving with effort, catching up after that nigh-endless melee that unfolded moments before. Dark mousy eyes squinting now. The verbal snap of 'idiot' forcing him to flinch, tempting him to continue the mayhem upon her... But to strike a helpless, pinned opponent is not his way. Especially if she's now in the mood for talking.. And there's one answer he wants to hear in particular.
"...W...what? You.. But... You have to stop him! You people did this to him! You HAVE to know how to stop him! ...You.."
It dawns on him then that Frei has been saying things, but its difficult to listen when every waking moment has been spent with Marz doing her best to break his head. Unlike her, he's been paying absolute attention to the fight.. His faith in Alma was enough not to worry.
Kentou knows with absolute conviction, as long as the Radiant Angel draws breath he will not stop until Frei is free from this waking nightmare. The boy cannot dishonor that conviction by holding any less.
As it so happens, Kentou is going to owe Marz one. By forcing him to pay attention to the other battle.. Kentou notices something is most definitely amiss in Crazytown. Population: Frei.
Sparing the two a quick glance.. The boy cannot help but wince. Seeing the results of the battle thus far ... Seeing The Fallen Monk's terrible works on Alma. The Holy Warrior's enigmatic energies blasting him in turn. A tortured stare crosses his features ... Beginning to realize that Marz ... May not have the power to undo this, even if he does beat the answers out of her.
A surreal moment. Frei surrounded by horrid, evil power. This monstrous visage lunges at him, flailing with all his dread power.
Memories of Frei lazily sleeping on the YFCC desk. The monk smiling that sheepish smile, standing in front of the ancient shinto shrine within the forest.
The rampaging horror charges the boy. Driven mad by ghosts no one, save Frei himself, can see. Kentou has no time to think, no time to choose.. Only to act.
The youth's jaw drops in stunned shock, moving even as the revelation of this turn consumes him. In this moment, Marz makes a bid for freedom and Kentou does not stop her. Crowning a series of unlucky turns, Kentou's sudden rise saves him from the worst of that surprising knee, instead as he crouches he blocks with his knee. Literally using her strike as a spring-board to flip himself backwards and away. Giving her the distance she sought as he abandons her interrogation for the Monk's aggression.
A memory ... Frei, smiling as proudly as a father, offering Kentou a small green candle-bright glow. The illumination reflecting in Kentou's wonder-filled eyes. Breath caught in his lungs.. One of the greatest gifts Kentou was ever given.
The boy stands his ground. Even as Frei's fists crash into him, empowered by unfathomable madness itself.. Kentou holds his ground.
The Apprentice's feet are all but driven into the cracking pavement from the force.. The boy holds his ground.
Blood flies from the youth with every punishing blow, driving that vicious power into his brutalized body... The boy holds his ground.
Alma screams the boy's name, but he need not be troubled. The Radiant Angel did not fail - Not at all! He's managed ... Somehow.. To shatter these wicked people's control. This brutality is a small price to pay for Alma's victory here over evil's power. Kentou pays it gladly.
In the aftermath of that vicious force... Kentou does not fall. Upon a time he might have, but honed in battle as he has been.. Under Frei's very guidance... Kentou does not break.
Blood flies from the youth's clenched jaw, forcing himself to straighten awkwardly. Frei's misbegotten power is.. incredible.. But the youth does not bend.
"...Together.." Kentou rasps with pained voice. Even now witnessing through the haze of agony the Divine Courier striking with all his impassioned might to save his friend from himself. The youth's joins his own power to this effort. Power that Frei himself bequeathed the youth.
A memory ... A flash of emerald light from Kentou's fists. Awakening Hotaru and saving her from darkness. All because of Frei's training.
The boy's eyes alight with clarity.
"RASEN!"
Kentou's eyes snap wide. A flash of motion, and spheres of brilliant viridian appear at his palms. Pure, energized force. The youth is then a whirlwind, spinning in a fast rotation. The points of light leaving perfectly circular curves in their wake as he whirls, collecting the ambient life energy of the world - As Frei taught him. Cultivating this pure force, molding and spinning it together. The spiraling energy collapses into a single potent sphere, collected in his hands. Gleaming with vibrant power.
"TEKKOUKEN!!"
The sphere of force is released. Kentou is sent -hurtling- backwards off of his feet. So strong is the force he is actually flung back and away... And the blast of energy -streaks- across the distance on a collision course for the insanity-stricken Frei.
A brand new technique of Kentou's invention.. Based on Hotaru and Frei's teachings combined with those of his own family arts.
TKentou can only hope this display, accompanying Alma's own righteous furor, can somehow ... Somehow reach through the storm of lunacy gripping their friend.
Marz is at last allowed a break. The trouble is... now, both of the others were focusing their efforts on Frei, and something was wrong. It was... strange. The Project had obviously done something incredible, the trouble is... she doesn't have the strength to stop this, and she severely doubted that Alma and Kentou were going to let her skulk off with Frei's body if they managed to take him down. More disturbingly still, there really is remarkably little that she has left to give herself. The sheer -anger- of Kentou had ploughed through her like nothing else. She's confused, and more than a little scared, too. She had gotten some good readings, but, that didn't mean anything if she lost the project. And from the way her body was telling her 'hey Marz. You know that thing, where you keep moving? Yeah, don't get too attached to that' she was probably going to lose the project.
She might even have to answer to Vega for her failings.
The Doll runs through this nightmare scenario in a fraction of a second, and really, there is only one thing she can do. Desperate though it is, Marz takes a deep breath, and focuses on Alma. Licking her lips, she adjusts her headset, mumbling in german into the device. If she was going to get Frei out of here... at the very least, Alma needed to be out of the picture.
Of course... Frei -could- prove her suspicions totally incorrect, and destroy all opposition now. But even then, that would be bad. She -also- suspected that Frei would turn on -her- before he was done. She needed Alma to take out Frei, and Frei to take out Alma and Kentou before he was through. Then she might be able to complete her mission.
COMBATSYS: Marz focuses on her next action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////// ]
Alma 0/-------/----===|=------\-------\0 Frei
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////// ]
Kentou 0/-------/----===|=======\=------\1 Marz
COMBATSYS: Alma successfully hits Frei with Trial by Fire EX.
-* CRITICAL HIT! *-
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ < > // ]
Alma 0/-------/----===|=======\-------\0 Frei
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////// ]
Kentou 0/-------/----===|=======\=------\1 Marz
COMBATSYS: Kentou successfully hits Frei with Rasen Tekkoushou.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ]
Alma 0/-------/----===|=======\=------\1 Frei
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////// ]
Kentou 0/-------/----===|=======\=------\1 Marz
~ I'm... confused. ~
~ Who's inside here? What is the sound and this feeling? All there is, is fire... not in the sense of actual living flame, but the feeling burning from the inside out. As if I'm a candle, with a very short and very strange wick. The sense that the flame will be brightest right before the end. Everything... hurts. The pain is literally unbearable; if it doesn't stop, NOW, I am going to die. Everything about me will simply cease to be; more than just the body, but will. Memory. Emotions. Everything that made me human... gone. ~
The green spikes. Dischord is cut to ribbons by a harmony so pure in intensity that no force on Earth, right now, could hold it back. But something tries, oh yes. Walls of energy spike around Frei in all the colors of the spectrum. His body literally lifts off the ground, supporting by chi winds, floating. The pavement cracks. But Kentou is shouting, and unleashing his potential... something new and unforseen. Something amazing. It just needs an in. A crack.
Alma's fiery attack slams into Frei's back, and the crack forms. His eyes open wide, his mouth too, expression a rictus of terrified, pained surprise. The energy parts, and Kentou's emerald projectile screams through the gap to hit Frei clear in the stomach.
~ Is this... a dream? ~
He doesn't know. Suddenly he's on his hands and knees; suddenly his hair is completely devoid of its red color; suddenly the energy around him spirals upward in a pillar rising into the night sky like a beacon. Blood is everywhere; on his hands, on his face, coughed onto the sidewalk. Never in a million years did he think he'd feel so much pain. *Never*. Desperate to keep him going, cannibalizing whatever it can, the experimental drug is spurred on by those final two attacks and their amazing, celestial intensity.
Frei's hands come up, holding the top of his head. YOU WILL KEEP GOING. YOU WILL DO ALL IN YOUR POWER UNTIL THERE IS NOTHING LEFT TO BE DONE. WE ARE YOU, AND YOU ARE US. The sound, the cacophonous sound, resonates in his head like the firing of a thousand cannons.
A piccolo line of green. A hum of purple-white.
~ No. There's an 'I' here. I can't... see but... ~
Frei looks up. He glances, terrified, at Kentou. He turns, with inhuman effort, and espies Alma.
For a second, things come into focus.
~ Right. I am... ~
He mouths the word: 'Run.'
The energy explodes, FINALLY leaving his body, released as a terrible, invisible shockwave in all directions, inexorable in its passing. The birth scream -- or perhaps death scream -- of something.
The end result is Frei, face-down in a massive cracked crater of asphalt.
COMBATSYS: Frei can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////// ]
Alma 0/-------/----===|=======\=------\1 Marz
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Kentou 0/-------/----===|
COMBATSYS: Alma dodges Frei's Reiki.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////// ]
Alma 0/-------/----===|=======\=------\1 Marz
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Kentou 0/-------/----===|
COMBATSYS: Kentou dodges Frei's Reiki.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////// ]
Alma 0/-------/----===|=======\=------\1 Marz
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Kentou 0/-------/----===|
COMBATSYS: Frei successfully hits Marz with Reiki.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ]
Alma 0/-------/----===|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2 Marz
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Kentou 0/-------/----===|
Alma's fists slam into Frei with a vengeance, a moment after Kentou weathers the storm of that attack. Yet he quickly realizes through the fury singing his consciousness that there was no defense to crush; though the might of his strikes was buoyed unprecedentedly by his passion for this goal, he might as well have closed his eyes. Frei is enraptured by the power overflowing with him, and Alma stumbles back as both his and Kentou's strikes meet in the center, their opposing forces smashing into the monk simultaneously. The usually poised model staggers and falls back into a sitting position, his eyes widening and shoulders trembling as he sees and feels the intensity of the energy surging there.
He does not fear what may happen to him.
"Frei..."
He fears what may happen to his friend.
"Frei!"
Helpless to stop this sequence, every power at his disposal useless to him, Alma can only watch in awe and terror as the universe has its way with his dear ally. Choking, mind a blur, a tear trickles down the beautiful youth's cheek, his senses now utterly overwhelmed by the blinding vortex before him. He believed, he truly believed, that he could save Frei, that he could bring him back from the brink of infinity. But in this moment he cannot imagine that anything will be left.
This is the end.
"FREI!!"
He failed.
"Gguhh... gggaaahhh!"
Sobbing unintelligibly, forgetting all else, Alma slumps forward onto his knees, gazing through teary eyes as the energy before him reaches a tremulous peak, unable to bring himself to turn away from Frei's ultimate fate.
'Run.'
Wha--
Frei--
That voice is all he needs.
A surge of hope reignites his dying spirit; it brings with it a surge of adrenaline. Leaping as though he has suddenly grown wings, Alma hurls himself away from the focal point of the blast, outracing just barely the shockwave of power as he hits the ground hard, rolling across dust and concrete as the chi pursuing him fades into the ground like seawater on the shore.
"Haa... haa... Fr... Frei...!"
Perceptions dazed by emotion and the aftereffect of the attack, Alma refuses to rest; though half-blind, he crawls across the ground toward the crater that has been formed, dragging his still-stunned body toward where his friend has fallen. Unable to speak, breathless with shock and relief, Alma pulls himself to Frei's fallen form and kneels there as he gathers that bloodied body close.
Thank goodness.
Finally...
They're together again.
COMBATSYS: Alma takes no action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ]
Alma 0/-------/----===|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2 Marz
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Kentou 0/-------/----===|
Kentou had given his all. And more.
From that powerful volley, Kentou recovers in mid-air. Completing the blast-jump with an acrobatic flip.. The youth lands squarely on his feet a good distance away.
...Only to immediately fall to his knees. Blood splattering on the ground, lungs desperately gasping for air. Trembling fingers gripping the filthy street for balance. That fight.. It took every second of training that he had. Kentou reached a new level ... Managing to combine all of his learned skills into a new technique he had long considered.. But never thought in his wildest dreams he could master. Not until desperation drove him to it.
Not until Frei's freedom was on the line.
Needing that moment to recover, the boy's teeth grit. Forcing his exhausted body to obey, pushing himself to his feet yet again in a jerky motion. Wide eyes darting immediately to Frei.. to ascertain his fate along with that of Alma's so close to the blast.
Oh Frei.. Why.. Why did this happen?
Alma's cry is heart-wrenching. An emotive mirror of the heartbreak Kentou himself feels... They had to do this. They -had- to.
All Kentou can hope.. All he can pray.. Is that this was the right thing to do.
A split instant. Frei's eyes come into focus. Kentou's vision connects with the Monk's own. His mentor, not the vile obscenity he had become, gives him one more lesson.
'Run.'
Kentou -vaults- away. Leaping with all the remaining might left to him. Launching himself into the sky, tucking his arms close and twisting through the air with a gymnast's grace even as the shock-wave chases after him. The distance of Kentou's previously launched attack and Frei's warning gives him all the distance he needed. Not nearly as close to the expanding wave as the Sacred Director was.. Easily landing on his feet a dozen paces further and away.
Unbidden, joy brightens Kentou's blooded face. A short, haggard laugh escapes him. It was -Frei-! He found his way out again.. Alma saved him! Alma did it!
Oh... Ooooh thank the heavens above!
Kentou darts across the distance swiftly, racing over to Alma's side to overlook the fallen Frei closely. His hand gripping the Radiant Savior's shoulder firmly, but only in passing.
There's one more loose end here.
Kentou's vision instantly seeks out the manipulative Doll. Not immediately certain if she survived the blast.. Peering through the settling dust, his attentions dart hither and yon..
..When he finds her....
COMBATSYS: Kentou takes no action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ]
Alma 0/-------/----===|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2 Marz
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Kentou 0/-------/----===|
There is one good thing to be said about painful explosions. You so rarely remember them in graphic detail when they are over.
For Marz, the last few moments of the fight will forever be a confusing blur of shouting, being slammed against the pavement, explosions, and energy. Frei's final move is an astounding display, and one which, on some detached level, she rationalizes; SIN had obviously overstepped the limits of their technology. They hadn't perfected anything, they'd just gotten something that looked pretty, but in the field, broke down and did so in a dramatic and explosive fashion.
Literally.
Marz dives for cover, it's all she can really do, but, alas, there is no cover to be found. She is frantic. The girl had only one purpose in life. It was not a complicated one. She lived only to further the ends of Lord Vega, but, at every turn, in every step, she was thwarted. If she was a more emotional girl, tears of frustration might color those eyes. But, she is not. There is no emotion, here. There is no wishing or wanting, or doubt. There is only a wall of invisible force that swiftly threatens to overwhelm her... and her failure to avoid just that fate.
It's almost poetic. Marz is flung into the air by the force of the blast, far more the literal doll than she had ever really been since gifted with that title, and she impacts one of the abandoned buildings. The girl who had led him into battle is destroyed by him in the final moments of the battle. The impact... had been a /wet/ one. Marz simply is not strong enough to survive a blast like that. Her body completes a graceful spiral, and, in the end, comes to rest collapsed against the building, her head broken, blood trickling down her features as rubble floats down over the unconscious girls body.
Contact with Shadaloo: Lost.
Mission status: Failure.
COMBATSYS: Marz takes no action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Alma 0/-------/----===|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Kentou 0/-------/----===|
COMBATSYS: Marz can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Alma 0/-------/----===|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Kentou 0/-------/----===|
Log created on 14:58:08 04/10/2009 by Alma, and last modified on 12:48:00 04/12/2009.