Aetheral Space

Five minutes.

The moment those words left his mouth, Atoy Muzazi turned on his heel -- and fled, thrusters blazing from his back and propelling him down towards the city. His body was still battered, but it seemed he'd managed to muster up some measure of resolve within himself. He was the kind of man who wouldn't give up until you killed him, then.

That was fine. Mereloco had no problem killing him.

Still, there were concerns. The syringe Muzazi had injected him with, for one. He could feel his strength and stamina surging, but he sincerely doubted that Atoy Muzazi would have gone to such lengths to boost his opponents power. In five minutes, there would no doubt be some kind of side-effect: one that Muzazi believed would win him the fight.

In that case, it was just as Muzazi had said. Mereloco would have to end this before five minutes passed.

Unchained.

After using Unthroned for that brief moment, the Untoward that Mereloco had used on the arena had lost much of its potency. More and more of the structure crumbled out of the sky each moment, and the process of destruction was inevitable now. In that case, he'd just make use of the remains.

Unchained crushed the remnants into a more firm structure beneath Mereloco's feet, around the size of a truck -- and he reached out, gripping two stray wires like the reins of a chariot. The whole construct blazed with purple Aether. Atoy Muzazi wasn't the only one who could conquer the sky, after all.

Unchained.

Like a bullet, Mereloco's steed was launched right towards the shrinking swordsman.

Two Hundred Years Ago…

Noelath was all but fallen.

Mereloco watched, his expression impassive, as the defenses of the city collapsed beneath him. It had only been an hour since Damon had begun his assault on the capital, and in that time they'd already reached the endgame of the invasion. Pathetic.

This truly was a planet of weaklings.

A nearby tower fell, looking like the battlement of a metal castle, and Mereloco's steed moved to avoid it. These creatures had long ago been crafted by the Gene Tyrants to aid in transporting their servants across the surface of Noelath, and they still did their job well. The Windwaver, with the appearance of a massive flying manta ray, rode the air currents that coursed across Noelath’s surface -- taking Mereloco with it.

His arms were crossed and his balance perfect as the Windwaver took up a new position. Right now, Mereloco's job was simply to wait. Damon had already proceeded into the base that the leader of the remaining insurgents, a peasant woman styled the Hexpa, had been using. This would be over soon, with that woman becoming a mere spray of blood on the floor. He'd be surprised if it even took ten more minutes.

So he waited, for the sight he already knew he would see. The troops below would take care of the rest.

It was nearly two hours before Damon emerged from the central spire of the castle, with the Hepxa walking alongside him. Mereloco raised an eyebrow at the sight.

Had the planet surrendered? That was surprising. Noelath was one of the Borderworlds -- the long strip of unaligned territories between the Supremacy and the UAP. They were too proud to submit to the Supremacy, and too proud to join the UAP. Mereloco couldn't imagine what Damon had done to change the Hepxa’s mind, but he knew it couldn't have been pretty.

But…

…now that he looked, the Hexpa seemed to be unharmed. That in itself was bizarre. She was small and weak, thin, with pale hair and bleary red eyes. She looked like a stiff breeze would do her harm.

What was her name? Zoe? How had she come out of there without so much as a bruise? Mereloco furrowed his brow in confusion.

As if they'd sensed his confusion, Damon and Zoe looked up as one -- addressing the gathered warriors of the Supremacy watching from above on their Windwavers. His hand clasped with hers, Damon called out:

“The battle is over! There is to be no more bloodshed! The Hexpa and I…”

Mereloco narrowed his eyes as the two below glanced at each other. They exchanged a nod.

“...we are to be wed!”

Huh?

Present Day…

Four minutes.

Pinpoint applications of Unchained controlled the chariot that Mereloco had crafted, governing its flight through the streets of Azum-Ha. Traffic swerved to avoid him as he pursued Atoy Muzazi, more than one car scraping or slamming into a nearby building as a result. Mereloco paid them no mind.

Right now, the entirety of his focus was on the distant white dot that was Atoy Muzazi. He pointed a steady finger in the Full Moon's direction.

“Unworthy.”

A volley of gravity bullets surged forth -- but, the very instant Mereloco fired them, Muzazi began to zip and weave through the air, dodging the linear projectiles with mere centimeters to spare. Mereloco clicked his tongue. It seemed Muzazi's attention was deadlocked onto him, too.

Mereloco considered his situation.

What was the best move here? Right now, Muzazi was faster, but he was still battling grievous injuries. This rush of adrenaline could only do so much for him. He'd slow down. But would he slow down enough within the next four minutes? Mereloco couldn't gamble on that.

Unchained.

As he split an incoming automatic truck in half, Mereloco weighed his options. How could he make Muzazi stop sooner? How could he make the Full Moon turn around? There had to be a way. This was a fool ruled by sentiment.

Yes… sentiment.

Mereloco put a finger to his ear.

“Woman,” he said to the one on the other end. “Which hospital is Morgan Nacht staying in?”

Two Hundred Years Ago…

Usually, Mereloco would not have questioned Damon's decisions. It wasn't just that it wasn't Mereloco's place. In the past, he'd simply never wanted to question them. The notion of it never even interested him.

But this absurdity… he couldn't just ignore it.

“Is this something she offered you?” Mereloco asked, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed. “In exchange for her life, she said she'd marry you?”

They were in Damon's private quarters on the Amun-Ra, the Supreme's flagship. Through the windows, the surface of Noelath could be seen -- the planet that was meant to have been pulled into the Supremacy. Now, apparently, it was to remain independent.

Damon looked up at him from his throne. The trials of supremacy had visibly taken their toll over the last few months: heavy bags under his eyes and a pallor to his skin. Even his black horns seemed to droop a little.

“As I said,” he sighed. “I spoke to Zoe about the present situation, and we agreed it wasn't sustainable. As partners, we can move together to a new future. A better future.”

Mereloco nodded slowly. “So… where are we invading instead, then?”

A strange look passed over Damon's face, and when he spoke he looked away. “Mere,” he said slowly. “Do you ever feel like… there's something wrong with this world?”

Mereloco frowned. “Noelath?”

“No, no,” Damon shook his head. “The galaxy, the whole world… the -- the shape of it, I guess. Like there's something so wrong about it, but I can't put it into words. It's not that the machine is broken… but the machine was wrong to begin with, right from the blueprints. Do you get what I mean?”

Mereloco considered the question for a good long while, scratching his cheek. This conversation in itself was unusual. Damon wouldn't normally consult Mereloco on decisions like this, or seek outside opinions at all. Damon was the one who made choices.

He led, and Mereloco followed. Life was more comfortable that way.

But… if he really needed Mereloco's opinion for this…

“You want to change something?” Mereloco finally replied. He shrugged. “Then change it.”

Damon nodded, almost frantically, a broad grin spreading across his face.

“You're the Supreme, after all,” Mereloco continued. “You have that right.”

The grin vanished.

Present Day…

Three minutes.

“Terknil Hospital!” Mereloco roared at the top of his lungs, voice bolstered by Aether. “Run if you want, Atoy Muzazi!”

They both turned at the same time -- Mereloco in the direction of the hospital, and Muzazi in the direction of Mereloco. The bait had worked. In an instant, Muzazi blazed his thrusters like never before, rushing towards Mereloco at a speed beyond his maximum. Narrowing his eyes, Mereloco extended a flat hand in the direction of his incoming opponent.

Sentiment… every time.

Two Hundred Years Ago…

“If we don't do this carefully,” Damon said. “It'll mean civil war, or maybe even something worse. There's no telling how people will respond.”

He was hunched over a holographic map of Supremacy territory, miniature planets and stars spread out before him. His face was locked in concentration, eyes flicking from one system to the next, as if some secret miracle existed there if only he could spot it. Even if that were true, he clearly wasn't finding anything. His hands tightened on the console.

The woman with him, the former Hexpa of Noelath, put a gentle hand on his forearm.

“You're respected by the warrior class,” she said softly, her own red eyes looking down at the map as well. “Some at least will follow you, even if they don't agree with what you're doing.”

“But how many?” Damon sighed. “Enough to fight off the ones who don't agree?”

The Hexpa considered her words for a moment before speaking again. “I… I don't think there's a perfect version of what we're doing here. No matter what we do… it'll be messy. The best we can hope for is eventual peace and joy… for all mankind.”

Damon took in a deep breath. “I suppose you're right. We either do something, or things stay like this forever. The things I saw as a kid… they'll just keep happening, again and again, forever. The shape of this world makes it inevitable.”

“Then that shape is what we'll break.”

They'd been talking for a while now, enough for Mereloco to piece together exactly what they intended. His heart thumped in his chest like a dull bell.

A new edict was to be declared by the office of the Supreme. It was to give each and every system within the Supremacy the right to secede and declare their independence without challenge or retribution. Even the weakest could act without fear. As if that chaos wasn't bad enough, the Supremacy as a whole could take no action against their new neighbors for at least two-hundred years.

As he stood outside the door, eavesdropping on this absurdity, Mereloco glared daggers into the wall before him. This would be the end of the Supremacy, without a doubt. If this happened, the nation would crumble away into nothing -- not by being defeated by a stronger enemy, as was proper, but by their leader giving up.

Mereloco had never been one for the dogma of the Supremacy, but this was beyond the pale.

Something had to be done.

Present Day…

Two minutes.

Mereloco fought against an irritating fly.

Atoy Muzazi had clearly realized from their earlier bout that he couldn't hope to withstand another one of Mereloco's hits, and so he had switched tactics entirely. Rather than darting in and out for attacks as he'd done before, he was now staying just outside of Mereloco's range -- far enough away that the Full Moon could dodge any attacks that were launched, but close enough that Mereloco couldn't turn to head to the hospital.

It only made sense. If Mereloco's assumptions were correct, Muzazi no longer needed to land any hits. In two minutes time, whatever substance Mereloco had been injected with would begin to turn against him.

In short, he needed to end this fight within two minutes. Under these circumstances, there was only one way to do that. Ordinarily, Mereloco wouldn't have been able to use this twice in one day… Muzazi would surely regret giving him that strength.

Mereloco reached out… and seized the world.

“Unthroned.”

Two Hundred Years Ago…

Mereloco glared as the two of them marched down the aisle, hand in hand.

Mereloco glared as the two of them exchanged vows of white noise.

Mereloco glared as the two of them danced, smiled, laughed.

And Mereloco glared as, hours later, he silently stepped into Zoe's quarters.

His ears twitched. Bells could still be heard in the distance. Soon enough, they would surely hold a new meaning.

Mereloco quietly closed the door behind him.

Zoe looked up from the window. The pale woman had been staring out at the landscape of Hepal, at the pale orange fields stretching out as far as the eye could see. This was the landscape Damon had given her for this farce of a wedding. It was far better than she deserved. The parasite had eaten its fill.

“Mere,” she said, a half-remembered grin still on her face. “What is it? Did Damon send you?”

Mereloco's eyes narrowed at the nickname -- that, and his lack of response, seemed to clue Zoe in. Her own eyes widened just a fraction, and she carefully clasped her hands on her lap. In the distance, bells continued to ring.

“Are you here to kill me?” she asked.

“Yes.” He took a step closer.

There was little need for conversation here. He had no intention of changing his mind, and she surely understood that as well. This was not a difficult thing for him. It entailed the same level of effort as cleaning his boots.

Still, the woman talked.

“Did the Shepherdess send you?” she asked.

Mereloco furrowed his brow. “Who?”

Zoe closed her eyes. “So it wasn't Ruri, then… may I ask who did send you? The Body? The Tree?”

“Nobody sent me,” Mereloco snapped, a sliver of irritation entering his voice for the first time. “I'm doing this because I want to.”

“So I've offended you somehow.” Even now, her voice was soft, bordering on apologetic. That just made Mereloco's blood boil more. One should not be so courteous to their murderer.

“You're in the way,” Mereloco growled, looming over her. “You're causing trouble. Filling Damon's head with stupid shit.”

She smiled sadly. “You found out.”

“Damon worked for years to get where he is,” Mereloco seethed. “He's beaten down everything in his way, and he's been beaten down. He's given everything to become Supreme -- and you're gonna make him throw it all away? No. I won't let you.”

“Do you think he's happy?”

“What?”

“Do you think Damon is happy?” Zoe repeated. “Do you think becoming Supreme made him happy? Has he ever seemed happy to you?”

Today.

“He doesn't need to be happy,” Mereloco grunted. “He's the strongest.”

Zoe spoke up with more fire than he'd expected from her. “And what is that worth? You're the strongest -- so what?! It's meaningless. A crown you convince yourself was worth it all. You tear everything away from yourself to reach the top… and when you do, you realize not a second of it was worth anything.”

Mereloco sneered. “Don't try to talk your way out of this, woman.”

She looked up at him -- calmly, with the eyes of someone who knew what would happen next. “You can't understand, can you?” Her voice was full of strange sympathy.

“What?”

“You don't get what I'm talking about. You can't. This world… the machine's ruined you.” She smiled softly. “Damon's told me a little of your story. I get it. There's no room inside you to think about the world, is there? It's been starved out of you.”

“Keep talking, and I will kill you.”

Zoe closed her eyes. “I've already accepted you'll kill me.”

Mereloco raised an eyebrow. “You won't try to run?”

“There's no point,” Zoe whispered. “You want to hurt me, and I don't want to hurt you. There's only one way this ends.”

Mereloco's eye twitched. As if this woman could ever hurt him. As if anyone could.

As je took his final step forward, Zoe opened her eyes again, looking up at him, her red gaze resolute. “Do you really think this will make Damon happy?”

“He'll understand.”

Mereloco's fist came down.

Once, twice, three times… each time with the force of a sledgehammer, each time cracking bone and sending blood spraying onto the walls. He worked fast -- the guards were already on their way. Just three hits, and the woman was already a broken mess on the ground.

A hollow rattling filled the air. If the woman wasn't already dead, she soon would be. This was the extent of what her words had been capable of. Weak.

Mereloco went to turn away…

…but then, he saw it.

His eyes widened. His mouth went dry. His fists unclenched, gore spilling out.

He could see one of Zoe's hands where she'd fallen -- and, from this angle, he could see her nails. He could see underneath her nails. He could see the sheathed claws she'd kept concealed until the very end, deadly sharp and venomous. He could see her Killing Engine.

Inimant.

Mereloco's legs began to shake, and soon enough they collapsed beneath him, sending him to his knees. This woman had been an Inimant. This woman had been a killing machine. With the slightest scratch, with the barest effort, she could have ended his life.

This world was survival of the fittest. Truly, Mereloco cared nothing for the dogma of the Supremacy, but he had believed that, at least. And yet… here… the fittest had closed its eyes and accepted its end. Until the moment it had vanished, it had kept its claws sheathed.

It didn't make any sense.

There was more. An Inimant was cursed with the instinct to kill, to mutilate, to slaughter… how much willpower must it have taken to go an entire lifetime without spilling blood? How much must it have taken not even to defend oneself? There was strength there. There was strength there that Mereloco couldn't understand.

He realized that tears were streaming down his face. He didn't know why.

You don't get what I'm talking about. You can't.

Yes… he had never cared about the dogma of the Supremacy, had he? He admitted that freely. So why was he here? Why had he done this? It wasn't for the Supremacy or the honour of the Supreme or any of that bullshit. Why had he killed this woman?

She'd been turning his friend into someone else, and his friend was the only thing he had. That was it. Jealousy.

Everything else… had been starved out of him.

By the time the guards came, Mereloco was blind to the world. His fists covered in blood, he knelt down on the carpet, allowing himself to be taken. The body of the Supreme's bride was taken away as well.

Rumour went that, while she was being treated -- fruitlessly -- the bride had reached out and taken the arm of her doctor.

Rumour went that a surge of Aether had flowed through one arm and into another, her body crumbling into dust.

Rumour went that the doctor fled the planet the same day.

But Mereloco had no time for rumours. He was confined, stewing in his own thoughts -- thoughts he did not understand. It took a long while before Damon came to see him.

And the worst part?

Damon did understand.

“I hope you wake in a kinder world than this.”

Present Day…

One minute.

Mereloco held the void.

There was no way that Unthroned was an actual black hole. The amount of power needed to create and control such a thing would be absurd. If Mereloco was capable of such a feat, he'd be on a level far beyond Supreme. So it wasn't an actual black hole.

But it certainly looked the part.

Mereloco’s hand was gripped like a claw towards Muzazi, flayed and bloody from the pressure -- and floating before it was an orb of absence. It devoured everything -- the automatics, the walls, the passing trucks, even light itself. Muzazi was pushing against it with all the force his thrusters could generate, but even so he was slowly… slowly… slowly being dragged in.

Thirty seconds.

But that was alright. He’d already made preparations. When he’d initially fled from Mereloco, he’d planted the pillars of Radiant Almighty in his path -- and when Mereloco had forced him to return, he’d absorbed the energy they’d generated. He had Almighty ready to go.

Fifteen seconds.

But he had to wait for his moment. He’d been timing this situation carefully in his mind. If he fired off Radiant now, he had no doubt it would be devoured by this monstrosity -- by Unthroned. He’d only get one shot at this. He had to make it count.

Seven seconds.

So… at the very moment the five minutes were up… at the very instant the agony descended… he would fire. He’d end this battle with one blow. Right as Unthroned disappeared, Muzazi would blast through the space it had occupied.

Three seconds.

But…

Two seconds.

...Atoy Muzazi…

One second.

…had not noticed.

His plan had been doomed from the outset. No matter how vicious the pain inflicted by Embolden, it didn’t matter. To the man called Mereloco, it wouldn’t even qualify as a mosquito bite.

When his eyes had been burnt, Mereloco had not flinched.

When his hands had been charred, Mereloco had not flinched.

When his foot had been mangled, Mereloco had not flinched.

These were not the results of stoicism or willpower. This was something far more primal, far more esoteric… and far more insurmountable. This was something that would bring all of Atoy Muzazi’s plans to ruin.

Mereloco’s Aether tic was pain nullification.

Zero.

“Radiant Almighty!”

The beam of light shot forth, and was devoured by the darkness.

Mereloco did not flinch.