237. The Twice-lit War (Part 3)

  The boss had expended its flashy opener. And now, it was time for the Wayfarers to fight back.

  Both Tidereigners took to the task with gusto, oblivious to the nestled ‘duel’ between the two outrealmers in their midst. Gladiolus the gentle surgeon sent [Dissection] and [Transection] heavenward, quartering the very air. Travertine, the best version of himself who’d fully embraced solitude, went right back to slinging golden fireballs into the sky.

  But VOIDLING the cheat dodged everything. All with lazy, mocking twirls on its lotus-white cloud. Now that the challengers had begun to fight back, nothing amused the boss more than making them spin their wheels.

  Serac too cycled her chambers, though without much hope of landing hits. The problem, of course, was gun-REVOLVER’s six-shooter range. A firm limitation she’d overcome on exactly one occasion, all the way back in Naraka—and at the absolute, battle-crazed zenith of self-affirmation.

  Be that as it might, Serac didn’t mean for her efforts to go to waste. With every hopeless shot, she willed her Cartridges to fly higher and farther—to exceed their grasp, as it were. Monkey see, monkey do. Fake it ’til you make it.

  Or, in this case, ’til you’ve cycled back to Chamber Three. That crucible of duality where a soul learned to be one with herself, or died trying. I’ll show you who’s the impostor!

  But as Serac readied to squeeze the trigger, she first had to squeeze her eyes. The headache, already as bad as it’d ever been, had somehow gotten worse.

  She didn’t have to feel around her skull to understand what had happened. Because the sensation was all too familiar. It was, indeed, the earliest memory in her life and no one else’s. The Circlet had regrown itself in full. A crown of fine, metallic filaments that had always been a part of her anatomy. Her identity.

  Arms trembled. Knees weakened. But Serac blinked away the pain and stood firm. No! She screamed into the void within her core. I’m better than this. I’m stronger than this. I refuse to kneel to anyone, least of all to my self!

  [REVOLVER Spell secondary transmutation: HAIR TO HAIR -> VOIDSHOT]

  Serac, eyes cleared of all doubt, followed through with her principles of marksmanship. Along the way, she remembered to piggyback off her allies. Aim for the ‘safest’ quarter-SKY left by Gladiolus. Lock onto VOIDLING as it dodged Travertine’s slingshot. Then fire.

  [Chamber Three: VOIDSHOT—activated]

  [VOIDSHOT: GRASP]

  [MP: 37 -> 34]

  At the cost of 3 MP, the Cartridge underwent a one-time modification.

  [Voidshot: Grasp] kicked things off with the simplest of modifers. Pure range extension, turning the humble six-shooter into a bona fide hunting rifle. The bullet flew true, high, and far, hitting VOIDLING in its cackling face to the tune of [290!].

  The cackle stopped short into a high-pitched yelp. VOIDLING spun rapidly in place, clearly startled. But it composed itself just as quickly, calling back the mocking laughter to prove it hadn’t been fazed. As if to say: so you actually know how to hit things with that toy of yours. Well, don’t think it’ll work again!

  “Oh, but it will.”

  [VOIDSHOT: GRASPING WATER]

  [MP: 34 -> 28]

  Two modifiers for the price of two. Serac fired. VOIDLING cloud-danced—merely one extra thing to dodge. But then the bullet bent and whipped mid-flight, refusing to ease off its target!

  [290!]

  “Ha!”

  Serac couldn’t help but laugh in triumph and pure joy. The outburst needed no translation, but Trippy translated it anyway. Surgeon and patient paused their endeavors, to stare at their unlikely ally in bemused amazement.

  Even VOIDLING took a moment to reassess. When it resumed its dancing, its cackle took on a menacing edge. Everything was still fun and games, but it was also time to up the ante.

  [Forma Four: THE AXE FORGETS]

  Mace-REVOLVER whipped about in a defensive flurry, along with another splash of ink. Metal. This time, the ink manifested real, physical weapons—everything from sword to spear to halberd to, of course, axe. The entire arsenal orbited the maceman as a dense nebula of perfect defense: VOIDLING’s second cheat in as many clouds.

  With apologies to her ‘local guides’, Serac elected to hold fire. To watch and learn. Whether knowingly or not, the Tidereigners obliged. Gladiolus cut up the SKY, Travertine flung slingshots. Their attacks only glanced off the [Axe] formation… all while VOIDLING lay down on its floating cloud and picked its nose!

  I need a hard-hitter. Serac understood implicitly. Something to weaken the defenses at a single point of impact. Something to Poise-break the [Axe] formation and reach through to the asshole inside it!

  Serac had watched and learned. Not just from her local guides, but also from her own shadow.

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  [VOIDSHOT: GRASPING STONE]

  [MP: 28 -> 20]

  3 MP for the [Grasp]-ing extender, plus another 5 MP for the [Stone]-turned exclamation mark! Serac fired the heaviest bullet of her life, nearly losing her footing from the sheer recoil.

  VOIDLING sensed the danger, but a fraction too late. By the time it pulled its finger out of its nose—trailing shadow-boogers as it did—Serac’s [Stone] had already landed in the center of the [Axe] formation. The spinning weapons, Poise-broken, collapsed in on each other, thereby exposing VOIDLING to—

  [145!]

  —[Stone]’s concussive AOE!

  The maceman hurriedly danced out of the way, showing signs of losing control. Serac’s allies pounced on the opportunity, finally getting on the board in the damage department. Travertine landed a [Hunter’s] slingshot to the tune of [350!], while Gladiolus lopped off VOIDLING’s left arm for an additional [328!]—a cut so clean it didn’t even bleed shadows.

  Just like that, VOIDLING’s Health was down to the last two-fifths—about 1,000 HP by Serac’s rough estimate. The tide had well and truly turned. Perhaps thanks in large part to the enemy’s careless arrogance, but the Wayfarers weren’t about to complain. They could only smite what was in front of them.

  Finally, even the cackles ceased. VOIDLING’s face remained a shadow-veiled mask, but the change to its attitude was all too palpable. Playtime was over. Time to kill or be killed.

  [Forma Six: SPLITTING HAIRS]

  When the notification first appeared, it gave Serac false hope. Wrong move, buddy. Double the target means double the chance to hit. This fight’s as good as over! Alas, Serac should’ve known better than to underestimate a fellow Upheaver.

  One Ksana, a splash of ink wrote out the symbol for void. Next, VOIDLING’s shadow-wrought clones filled the entire SKY.

  Forget double, quadruple, octuple, or any variant of -uple anyone could think of. VOIDLING exceeded all expectations, [Splitting] into as many copies as there were shadowy [Hairs] on its body. And every mini-LING rode a mini-cloud, wielded a mini-mace, and commanded the Six Formas of its mini-REVOLVER.

  [Forma One: EXCEED THY—

  [Forma Two: BE THOU AS—

  [Forma Three: NO STONE—

  [Forma One—

  [Forma Two—

  [Forma—

  …

  Entangling vines. Tsunamis. Earthquakes. And through it all, hundreds of polemaces shapeshifting and whipping about the place. Each felt like a tickle—meant to make you laugh rather than bleed. Yet the tickles were legion. And in their combined multitude, they were impossible to evade or mitigate.

  [1,], [1], [1], [1],[1],[1],[1][1][1][1[1[1[[[…

  All three Wayfarers reeled in place, paralyzed under the sheer Attack-check overload. Their Health drained slowly but surely, as did their Poise. Serac, having started at a significant deficit, raced rapidly toward death.

  There are hundreds of targets, but they’re all too small to aim at! Serac rued her earlier smugness. If only I could gather them into one group. Like how Renna might corral the ripples. Like how Zacko might manipulate aggro…

  Inspiration hit. Had been inside her all along. Serac Edin might hold a void in the core of her being, but she meant to fill it with anything and everything she touched on her rampaging Path.

  She’d watched and she’d learned. Not just from her loyal companions. But also from her own, pyromaniac shadow.

  [VOIDSHOT: ASH]

  [MP: 20 -> 15]

  It mattered not where the bullet landed. All she needed was to set off some fireworks. A question posed to the masses. Rile them up and draw their aggro onto a single target. Herself.

  The mini-Lings tasted their own medicine and took the bait. To a one, they answered the call, putting their tiny hands up and shouting: pick me, pick me! They massed into a lurching ball of sheer destructive potential—VOIDLING’s third cheat in as many clouds.

  And a much easier target to aim at.

  [VOIDSHOT: HAIR]

  [MP: 15 -> 7]

  Once upon a Sloth-smiting escapade, Serac had watched Trav (Trav in my timeline) purposefully ‘miss’ his slingshots, such that the rock would split into shrapnel. She’d watched and mused idly then. Wouldn’t it be nice if she could replicate the same trick with REVOLVER?

  Well, she got her wish. The bullet, fired out of a humble six-shooter, had nevertheless become a shotgun shell. It [Hair]-split into a dozen pellets, each one catching multiple targets within the mini-LING cloud.

  [24!], [24!], [24!],[24!],[24!][24!][24![24![2[2[[…

  Every hit was a scratch—meant to wound rather than outright smite. But the scratches were legion. And their combined multitude proved to be the smiting blow(s, x100).

  For one moment, the mini-LINGs lingered. Clumping, swirling and swishing in an effort to regain their original shape.

  It was a partial success. The maceman’s mouth reappeared on its own—a yawning, sneering VOID in the middle of the SKY. It widened as if to suck in anything and everything around it.

  But, in the end, it only managed to laugh. VOIDLING’s final message—addressed to the past, present, and future—echoed across the battlefield. One last cackle. One last mocking challenge to all souls and the foolish [Ambitions] they hid in their hearts.

  Well, at least one fool had no intention to hide her [Ambitions]. Serac Edin raised a battle-worn arm to point a finger into the fractured heavens.

  What now, Keeper? How’s that for Absolution? And screw you too, name-obsessed Deva who didn’t even give your name. Mind your own business and leave our Paths alone!

  Man, beast, soul, shadow, god, or even self. Serac cared not who would stand in her way. Her Path was hers to tread. Her Circlet was hers to bear. And if she should leave a trail of Upheavals in her wake, then… so be it.

  For this was who she was. Never say ‘no’ to the thrills and spills on her Path, when she could say ‘hell yes’ instead. Bring it all on. I can take it.

  [Avowment Target smited: VOIDLING]

  [REALM USURPER SMITED]

  [Waystation Privilege awarded. Current charge: 1]

  [242,462 ?]

  [Trinket acquired: SERAC’S CIRCLET]

  three times (and in three different dimensions too!)

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  P.S. I haven't forgotten about [Voidshot: Axe]. I look forward to showing it off at some point, but couldn't quite find a place for it in this scene.

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