Her experiences during Dante’s Abyss seemed to start taking on a bit of pattern. Sophia, naturally, failed to notice this until her collar beeped at her again, interrupting her hope filled fantasies of eating or taking a shower or both, if the correct situation presented itself. However, things had fallen back into the mundane—the combat day was upon them once again, and once again, fear and panic streaked across their faces as the realization began to dawn upon them that the moment they shared before they were taken away could be their last. The deaths were fake, Sophia had gathered, but the spirit was all but the same. Blood, digital or otherwise, was to be on their hands. It already was.
The teleportation happened unassumingly, as it always had. One moment, the ice hybrid sat before her, smiling at her in her own bashful way, and the next she was staring straight at the sun as it rose to take its rightful place overhead, beaming down on what could very well have been her last breath in this life. She recoiled, her blue eyes forced to roll back into her head as the dazzling blaze burned its image into her eyes, at least for a time. Squinting, she turned back around, hoping that her eyesight could recover before the fight was to begin. Through the colorful haze that the sun’s light pierced into her vision, she saw a figure standing across from her.
It was…odd, to say the least, what he was doing. Although she could only see him outlined around the colored splotches in her vision, she could tell that he was basically stripping right in front of her. She frowned and raised an eyebrow at once, pondering the reasons behind such an action. It was true that the game had offered its fair share of strange actions and reactions, and it was equally true that she had her own strange tales to tell from her experience. But why anyone would start taking clothes off when staring danger in the face was beyond her comprehension at the time. Maybe he was just dirty—looking at her own clothes, either tattered from wear or muddied by the elements, she wasn’t much of a prize herself.
Her vex had faded, and sight slowly weaved its way back into fully working function. The man’s feature’s became more apparent: locks of reddish-orange hair fell down past dark eyes, and the way he slouched and brooded belied a surprisingly fit physique. Her eye slits tightened as she examined him more closely—perhaps this man was in need of a shower even more than she had been, judging by the variety of scrapes and bruises, as well as blood and mud stains, that speckled his body. When her eyes finally met his face once again, she found that he was examining her as well, though likely in a very different way judging by the sound he had made.
Suddenly, his entire countenance—his facial expression, his posture, everything—changed as he fell to his knees and cried, “Alice!?”
Sophia blinked. Peculiar, creepy, and crazy. Wonderful. If she was following a three-strikes-and-out rule, then he was most definitely “out.” He inched his way closer, leaning in as his eyes desperately scanned her own, trying to determine something that he hadn’t thought of before. He seemed inexplicably happy upon seeing her, for some reason, as if his second examination of the priestess had been his first. She knew she was good at lifting people’s spirits, but she didn’t know she was that good.
Then, another change occurred. He didn’t look quite as happy.
“No…” he said through clinched teeth. In fact, he seemed pretty angry about something. He shook his head violently, shaking as he flexed every muscle he was aware of, and reached behind his back. What an odd man, she thought, though all speculation was dashed as she realized what the orange-haired man had actually reached for. She was now staring down the rather long barrel of a pistol, and for a time, she didn’t know what to do. Nobody had ever pointed a gun at her before, and though she knew that a well-aimed beam of ki was likely more a threat than a bullet, she froze in momentary fear. The healer saw his finger tighten around the trigger, and, unaware of any other valid reaction, ducked out of the way. The pistol recoiled in the wake of a deafening bang, and a bullet whizzed by her head, singeing a few stray blondes from the top as it spiraled by.
“I’m sorry,” he breathed as he raised another gun towards her. “This is not your fault.”
“What the heck are you talking abou--…” she was cut off by a barrage of other bullets as the man became trigger-happy, squeezing each trigger as if bullets weren’t even coming out. Sophia barely had time to react, and fell to the ground. A few pieces of ammunition clipped her on the sides of each arm as she plummeted, though any damage she received was purely aesthetical. Tears were streaming down his face at that point as it was obvious that he was just venting his frustration on the world—or, more specifically, Sophia.
The man was obviously insane, and the chances of her getting out of the fight lessened with each round he fired. Her heart sank as she looked upon a face that bore so much sorrow, so much shame, so much anger. She knew that his heart had been broken, and there was nothing left for him to do but fight, to cast himself into battle to either win or be beaten. Sophia closed her eyes as the loud blasts faded to dull clicks—the man’s situation wasn’t so far off of her own. With Kaden gone, there was little else for her to do but to just carry on until her time in this life had depleted. Knowing what that felt like…Sophia felt an obligation to the man.
They had to fight.
The orange-haired man stared into her eyes; they seemed hollowed out and empty. As the healer scurried to her feet, her opponent flipped the weapons in his hand so that his fingers were wrapped around the barrels. He wound his arms back and threw them like knives, end falling over end as the metallic objects spun their way towards her. Sophia’s eyes widened as she narrowly dodged one of them, but took the blunt of the other as it crashed into her shoulder blade. A sickening thud ensued, and her entire arm went numb.
His arms were still extended at this point, still moving around as if he was holding something. The healer almost overcome by confusion—it wasn’t beyond the realm of comprehension that he had just lost it and was making motions at random, perhaps fighting off invisible enemies. All the loose ends tied themselves together as she looked behind her shoulder to see the two guns still floating around, still under his telekinetic control. She shook her head—maybe she was in too deep. Powers like that were far more dangerous that most of what she had encountered in the past.
It simply came down to how hard he had to focus. Sophia had been static the entire fight, frozen in place as she tried to determine what the best course of action was. She needed to be on the offensive, although that was not something she had been used to. Clinching her fists and hoping that she was faster than his control.
It turned out that she was not. The pistols easily caught up with her, though her only saving element was his lag in reaction time. The weapons fell to the ground as the healer’s fist slammed into the man’s face, a quick jab that wasn’t powerful enough to floor him, but sufficient enough to stagger him. She moved quickly onward, placing her feet in-between his, and grabbed his throat. A familiar sensation flooded over her as his ki began to drain into hers. However, due to his fairly large supply, or perhaps overuse of her absorption ability, she was forced to stop before any meaningful harm was done.
The man punched upwards, forcing her hands from his neck, and kicked outward. Sophia skidded backwards and nearly stumbled backwards onto her backside. Her inability to finish at a crucial time was, to say the least, not pleasing. She wasn’t too good at being creative, but her dire situation forced her hand. Closing her eyes, she began to ponder her options. She couldn’t draw in enough energy to drain him, and judging by his ki supply and the power of his kick, she wouldn’t be able to out-duel him, either. She couldn’t draw energy in or out, but…her eyes snapped open.
What if she could do both?
She darted towards him again and swung wildly. Her fists missed their mark every time as his crazed eyes figured out their course long before they arrived. However, connecting was not the point—she needed to get close enough to touch him. Sophia lunged forward with outstretched arms, and grabbed him in a hug.
“What the hell is it all for!?” he suddenly cried, forcing her backwards. Tears had not stopped streaming out of their respective ducts since his breakdown. Sophia sighed—she knew that voice. She understood where it came from. The pain of loss was easy to recognize, and hard to forget. It always seemed so easy to just stop trying, to get away for a while and forget about what might have come from it. She glanced at the ki-draining seed she had planted on him as he reached into his pocket to grab more bullets and picked up his guns. That was her last ace up her sleeve—if that didn’t work, then her victory would be left up to chance. Neither of them could lose, though neither of them seemed to have anything to gain.
“Don’t give up,” she whispered. She could practically see his mind racing as it searched for a meaning.
The teleportation happened unassumingly, as it always had. One moment, the ice hybrid sat before her, smiling at her in her own bashful way, and the next she was staring straight at the sun as it rose to take its rightful place overhead, beaming down on what could very well have been her last breath in this life. She recoiled, her blue eyes forced to roll back into her head as the dazzling blaze burned its image into her eyes, at least for a time. Squinting, she turned back around, hoping that her eyesight could recover before the fight was to begin. Through the colorful haze that the sun’s light pierced into her vision, she saw a figure standing across from her.
It was…odd, to say the least, what he was doing. Although she could only see him outlined around the colored splotches in her vision, she could tell that he was basically stripping right in front of her. She frowned and raised an eyebrow at once, pondering the reasons behind such an action. It was true that the game had offered its fair share of strange actions and reactions, and it was equally true that she had her own strange tales to tell from her experience. But why anyone would start taking clothes off when staring danger in the face was beyond her comprehension at the time. Maybe he was just dirty—looking at her own clothes, either tattered from wear or muddied by the elements, she wasn’t much of a prize herself.
Her vex had faded, and sight slowly weaved its way back into fully working function. The man’s feature’s became more apparent: locks of reddish-orange hair fell down past dark eyes, and the way he slouched and brooded belied a surprisingly fit physique. Her eye slits tightened as she examined him more closely—perhaps this man was in need of a shower even more than she had been, judging by the variety of scrapes and bruises, as well as blood and mud stains, that speckled his body. When her eyes finally met his face once again, she found that he was examining her as well, though likely in a very different way judging by the sound he had made.
Suddenly, his entire countenance—his facial expression, his posture, everything—changed as he fell to his knees and cried, “Alice!?”
Sophia blinked. Peculiar, creepy, and crazy. Wonderful. If she was following a three-strikes-and-out rule, then he was most definitely “out.” He inched his way closer, leaning in as his eyes desperately scanned her own, trying to determine something that he hadn’t thought of before. He seemed inexplicably happy upon seeing her, for some reason, as if his second examination of the priestess had been his first. She knew she was good at lifting people’s spirits, but she didn’t know she was that good.
Then, another change occurred. He didn’t look quite as happy.
“No…” he said through clinched teeth. In fact, he seemed pretty angry about something. He shook his head violently, shaking as he flexed every muscle he was aware of, and reached behind his back. What an odd man, she thought, though all speculation was dashed as she realized what the orange-haired man had actually reached for. She was now staring down the rather long barrel of a pistol, and for a time, she didn’t know what to do. Nobody had ever pointed a gun at her before, and though she knew that a well-aimed beam of ki was likely more a threat than a bullet, she froze in momentary fear. The healer saw his finger tighten around the trigger, and, unaware of any other valid reaction, ducked out of the way. The pistol recoiled in the wake of a deafening bang, and a bullet whizzed by her head, singeing a few stray blondes from the top as it spiraled by.
“I’m sorry,” he breathed as he raised another gun towards her. “This is not your fault.”
“What the heck are you talking abou--…” she was cut off by a barrage of other bullets as the man became trigger-happy, squeezing each trigger as if bullets weren’t even coming out. Sophia barely had time to react, and fell to the ground. A few pieces of ammunition clipped her on the sides of each arm as she plummeted, though any damage she received was purely aesthetical. Tears were streaming down his face at that point as it was obvious that he was just venting his frustration on the world—or, more specifically, Sophia.
The man was obviously insane, and the chances of her getting out of the fight lessened with each round he fired. Her heart sank as she looked upon a face that bore so much sorrow, so much shame, so much anger. She knew that his heart had been broken, and there was nothing left for him to do but fight, to cast himself into battle to either win or be beaten. Sophia closed her eyes as the loud blasts faded to dull clicks—the man’s situation wasn’t so far off of her own. With Kaden gone, there was little else for her to do but to just carry on until her time in this life had depleted. Knowing what that felt like…Sophia felt an obligation to the man.
They had to fight.
The orange-haired man stared into her eyes; they seemed hollowed out and empty. As the healer scurried to her feet, her opponent flipped the weapons in his hand so that his fingers were wrapped around the barrels. He wound his arms back and threw them like knives, end falling over end as the metallic objects spun their way towards her. Sophia’s eyes widened as she narrowly dodged one of them, but took the blunt of the other as it crashed into her shoulder blade. A sickening thud ensued, and her entire arm went numb.
His arms were still extended at this point, still moving around as if he was holding something. The healer almost overcome by confusion—it wasn’t beyond the realm of comprehension that he had just lost it and was making motions at random, perhaps fighting off invisible enemies. All the loose ends tied themselves together as she looked behind her shoulder to see the two guns still floating around, still under his telekinetic control. She shook her head—maybe she was in too deep. Powers like that were far more dangerous that most of what she had encountered in the past.
It simply came down to how hard he had to focus. Sophia had been static the entire fight, frozen in place as she tried to determine what the best course of action was. She needed to be on the offensive, although that was not something she had been used to. Clinching her fists and hoping that she was faster than his control.
It turned out that she was not. The pistols easily caught up with her, though her only saving element was his lag in reaction time. The weapons fell to the ground as the healer’s fist slammed into the man’s face, a quick jab that wasn’t powerful enough to floor him, but sufficient enough to stagger him. She moved quickly onward, placing her feet in-between his, and grabbed his throat. A familiar sensation flooded over her as his ki began to drain into hers. However, due to his fairly large supply, or perhaps overuse of her absorption ability, she was forced to stop before any meaningful harm was done.
The man punched upwards, forcing her hands from his neck, and kicked outward. Sophia skidded backwards and nearly stumbled backwards onto her backside. Her inability to finish at a crucial time was, to say the least, not pleasing. She wasn’t too good at being creative, but her dire situation forced her hand. Closing her eyes, she began to ponder her options. She couldn’t draw in enough energy to drain him, and judging by his ki supply and the power of his kick, she wouldn’t be able to out-duel him, either. She couldn’t draw energy in or out, but…her eyes snapped open.
What if she could do both?
She darted towards him again and swung wildly. Her fists missed their mark every time as his crazed eyes figured out their course long before they arrived. However, connecting was not the point—she needed to get close enough to touch him. Sophia lunged forward with outstretched arms, and grabbed him in a hug.
“What the hell is it all for!?” he suddenly cried, forcing her backwards. Tears had not stopped streaming out of their respective ducts since his breakdown. Sophia sighed—she knew that voice. She understood where it came from. The pain of loss was easy to recognize, and hard to forget. It always seemed so easy to just stop trying, to get away for a while and forget about what might have come from it. She glanced at the ki-draining seed she had planted on him as he reached into his pocket to grab more bullets and picked up his guns. That was her last ace up her sleeve—if that didn’t work, then her victory would be left up to chance. Neither of them could lose, though neither of them seemed to have anything to gain.
“Don’t give up,” she whispered. She could practically see his mind racing as it searched for a meaning.