BlueShear
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Chapter 103
🕑 Added 2024-11-13 19:19:20 +0000 UTCMinutes Earlier:
It was time to commence with Jun’s absolutely foil proof, never going to fail, sure to satisfy or your money back guaranteed, eight step, two part plan to put an end to the sadistic cephalopod scream Queen’s uninterrupted reign of tyranny. This time? For once and for all.
Step 1: Don’t die.
A bit of a tall order, I’ll grant you, but trust me when I say it’s integral to every single step of the plan that follows.
The only problem? Now that he was taking an active interest in things, he was being reacquainted with the fact that, before his little trip to lala land, he’d been made to meet his maker with extreme prejudice—oftentimes way, way before he even saw the hit coming. And unfortunately, that trend doesn’t seem to have ebbed in his extended absence. Which meant he was dying a lot. Like, a lot a lot.
Revision: “Step 1: Don’t die,” amended to, “Step 0.5: Dodge.”
At first, he tried to dodge normally. He was swiftly skewered to death. He tried to dodge a second time. He was skewered. Death, as always, quick to take him, and yet so agonizing in its embrace. Was it just him, or was her aim, in so far as his family jewels were concerned, weirdly… unerring?
Like, she couldn’t be aiming for that, specifically. Right? Surely not, I mean- oh… who am I kidding…?
Again he dodged, and again. Death. Skewered. Dreams of hearth and home lost forever to the sands of time… it went on like this for quite a while.
Hmmm… perhaps I should take a step back.
He tried closing his eyes this time, stepping back into the sea of constellations and letting his subconscious take a run at things.
The results were… actually not half bad. Something about his inherent connection to “the connection of all things,” allowing his body, mind, or… soul, maybe, to predict her actions with startling accuracy. Or, rather, to predict the consequence her actions would have had if allowed to come to fruition.
It was all very confusing.
He was pretty sure, by this point, that this level of universal comprehension was in no way normal, and genuinely did not know how his brains weren’t dribbling out of his ears from sheer overtaxation by now, but whatever.
Straddling the line between conscious and unconscious, he was able to react to the danger far faster than he had consciously. It still wasn’t enough though. No, not nearly. He needed something more.
And then it hit him. What if he just made his instinct… conscious? If he did that, would his subconscious instincts remain the same, or, like he was beginning to suspect, would it get a big bump in proficiency? After all, he’d already established that his subconscious was way better at the whole “oneness with the universe,” thing than he was.
And if he somehow actively improved, well it only seemed fair that his subconscious would improve as well right? Effectively free of charge! Okay, so the logic there wasn’t exactly… sound, but he was feeling rather desperate at the moment and this idea felt particularly inspired to his pain addled mind. Was it possible for a concussion to carry over between lives?
Regardless, if this did work, and he actively improved himself, gave his subconscious better ammunition you could say—constantly taking from what the lizard brain cooked up and then expounding upon it—couldn’t he feasibly grow… indefinitely?!
Probably not, but it was still worth a shot.
Now the only issue was, how to go about it? Time seemed to pass at a glacial pace, as he systematically went down a list of possible solutions. He tried sleep walking, to attain a perfect state of zen, to make of his mind a tranquil pond, then threw a rock in that pond to see how far it sank, built a flimsy mind palace, gave himself a concussion, watched his mind palace fall into disrepair due to decidedly poor household management.
Hell, he even tried to hypnotize himself a time or two, though whether this worked or not he was ultimately unsure. Had he always felt the irresistible urge to urinate whenever he conjured the taste of strawberries in his mind, or was that a new thing? The world at large may never know…
Eventually, almost on a whim, he tried to exist in both states, conscious and subconscious, simultaneously. Now, while that obviously hadn’t worked, what he discovered in the process was almost as unhinged. As it turned out, by closing one eye and focusing really, really hard, he was able to see in both the sea of constellations and the real world simultaneously.
It had taken some doing, forcing his mind to accept the conjunction of both realities as anything nearing a reasonable request. Vacillating rapidly between one and another until they began to juxtapose themselves upon each other. Until he could comfortably, okay well, if not comfortably than at least consistently, exist in both spaces at the same time.
The results… were life changing. Literally.
Because for the first time ever, he was able to see the forward echoes of his incoming demise before it reached him—like a second world layered atop the real one, set to an abysmally low opacity. And not only could he see it, but he could feel it as well. Feel as it moved and shifted, playing out scenes that had yet to occur. Phantom tentacles spearing his phantom self through in gruesome detail.
And in that moment, it was as if he truly had been speared through—the gut wrenching sensation causing very real bile to build up at the back of his throat. Having effectively died once already, he immediately knew what not to do. And so, with this newfound danger sense in tow, he dodged.
It wasn’t perfect.
Things were still moving far too fast for him to reasonably keep up with, but he was given just enough time to concentrate his Detonation Weave on the most critical areas, and that added layer of protection proved just enough to keep him breathing.
Missing an arm and the left side of my face, I’ll grant you, but nothing my nanites cant fix in due time.
That done, he was free to move onto step two.
Divest the witch of all her spirit.
To give credit where it was do, this wasn’t going to be a solo effort. He had his contractee’s to thank for the much needed assist. A couple of lost tomes here, a few faded hymns carved into a ruined cathedral there, and he suddenly found himself the proud owner of not one, not two, but four extra-planar entities. And really, with all his bonuses to demonic and angelic commune, it hadn’t been all that hard to bring them to heel. Their skillsets were as follows:
Taltheon the Undying:
This guy can’t really die, since his true body, like most demons, is still back in hell, but I can bring him back almost indefinitely so long as I’m willing to pay the blood price. The interest on this blood debt is downright criminal, but, I suppose, what can you really expect of a literal demon?
Pros – He hits like a truck.
Cons – He won’t be hitting anything anytime soon. Not unless it’s stationary that is.
Califear the Cantankerous:
A crotchety old curmudgeon, he can nullify attacks through vitriol alone. Within a certain radius of his obnoxious self, if he decides something oughtn’t be, it will literally cease to be.
Pros - He’s the ultimate shield.
Cons - He’s generally fickle, terrible company, and the more taxing the nullification, the more fat he burns. Until, eventually, he decides he’s more than fulfilled his end of the contract, and so leaves. I have died more than once due to this demon’s high maintenance.
Seraph of Sands Euphoria & Maribel Bringer of Hope:
Contrary to expectations, in my humble experience, I’ve found that angels and their ilk are often far more disconcerting than their demonic counterparts. This is primarily because the demons typically don’t try to hide their disdain for mankind, or market their scheming as, “for their own good.” Looking for examples? Well then, look no further!
The mainstay of these two holy messengers is emotional manipulation. Somehow altering brain chemistry to promote feelings of hope, in the case of one. And feelings of… a decidedly different nature, in the other.
Pros – Mental subterfuge. Get in the enemies head. Mess with their mind. Make them sloppy. Emotion prone. Off balance.
Cons – Angels tend to have… rather strong opinions.
All in all, they made for a great big happy family. Now if only there were a way to have all the kiddies get along…
***
BANG
Another small meteor rammed into her side, punching the breath from her lungs and nearly robbing her of her balance. She spun with the inertia, lashing out with a wave of stillness as she did so. Casting as wide a net as possible. Hoping to catch something, anything, in its creeping area of influence. Innumerable chains pierced a scant few handspans into her web of calm before slowing to a standstill.
She dismissed her third law before the strain of keeping the chains at bay could bleed away too much of her spirit reserves. She released a barrage of tentacles, intercepting the suddenly freed chains. Entangling them, even as a now familiar thud, sounded from behind her. She turned. With a gesture of her hand she made as if to blast the demon into oblivion, and then she paused.
It was a faint.
The boy appeared a scant few inches from her outstretched palm, body already glistening with that shock absorbent barrier of his. Instead of a wave of force, however, he was treated to a cocoon of enforced stillness, followed by a wall of tentacles. The rapid use of her laws draining her spirit considerably, but the cost was more than worth it.
She no longer questioned the way his eyes widened before she’d even committed to the attack. She merely acted. As she’d expected, he disappeared an instant before her strike would’ve proven fatal, but, most notably, he also left the majority of his right leg behind. Nialla grinned. She was beginning to get his measure now. She would not be tricked a second-! Wait! Where had the horned demon gone?! Instinct told her to look up.
The gray golem of a demon, plummeting at breakneck speeds, brought its two massive fists down in an overhead strike. Her first instinct was to counter. Caution won out against instinct, however. She leapt to the side, her racial trait yanking her away like a marionette doll caught by the strings. The boy, sans half of his extremities, appeared where she’d just been a moment ago. He locked eyes with her as the fists descended, a look of triumph on his face.
Shit!
She immediately spun on her heels, not caring to watch him vanish for the umpteenth time—taking with him the force and momentum of the strike. The boy was fast, but predictable. He would appear wherever he thought she’d least expect it. She expelled a bubble of stillness just to be safe.
BOOM!
The earth quaked behind her. She was tempted to look back, but dared not. She stayed the course. Barely a fraction of a second had passed, and she expected him any moment now… except that moment never came. Eventually she gave in, releasing her bubble of stillness just long enough to turn her head to the side.
WHAM!
A flying knee straight to the temple. Nialla was sent skidding across the ground.
How! In that scant instant?! How could he have possibly known to time it so perfectly?!
Nialla snapped her body upright, a sudden gale picked up by the speed of her passage, now furious well beyond belief.
THUD
The horned demon stood immediately behind her. She could practically feel it’s fist inching ever closer. She tried to think about things rationally, but an inexplicable swelling of outrage, helplessness, despair, not to mention other, more carnal desires she hadn’t indulged in centuries, robbed her of her vast mental faculties. She spun, swung, connecting with the boys face instead of the demons—the delighted, slightly smooshed grin she received only serving to stoke her ire hotter.
She spun again, catching him in the midsection this time before the twisting of space could fully disperse—applying all the spirit and law at her disposal. His eyes widened in surprise, yet, infuriatingly, his only response was to grin all the wider. They continued on like this. She’d seen enough of his antics by now that predicting his positioning proved child’s play.
Even were that not the case, her sphere of omniscience was currently active. Further draining her waning spirit at an exponential rate, while at the same time alerting her to his presence with exacting precision. Pummeling him over and over again—from every odd angle, from every conceivable direction—proved exceedingly cathartic, as it so happened.
Almost euphoric.
Where he appeared, her fist was already there to plant itself into that oddly resistant shell. Compounding one fist after another until the barrier itself was barely holding itself together. Swelling and shifting like a thing about to burst. Very soon now. Eventually his shielding would fail, and then-!
Hold on a moment…! Did she really want to be here when that unstable thing of his went nuclear? Her fist stopped bare centimeters from his chin—tilted upwards as if he were kindly offering it to her.
The boy seemed to catch onto her sudden suspicion just as she’d begun to comprehend his intention. Seeing that he’d been had, the boy gave a hapless shrug, as if to say: “Ahh! Well. Looks like the jig is up!”
Fuck.
The world was inundated with a blinding silver light.
BOOM!
