Chapter 8:
My Fantasy is Just a Mirror
Following the footsteps of the indifferent Irvelle, Cobalt pushed on through the brush.
The terrain was precipitous and almost alpine. After the horse outgrew the uphill path, what remained was two vagabonds, one with the hair of blue and eyes of fire, and one who was seemingly cloaked in a snowy white, laying his stationary head before two rested hands up over his back.
Dark.
That was another valid observation that came to Cobalt’s mind.
Had Irvelle’s entire person not reflected the oncoming light around them radiantly, he may have lost him behind the thick brush and inked atmosphere.
But within the dark unknown he choked back memories of the light which had abandoned him. Almost as if the silence he was returning to reminded him of something he had lost… The ability to shut out the rest of the world. An Abyss, even.
“You are not afraid of the dark, are you?” A gentle and sincere voice called back to him, interrupting his own interrupting thoughts.
“No, not at all.”
Seeing Cobalt’s own true placidity, a childlike smirk appeared across Irvelle’s face.
“There could be snakes or spiders right under your nose.”
A jab Cobalt shortly laughed off.
“Then I guess I’m not afraid of those, either.”
A subtle “Hmm” escaped the nostrils of the boy in white, turning over Cobalt’s words in his own mind.
“I normally have a torch or so when I venture out here. I am surprised that does not bother you, though.”
“Not particularly.”
The mood suddenly felt… Unnatural.
Irvelle, nonchalantly walking forward, continued his idle chatter to keep the silence from grasping itself onto the two of them any longer.
Cobalt, cooly, and nearly thoughtlessly, walked forward autonomously.
“Hmm… You don’t ask many questions, do you?”
An odd subject.
“Those eyes which had shown apathy and despair and yet beamed with the curiosity to save themselves…”
Cobalt’s eyes… they had matched Irvelle’s, right?
“Eyes which ask neither question nor concern. Which blindly take the path of least resistance as they believe it to be the only of such.”
Irvelle brushed more branches out of his way as he talked.
“Eyes afraid of no snakes nor spiders. Nor dismemberment.”
The way Irvelle’s lips brazenly spoke of their encounter…
“Eyes which take the form of itinerancy. Walking forward incautiously.”
“...”
Where were they walking?
“It had surprised me as such the ingenuous nature of eyes crawling with the stings of treachery.”
Irvelle, cloaked in white, suit of white, hair of white, skin of white. Such an irradiant figure walking among a jungle of brush, vines, leaves, and the torrent of a tenebrous green.
The abnormality of which…
“Perhaps they ailed with paranoia before… But masked behind your turmoil and confusion you simply knew not what to think… But that is not a suitable excuse, is it, Cobalt?”
“...”
Irvelle stopped.
It was at this moment that the stars appeared once again from their nap behind the canopy.
The alpine forest ceased to allow its green to breathe.
Cobalt choked in that breath.
As Irvelle looked over his shoulder.
“That nature…”
His voice cracked unnaturally, a hint of animalistic excitement squeaking from it.
It was then that Cobalt really acknowledged his eyes…
Irvelle had obsessed, swooned, been encapsulated by, been captivated by, became infatuated with Cobalt’s eyes…
The target of his romanticisms and poeticisms, Irvelle again and again expressed adoration for look brimming within his retinas.
But looking at Irvelle’s now…
Cobalt saw.
The sharp glint of predatory instincts. Like a carnivorous wolf he looked over his shoulder beckoning Cobalt’s eyes to reside within his mannerisms.
Fangs glowed from glinted teeth.
His eyes, twisting with a ravenous face wrapped up in its voracity.
“Is just what perfect prey would think, non?!”
It was then he understood.
The eyes which swarmed with the same hatred as his own, yet twisted and turned into a funhouse distortion - a hellish caricature of the mirror the two stood on opposite sides of.
The devil wearing a suit of skin, and a tie…
That devil, which envied his own eyes.
With the snap of his finger, a collage of hooded figures suddenly appeared out of no where, popping into visibility all around each other. Spreading out in a circle, the two, both prey and hunter, found themselves surrounded on all sides.
Betrayal.
But that hunter, wearing the facial expressions of a beast, wore a placid, yet sadistically
Betrayal.
He turned leisurely towards the cloaked figures, a sadistic smile still shamelessly plastered across him.
Betrayal!!!
The splitting, unsettling image of the thug’s dismembered arm flying through the air ceaselessly rocked his disgruntled brain.
All of the signs…
“Irvelle Ganymede.”
“Irvelle.”
“Irvelle Ganymede.”
Forming a ring around the two, these men, appearing like cultists, spoke one after another in choppy, disorganized, and drowsy-sounding mannerisms. His initial inspection assumed that these things were alive, but, with the tones of their voices…
He could see no face. No hand. No feet.
He had no idea just what it was that he was looking at.
“I am aware there have been quite a few skirmishes, or such…” Irvelle shot his charisma forward without hesitation.
“What business do you have here.”
“What business.”
“What brings you here.”
Overlapping, with absolutely no inflictions in tone. It was a sight like that of a mass of zombies, something any rational human’s instincts would tell them to run, or hide. But while Cobalt shuddered, Irvelle stood tall, unflinching. Racking the white hair from off his face brazenly, a smirk escaped his chapped and callous lips.
“Ah—I believe I was getting to that. I know there may have been some hostilitiés in the past, oui… Perhaps some camps of your’s I’ve destroyed, some proie lost their lives, what have you…”
What the hell was he saying—?!
“You so candidly return.”
“After betraying the word of Our Cataclysm.”
“Our word.”
“Betraying Our Cataclysm.”
Cataclysm…?!
“Betrayal… Well, I find that to be rather inaccurate… You truly believe that?” The way he emphasized the word believe like a child would, playing for sobs theatrically.
Has Irvelle completely forgotten Cobalt was here…?
“...”
“...”
“...”
Their silence felt deafening.
However Cobalt’s own silence wasn’t something he felt he could keep up much longer.
“Moi? Betray your exclusive fan club? Why… Betrayal… I would never—”
“Bullshit!!!”
“—Hmh?”
Screaming against the monster who brought him here, all he could do was shake in place.
To his South, under the Great Southern Star.
To his East, under the Moon.
To his West, under tree canopies
And to his North, the twisting, grueling face of a hyena with sadistic pleasure.
In all four directions, the several… No, dozens of red hooded figures surrounded them completely.
And so Cobalt raised his boiling rage to the one figure of which he had believed to have had a soul.
That boiling sensation overturned his thoughts and reason.
That boiling sensation overturned his apathetic demeanor.
That boiling sensation spilled over in a graphic oversaturated burst of anger.
“You son of a bitch!!! What is this?!”
“Ah… It seems this prey really is just as vulgar under the circumstances… How ironique…” Irvelle turned to Cobalt as if showcasing him.
“…The hell’s ironic—?!”
“...”
“...”
“...”
“My offering. My branche d'olivier.”
“What the hell are you even saying?!”
“You see it too…”
“—Huh?!”
“Look past his eyes. I assure you, you will feel it as well. He is certainly not normal. You may torture him as you please.”
“!!!”
This whole time, Irvelle had obsessed over Cobalt’s eyes… But now—what the hell was he talking about?!
“...”
“...”
“...”
Left in the silence, the wind hissed through his ears. The numbing stillness that fell between them rose the hairs across Cobalt’s arms, stretching the unworldly chill up through his spine.
Irvelle’s suit fluttered against the wind. Meanwhile, his emerald eyes seemed to glow against the darkness. However that glow of life, from within the cultists—whatever you could call life, it was no where to be seen.
Finally, throughout the decayingly dead silence, the assembly of crimson cloaks all bowed down, seemingly to Cobalt, while the object of attention simply stood, mouth agape.
Whatever it was Irvelle had implied about Cobalt’s eyes, they had seen it too.
“Your offer has been accepted.”
“Nibiru accepts.”
“Accepted your offer.”
He could see Irvelle salivating with pleasure. Whatever Irvelle was planning, it had worked.
“Ah, so you really are taking that alter-ego name to heart. Would you mind ever telling me the reason behind it?”
Flicking the frosted bangs out from over his eyes, the monster in white that led him here gave a shrewd and fake smile while returning to the assortment of red.
Both sides engaged in a conversation, as if he wasn’t even here.
But even though he shook, and was terrified that people like this actually existed, he couldn’t let this opportunity go to waste. He couldn’t keep being afraid. He had to act.
And so, he dashed forwards.
I’m not a goddamn lab rat! I’m done being caged in!!!
Running as fast as he could, his pumping fists raised into the chilled night air as he charged forward.
All of you pieces of shit want to keep me pushed down…
Pushed down…
Pushed down…
“Let’s see how you like it!!!”
He charged, leaping from the wet grass in his boundless last-last-resort.
His foot smacked down on one of the strange cultists, catching himself on his momentum, and smashing his face into the dirt.
“!!!”
Slipping slightly, he caught his balance against the propulsion from the cloaked cranium.
Stopping himself from rolling midair, he steadied himself in the direction of the forest.
The others started to notice his charge into the night.
Leaping into the air with confidence, he understood the true weight of the audience which had gathered.
Dozens… Maybe even a hundred.
“I’ll fight my way through all of you!!!”
Was his beaten and battered battle cry.
He charged down towards the ground, flipping his body’s momentum in midair to swing his right shoulder forward with all of his strength.
And then the lifting head-
SMASH!
A haymaker right to the top of the head.
Pulverizing another face into the dirt, Cobalt’s reeled fist spun his body counterclockwise towards the cultist he’d just punched…
And with a thud, he smashed into the wet grass, crashing all of his weight onto his right hip bone.
No sturdy footwork; reckless punches and leaps. Clearly, Cobalt knew nothing about fights. Dancing delicately yet unstably through the air, his attack style was nothing short of naive - something that could easily get him killed.
However, with a smile…
“I’ve got nothin’ to be afraid of!!!”
He caught himself, stretching his foot out against the force.
With his leg sliding almost 180 degrees, the dust he kicked up set the stage for his battle.
But this stage was lit with the despairing eyes of perhaps a hundred foes… With Cobalt situated right in the middle.
God my fist hurts…
He smiled pathetically at his knuckles.
I don’t know what those things are made of… But it didn’t feel like flesh. Is that how hard a head is…?!
Then another charge.
Kicking up the dust forward, he felt the adrenaline rush through him.
All his worries and former apathy - it all disappeared into the wind. Bismuth, Istheria, Crestia, a meaning for life; none of it meant anything anymore. In this very moment, the only things Cobalt had to worry about in the entire world was running as quickly as possible, and inflicting as much pain as possible.
This feels sadistic… But when I’m this cornered…
The despairing eyes all turned towards him now, but as he charged towards his freedom, he couldn’t escape even the audience of the silvery man in white.
“Hmh…”
A jump. Then the swinging of his body again, counterclockwise, to spin kick another cultist blocking him from his goal.
“You NPCs are just in my way!!!”
Feeling his tennis shoes click with the steel-like body of the faceless mask, he realized the angle he had hit at was off significantly.
That being said, it had still sent the cultist flying backwards.
Flipping himself over frantically, he didn’t have time to process that his ankle was likely sprained. Pain didn’t even feel like a sensation anymore, it just felt like news being delivered to his rushed brain.
Landing on one crouched leg, one stretched leg, and two poised hands, he bursted off past the hooded figures.
All the stupid training I did… Even though she always kicked my ass.
“This one’s for her, goddamnit!!!”
Leaping fearlessly over the shadowy ragdolls he had knocked down, he caught the glimpse of his out-ticket.
The enemies, all laying on the ground in defeat…
None could stop him from reaching his way back into the forest… But could his stamina keep up? Would his weak ankle hold?
He swallowed the memories of her deep down into him as all his lingering fears and regrets sweat off his heated body.
He could still feel the stinging of his jaw from earlier…
Being beaten down by Nick and Hydeira…
Being beaten down by thugs…
I’ll never let myself feel that pain again!!!
His feet ached.
Bruised and beaten hands could as well have been dripping blood.
But the smile on his face as he charged with the last drop of freedom he could spare for himself.
“I won’t let it end like this-!!!”
But it was after his battle cry that he realized the sudden flashes in front of him.
Sliding his foot in front of himself as a last ditch effort…
His smile gritting its teeth in an enraged frown as he slid to a stop…
Right in front of him, three cultists appeared out of the blue.
Cobalt would need time to think of a plan.
But no…
Time wasn’t something he had.
Sliding his way all the way to the ground, his left hand caught himself as he stopped to bolt 90 degrees left.
But seeing the shadows move in his peripheral…
The crimson cloaks fluttering against their speed…
Adrenaline pumping…
Just a little further!!!
Frantically, his eyes watched them gain speed against him.
His headstart was overtaken by the dashing cloaks which moved at around twice his speed.
“You pieces of shit!!!”
In this game of hunter and prey…
All angles… All options… All exits…
He had lost.
SMASH.
His neck twisted at the sudden force as the entire momentum of his body was turned against him.
His frantic eyes fluttered out of consciousness as the enormous blunt force to his cheek flew him against the wind.
And with a thud, the boy landed hopelessly in the mud…
Any hopes of his daring escape crushed hopelessly by his smashed and bloody lip.
“Ahh… So it’s like that, then…” The commentator eyed the situation, fascinated.
That sole commentator, a dazzlingly putrid white plastered against the crimson cult…
Irvelle was the one who dealt the final blow.
Blood dripped down, pooling around his face.
“-Hjck!” Cobalt, sharply inhaling, forced his battered hands against the mud to lift his face from asphyxiation by pool of blood.
No…
“That was quite beautiful, I must say…”
No!!!
As the cultists gathered around in recovery from Cobalt’s sudden dash for freedom, Irvelle turned away, mildly annoyed at his hair which had shifted slightly due to his short dash. But running his hands through them, he simply added…
“C’est la vie…”
“You liar!!!”
“Hmh?”
Turning back towards the defeated boy in blue, Irvelle watched him lift a beaten face off the black mud.
“Like hell that’s just life!!! You’re just a shitfaced liar!!! Burn in hell!!!”
Tearing his voice apart, Cobalt screamed his profanities at him. In just such a short night, the subtle game of chess that had occurred between the two had ended in a resounding victory for white.
Cobalt, masked by the darkness and coated in the black mud, felt the weight of his checkmate.
His eyes, now piercing their fury and resentment, howled at Irvelle with every last shred of their enraged resolve.
“Ah…” Irvelle pulled at his sleeve, viewing the pathetic boy with disdained amusement.
“I would be many things, yes… But I assure you, a liar not is myself.”
“!!!”
“I have not told a single lie to you - you see. Along your own judgment, you put your faith into me. This was simply a hunt—however, your brain, reveling from the safety I brought to you, consciously decided to trust me. I promised you adventure, did I not?” With sadistic pleasure, his grin twisted across his shadowed face.
“Y-you’re… Absolutely insane.”
“And your eyes, I assure you… Are truly beau… Perhaps, even… Like mine own eyes.”
“Like hell!!!” Cobalt spat his venom from the mud as crimson figures closed in on his immobilized body. “You’re absolutely twisted!!!”
But the harshness of Cobalt’s words would never truly reach Irvelle, who dismissively turned towards one of the cloaked figures.
“The hostilitiés between us… Does this alleviate that?
“Alleviate.”
“It does.”
“In fact it does.”
“Yes.”
Irvelle’s smirk returned with even more vigor.
“Nibiru.”
“He thanks you.”
“Thanks you kindly.”
Brushing his hair once more, his dazzlingly eccentric hand sprouted in the air. “Ah! Wonderful are the instincts of a hunter! Magnifique!”
Before him, footsteps led the shining man away from Cobalt.
Left in the mud… Covered in blood…
Was that his fate…?
Surrounded by the crimson…
The colors of cloaks obscured his vision.
From all angles, the bodies piled on, hiding the body of the man in white.
His feet turning, legs brazenly brushed by, leaving Cobalt far behind.
Those feet continued walking, until no longer in Cobalt’s field of vision…
Darkness fell onto his perception of the world as he couldn’t keep his mind awake.
Slipping further and further away, he watched the second world which had forsaken him fade away…
Is this really…
『All that’s left for me…?』
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