Heroes of Heimstadt

Täter was the first to move, though not quickly. He sauntered across the distance with an air of confidence. Both Franz and Arata kept their nerve and stayed put as he advanced, waiting for the moment to come.

He was within arms reach, completing the cursed triangle, the two against one. Franz suddenly dropped to a knee, spluttering up the spit and blood in his mouth. “The barrier…” Arata noticed, Täter then swung his arm Arata’s way but the artist was able to back up enough. Franz took the Scourge’s attention again as he pounced at him, it gave Arata the time to use his pen. Complex designs wouldn’t work here, he didn’t have the time. But, if Täter could use his barrier to attack, Arata could do the same.

The first punch dodged easily and the second deflected off the barrier, he followed up his defence with a shoulder tackle. Franz fell back, but now it was time to target the other hero. As he turned, there were three stick men around Arata, each more fleshed out than the previous ones and all three with weapons. Two of them stood either side of him, much taller and much more muscular and held large stone shields. The other smaller with a bow in hand. It fired between the shields and connected with the barrier. It was only enough to crack it a little so another one fired from the war bow, this one dodged rather than blocked. Täter closed the distance quickly enough but his barrier attack wasn’t strong enough to break these drawn shields. It didn’t matter to him, he simply smirked.

The barrier appeared behind the shield bearers, pulling them forward and past Täter. He destroyed the archer and closed in on the artist.

“Looks like you’re first, Reinhardt!” He mocked.

But Arata pointed past him. “Behind you, my dude.” Another arrow, he’d just about heard the twang of the string in time to cover himself with his barrier but as it stretched it was thinner, and shattered when hit. The arrow pierced his shoulder and the momentum pushed him forward, enough for Arata to hit him hard with a punch.

Even with the strength of a shut-in, the Scourge was knocked on his back… it didn’t help that Arata had drawn a gauntlet and put it on. He was currently shaking his arm and tearing up. “Son of a! So this is what it feels like to hit someone?!”

One punch would not be the death of Täter however, he picked himself back up, looking more aggravated than ever before; the red mark on his face the first sign of any real damage on him. His step forward was like thunder, shaking the ground beneath him and Arata to the core. The artist held his hands up hoping Täter would halt. “I think I’ve broke my hand… time out?” He asked hopelessly and was ignored as expected. Täter’s punch was deflected by one of the shield bearers but he dealt with both of them with his barrier, and continued by grabbing a hold of Arata’s jacket and launching him across the room. Niedlich used its furry frame to catch his new friend before the impact could do its damage, and Franz managed to take over the assault of Täter.

They’d talked a big game, yet it was still a losing battle. Arata knew even with his power they would lose to Täter, he was too strong. Franz was being knocked about and it was a miracle he wasn’t dead already. He felt as if he could count on Niedlich but, even then, that whiteout was the x-factor.

…

“The whiteout?”

He hadn’t seen it since Leona had been deleted. Täter did have it earlier and he was being blocked by Niedlich for some reason but…

There it was. Right in the corner of the room. As quick as he could he drew something beside the bottle and launched it towards himself, catching it and drawing its “blade” in the same motion. “With this…” he announced “you lose!”

Nothing. He’d swiped it across, Täter in the firing line and yet it just acted the same as the normal stuff, like the magic from before was just a daydream. But, it wasn’t. Leona was gone, deleted by this very item.

”Well… that was embarrassing.” Instinctively, he tried remembering that moment, analysing the difference between what he had done and what Täter had done. “Nothing…” he muttered. “What’s your secret?” He asked the inanimate object.

“I’m a tsun!” Arata responded, answering for the whiteout with an overly cutesy voice. He’d noticed Franz had heard him and was looking at him disappointingly, under his breath he apologised.

Done with Franz again, Täter stomped his way closer to Arata who was still trying to uncover the tool’s secrets. It was Niedlich’s turn to take his former owner’s attention away. A slice of the claws this way, a swing of the tail that way. Täter’s broken shield could not protect him but his skills as a former soldier were proving useful. Unfortunately a punch or a kick wouldn’t do anything to his former pet, evidently so as his hand bounced off it’s wiry fur, and another swipe went just over his head. Dodging was tiring him out, his breath now hoarse and laboured. But the fact the fight had dragged on so long had irritated the Scourge more and more as time ticked by, so much so that any mercy he would have had for this mouse went out of the window. As soon as his barrier was repaired he blasted it forward, thinning it to the thickness of a bat and smashing it into the monster. It still did next to nothing, so he thinned it again, this time razor-like, and it dug into the monster’s flesh just under the arm. Niedlich’s screech was deadly in of itself, and both Arata and Franz were petrified in place by the sound.

“Serves you right, monster. You think a little paper cut is the last of it you’ve got another thing coming. Turn on me, your master, and you won’t see another day in the sun!” It dug deeper, splitting the flesh and piercing out the other side to the sounds of a horrific wail.

Franz still couldn’t stand, as much as he wanted to. The flask on his hip was now bent to an S shape but it still held a few drops of fire water, drops he consumed to give him one last push. It was enough to lift him to his feet but the pain was unbearable, regardless of how drunk he was.

He was wide eyed following this, another ally, Niedlich, in Täter’s sights for a final strike. He’d drawn his barrier out, leaving a trail of blood leading back to a golf ball hole in the mouse’s shoulder. The barrier thinned again, longer this time, like that of a blade. Arata dropped the whiteout there and then, managing to stop Täter with a stick man holding onto the barrier. This creation lived only long enough for Täter to notice, now the beast was in trouble again and Arata couldn’t draw anything in time.

His hand drifted to the whiteout without him even noticing, and every fibre of his being screamed out for this sacred object to work, finally… “save him!” He cried out.

His eyes had closed as the blade reached Niedlich’s throat, but no wail followed. No splatter of blood and no slicing sound. Reluctantly he opened his eyes.

Täter looked as if his swing had continued, but Niedlich’s head was still attached, it was still moving around like nothing had happened. And when Täter turned to admire his handiwork, he was met with a headbutt.

Arata just looked down at the whiteout in disbelief. “That worked?” Nothing had changed about it, he’d done the exact same motion as the last time but it failed then. Even Franz looked confused. Everything screamed that it shouldn’t have worked and yet, Niedlich was still alive and Täter was embedded in the wall all the same. “Save him!” It was the only difference he could think of. “Last time I used it I just thought it would work as normal but, it needed a command?”

Täter slowly pulled himself from the rubble, dropping to the floor with a pained expression and shards of broken brick stuck in his back. Meanwhile, Arata held both the whiteout and his G-pen in his hands, staring at the both of them. “These are tools of a mangaka, both are out of place here. So I thought that the whiteout would be the same as my pen, I never needed to command it… is it because it’s mine? And the whiteout is Täter’s? But, that wouldn’t make any sense.” As he pondered, he noticed the Scourge recovering from the impact, slowly closing the window of deep thought he had left.

He stared closer at the two tools, thinking so hard he’d have expected steam to be rising from his head. “The pen is a tool to draw things into existence, a tool of creation. The whiteout, a tool of deletion.” The next thought took him back to the manga panels, seeing the scene where Täter deleted Leona. Hard to relive it may have been but a flash of realisation hit him so hard he almost fell over.

“Every time I draw something, it has the properties of the paper. When I drew a sword in the air, it cracked and broke apart. When I drew it on the stone, it was hard as a rock. both of these are linked, they’re magical items here, but only one needs a will to use? No, I’ve just never tried with my pen before…” slowly he lifted his pen, drawing out a small butterfly, and with everything he had, willed it into existence, feeling a deep energy in his well up and explode.

The butterfly was born, flapping its black and blue wings around him. It didn’t crack, or break apart. He had drawn life.

And as Täter had slowly got back to a vertical base, reading for the endgame, finally Arata had uncovered the path to victory. He had discovered the perfect end.

“Now, I can bring you back. Leona.”