Arc 3 - Chapter 64: Toxicity vs Base II

Returning to the present…

It was a few seconds as they both stared. Locked eyes, burning irises, Pacifica didn’t show an ounce of fear. Returning the same anger she had, her grip on the walkway only tightened.

With her right hand, her javelin creaked under the pressure. And with her left, her shield strengthened under the glazed bleach. Feeling the hot wind blow against their faces… it also stung her burnt face.

“Now go fuck yourself.”

She heard a reload.

Right before she thrusted her arm back, it stalled to her side, as she turned around to face the noise. Keeping her body 90 degrees to Pacifica, it was so that she didn’t fully look at her, or who reloaded. But in a titled angle, she stared down at a man wielding a Thompson.

“You want some too?”

“And what if I am?”

Staring at the way she dangled, her biceps pulsated raw strength to her fingers. Knowing she wouldn’t have that much strength, and knowing full well he was only distracting her, he needed to push the fight to him.

“Just because you won the fight, doesn’t mean you win the war.”

“I’m sorry?”

“What do you think I was doing this whole time?”

He gambled on the mission itself. As if he showed one of his cards in poker, whichever intelligence the others had, it would be used against him. Acknowledging this, he kept his finger snuggled on the trigger. Vivy moved her eyes toward the corners, and found small jars laced with clear liquid.

“Oh you smug bastard. You men are all destructive."

“What's your problem with men? I ain’t did nothing to you.”

“Oh yes you did! You’re all the same I tell ya, all the freaking same.”

“Then does it give you the right to hate me? To hurt others? No…”

For a split second, he soared a bit of strength in his palms. Hearing the metal of his gun creak, he waited and stalled his boots to the metal walkway. Hearing the wind howl, his whole body shuddered, but not in the warmth.

“To kill my brother?”

“He worked with the Dark Angels, he was an enemy. Get over it.”

“Like hell I will, because right now.”

Taking a step back rather than forward, he loosened his footing with the walkway. Making himself light, he glared at her with reddened eyes. Already containing what he had in his stomach, he wanted to relieve such old days, but those days were over.

“I’m gonna make sure your daddy grieves. Come hell or high water.”

“My father?”

“Yeah daddy’s girl. Your sugar daddy, your—”

“What the fuck are you even saying…?”

While Christian spoke, Pacifica felt her whole body slug in exhaustion. Feeling it all within her neck, and even her back, she continued to hang from the bars. Christian, who saw it all through glaring eyes, scoffed at her question.

“You’re a literal princess. Knowing you, and your whole ‘hate men’ ideology, you’d be the type to fall on your knees with a man with money.”

He heard her javelin dent. Crushing the center with her fingers, each second they talked was enough for her to growl. Hunching herself forward, her own shield quaked, as everything was bottled up on her stomach.

“I don’t need men’s validation! I am free! I am strong! I don’t need my father telling me anything!”

“Is that what you think you are, free? You’re chained to your own daddy, like a maiden locked away in a tower. No wait, that’s what you think you are? Is it?”

Her whole body tightened. Lips wrinkling in rage, she wanted to take a step forward, but she was too throttled in it. Christian lowered the barrel of his gun. Having it aimed right where her boots were, he trailed the words in a mouse’s whisper.

“Kind of pathetic if you ask me.”

The javelin snapped.

Grasping nothing within her palm, the shield she also carried dropped to the floor. Everything was shaded red, as the gates burst.

—“You don’t understand a single thing, do ya!? I’m healthy! I’m smart! I’m petite! Every man would want a woman like me so why!? I’m not ugly! No way I’m ugly! Hell, they are! Men are the ugly ones! The reason they are is because they’re all stupid! They don’t see the beauties of what’s in front of them! And they’re not even good men as well! They’re peasants! I can’t date fucking peasants! Imagine bringing home a man who works with oil!? With children!? Or with garbage!? But guess what!? Guess what!? They all date women who are as clueless as fucking chicken feed! I hope they get cheated on! Them and everyone! I hope they neglect each other like how any man would to me! Dates!? Cuddles!? Hand-holding!? I had none of that! None! You want to blame me for being ignorant!? Being some loser with no experience!? You can suck my hairy pussy with yeast on top! Suck it! Suck! It! Are you gonna!? Are you gonna be a bottom bitch and bow to—”—

“Just shut up will ya?”

As if her speech had cured him, he had his finger on the trigger, but no redness lingered in his eyes. Seeing that she blinked, her words trailed to nothingness, and her lips pursued a frown.

“If you wanted a man who isn’t a peasant, you could’ve just fucked your dad.”

The wind stopped. No hot air to blow onto their cheeks, or their foreheads, Vivy felt her eyes… turn white. Widening them, making them clear, a subtle darkness began to mold from her upper cheeks. Every muscle in her body loosened, as if the frustration she had withered. Replacing it with—

“You don’t talk about him like that.” She took a step forward. Her hands gripping nothing, she let it be as they strode on her thighs. Taking another step, she put enough pressure to thump the literal metal. “Don’t you ever, ever… ever disrespect him!”

Leaping forward, a burst of wind blew out from her boots. Shackling the air to shift, to bend to her own will, the boom it carried blasted against his ears. He held his breath, while she lunged at him without summoning her shield and javelin.

________________________________________________________________________

(Maiores 16, 55 / 9:13AM)

A day after Manny’s kidnapping…

Clouds blanketed the morning sky, leaving the usually sunny region to wither in coolness. Casting no shadows upon the buildings, everyone’s mood was melancholic, as per the weather they were experiencing. But for the people that lived on top of that hill… they wore black. Neat black.

—As a wooden crucifix dug deep into the red dirt.—

Instead of khaki brown, their jackets were replaced with tuxedos. In the center of the group, was a man with white spiked hair. His hands clenched behind his back, the rest of the young soldiers stood and watched with darkened eyes.

“May you find solace… whether above or elsewhere.”

They didn’t bury him, nor did they have a casket. They found no body, not even a trace for where Manny went.

“I pray he doesn’t suffer.”

To the right of him, were three kids ranging from different ages. One being eight, and the other ten, the two sniffled with reddened eyes. Looking like they already exhausted their waterworks, all that was left was… A teen stared at the cross, his eyes gloomed in a radiating darkness.

Kenji noticed the way he stood. Straightened back, balled hands, his head was tilted downward. But most importantly, his black slacks didn’t sag below his waist, and his black suit was groomed and well statured.

While everyone was silent, Kenji walked right where Christian stood.

“Do not mistake his kidnapping with your doing. He chose to secure your safety.”

Having a hand on Christian’s shoulder, he felt the emotions that were all bottled in his body. Struggling to choose which, Kenji slightly put pressure, but the boy didn’t budge. Keeping his eyes on the wooden cross… all of his shaking was from his fists.

“Christian Hernando. Do not let revenge guide your whole being.”

Christian loosened the shaking, but he kept his fingers into his palms. Feeling his shoulders tense even more… he couldn’t harbor anger. Not that he could, but he wished he didn’t.

“At the cost of such philosophy, one will either sacrifice himself, or for the sake of others.”

Stinging his eyes red, he tried to keep that intimidating look, but it only made him quiver. Feeling the lumps in his throat, it jumped, again and again like the recoil of a gun.

“What would Manny want you to do?”

A single tear escaped.

Feeling a small cold line of water, it made him raise a hand toward his cheek. His nails tracing it, he opened his lips, but only an inch apart. Churning his lips down, way down, his whole body began to inhale forcingly. Thrust after after, each intake of oxygen floured his lungs. Unable to contain the emotions he had locked up, two more lines of water escaped. Then four, then…

He covered his mouth with one of his hands. Unable to ball them any further, he had them occupied on his face.

Kenji sniffled once, yet he cleared his throat to push down the emotion. He felt a palm, one that was pressed onto his shoulder. Knowing it was Iris, she did her best to console him.

‘We’ll bring peace to your grave… and for the future of others.’

Glancing to his right, Pacifica and Chris hugged the teen delinquent with grieving eyes.

‘But who knows when…’

________________________________________________________________________

He began to remember that day.

How it all played, and how it all crumbled down, it was a coconomy of dominoes. One thing leading another, the end result was him changing for the greater good. But what good does it make if one relapses?

“How about mine first!?”

The barrel of his Thompson roared. Hearing the metal of his gun rattle, his bones and muscles sacked in static. But most of all, his own tongue grew weary, grew parched the longer he…

She reached in front of him.

‘Shit!’

Jumping to his right, he was barely fast enough to dodge her punch. Not wanting to feel that pain, he imagined the very thought of losing, so he fired the barrel longer than he should’ve.

Keeping his eyes on her, she twirled and spun with only her heels. Doing a complete 360 spin, she arched her feet, and jabbed the metal floor in.

‘Shit shit shit!’

She sprung out her left foot. Kicking away the Thompson with one kick, it flew right near a bottle of nitroglycerin. Christian walked back, while Vivy returned her feet to the metal floor. After everything that she pulled, she lunged forward. Her arms pulled back, she daggered her eyes straight into—

“T-Take this!”

From his pocket, he threw a simple bottle. It held nothing, as the liquid was clear and similar to water. Yet as soon as it landed… the glass instantly shattered.

“Huh?”

Avoiding the small glass bottle, it struck one of the small metal columns behind her. As the liquid splashed on, the metal that was already rusted began to melt. Leaping to the right, she noticed he pulled more out.

“Don’t think that’ll stop me!”

Winding up her arm, she arched her body like a bullet. Zig-zagging through the floor, some spots of the floor were dented from her fight with Pacifica. Knowing the weakened spots, she could use it to her advantage.

Christian jumped back, and threw two bottles in predicted directions. At given angles, the only thing that truly determined his win rate was his luck.

‘Got to not mess this up.’

As soon as the two glasses shattered, the liquid sprayed in all directions. The metal being steamed, it groaned under the intensity of that mysterious liquid.

His hands already in his pockets, he had them stuffed in while he waited. Because she zig-zagged, the tip of her heels traced out small lines of smoke. Friction being created, Christian felt time tick against his ear.

“You fell for it!”

He pulled out two more bottles. But with his right hand, he opened the lid and flung it out. With his left, he lowered the bottle to his hip, and he too opened it.

For a split second, she saw bursts of liquid coming toward her. Unable to choose which one to deal with, the bottom of her heels slid against the metal. Holding her breath, she did the only reasonable thing… She hardened a shield.

“I think you fell for it!”

Or did he? Because after seeing her shield, he stood with only a smirk to his face. His boots glued to the walkway, he wanted to make a tch sound, but it was already too late.

—As a loudening boom roared his ears.—

Sending him back a couple of feet, his eyes took in white for a split second. Slamming his back against something, he coughed, as smoke escaped from his mouth. His eardrums ringing, he cradled his stomach, as if someone had punched him in the gut.

‘Get up will ya?’ Using his right hand, he pulsated whatever bicep and shoulder muscles he had. He shook his head, and slowly rose from the floor. Hissing air from his throat, he felt his arms slug against his body… while he stared at the small cloud of smoke. ‘She won’t go down that easily.’

Controlling his breath, each inhale of air marinated his lungs and throat. With his right hand, he balled it into a fist, while his left flattened on his thigh.

The smoke cloud faded, to which showed a woman panting with a pale face. Her shield cracked in half, the explosion from the liquid numbed her muscles and bones. Liquid swirled around her palms.

“Why am I even struggling?” Her left palm crafted a shield, the same one she always created. With her right, she created her same old javelin, with the tip barbed and sharpened. Twirling her javelin, her frown worsened the longer she stared at him. Feeling her eyes darken, Christian scanned his surroundings, and couldn’t find a trace of his Thompson. “You don’t have anything, nothing to combat my blessing. You’re only riding on stupid luck.”

She had a soft palm in the center. Having her shield out in front of her, she calmly pressed her eyes on him, and thrust her arm back. Feeling her own bones crackle, her forehead shingled in wrinkles, ones she contained with hardened cheeks. Throwing the javelin at last, her own hair rippled, leaving the projectile to—

“Ha!”

He lunged to the right, right at the moment where it zipped past his ear. Without sprawling to the floor, his left knee hung an inch over it, until he shook his head and got up. Keeping his eyes narrowed, he soared all that he had in his thighs, and down his shins. As he sprinted toward the other side.

“Oh no you don’t!”

Throwing her arm back again, another javelin melded itself into her palm. With a strained shoulder, it pinched into her skin, as the very tip stripped the air from its purity. Lunging to the left, he was able to duck his head in time, but he felt liquid splash onto him, liquid that hissed and steamed his clothes and skin.

“Grah!”

Glancing back, he saw her already form another one. Instead of gunning toward him, she assaulted him with javelin after javelin, making him play a deadly game of tag. Sliding to the right, to the left, all he could do was run forward.

But once he reached that other side…

‘Oh no…’

Another spear throttled toward him.

With widened eyes, he noticed the little reflection of the tip. Holding his breath, he stared, and gulped saliva down his parched throat. Turning around to face the javelin, it spun until Christian did the only thing he could do…

‘I have no choice huh…’ Side-stepping to the left, he stuck out his right hand. Right before—

—It barbed against his hand.—

Feeling it wallow and spread his bones apart, blood instantly wallowed from the prison. His arm growing heavy, he instantly slammed his butt against the floor. It was like a knife had thrust into his palm, with the metal blazing in magma.

Eating away at his nerves, he growled and groaned within his throat. Having his knuckles rested on the metallic floor, his eyes sprouted miniscule veins.

“Damn…”

But the spear didn’t explode. Washing and littering into his body, he felt that truly burning sensation. Hitting his head against the canyon wall, he clenched his teeth, and felt saliva run down his lips…

All the while he heard the metal thump. In front of him, or rather far in the distance, one woman twirled her javelin with a crooked wrist. Her steps increasing in decibels, he stared at her with creased eyes.

“Do you think you had a chance in stopping me?” She didn’t roar, nor did she coarse her vocals in loudness. Once she stopped twirling her javelin, she laid it right against her side. “I’m better. I’m stronger. You’re nothing compared to me.” He could hardly feel his legs, as all of his heat soared into his right palm. Some of the bars below being tainted red, most of his blood dribbled into the canyon below. “Being the summer ant you are, I’m going to reunite you with your brother. How does that sound?” She stood right in front of him.

Casting a shadow, he was given no choice but to look up. He didn’t raise his hands, nor did he beg. Both of his knuckles laying on the metal, his hung mouth sprouted out wheeze after wheeze until he whispered.

“Can I say a few words?”

Vivy kept her javelin low, as her fingers brushed against the hardened bleach. Cocking her head to the right, her frown only worsened. “Gonna flirt your way out? The only thing that’ll make me horny is your dead body.”

“No, hell no… it’s about what I have.” Christian tried to smirk, but his cheeks only soured upon the strain he plunged them with. The more he gasped, the more he inhaled, it dealt greatly with her frustration. “Despite how normal I look, I wield something similar to you guys…”

“And that is?”

“Try to guess.”

Vivy rolled her eyes. By the way he fought, he had no strength or movement with his legs. Not only that, but he relied way too much on his Thompson. Taking it away, he began using bottles, ones that housed special liquids.

“And you didn’t use it?”

“It’s nothing too grand, hell I don’t think it’s either the offensive or the defensive type. You could barely call it a support type…”

Moving his left hand, he familiarized the layout of rubber. Being small in size, it still held air pressurized from within. Although it held nothing unique, he had his fingers squeeze into the material. Seeing the tire, Vivy wrinkled her brow.

“But I have the ability to alter my hearing, or rather manipulate my eardrums. Funny huh? How does that even work in a fight? I could pick up the faintest sounds, or make myself deaf, but that’s pretty much it…”

Taking a step forward, she sneered, before thrusting her right arm back. Right before she could even throw it… he grinned. Staring right into her eyes, one iris was largened over the other. Like he had gone mad, the hot wind finally subsided into the background.

“So use this information as you wish.”

She growled, before throwing the javelin straight at—he moved his left hand. Extending it out, the small tire that he carried…

—Their eardrums rocked with noise.—

It was like hearing a shotgun go off near his ears. Making her tumble onto the floor, the boom didn’t just traverse their bodies. Rattling the whole catwalk and the train track on top, it beheld a thundering echo for the canyon.

Despite protecting her eardrums, Vivy’s palms weren’t enough to deter the noise.

‘What the…’

—Blood trickled from her ears.—

Unable to hear anything, she scanned her left and right like a lost child. Her shield crumbled like wax, it sank into the metal, and down the canyon below.

With his left hand, Christian snatched the Thompson near the volatile bottle. As he ran, he made his way toward the ladder, giving her no choice but to get up.

‘Got to change my hearing to normal…’

Without any glow or light, the wind that blew in his left ear prickled his hair. Hearing the wind whistle, noise itself began to return. And as he sprinted with all his might, so did Vivy. The two bulging their thighs from their sprint, Vivy herself growled. Saliva whimpering down her lips, she extended both her hands out to—

The floor snapped. By instinct, she grabbed the edge of the railing, and curled her fingers around it. Waving his legs up and down, she widened her eyes, before turning them toward…

“You… you!”

She couldn’t hear her own yell, but the woman who watched at the edge of the canyon did. Having no smirk or grin plaster her face, she instead narrowed her eyes, and pushed a nasty frown. Her body on the verge of crumbling, it looked like she already hoisted her last act.

“You’re not taking me!”

Her left hand hoisted down, bleach cultivated once more within her palm. Crafting a javelin, she lifted her body up, she stared right at Christian.

He fired a single bullet, but the metal was not for her.

Roaring the canyon’s walls once more, small rocks shambled from their hide. Having one hand on the ladder, while the other gripped his Thompson, gunsmoke trailed out of the barrel. It struck where that simple bottle was, that bottle of clear liquid.

“DAMN YOU!!”

—Heat enveloped the center of the bridge.—

Turning around, Christian huddled his head in like a turtle. Hanging onto the ladder for dear life, every inch of his nails dug deep into the metal railing. Feeling pecks of wood pinch his back, and even metal, he clenched his teeth as he took it all in.

Adrenaline soaring in his body, he forgot he had a hole in his right hand. Once the blast subsided, he peeked his head out, and took note of… it was all laced in smoke. Lingering all throughout the catwalk, and also the train track, he gulped saliva down his throat.

‘What have we done…’

Staring at the puff of smoke, he heard footsteps, even through ringing ears.

“Hey brother.”

Despite her whole body gleaming pale, she walked right where Christian was. Cradling the loosened ladder, he heard it squirm, meaning its hinges were already loosened. Keeping himself still, he stared at her, making her lay out a hand laced with sweat.

“Here.”

Tucking away his Thompson into his hip, he nodded, and grasped her with pulsating force. Using his left hand, he laid his right to his side, until he was finally free from the ladder’s steps. Right as his boots cradled the ground, he collapsed right then and there on the ground. Laying on his back, he stared up at the sky, one that began to trickle with stars.

“We did it…”

“We sure did. How’s that hand holding up?”

“My hand? It’s—ah!”

The pain bit into him. Clenching his eyes shut, he did his best to control his breathing, as he huffed air through his widened nostrils. Kneeling down beside him, Pacifica rubbed his hair with her hand.

“Now now boy, don’t you worry. That blondie will surely heal you up.”

“Bandages. I need bandages.”

“We don’t have any boy! You oughta suck it up for now.”

“Ah! F-Fine!”

Groaning through his throat, blood still grumbled down his palm. Continuing to look up at the night sky, Pacifica turned her head to see the stars at last. Her eyes didn’t sparkle, but even so, she soothed all that she built up within her shoulders.

“Hey brother, is Vivy dumb?”

Christian turned his body to the left, and laid his shoulder on its side. Staring at Pacifica, his face still cringed with wrinkles, the pain slowly grew on him but his face still paled.

“Why do you care?”

“Because any normal girl would’ve thrown away those bottles. If she was smart, she could’ve milked that explosive water, and turn it into bleach; yet she didn’t.”

Throughout the entirety of their fight, she never once acknowledged the nitroglycerin. Being the main objective in their plan, it was as if she allowed them to succeed. Pacifica narrowed her eyes, and cradled one arm around her leg.

“Do you think she—”

“Give it a rest will ya? If she really wanted to be free, she could’ve followed Johnny’s footsteps instead of her dad.”

Turning over on his back once more, his hair ruffled against the red dirt. The silence loudening, he looked at the stars, as there was no light pollution to litter the sky. Glittering his eyes, the only thing he moved within his cringed face, was to conjure a smile.

“Like the old saying goes… you oughta grow before you can fly.”