The Grand Final (2)

Three silhouettes passed through the hallway. I only caught sight of their shadows, discreet as specters.

"Aurora. Stand up straight. Don’t concern yourself with men’s affairs."

Her voice was as striking as her beauty. A single glance was enough to feel suffocated. My heart closed just as her dark lips did. Her hands rested on my chubby cheeks. She turned my head to refocus on the mirror. It reflected reality to the letter, but our portrait was anything but authentic. Fake. Just fake. Her fluttering eyelashes were the result of absolute control. Every scrap of fabric, every strand of hair... Everything had been meticulously chosen in advance. No room for feelings.

"Why can’t I be with Big Brother?"

The little girl could never understand what lay hidden behind that gaze when she replied in the mirror:

"Men are revolutionizing the world. We are here to give them birth. We pass on their qualities to the next generation. But you… You have no qualities. So if you don’t present yourself as perfect, no one will want you."

This vision pained the little girl within me. How could she grasp such an absurd reasoning? What could she have done to prevent the catastrophe?

I’m sorry, Big Brother. I had to do something. I couldn’t let them destroy you.

The noble behind Big Brother scoundrel savored the spectacle of my weakness. He let out a victorious laugh, "You’re almost as beautiful a specimen as he was..."

That was the final straw. After everything we endured to please them, all those hours of solitude, the toil and punishment… We were worth no more than freak show specimens. They had never regarded us as human beings. Not once since our birth. His blood-red eyes continued to probe my soul. As if I were an unwelcome presence.

Stop looking at me like that! I don’t belong to you! I’m not your work of art! I’m not one of your kind!

“A specimen? Is that what he was to you? Take back what you said. Take it back, you filthy piece of trash!”

I didn’t want to scream, but I had lost all control over my voice. What had come out of my mouth had been suppressed for far too long.

“It’s only the stark truth.” declared Big Brother’s progenitor.

The truth is always unpleasant. I was determined to rewrite it, no matter the cost. His steel claws raked against the glass wall. He hadn’t given up on the idea of escaping from here. He pounded the wall until it finally yielded to the shockwaves. The blows echoed in my head, marking the seconds. I was incapable of getting back up, no matter how much I ordered myself to do so.

My mind drifted between past and present, plunged into a sort of trance from that damned smoke. The image of Big Brother and his family shattered abruptly when the glass cage cracked. The crystalline snap pulled me back to reality.

“You little…! You had it all planned out!”

Perhaps so. No matter how much you scratch, dirt like you always refuses to disappear.

The progenitor body had been replaced by De Ritella. His broad hat had returned to his head. He cast one of the most hateful looks I had seen in ten years of my career. I gave him a sly smile in return. I expected nothing less when creating three layers to my barrier. Only a disintegration magic could get him out of this nightmare.

What a shame; the door was so close… Enraged, he threw three grenades at me. The spheres, no bigger than a fist, flashed. I could make out the runes etched on the metal capsules. I didn’t have time to avoid the explosions before spikes of ice erupted in every direction. One of them pierced my thigh, followed by a spray of acid projected near my face. As if that weren’t enough, a sandstorm trapped me in its center.

Thousands of grains whipped my face, and the acid melted my skin before my eyes, but being insensitive to pain, it was merely a minor setback. As I had anticipated, the shockwaves against the glass resumed with renewed vigor.

No matter how much time he bought with his artifacts, it would never be enough to destroy a dome as resilient as mine. He had no idea how many targets had tried before him. Fight after fight, it had allowed me to detect weaknesses in my magic and reinforce my barriers.

Go ahead and exert yourself if it pleases you; my barriers are impenetrable.

I ignored the raging sandstorm to focus on my injured leg. To free it from its prison, I transformed my palms into two kettles that converted the ice into steam. Now operational again, I mentally devised a plan to conclude the mission neatly. All this elemental tempest was perfect for concealing my presence, even though it obstructed my vision as much as De Ritella’s.

Blind fighting, a classic training exercise, courtesy of Justine.

Having already memorized the target’s location, I stealthily emerged from the opaque storm and charged straight at him. De Ritella saw my frontal attack coming but not the feint: at the last moment, I solidified the air beneath my feet and jumped from step to step until I was a meter above him.

The third step served as a springboard to reach the glass dome, where I pushed off before launching into a backflip. It was impossible for him to see me coming from his blind spot. I snatched the hat from mid-air and landed in front of him. The artifact melted upon contact with my burning hands. In a matter of seconds, it was reduced to ashes.

“My hat! You’ll pay for that!”

My response was reduced to violent lashes. The small blade embedded in the tip of my boot flew just under his nose. It was becoming increasingly difficult for him to contort and keep up with my rhythm. Every artifact has its limits, and his Yegass fur was no exception.

With an impassive face, I countered his claws and their shockwaves with the dragon scale armor covering my uniform. My physical strength was such that all the energy accumulated in my forearms turned against him.

De Ritella lost his balance several times, retreating uncontrollably. I gave no respite to my prey, leaping onto him the moment he pulled away. Slowed by fatigue, I managed to break his nose, but when I aimed for his stomach, a magical breastplate appeared out of nowhere.

Until the end, the bastard was determined to make my task more complicated. He held back a scream, biting his lips for what felt like ages, but that didn’t stop him from mocking me with sneering grins. I finally managed to block one of his arms by grabbing his claws with my bare hands.

You won’t escape me this time.

“Let me go!”

I twisted his wrist with a quick, deft motion.

“You’re nothing but an hideous monster, so if you think I’ll hold back…” I remarked.

Those would be the last words he’d hear in his life. His rectangular claws dug deep into my acid-ravaged hand. As long as I didn’t let go, he couldn’t retract them. The man sent me a ridiculous hook that I parried with one arm. The shockwave dislocated my shoulder, but I didn’t care as long as I achieved my goal.

My indifference unsettled him. In desperation, he intensified his pounding against my shoulder and ribs. His shockwaves inflicted immense pressure, but I was ready to endure it as many times as necessary. He could break my bones and tear off my arm if he wanted; nothing would make me let go.

The blood dripping from my hand formed a continuous stream. By tightening my grip, the three blades shattered with alarming ease. The nobleman froze in horror as he realized I was cheating.

He was about to bring it up when my hand crushed his throat, lifting his feet a few centimeters off the ground as if he weighed nothing. He struggled, letting out muffled gargles before losing consciousness.

In fact, I didn’t even need the syringe hidden in my sleeve… I realized. Time to move on to step two. Edwoyn.

A marvelous idea had crossed my mind when the Marquis had used hallucinogenic gas to manipulate me. Now I had confirmation: he operated on suggestion, and my dear recruit had inhaled a significant amount.

So, I started screaming at the top of my lungs, producing the worst howls I could muster as I emptied the entire magazine into my stomach. Years of observation and training—how proud I was! My acting was indistinguishable from reality.

While continuing my moans, I placed the man on the ground. I threw myself away to simulate a fall, then got back up without wasting time and returned toward my target.

Straddling the man, I began my performance. I imitated his victorious laughter in a voice altered by magic, first removing the anti-magic collar and then the brooch from his jacket. This artifact activated the translucent breastplate that had surprised me earlier.

Finally free, I slashed the nobleman several times in areas rich in blood flow with my shortest blade. His torn clothes quickly soaked up the blood. I exaggerated the amount of liquid on the ground with illusions. All that was left was to position the gun in the Marquis’s hands, reposition myself to simulate the fall of a fainting spell, and… Action!

“Edwoyn! Help me!”

The boy burst out of the secret passage shortly after I freed him from his paralysis.

“Aurora, Aurora! You’re alive!” he exclaimed in a panic.

His magnificent green eyes stared at me in horror. He rushed towards me, unsure of what to do, unable to tear his gaze away from my mortal wounds.

I gave him a sorrowful smile, biting my tongue to let a drop of blood flow. Details matter, you see! He clumsily brought his hands close to my face. I seized them while activating a cooling spell.

“He drank a potion that turned him into this… monster,” I murmured between wrenching coughs. “I did what I could… I need you to finish… it…”

“But we need to heal you first!”

“I’ll be fine. He mustn’t… Hurry and take him out… There… potions… downstairs, but him… first.”

When my partner realized whom I was talking about, he lost his composure and followed my gaze. He was right to fear the worst. His reaction was even more pronounced than I had anticipated.

I didn't know how his imagination had transformed the nobleman into a monster, but judging by his expression, it couldn't have been charming. Tears welled in his eyes.

How naive... He wiped away his emotions with a sniff and slowly approached the monster. In intense stress situations, the mind dissociates to protect its integrity. This made my victims docile pawns, unable to grasp what was happening.

Clearly in shock, he picked up the gun I left in the Marquis's hands. Its magazine held enough bullets to take a life. I found myself sighing: what an idiot; this was not the time for doubt. It wasn’t as if De Ritella was going to wake up, but still...

"Edwoyn... the mission, quickly..." I urged him in a feverish voice.

He stared at me with doe eyes for a long time. I read an empathy completely foreign to me. Did he pity me because I looked frail and cared about the well-being of the inhabitants of Cerem? That was indeed the goal. However, I had to admit that being looked at this way was somewhat insulting. I would never be weak again.

Never again.

"Kill him... It's an order."

His gaze shifted between the gun, his target, and me. He started to hyperventilate.

"I'm sorry, I can't!"

Good grief, Edwoyn, you're really exasperating. How far do I have to go for you to take initiative in your pathetic existence?

He broke down in spasms and sobs, a true mama's boy. At that moment, I knew I had to drive the point home myself if I wanted to get anything out of him.

I reluctantly abandoned my theatrical performance. With a abnormal calm, my fingers searched for the small pieces of metal lodged between my organs like a bean in a king cake.

Ugh, these things are even slipperier than a bar of soap!

Once that was done, I stretched and healed all my wounds with a silent incantation. Healing spells were the basics of a mercenary's trade. Don't expect to survive more than a year without patching yourself up from all sides. With a new incantation, all the crimson puddles evaporated with a snap of my fingers.

Come on, I motivated myself, get to work, Aurora. Big Brother is waiting for you.

I crossed the haze with a determined stride. My aura overwhelmed him to the point of petrifying him in place, "What...?"

He was so weak that he couldn't even follow his instincts to flee from me. His little brain was just beginning to realize what had really happened during this mission. That I was an even more dangerous creature than the monster we were fighting. My butterfly knife lay at my feet. I picked it up.

The silence in the room was so profound that the sound of my footsteps marked a countdown before the point of no return. Murder. Edwoyn didn’t have to worry.

Contrary to what most thought, murders weren't necessarily bloody massacres. The beauty of murder lay in its ability to be a peaceful release. I positioned myself behind him and let my arms wrap around him. This boy was dear to me. My embrace tightened at the thought of losing him. He did not react, as if stripped of his own will. We both needed each other to feel better.

It’s okay, I’m here. I’ll guide you. You’ll see, it’s very simple.

Gently, I rested my head on his shoulder. His muscles were tense. His hair smelled like wheat, as intoxicating as a sunbath. I made sure not to make any sudden movements to avoid triggering an extreme reaction. One mustn't forget he was in a highly unstable mental state. Traumatized targets were very malleable, but also unpredictable.

I could feel all the psychological weight lifting as the weapon slipped from his hands. No doubt he was thanking me inwardly. He could finally breathe again; he no longer had to worry; I would take care of everything.

Or not.

He had thought too soon. His relief turned into terror when he saw an enchanted blade enter his field of vision, replacing the silencer.

Close to his ear, my lips whispered a precious piece of advice, “There’s nothing more satisfying than killing with your own hands. It would be a shame to let a gun do it for you, wouldn’t it?”

Fate had given me the chance to reunite with Big Brother a little earlier than expected. How could I refuse such a generous reward?