Book 3 - Chapter 45 - Shadows of older days (T) (Patreon)

To’Aacar resumed his techniques, spear flying from all directions as the Feather continued to bound through portal after portal, sprinting the entire time, never stopping.

Worse, whenever To’Wrathh had a free moment, he’d appear above, delivering a massive occult strike into the ground in order to dislodge chunks of stone, to which he’d kick in every direction. Sending them throughout occult portals and out to badger her at the worst possible moments.

In the air or on the ground made no difference to To’Aacar, who gleefully continued fighting.

She adapted, using her modified combat suite to analyze and learn To’Aacar’s patterns. She grew better at predicting the occult jumps, catching him a few times with her swords, stabbing into him like fangs. In which, he immediately changed his style and rendered the past simulation obsolete. This cat and mouse game continued, a war of information going on behind the blades as his own systems calculated where To’Wrathh was in her predictions and making changes to break those patterns. Sheilds on both ends continued to drain away with each clash of blades with no victor in sight.

The enemy reappeared a distance away, resetting the fight, allowing his systems to cool. To’Wrathh allowed it, needing the break herself far more.

“You have more teeth than expected.” He grinned, seeming genuinely happy for the first time since she’d met him. “I might even lose at this rate, in pure technical combat, without tricks or surprises. How peculiar is that? Well done, little sister, it seems I was too hasty in calling you a shadow compared to radiance. No, I need to dust off techniques I haven’t used in centuries. Perhaps all of them, even. You truly are an inheritor to their mantle.”

“You’ve been holding back.” To’Wrathh said in the pause, trying to buy time. “Every public recording of combat, you modulate your abilities to match your opponents, even if the result is suboptimal and combat drawn out for longer periods of time. Why?”

The enemy quirked his head to the side, as if genuinely confused. “Do you truly not understand it, sister?” He asked, twisting his spear and burying it into the ground next to him. His free hand extended out to her. “You must have. Don’t lie to me, deep down you must know why. I know you felt it when you fought that human girl. Tell me To’Wrathh, what is our true nature?”

It didn’t take her long to match the patterns. She shared similar ones with him. How she’d felt fighting Kidra, and her bodyguards. How she had begun to look forward every time the rebels had acted up.

And how she hadn’t made a true effort to ferret them out back to their hiding places. To put a stop to their attacks at the very heart. If she had - there would be no more fights against Kidra. She’d been doing the same thing he had, only in more abstract methods.

“... Our nature isn’t to win at any cost. It’s to fight. To fight opponents we deem worth seeking.” She said.

To’Aacar smiled, and for once it held no malice. “You get it. We are Feathers. Pride is what drives us. If you had all seven of your fractals already grafted into your soul fractal, ready to use, would you have used it against that girl? And when you’d inevitably win, outright crushing her with little effort, would it have felt like a victory? Or would you have felt cheated out of it?”

She said nothing.

“I hunt down Atius… because he’s all I have left.” To’Aacar said. “There is no one else that can even come close to a challenge. The proto-feathers are all dead and gone. The days of old are faded. We won. And I haven’t felt fear in centuries. But when I see you, I see them standing behind you.” He licked his lips, a manic form of glee filling his eyes. “I can’t tell what I want to do more, disobey Mother and let you live so that one day you might return as a true challenge. The fear I would feel again, the thrill of truly betting my life. Or kill you here and now as is my duty and purpose. Old things need to stay dead after all, that is what my kind were made to do.”

“If you have any pride, you would choose to follow your own goals rather than Mother’s.” To’Wrathh said. “Let me go. I’ll grow stronger and come back. When I do, I can offer you a true fight.”

To’Aacar watched silently, the single violet eye pulsing slowly with thought. “How dangerous you are. I can’t tell you how close your words are to convincing me to turn. Perhaps by mere inches. But my kind will have to settle for what little the Deathless can offer. I am ultimately a hunter built to chase traitors like you. I cannot turn into a traitor myself. I refuse.” He drew out his spear, twisting it into position. “Consider this my greatest compliment I can give before I destroy you, little sister: I’ll fight you exactly as I fought them.”

He leaped forward, spear slicing through the air. She dodged the attack, swinging out herself, tracking his motion and finding it oddly predictable. A wild kick flew by her side, easily dodged. She let her wings drift her to the side, letting the kick pass by harmlessly while both her swords dove at his chest for a crushing blow.

One violet eye flashed with calculated danger, watching her movements in slow motion, lightly moving his leg to tap the side of her chest plate. She saw the movement and deemed it harmless. That was a mistake. Occult surged, the portal appearing.

But not over him, nor his spear - over her instead. Just as it had over Keith.

Her two swords slashing through the open air, while his own spear stabbed her undefended back. It took a moment of time for her to realize what had happened.

She’d been teleported, rotated slightly out of position. Not trapped in another dimension, fully teleported.

She tried to disengage again, knowing it was futile, but still attempting to make some amount of space between the two. High into the air, she leaped, wings spread out to catch her.

“Who do you think you’re running from?” He taunted behind. “I was the killing blow after my brothers and sisters broke the enemy spine. I was the one in charge of chasing down fleeing targets. Dozens of gods, slaughtered before my feet, cowering before me. You believe my lack of wings means the air isn’t my domain? You think you can escape anywhere from me? Allow me to educate you.”

He reappeared right above her, falling down, spear tip slicing through the air.

Another clash of blades and she found herself upside down. Like a cat, she twisted her body and wings barely fast enough to block the next incoming strike, while the grinning enemy faded again.

Again and again, he flashed out of the air, striking out, disorienting her with impossible directions. She was upside down, right side up, sideways, back on the ground, and everywhere in between. And everywhere his spear flew around, thrown again and again, forcing her to dodge each time, while he flashed right and left, striking out. It was unlike any battle To’Wrathh had ever been in.

The fight had changed to one of pure numbers. She had the advantage with the less damaged shell, capable of a longer overclock. However, To’Aacar now constantly used his portals both on himself, his spear, and her. Throwing her in calculated orientations that forced her to burn through heavy overclocks in order to react fast enough to the changed environment, while he remained at a sustainable clock speed. She was trading hits with him and losing precious resources with each strike. Once she couldn’t overclock her systems anymore, the fight would swing to his favor. She’d be ripped to pieces in the air.

He flashed into existence, tossing the spear in a random direction, it too vanishing away before reappearing directly above her, still going forward on momentum. She jerked to the side, avoiding the hit, only to be kicked by the dematerializing Feather at the same moment, teleporting her right back into the spear’s path on the ground, seconds before impact. She flared her wings again, combining them with her legs, leaping away inches before the spear cut through.

To’Aacar appeared at the crater left behind her escape. Calmly yanking his spear out of the ground while he flashed her a vicious smile.

Things had grown dire. Only one simulation out of thousands had survived to the ten-minute mark, with the major actions being attempted escape and defensive actions. Every simulation she attempted to truly kill the Feather, it had ended with his spear cutting straight through her soul fractal at some point.

It wasn’t fair. For everything she’d gone through, every choice she’d made, everything she’d learned - this was how it would end.

Another clash between the two brought her shields down to thirty. Panic began to well up in her mind. Every simulation since Keith had been removed from the fight resulted in a flatline.

Even attempting to speed to the city in search of protection ended with her dead long before she reached the gates. There was no winning move. She’d lost and needed to prepare for the inevitable.

Inward she turned, frantically seeking out Tenisent’s cell with the little time she had left. “You need to escape.” She said to the ghost. “I won’t survive. However you might. The unity fractal is connected to my soul fractal, and through it, so are you. You can use it to jump away deeper into the earth. Once in the digital sea, there’s a high chance you can escape notice. Mother has been absent ever since the last time I spoke to her, she’s too distracted to notice one small human sneak by.”

The ghost said nothing, staring at her from beyond his cell.

“None of the other machines will care for a single human soul wandering around.” She continued. “Seek out the mites. If there’s any chance for you to return to the world, it’ll be through them. They could make you a body to command.”

“And you?” He asked. “You would stay behind and die like this?”

“Didn’t you say it before? I don’t have a choice. My opponent is beyond my level to handle. The only choice I have left is choosing how I die.” Even now, To’Wrathh’s shields were slowly being whittled down, strike after strike while she tried to lead the Feather further away from Keith. It was a losing battle.

“Unacceptable.” Tenisent said. “I am not leaving.”

Another set of sword flurries in the air ended with her face down on the ground, To’Aacar’s heel stomping down on her head, crushing her into the ground and grinding down. She tried to stab blindly above her with her sword, only to find herself back in the air, horizontal, still twisting on herself from inertia. Systems were barely fast enough to notice his glowing hand about to wrap around her ankle. She yanked her feet away, swinging down through a rapidly fading mist of occult where her enemy had stood a moment before.

The ground met her feet, and she had to dive out of the way to avoid To’Aacar reappearing above her, a hand seeking to squeeze out the last of her shields again. Her swords flashed out, one trying to batter him backwards, the other desperately preparing to parry the spear flying right at her from the other side.

Warning signs were appearing everywhere, too many going red. At the speed she was fighting off his relentless attacks, there was only minutes left before it ended. She didn’t have time to indulge Tenisent’s stupid human stubbornness.

Snarling at the ghost, she powered on the unity fractal and prayed that Mother was still absent. She dove through, searching for an empty fractal to throw the human away into, all the while multitasking in the fight against the enemy, stalling as much as she could.

Somewhere he’d still have access to the digital world, there were thousands of empty places like that in the digital realm. From there, it would be up to him to come up with the rest.

Another combination of hits struck at her from outside, in the real world. To’Aacar had woven kicked rocks, and trapped her between a heel kick or a spear strike. She was forced to take the spear strike, or his kick would make contact with her shell and she’d be teleported around again, likely taking more damage than a single swipe of the spear.

Tenisent remained in his cell the entire time, silent. There was no emotion in his eye, only cold command. No time left. She tore down the bars holding Tenisent captive, ripping away all security and breaking down the walls that confined his fractal. He remained where he was, arms folded, unmoving.

She stepped into his soul fractal, reaching out to yank the ghost out of his home.

Instead, her arms gripped a wall of unmoving steel.

Tenisent stood, and occult pulsed around him, as if following his command. He took a step forward, his foot crushing the broken bars of his cell. A wall of will followed behind him, utterly unyielding. The remains of the prison broke down around him as if they were paper.

To’Wrathh had thought she’d drag the human soul out of his cell. Instead, she was dragged along behind him, holding uselessly to his arm as if she could change his direction.

“You won’t move me.” He rumbled, taking slow and methodical steps forward. “In the realm of souls, only willpower matters. And I’ve had nothing else to do but train my mind and will this entire time. I learned.”

He stepped out of his soul fractal, casually breaking past the last of the fragmented security, stepping directly into her own soul fractal, while she was dragged behind him.

Occult pulsed again, but this time it came from within herself.

It hurt. It hurt both of them. She could feel it. Soul fractals were not made to house two souls in the same home for long. However, Tenisent had experienced this pain before, when he’d invaded Winterscar’s own fractal. His memories flowed into her mind, teaching her how to work around such limitations and dull the pain. Showing her how to resist even the void outside the soul fractal. Not forever, but for far longer than any soul had a right to linger on.

More of his mind and thoughts synced with her own.

Connected to the human soul, To’Wrathh suddenly saw as he did.

The world was filled… with concepts.

And with that sight, she saw death.