The Edge

*Kudos to Deadhead for figuring out a few of these things. I have my plot planned pretty nicely, especially the large things like this, but hey, he did figure out a thing or two along the way, just not fully. I respect that. Welp, today's chapter came in kind of late since I wasted my day by waiting for someone who didn't arrive anyway :)))

Welp, enjoy the chapter, and see you all next time. Peace out, and Deus vult*

It was a split-second decision on his side, one he didn't fully commit his mind to. Sure, try and follow the others, but how was he going to just push past the swarm of monsters? He'd just fluke it. 

"I'm on!" 

His metal pipe pointed to the ground, running right through the skull of a burning creature that resembled a Silvermane Guard, dropping it to the ground with a thud as loud as the one from his making contact with the ground. Relentless, he swung the weapon around, using its length to his advantage, hitting as many foes as possible with all his movements, his back put into it despite the pain. 

It all slowly faded into unconsciousness—the pain, the fatigue—leaving nothing but him and the enemies before his eyes. They were many, but their mindless attitudes gave him an egde that he clung to with his teeth. One more hit, one more crystal bird on the ground. Another swing, and a poleaxe slid along the pipe, away from him, only for its other side to end up slammed against the side of the monster's head. 

"What I need right now is an opening among their ranks. I'm trying to back out in the direction where the others went, but I can't do it fast since the monsters are plenty more than what I can chew." 

He grinned, slowly coming to the realization that decisions taken on a whim under the effect of intense adrenaline aren't always the best. 

"Soldiers, fire!" 

Gepard's order rang out, and from all across the wall, the soldiers fired at the same time, clearing a path for him. No words were needed, since Mark knew exactly what to do. His legs took the lead, moving before his mind could order them to. It was his internal turmoil that guided his actions. 

"Thanks, Gepard! I owe you one!" 

Those were the last words that Mark said before dashing away from the mindless Fragmentum monsters, heading out on a way that was slowly coming back to him in the form of memories. Behind him, the soldiers kept firing, distracting the monsters and luring them away from him. 

The moments became clearer, the blood that ran along his face scarce, just a few droplets as the memories and the actual action taking place around him began syncing up. 

"I have to keep running, but damn, my stamina sucks ass even with those little enhancements I felt in myself!" 

While fast since he was a kid, the fatal flaw that kept him down was the pain that slowly built up inside of him the more he ran. It was as if his heart and lungs couldn't keep up with the continuous intake and supply needed for his entire body. Still, he ran, giving it his all to interrupt a disaster. By the time he had caught sight of the other remnants of civilization, close to where those weird shadows of Cocolia and Bronya lingered, a large beam thundered down from the sky. 

"Himeko. Damn it, I'm too slow!" 

Time slowed down around him as he ran, feeling like everything would soon crumble down. He had little time left and no plan on how to save Cocolia. He knew how the battle would unfold, the memory more vivid than ever before. 

He prayed silently, asking for strength and speed, to soar through the air and reach it in time. His muscles screamed in pain and agony, pleading with him to stop and recover, to stop the madness, and just accept that fate had to play out a certain way. 

"Never!" he screamed out loud through ragged breaths. His head felt light, a mild dizziness setting in, all thanks to the lack of air and the strain he placed upon himself. 

"Just a little more." 

Those faint, whispered words kept him going. The staircase was in sight. The path to the Engine of Creation was visible. It was there, the large machine knelt down in silence, a testimony of its loss against humanity. Cocolia had lost the fight. 

"There she is!" 

He caught sight of her, kneeling on the ground, the powers of the Stellaron going wild within her, the burning image of pure energy, golden, warm, slowly seeking to destroy her. Bronya struggled against Seele's grip, hoping to save her mother from death's door. Serval watched in anguish from the side, both in awe at the sight and stung by guilt and memories of their beautiful past, their friendship. 

Stelle carried the burning lance that she had gotten after nearly dying, using it to hold herself up. The Astral Crew was tired, too tired, the battle taking a lot out of them. Right as Cocolia held on to the clew of energy, listening to its voice to the very end, Mark dashed past Seele, doing the sole thing he could think of. 

Cocolia's trembling eyes caught sight of him, a man she had never met, leaping through the barrier set by the foreign power she tried to wield, grabbing it out of her hands. 

"The price you must pay, that's what your memories of the untold future are. I shall seal them partially, for balance must be kept within the world in order for the Laws of the World to not try and spit you out. Indeed, others of higher power might notice it, but I trust that they won't think much of you until you're capable of standing up against them." 

The voice spoke in the dark once more, this time in its full glory, like the ravaging power of a supernova explosion molded into a voice. A purple cube, small in size, just as big as his heart, slowly came in contact with his chest, seeping into his flesh and bones. 

"This is a Stellaron, not of this world, but of my own making. Within you, take this, for it will be the very thing that grants you power and your soul a glimmer of hope. Thread this path carefully, he who seeks to right what's wrong in the future of old, the one who seeks the ending in its true perfection." 

Those were the words that carved themselves into his mind right before he woke up in the harshness of the Jarilo-VI winter. It was no different in that moment. He saw himself walking along an empty field, stepping on pristine snow that crunched softly beneath his feet. 

"What is this place?" 

He turned left and right, but nothing came into view, yet his ears did pick up more than they'd like. Whispers in all sorts of voices, that of children and elders, men and women of all ages. It was hellish, a cacophony of sounds tormented together. That's what the voice of the Stellaron was. 

"What do you want from me?" asked Mark, gulping dryly at the thought that something like that hadn't happened in the game. He thought it part of his power, the one that had been implanted into him as a Stellaron of foreign origins. 

"How bizzare, human. There's something odd within you, even by my standards. Burning bright, a fire that is your will, just like every human, yet much stronger for some reason. Next is a light that I can't make sense of. Lastly, that THING within you... who are you?" 

The voices kept talking, ringing out from all sides, whispering echoes threatening to drive him mad. They surrounded him, sounding louder and louder, repeating the same last question over and over. If hell had a voice, it would be the one Mark heard. 

"Damn you, I'm just a normal human." 

That's the only thing it needed to hear. Images of his past flashed through his mind—failures upon failures, his very own nightmares that haunted him ever since he came into that world, amplified by the horror of countless voices that whispered around him. Slowly, the open field turned dark, leaving him in the middle of a snowy plain, victim to his own mind. 

................................................................ 

Bronya had finally managed to slip from Seele's grip, reaching down to both Mark and Cocolia, who was staring at him with utter confusion. His body was on the ground, unconscious. 

"Just... what happened?" asked Cocolia, her voice faint, lacking trust in her own mind. The voices had stopped. 

"Mother!" 

Bronya leapt in her arms, hugging her tightly, scared to let go just in case she'd do something like that again. In the end, no matter how many mistakes she had made, Bronya did care about her. 

The battle had ended, but something was amiss. 

"Mark!" 

March walked over by his side, kneeling down to check if he still drew breath. Tired as they all were, Stelle and Dan Heng came there in a flash. He checked for Mark's pulse, ensuring that his vitals were at least showing some form of activity. 

"He has a pulse, and it's slowly growing steady. He must have fainted from overexerting himself." 

They all let out a relieved breath. Serval watched from their side, a small smile on her lips. 

"He sure is something. Promised to save Cocolia, and here he is, knocked out cold after managing to do it against all odds." 

Cocolia watched them, confused. She was finally realizing many things, the lies she had been told, how she had been manipulated, everything fell into place slowly. She knew she owed everyone more than just apologies, especially Serval. 

Her lips parted, but no words came out. Their gazes met briefly, carrying along more words and feelings than an artist could ever hope to convey through their craft. Apologies wouldn't quite cut it, unless they came from the heart. In that moment, Cocolia chose to let go and show her vulnerability, an act she hadn't done in her entire life. Tears began streaming down her face, to everyone's surprise. 

"Mother..." 

Bronya's worried voice soothed her heart, only to nail it in place as she realized the weight of her daughter's love for her against the pain she's put her through. Her sins were heavy on her back. 

"Cocolia... I know we have our past... our history that didn't end well, however... a certain someone..." her eyes fell on Mark, "asked me to try and forgive you... that certain someone did his best to save you, and here you are... so, let's start this from square one. How about it?" 

She gave a soft smile, reaching out to Cocolia, who couldn't believe her senses. It was all like a beautiful dream that she never wished to wake up from. With a shaky hand, she reached out back, gently grabbing her second chance. Bronya helped her to her feet as well, holding back tears of her own. 

Seele watched the scene unfold, her eyes reflecting how much joy she felt for Bronya, yet a pang of something did sting in her chest, but she quietly dismissed it. 

Both March and Stelle held on to Mark, his head cradled in Stelle's arms. Slowly, he began moving, as if waking up from a deep sleep. His eyes opened, only to reveal a pair of glowing blue orbs instead. 

"Ah, what a wonderful vessel." 

His voice rang out, accompanied by the hellish sound of the Stellaron's own voice. Everyone bolted back, creating some distance between him and them. 

"Mark, if this is a prank, it's not funny," said March, chuckling awkwardly at the current predicament. 

"Oh, this vessel surely is doing no such thing. It's mine to use, and what a wonderful thing it is. Unlike that weakling over there who couldn't house my power, he's more than capable of it. The things within him are obscure, but welcome nonetheless." 

He stood up, giving Cocolia a blank look, the pair of blue eyes glowing dimly. Those were not normal eyes. It didn't take an expert to notice such a thing. 

"Prepare for battle," said Dan Heng, his spear ready at his side.