Final Convergence, Part Six.

After Alora's fight with Apollo, he was taken away by someone the Displacement called, 'Brother'. When he awoke, Moloch scanned his surroundings with a turning head.

A gray interior with a rusted garage door in front of him while the ceiling above him was full of holes. In other words--utterly unfamiliar. But the location was the last thing on his mind if it were something this boring.

The Displacement's hazy gaze finished clearing once he locked eyes with the man towering over him. Samael Andras felt his spiky black hair flow from the residual winds slipping through the cracks dented into the walls.

"Hey," Apollo said. "You're Sam's kid. He was my brother, y'know."

Andras felt a vein in his temple pulsating. "What?" The tip of the Agent's sword instantly unsheathed and aimed at the bound Displacement's throat. "Are you talking about my father?"

"Samael Andras II. You only know your mother's grandparents because your father died before you could remember anything. Maybe around four or five. He only had one sibling—a sister: Aella Raven. When the New King of Kismet rose to take the throne, she appeared as his right hand and visited you and your mother. I suppose it brought you two some comfort to know more about the father you likely resented as a deadbeat. News flash: I'm your uncle."

"Now that I think about it though, you didn't know that. So why am I chained up then?" Apollo leaned back in the chair.

"Seriously? 'Why'? You're Apollo Moloch. Don't you know how dangerous of a Displacement you are?" Sam's hand gripping the hilt of his sword imbued the steel with his signature. "That's what I'd say if I were still as prissy as I used to be."

Moloch's eyebrow raised. "What do you mean?"

Stepping back, Samael sheathed his blade and flicked two fingers, dismissing the chains binding his captive. Apollo's apathetic gaze watched as the Fatebreaker binds fell from his arms.

'I forget just reinforcing chains with aura is enough to tie anyone down. Either that or he's just good at enhancing objects…'

"I'm not interested in arresting you. I saw your fight with Alora Illustrious. She's here with Talen Amit and King Uriel, yes? I wish to collaborate with you and slaughter them both."

Apollo grinned. "Are you for real? I killed your dad, y'know. I'm the reason you're the fatherless brat you are now," he said.

"Is that so? Then we'll fight for it."

"Huh? Fight? Is that how you Kismet freaks do it?" The Displacement chuckled. "Alright then. If you're that confident in your technique you're actively challenging me to a duel, who am I to turn you down?"

Samael's brow furrowed. "Then do you accept?"

"Of course I do."

The fighters nodded at each other as a sign of mutual respect. Then, after walking five feet away from each other, they about-faced and dropped to their knees. Apollo remained silent while Samael inexplicably prayed under his breath. Uncaring of whichever Kismet god the Agent was praying to, the Displacement's eyes opened.

'If I remember correctly, Uriel Barron said something about this custom between Syndicate Agents and Enforcers. If two individuals have a disagreement about something and they possess a Predestined Power, they're enabled to fight to settle their argument. They don't fight to the death. Only when one concedes is victory achieved. This custom is called 'Destined Downfall.' A duel between Fate users to determine who's stronger.'

When the duo stood, their auras burst all around them. The silent fluctuation from their souls' inner power resonated through the warehouse and destroyed the remaining ceiling. Luckily, no one was around the area surrounded by a lot in front and fences around it to witness the damage. Apollo only realized this after ten seconds passed following the destruction. The Displacement, still facing the wall opposite Andras, smirked.

'This area is deserted. I feel as though my anxiety is quelled now that I know that. All I have to focus on now is utterly destroying this kid without beating him to death.' Moloch sucked his teeth. 'That's gonna be a pain.'

Apollo and Samael finally turned around, now facing one another. It didn't even take a second for the two of them to raise both hands. But while Moloch went to extend his arm, the Agent interlocked his fingers, gazing through raven-shaded locks with an emotionless stare once his lips parted.

"Area Empowerment."

The spherical barrier ensnared the Displacement in its interior and reshaped instantly. Its new insides resembled that of a casino with a huge slot machine towering over Samael from behind. The only thing missing from the artificial scenery were the people playing at the miniature machines scattered about the gold-tilted floor beside Apollo.

"Skill & Luck."

'So you inherited your father's technique. I didn't get to see him use it in my memories... is it as interesting as Monstrum told me?' Licking his lips, Moloch's grin widened. 'Of course, it is!'

He flew from the ground, gliding across the air before reaching the target, cocking back his fist. As a beam of Fate shot from his knuckles, the Agent jumped through the blast with his sword and landed before Apollo. The swing of his sword was quick, but not quick enough for nick.

Easily sliding under the slash, Moloch materialized behind Samael and sunk his hand into Samael's shoulder. The following impact was devastating enough to shatter the Agent's entire collarbone, leaving him to throw a wimpy cleave at the Displacement behind him. By the time Andras finished swiping his sword, Apollo already finished reappearing in front of him.

"Does your technique have a point?"

The slot machines popped up all the cherries. Samael smirked, feeling the blood drip down his cracked bottom lip. Slicking back the spikes in his hair, the Agent leaned back, letting his fanged grin shine at Apollo.

"Boost!" He tore the sleeves from his shirt. "Maximum Aura Output."

A single sweat drop started falling down Apollo's face. 'Shit. I remember Monstrum mentioning something about there being an automatic sure-hit that comes by default with the technique's conditions being etched into the domain. I always have a defensive technique active unless I manually switch to Eternal Constellations. If I'd had the necessary information as Monstrum did, I would've known... that this technique and domain are rigged!'

"That's right." Angling the enhanced sword's edge over his eyes, Andras smiled. "Skill & Luck is a conjuration-probability type that guarantees victory to the user whenever a target is ensnared by the accompanying Area. Depending on who initiates the first hit, the slots roll and arrive at a logical conclusion. The options are Bonus, Ailment, and Stalemate. The more one attacks, the more the slots roll in their favor."

Moloch snickered. "You heard what I was thinking?" Refining the weakened aura around his eyes revealed the invisible tendrils of Fate extending from Samael's build. "Tch. Cheap trick."

"I thought you'd know how to refine the aura around your eyes to observe the invisible. But you rely more on your specialized technique that resembles the Unconquerable and Blessed Freedom's unique properties. Then again, you don't have a base technique you use more than any other at all, do you?" Lowering the sword, Sam examined his reflection.

"You rely on others' stolen abilities to achieve victory. Not only that of my fellow deceased Agents and Enforcers, but the very Displacements you called your brethren. It's utterly despicable."

Samael vanished. Appearing over Apollo, he slashed where the Displacement formerly stood once Moloch rolled away. Ducking under another slash imbued with Samael's maximum signature, he uppercut the Agent into the air and warped above him. After throwing him at the main slot machine towering over everything, Sam fell and started tumbling across the ground while repeatedly smashing his face against the flat floor.

Snatching his nephew by the ankle, Apollo launched the man from his hold and watched him fly from both inside the barrier and the warehouse containing it. The Displacement's curly hair swayed with the wind as he stepped from the withered stronghold, piercing Samael's heart with the simple sight of his emerald eyes. Apollo's head lowered and his lips upturned into a menacing smirk.

"If that's all you have, I feel sorry for my brother. You're making an utter mockery of his technique."

The undeniable tranquility accompanying the fall of the curtain of night had been all but extinguished. For the first time in his life, an unusual sensation surged through his being. One he couldn't immediately identify with a single word—not because it was some rare emotion, but because he'd never experienced it before. The moment Apollo's white fist pierced the air above his nephew's floored and bloody build, Andras found it within himself; the name of this feeling.

Complete and utter inferiority when faced with a fighter far beyond his capacity.

Sam didn't even have the time to register everything that happened before the Displacement's knuckles fell into his pupil. Then, he stopped. Affixing his posture, Apollo stepped back, dispelling his aura and the technique imbued in it.

"I win," he said, smiling.

Sam hitched his breath. The sight of Apollo's extending hand effectively puzzled him to a halt. Nevertheless, despite the confusion, Sam took his hand and pulled it, rising to his feet. Sneering, Apollo stepped past the man, moving to walk through the front gate bordering the fence surrounding them.

"You–" Samael spun around. "You're letting me live? W-why? What the hell is—"

Stopping in his tracks, Apollo stood outside the fence, hands hidden in the depths of his pockets. "Did you want me to kill you?" Peeking over his shoulder, he glared at the Barronian. "I still can."

The Displacement smirked. "Do you want to die that much?"

"N-no, it's just–" Sam sighed. "I don't understand! Aren't you Apollo Moloch? You're supposed to kill me!"

"I'm not 'supposed' to do anything. I simply don't see the point in killing you. But it's not specifically you. For some reason, I feel an odd neutrality toward everything. I didn't kill those Zols outside the forest, nor did I win in that fight against Illustrious. It's so weird."

Facing the sky, the fall's chilly wind slid through his hair. Nothing but the moonlight illuminated his skin from beyond the clouds above. More often than not, he found himself entranced by these sceneries. But why? For as long as he could remember, all that mattered was destruction. Whether it be other people, or inanimate objects—everything carved from man's hands needed to be destroyed with the palm of his hand. Yet now, he was sparing people. Why?

Perhaps he was contemplating that; idle under the moon, the wind rocking his strands. Surprisingly enough, Sam didn't back away from his uncle. Instead, he took but one step forward, now standing beside his green-eyed Displacement uncle. Apollo looked at him and curved his lips into a smile.

"If you're standing beside me even after I defeated you, that must mean you understand how I feel. At least to some extent," he said.

Sam's head shook. "Not really. I've never been as bad a person as you. Then again, I can't say everyone I've killed was a bad person, so maybe I am. Without even knowing it."

"No. You're not." The usual glimmer specific to Apollo's emerald irises had all but dimmed. "You're nothing but a good person. You can't deny that fact. Because although you've killed people… you didn't enjoy it. You lamented having to take a life at all, didn't you?"

Samael nodded.

"Then it's undeniable. I'm a bad person. I always have been… ever since I was born." Apollo chuckled. "And at the realization of that fact, I can't help but feel a hole in my chest. Wherever my heart was supposed to be was replaced by an urge to destroy after becoming a Displacement. Then when I regained my humanity with the memories of the past, my numbness faded. I was nothing more than a puppet dancing along to the Puppetmaster's strings. To want only for the destruction of others—" A tear fell from the corner of Apollo's eye. "---is that the life my siblings would've wanted for me?"

Taken aback by Moloch's display of emotion, Sam found himself motionless. He'd come to the mainland for a chance at assassinating the Unconquerable and yet, he felt compelled to stay by his murderous uncle's side.

Samael's hand raised and slid across Apollo's build, patting the Displacement's shoulder. "Don't cry, old man. I'll feel bad…"

The Displacement's curious gaze followed him. "Heh," he chuckled. "For a murderer?"

"A murderer?" Sam repeated. "True, yes, you are a murderer. But you don't want to be. Not anymore, right?"

Looking down, Apollo nodded. "Right. Not anymore."

"Well then, if you're not striving for Talen, Uriel, and Alora's deaths, what will you move forward to now? What does your future hold… Apollo?"

Wiping the tears from his eyes, Apollo sniffled and raised his head. "Why?" He asked. "Why do you wish to stay beside a murderer?"

"Because…" Sam grinned. "...I'm a good person."

"Good enough to forgive someone who's taken so many lives?"

"Forgive? Well, that's easy. Of course not. I don't forgive you. Not yet anyway. But… I can try."

"Why?" Apollo asked. "I don't understand!"

"You spared me. Honestly, I still don't know why, because this whole conversation feels like a fever dream. But it inspired me. I think my fellow Agents and Enforcers would've done the same to their target despite being asked to kill them. They were good people. They wouldn't kill anyone without questioning it like me. So think of it as kindness. A final one in the name of the fallen. If you want me to forgive you for killing such good individuals, you'll have to prove yourself. Prove to me you have a worthwhile goal."

It was at that moment everything blackened. Engulfed by nothing but a nigh-infinite void, Apollo's bright green eyes bore extra tears from the corners as the powerless Displacement fell to his knees. The long-forgotten memories of the past rushed through Moloch's head as he searched for an answer. Then, he stopped.

The one person in the world who might be able to spare him a glimmer of hope was none other than the pink-haired right hand of the Supreme King himself: Aella Raven. For his sister, the center of Apollo's soul longed for one thing.

'I want… to see you again.'

To Be Cont.