Not Done Yet

Blood swoons from my neck, falling in audible clumps as Alexos and I pause for a moment of reprieve. I test the weight of the slashed heel as he rips the nail out of his eye with no reluctance, stringy flesh following his movements. His remaining eye stares at me with untold concentration as I retrieve the figment that created the nail, the object fading into obscurity from Alexos' hand.

No words are said as we prepare for another round. We spoke once. That was enough.

Bolstering my mind with Daydream as much as possible to protect against any illusions that may come until I can take another gasp of Ether, the current one burning in my lungs, I bolt toward Alexos, using the non-injured foot to lead. But with my wounds, even with all the Ether enhancing me, I am slowed, and Alexos was already faster before I was slashed.

He sidesteps from my charge, and I can see him aim his Colt, preparing to pull the trigger as the Ether in the air starts to move once more. So, I delve into Madness once more, demanding imagination from the Bloody Palm.

The bricks of a house tumbling downward onto a disfigured child looms rearward over my eyelids as a brick from the walls appears in my hand, Ether siphoning to create a figment much more considerable than what they used to be limited to. I suppose that's what the advance did, that or the enhancement to my mind did. Not quite sure.

But I don't hang on to the details as I hastily raise the brick toward my head, stopping any bullet that might end me instantly, for my heart is within Death's Lantern.

Alexos fires his Colt, one bullet slamming into the brick as it explodes, the force far too much for my fragile imagination. But in the wake of the figment's destruction, the Ether that created it swirls in the air, distorting the weave Alexos is making to affect my senses. A low curse comes from my opponent as I thank the Bloody Palm internally for the help.

I still don't know how he does it, but his skills are beyond anything I've ever seen. So much so that the only way to contain it is to put a full stop to the flow of Ether. At this point, defense is impossible; only preventing him from doing it at all works. Even Kai Vinson's Ether was not as complex and incomprehensible. The Rougarou Hunter's was powerful and complicated, but not so much so that I have no idea how it works. Alexos' Ether is a work of art, one incomprehensible to all but the artist.

Alexos once more reverses up as he fires his Colt, but I raise my arm after the figment's breakage and sprint for him with my hobbled foot. Pain spikes as bullets enter the flesh of my arm, the man shooting for my head to end me swiftly. But thankfully, the bolstering of my bones with Strugglers Gasp keeps the bullets from going through my arm and instead has them lodging inside the limb. Meanwhile, the Bloody Palm defends its land, regenerating the flesh of my forearm. As I move, I count the bullets, edging toward the sixth.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

My legs push me forward with every bullet that tries to send me back. Yet he is now out of ammo! All six rounds are gone from the Colt. So even as feebleness spreads through my limbs, a possible poisonous Colt or something, I move faster, boldened by the moment of opportunity. My arm lowers to reach for him, Leash coming into the fold, but the second I thrust my arm forward where I can see Alexos, the man flings the Colt to the ground and pulls two daggers from his belt.

Frantically, I swing the Ether in Leash, and I manage to catch onto his right arm with a dagger, the construct of Ether wrapping securely around his forearm. Still, his second arm throws the objects, the blade barreling for my eyes, even as I pull him toward me.

With sweating dripping from my eyebrows, I twist my whole body, pulling Alexos with me as the blade carves a gouge along my cheek before slamming into the tree behind me.

My head swims from Ether use and blood loss as I see the blade go entirely into the tree, the force of the throw enough to put the dagger straight through my skull and into my brain. Fuck. How is he so good? I've neutralized his primary skill, the illusions, and still, he's so strong!

Things rapidly get worse as the Ether in the air swells again, Alexos attempting to remake his illusions. Cursing inwardly, I grasp toward the Bloody Palm again with Madness, hoping to get another object.

This time the image in my mind is odd, a wilting tree ripped out of the earth, and the figment is just as bizarre. I get a small sapling, dried, withered, and dead. Just a piece of wood. I can see Alexos' face curl at the sight as he reaches for more daggers, his mind touching the Ether in the air. And as he does so, he lifts a strip of paper along with his daggers, the paper screaming into my mind of danger, far more than either of the weapons he pulls with them. The note. The one with Ether inside it. It's just like that. I need to break whatever he's trying to do.

It probably holds some kind of instant illusion, one he's been saving for right now.

And so, despite how much I want to do it right now, I wait to break the delicate figment of Madness. A strained second passes as the air warps and the paper is ripped, a half-dozen Alexoses appearing around me. Of course, that's his getaway, ace in his sleeve. He likely wants to use it as a distraction to get his illusion going all the way or to finish me off. And as if in sync, they all strike at me, many blending into shape with the main one. Yet, I wait a bit longer. I ignore them even as they strike at me, and I feel pain in my side. I wait until they are all close enough to be hit by the disturbance at once. I don't think I'll manage another one, after all.

But once they do, I tighten my grip, crushing the fragile sapling as it explodes into a swirl of Ether, minorly disrupting his weave of Ether as it shimmers into the air. The illusory clones also fade, revealing Alexos as he readies his daggers to end me, one about to be let loose from his fingers. The only reason I'm even able to distort his main illusion at all is that it's already been stopped and is still starting up for his main thing, meanwhile, the duplicates are some unstable illusion created by an object. His Ether is nigh-impossible to affect once the illusions are active, but once they are down, they seem just as challenging to restart.

And as he throws the dagger toward me again, I yank his one arm with Leash as I dive for the ground, the second dagger going over my head. Then, I push with my arm and legs from the ground as I bolt toward him. Pressure is building in my lungs, Strugglers Gasp nearing its limit, but I still have some time. The skill keeps my body moving despite the very lethal wound to my neck, and I must look like an undying revenant to Alexos. But if that's what I have to be, that's what I'll become.

Staggering steps bring me to Alexos as he tries to twist himself out of Leash, but the Ether is just as resilient as I am. And so, it doesn't budge, allowing me to pull him toward me before I swing toward him, Explosion on the edge of my knuckles.

He stumbles forward from my pull as my fist nears his face, threatening to rip his head off with one strike, but the moment before impact, Alexos leans in toward the stumble. Then, like the most remarkable acrobat in the world, he wraps his arms around mine and swings his lower body up and his upper body down, bringing his knee to my face.

My vision goes black, and my ears ring as my fist hits the tree that was just behind the man, my Explosion leaving my hand from my lapse of control. A moment later, I shake my head, everything swimming with black dots as I try to get up again. But as I do, I notice that the oak tree that was behind Alexos before the strike is ruined; the massive trunk lurched and crashed into the ground a few feet from me. The aftereffect from that knee to my face prevented me from even hearing the tree's fall.

And bleeding profusely from his right side, the arm that I got with the Leash hanging limply, Alexos stands atop the fallen trunk. Ether is once more swirling in the air, sunlight flickering, sounds rattling, and the man's outline fading into a silhouette. He bought himself enough time. Dammit.

I try to stand, but blood is all that comes, the liquid seeping from my neck, chest, and foot.

Alexos steps down from the log, the illusions finally settling in as everything goes dark, the reaper of death reappearing. It strides toward me purposefully, the cloak billowing with false winds, and I push my body upward until I sit on my knees. Then, with flickering eyesight, dots of blood loss tainting my vision, I dye my hand with Ether, pushing as much as possible for the coming attack from in front. A strike for a last-ditch effort.

But as I do, I realize something.

I never used that other skill. The new one. How dumb am I? Alexos simply riles me up too much. I need to take my time to think. Hesitation is a killer, but so is arrogance.

Ether swirls in my mind as I follow the instinctual guide of my Sigil. And in a fraction of a second, before the Death even takes another step, I can sense the chains on my mind fade entirely.

And when they do, time stops. Or it seems to. The Death, illusioned by Alexos, stops moving. Sounds cease from entering my ears, and the pain of the world pauses. I try to move in this pause, hoping that my skill extends that far, but alas, it does not. My body refuses to move even an inch, just as my pupils are, too, disallowed movement. What I see now is all that I can see.

It seems I am frozen while my mind is Released from its chains, able to think in relative peace. So, taking a metaphorical breath of air, I pause, taking in the sight of this Death. I also instantly come to the conclusion that Alexos will not attack me from in front.

He did it before, and so he will not do it again. The man never follows patterns. Instead, he splits them into a million pieces. But again, that could be a mind game. He must expect me to have a few more tricks, as he's always oddly had the most confidence in my power among all those I've met. Though, I suppose it isn't that odd. He was after my father for a while, and I'm sure he learned a lesson or two about my family. Why else would he come so prepared and spend so long creating skills to specifically counter me?

That confidence must come from him meeting my father before. Those who have all encountered him in one way or another see me differently, not as a young man but as a monster unfolding into this world. Edmund had it, though he was kind about it. Alexos had it before. Iva had it, though it was about my grandmother and not my father. Aniwye also had it, her reverence for the man overflowing into me.

So, how is Alexos going to attack me? Will it be from behind? No. That's predictable. We've fought enough that I know his tricks, and he knows I know his tricks. So where? Above? Maybe... Below? He would if he could, the direction is undefendable, but I don't think he can.

From within? Yes. That must be it. He's going to attack my mind, hoping to cease whatever last-ditch move I make.

But what do I do to defend against that? Daydream and Ironheart will doubtfully be enough. They do little against his illusions now that he's made them specifically for me, and he likely did the same for whatever is about to come, so what remains? My body is nearing the edge of Ether saturation, even with my bolstered resources, but he should be similar. All those weaves of Ether in the air must be costly, even if they impart disastrous strengths.

Maybe... Insight could work? It might help me defend against whatever attack he is about to do, and I should also be able to see what he's doing from that! I should have thought of it earlier! Though, in my defense, the battle was quite a bit hectic for the skill. It's only when I slow down that Insight blooms.

As my thoughts continue to fly, almost infinitely fast relative to the speed of reality, the illusion of Death has only taken a tenth of a step toward me. Though I can feel a burning sensation building in my head, the release of the chains likely damaging my brain. A little bit won't hurt, but I reckon any more will.

I try to push Ether toward Insight's destination in my pupils, but the substance responds as oppositely to the speed of the world as the Death moves. It seems my use of skills is not hindered. Odd. Yet, as I grasp for Alexos, I feel a spike of pain in my mind, my new Liberation, warning me of overuse. And so, I release it as I touch upon Alexos' mind.

While entering Alexos mind, the world restarts, and pain returns. The Death takes another step, getting within five feet of me, when I latch onto a mind with Insight and don't let go. Instantly, another perspective flowers, one of similar pain, but instead of physical, most is mental.

Alexos stares at my kneeling form from atop the trunk of wood, several feet away from the illusion, his mind weaving the web of Ether made only for me. From his eyes, the world looks normal. The sunlight falls onto my bleeding body from the sky, contrasting the darkness from my eyes and the grievous Death staring into my eyes.

The man steps down, walking diagonally from me, and I'm careful not to meet his eyes to give anything away. His gait is slurred and limped, but his gaze never leaves my body. I continue to try and stand to not reveal myself, but I don't have to try very hard to fail at it. My limbs are weak, and it's only been a half-minute at most since we started fighting. But that wound he left in my neck has been damaging, leaking my lifeblood out of me rapidly, not to mention the blades in my lungs.

And yet, giving up has never been something I can do. Maybe it's in my blood, maybe it's just who am I, or perhaps it's even something to do with my Tomb, but I don't give up.

As I see him reach into his pocket from his eyes, the illusion of Death advancing a gaunt and spindly arm with hanging sleeves for me, I prepare my mind, settling myself into a state ready for his strike. I have a suspicion that it will come the second the illusion touches me.

And that suspicion comes true as Alexos' gaze tightens, his fist clenches, and his toes curl, Ether roaring within his eyes, and pressure, unlike any other, bears down onto me. For a moment, everything goes white, both his sight and mind, as I try to reel myself back in. It feels like someone grabbing my brain through my skull and crushing it with a vice. But I refuse to yield and fakely swipe my arm before me, falling with the feint as I don't put any true force into it. Meanwhile, I grit my teeth and hold on from the strike.

The world shakes, each second passing as a man mentally rips apart my mind, every shake of reality resounding within my brain. Blood streams down my eyes, nose, and ears, the blood vessels popping from the strain. My hand strains, blood popping from the veins as my whole body locks up, paralysis arriving from the mental attack. Scraps of time escape from me, shadows move without me noticing, and the grass almost teleports in its waving movement as future seconds replace current ones.

Yet, I hold. A tooth breaks as I try to keep myself together, the strike overthrowing Ironheart, Daydream, and my mind. JI reach for Liberation, but my Ether is broken apart by the pain halfway through. Yet as everything crumbles and my vision starts to lose color, I force Ether into my mind, Bolstering the already-present flow of Daydream even further as I do everything I can to survive and not become a mindless husk.

The world calms for a second, then I vaguely sense Alexos tightening his grip around a vial of something, his focus tightening even further. And once he does, the pain in my mind spikes before abruptly disappearing. Once he finishes, the man's hand relaxes as he moves it to grab another dagger nestled in his coat. Then, he strides toward me, slowly and with short steps, as I lay motionless.

Blood seeps from my wounds and my mind reels with agony and trembling damage as I sit still. I fight against the urge to move as he moves closer. The man wants to finish me off himself, the mental strike not being enough, for even if he killed me with it, he wants to make sure I'm dead. At least he's professional about it. Every other time we've met, he's been quipping non-stop. I guess I finally was worth enough of a challenge that he paused in his antics. That or I made him angry enough to cease them.

His feet get closer, his non-wounded arm absently moving the dagger as if to test it against the air in preparation for my flesh. My eyes are closed, yet I can still see through his, and as the man gets within five feet, I make my move, the distance perfect for a surprise attack. Any closer, and he'd expect it. Any further, and I'd be too slow, even with Adumbral.

And so, Ether shrieks within my flesh, heading straight for Adumbral as my form becomes Shadowed, and I burst forward straight for Alexos. A deep breath fills my lungs again, the illusion breaking and my eyes opening as I immediately push that Ether toward my wounded hand, the Bloody Palm silent at the action. I'd already be over the edge without Dominus' 'gift'.

Strugglers Gasp turns into an Explosion as I near Alexos, my fist moving with lethal force right for his chest. At this point, I've learned not to go for the head. He's far too agile to get hit in that way. But at least with this, I'll graze him, and that's all I need.

Adumbral's skill has me move with alacrity unfit for my injured body as I unshadow right in front of Alexos, my fist just an inch from his ribs.

But again, for all that I've talked shit about the man, he is good at what he does. Very good. Surviving in the wilds against demons, Outlaws, and other races, is a feat on its own. To do so alone? It is different altogether.

The man twists, bones breaking from his abrupt movement as his head wrests toward my hand, an unknown force pushing me to the side as he tries to dodge by pivoting around and angling his injured side toward me. But he's not fast enough, even with the bizarre flick of his mind; my knuckles land upon the side of his torso as he wrenches himself out of the way with such speed I'm unsure if I'll do more damage to him than he did to himself.

And so, another detonation occurs. But I forcibly hold myself back, Blast coming instead of Explosion as it was a glancing blow. A deafening bang pushes us away from each other as Alexos reels backward, a dining plate-sized portion of his torso missing, and his entire right arm is gone. The limb is a dozen feet away, separated from his elbow as he touches the lethal wound with his left hand, pulling back as blood cascades down. He stands still for a moment as I wobble and try to right myself.

The man falls first, ending on a knee, heaving as he investigates his condition. His body is not as resilient as mine, and yet, I, too, stumble, the injuries catching up.

We look at each other, and I see the blaze in his eye, his face finally pausing in its non-stop shifting to break on a final face. It's the same average and boring face from that time in Bonedunes. But as I realize it really is his true face, that dull face smiles, blood dripping from his teeth as he forces himself into a stand, his legs blundering all the while. Alexos takes almost five full seconds simply to reach his feet, his back arched and bent as crimson falls from him onto the lively grass.

I echo him, my lungs preaching for air while I refuse to budge. We're not done yet.

I haven't even put a bullet in him yet.

I simply have to get the Lily. Then, everything will be over. I'll be healed, and he'll be dead.