Rematch

The Games We Play

Rematch

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I tackled him out of the desolate patch that had once been a house, throwing us both back into the flattened battlefield. We hit the dirt hard enough to gouge a ten meter trench even as Conquest shouted words we left far behind. My ethereal claws left deep scratch marks in his armor as I raked at him, seeking hold even as he slammed his fists into the dirt hard enough to shatter the area around us. A shockwave hit me but I withstood it and kept hold, bracing myself momentarily even as the same Aura that composed my body began to sink into his flesh once more. I guided it through his veins towards his heart and brain and continued my search, still feeling my father's emotions against my mind, his soul again mine. I knew he was there, could feel it in the surprise and relief that I was still fighting, but I couldn't get a hold. Where was he?

Conquest may have screamed again or even swore at me, but before I could hear it he snaked an arm back to grab me wholly by the face and, despite the awkward position and horrible leverage, managed to haul me up and over to slam me hard into the ground, shattering everything that still stood in several dozen meters. I felt my form warp, shifting under the strength of the blow, perhaps even tearing apart—but I didn't see the damage. Even while I was like this, the Gamer's Body still worked.

Which, I supposed, was only natural. My Semblance came from my Aura, after all, and now I was nothing but Aura; why would I lose it?

As such, I barely paused as the earth around me was torn apart, claws reaching up even as my arm extending, seizing my father's body by its head and doing what Conquest had just done to me. I pulled him over and smashed him into the broken earth, rolling over to follow. I didn't bother Roaring, knowing I would only outrun the sound, but less than a second after he came down I hauled him back up and left him suspended in the air—for a moment, at least.

Then my fist connected and I carved another trench with his body.

Stone crumbled beneath his fingers as he bounced back up, his gaze focused on me with intensity enough to burn even as more and more of his mask was torn away. Something I briefly thought was smoke rose from his arms and shoulders, but I zeroed in on it with my Clairvoyance to see the Grimm cells rising in the air, curled protectively around…Dust?

It took barely an instant to realize what that mean and by then plasma was already gathering in my fingers. A fractions of a second later, I was tossing it hard towards the smoke, but he still beat me to triggering it, since his own Aura was what gave it motion. I lifted my arms to shield against the blast, but whatever mixture he'd used produced something far beyond the sum of its parts and I was blown away and thrown high into the air. I caught myself, landing upside-down upon another platform and then lunging back to Earth, eyes scanning the battlefield for a flickering moment before focusing on my mother.

I felt a moment of relief as I confirmed that she was out of the blast's range, but it vanished in a moment. As I'd feared, Levant and my Heat Elemental were gone, dismissed by what had been done to my body—and if that had happened her, it must have happened elsewhere, as well. I felt Levant forming in the air around me, body splitting again and again. Most of them flew away the moment their bodies formed, moving quickly to return to their stations, but the largest mass remained with me as I altered my fall and then Lunged to my mother's side, Accelerating for a moment as I went.

An invisible, shielding wall of air formed around us as I landed and scanned the immediate area, cautious and worried—but the disease hadn't had time to spread into the area I'd left undefended in the moments I'd been out of commission, thankfully. I could only hope the same held true elsewhere. Although…

I glanced at Levant who tilted her head before nodding. I didn't say a word, but then, I didn't need to.

"Onyx," She said in my voice, words passing from copy to copy through their mental network. "I'm currently combating my father. My control was disrupted momentarily by something he did but I am restoring it as we speak. Still, be on your guard just in case; I'll keep you notified of anything that happens."

"Damn, is that what's going on?" Onyx muttered back. "I thought it felt like bombs were going off. Be careful, kid; your dad—"

"I know," I replied. "My mother and I are handling it. Just keep those people safe."

That done, I glanced down at my mother even as my father rose from the dirt, looking very much worse for wear. I let fire and lightning expand from my spectral hands and form new bodies for their respective elementals before merging into Heat once more, but only then met her gaze.

My mother's eyes were wide as she looked up at me. She'd seen the Tiger often enough to recognize it, but I wasn't sure how much of what happened she'd been able to see or what had prompted that expression. Regardless of the reason, when I held out my hand to her, she took it and let my lift her to her feet.

"Are you okay?" Levant formed the words out of thin air, neither I nor the Elemental's mouths moving.

My mother lifted a hand to where she'd been struck by lightning mere seconds ago, wincing at the touch as if expecting pain, but then nodded.

"Peachy," She said at last, exhaling as she followed my gaze to my father. "Thanks for the saves."

I inclined my head slightly and allowed a moment to pass in silence. Conquest was shaking off the dirt and moving slowly, perhaps allowing himself a chance to heal and plan, but I benefitted as much from the pause as he did, if not more so—especially while I was getting used to the new body. As I drew out another set of Dust crystals to devour, I felt…it was hard to describe. There wasn't the weight to it that there had been with my human form and it was like a million things I'd gotten so used to I didn't even notice were now gone. It was strange.

So was the world around me. My Clairvoyance let me ignore most of it, see the way I had when I was human, but beneath it all I could glimpse shades of a world I barely recognized, with patterns of light and energy overlaid in a way that seemed at once familiar and foreign. The world I knew was still there, but…under it, I suppose. I could see my mother, for instance, though her figure was fogged and partially obscured by…by my mother, I suppose. It looked like her, if perhaps a bit younger and wearing armor I wasn't familiar with, something almost like a stain glass painting rising around her. Was this her Aura? Her soul?

It was something I'd need to research when I got the chance, but it was almost distracting right now. Stuff like that was everywhere, the markings of life and loss as every bit as evident as the markings I saw in ultraviolet or the heat in infrared, but I didn't know what it meant or how to use it. It was just another thing I didn't have experience with yet, like everything else about this body. I wasn't sure how my skills would work with this form or even if they would work, to say nothing of what I might be capable of. It was…

It was something I needed to address, right now.

One by one, I began to reactivate the skills that being turned into a Pandora Shell had deactivated—which seemed to be pretty much all of them. Maybe it was like going to sleep? I wasn't sure. Nonetheless, I took advantage of the moments I had to turn them back on, feeling them alter my spiritual body in strange ways. How things like turning my skin to Adamant worked in this case, I had no idea, but I felt strong. Strong enough that I'd still been able to throw Conquest around even without my various buffs; I assumed that something besides the strength of my body determined the strength of my spirit. Intelligence? Wisdom? Those seemed like the most logical choices for such a thing and in either case, I felt powerful.

"Jaune," My mother asked quietly after a moment and I shielded the sounds with Levant to keep Conquest from hearing. "Are you…okay? Where is your body?"

"Conquest turned it into a Pandora Shell," I said, glancing at her again as I wondered if she'd be able to hear me—and if so, how? I didn't have lungs or a voice box, as far as I could tell, nor was I breathing. After a moment without reaction, I repeated the words through Levant, who turned slightly to speak to my mother. She didn't need to do that, but it seemed like the type of thing that might make her a little more comfortable.

"Turned into a Pandora Shell," She repeated, paling slightly. "Then—"

I shrugged slightly.

"I'll sleep it off when this is over," I answered calmly. "I was going to need to do that, anyway, what with the Grimm thing."

Saying the words aloud made me wonder if my title had changed or if the White Rider had deactivated. I'd left my body behind, but then, it wasn't solely a physical disease. I drew Crocea Mors from my Inventory to look at my reflection in the blade—and above the face of a spectral beast were the title of the Gamer and the White Rider. It seemed that, at least, had remained, though what it meant for me…I wasn't sure. I wouldn't have tested this in combat if I'd had the choice, but, well, I hadn't. Lowered my sword and summoned Crocea Mors back into it, readying myself as Conquest turned towards us.

"It'll be okay without you?" She asked, still sounding worried. "Your body?"

"Yes," I answered simply. I could still feel my own body, a connection back to the source as my spirit wandered away from home. Even so, I knew that it was what was holding me here, binding me to this world. If that connection was cut…but Conquest wouldn't. I could be sure of that, at least. "I'll return to it after I save dad and make sure you're all okay."

Mom looked away, expression pained.

"Jaune…" She said. "I…I know. I understand completely. But you should have—"

"He's still in there, Mom," I answered calmly, knowing what she was about to say. "I can feel it. Literally feel it—I can do that now. Conquest has him bound up inside and is making him watch, but he's still in there and I can…I have to believe I can save him."

She swallowed, closing her eyes for a moment, but didn't answer back. I wasn't sure if she was imagining what that must be like or if she couldn't agree. I'd had chances to kill him, I knew that, but…I couldn't. Not until I did everything I could to save him. Maybe that was horrible of me, putting this much effort into rescuing my own father when I'd slain the others with merciless practicality, but…he was my dad.

"The Dust that Dad always carried around," I said anyway. "Conquest keeps it inside his body now, defended by his cells, armor, and Aura—maybe even something else, to keep it from exploding if he doesn't want to. Even when I forced my Aura into his body while looking for dad, the Dust didn't react, but I wouldn't put it past him to have set up a kill switch, just to screw me over. If it looks like I've beaten him, he'll probably trigger the Dust inside of him and blow himself up, just to spite me. I have to disable it somehow and then…and then I might be able to stop Conquest from doing anything else while I save dad. He has a lot of tricks up his sleeves, but he has to run out eventually."

"Do you really think we can?" Mom asked, eyes on my father's form. I didn't miss the phrasing of her words. "Save him, I mean?"

"I don't think it's impossible," I answered. "For me, that's enough. He won't kill me and I'm willing to keep fighting until I die, so I'd say the odds are in my favor. But mom…he's actively trying to kill you and I'm not going to risk your life for this; Dad wouldn't want that. And I…I can handle it from here. Maybe you should—"

"I can deal with the Dust," She interrupt, looking down at her hands. "If I can touch it…"

"Touching it means touching Conquest," I answered. "It means risking infection."

"Not a concern," She shook her head. "If I have to, I can just tear off the arm that gets infected. You can fix that later, right?"

It took me a moment to work out how to make a rumble of displeasure with Levant. I had a lot of experience with the whole second hand talking thing, but it was awkward having to literally form every sound.

"Too risky," I stated.

"You're not the only one who's willing to fight to the death for this," She answered, sounding like the words would have been heated if she'd been less tired. "If he'd really in there, I won't leave him. I surprisingly can't say we've been through worse than this, but it's still not enough to make me leave him behind."

I made a grunt and was about to reply when a thunderous clap interrupted.

"Well," Conquest declared with what was probably false cheer. "Thank you for reminding why killing children is a lot more fun than talking to them, Jaune—because you are an enormous pain in my ass."

"Thanks," I answered.

"But really, killing you, though tempting, is off the table," He said, twirling his hammer. "And short of that, nothing else seems like it's gonna keep you down. I mean, hell, I got rid of your arms, your legs, your fucking body, and you're still fighting?"

"I guess you must have missed it when you were going through my dad's memories," I replied. "But the Arc family's not very good at giving up."

I felt a flash of pride from him—from my father—and had to wonder if Conquest felt it, too, because his still visible lips twisted for a moment before he smiled again.

"I'd be really impressed if it were less fucking annoying," He said, lifting a hand. "Still, guess there's no helping it, eh? I was hoping for a bit more, but I guess this is good enough for a day's work, eh? I guess I got what I wanted, so…later, losers."

He raised two fingers in a salute, gave me the finger with his other hand, and smiled—and I knew exactly what he was about to do. My eyes met my mother's for a moment and there was no time to argue.

I took her hand and moved.

There'd been no time to prepare for this, so I'd had no real way of knowing whether or not my Acceleration would work on another person. Even beyond that, there hadn't even been a chance to discuss things or plan for this, either; if Mom and I hadn't been on the exact same page, if we hadn't literally been discussing this exact thing, if hesitation or confusion had slowed either of us down for even a moment, we probably would have failed before we even began.

All the same, I couldn't say running towards a bomb that was about to go off was my best plan ever, though there was a certain method to the madness—I guess. After all, while Conquest knew a lot, I'd proven him wrong time and time again, pulling out tricks even my father had had no knowledge of, because I'd pretty much developed them on the spot. I hadn't always reacted as he'd suspected, hadn't done what he'd planned, and really, the fact that I'd shed my body and was standing here now must have thrown him for a loop in its own right. I was pretty sure I'd pushed him hard enough that he wasn't certain of anything where I was concerned.

How then, could he be sure that I'd survive the explosion? He couldn't be—after all, even I didn't know that. Hell, given how I was burning resources just to push myself this fast, I'd probably put the odds against me; in those first moments, I devoured another dozen Dust crystals and still dumped most of my MP into Acceleration just trying to fuel the skill for two people. Given that I was spending the same thing my body was currently composed of, I had no way of knowing what would happen if a bomb went off in my face. I also didn't know what having my spiritual body destroyed while venturing away from home would do to me, though I imagined it wouldn't be anything good.

And since I didn't know, how could he? He may have had a lot of experience, might have even encountered purely spiritual opponents before, but could he be sure? Sure enough to risk my life and whatever plan he had going?

Too be honest...I had no idea. Still, in the split second I had to crunch the numbers, I figured my odds of saving my father with this plan were infinitely better than my odds of saving him if I did nothing. So…I charged full speed right at him, holding back nothing—not to turn away or draw back or defend. It had to be that way, because I had to be absolutely certain he knew I wasn't going to stop before he was, even if that meant playing chicken with my life.

And as I drew closer, covering a great distance in the moment I had left…he was the one who hesitated. Maybe just for an instant, to give himself a moment to consider and react. I wouldn't put it past him to have a backup plan, even for something like this.

But a moment of hesitation can become a great deal larger when you're playing with time. In that flash of indecision, I closed the distance, fire blooming in the air around me—and around my mother, who I'd pulled into my arms. I hadn't had a chance to warn her about that part, but somehow I figured she'd known. She'd closed her eyes, lifted an arm to shield them, and grit her teeth even as she began to burn, but otherwise didn't react, not giving so much as a growl of discomfort. I had a moment to heal her slightly, hopefully keeping her above the red—but then there was no time for anything but action.

I hit my father with everything I had, outstretched claws raking deeply at the most fragile section of his worn and broken armor, sheering through it and the flesh beneath. I left a wide, bleeding wound over my father's stomach and pushed my mother towards it with the arm I'd used to cradle her. She was already reaching out with the hand that wasn't being used to cover her eyes, so it was as simple as shoving it deep into the wound.

The muscles in her arm twitched, making Conquest stiffen. A moment later, I was forced to allow time to return to its normal pace, unable to sustain the drastic alterations any longer—and I hear an explosion.

For a second, I'd thought I'd failed, that it hadn't been enough, but then I saw the source. The sound had come from Conquest, yes, but he hadn't exploded—at least, not fully. His left arm had burst in several places, tearing off completely at the shoulder, and several other smaller pops had occurred over his chest, back, and legs, but he was alive and mostly whole; my mother had protected the important areas, at least.

I saw something like colored steam pour forth from the broken sections of his armor and recognized it as Dust again—but not powdered Dust. Mom must have converted it to a gas inside him and somehow torn it from his control, but how—

Not now, I reminded myself, focusing on the important issue. I saw Grimm cells mixed in with the rising stream and it was expanding quickly from my father's wounds—which was bad, considering that Mom was right next to him. I called out to Levant, commanding her to gather it all into a sphere and defend it, at least for the moment. Then I turned to my mother, reaching out to pull her back—

Conquest's remaining arm snapped at my face. I managed to roll with the blow at the last second, but even taking a fraction of the force laid me out in a trench of my own and then snapped me high into the air. In the moment it took me to recover and create a platform beneath my feet, Conquest snatched my mother up by her left leg and lifted her high into the air, rage in his eyes. I had a moment to snake both hands and my tail into my Inventory, devourer another boost, and then Accelerate again, closing the distance I'd been tossed in a fraction of the time.

Even so, as I drew near, I knew I would break Conquest's inhuman hold on her—mainly because it had deformed her leg so badly I could see where it had pulverized bone. Worse yet, small spots of infection had already appeared, miniscule but obvious to my Clairvoyance. So instead of confronting Conquest's durability, I took the safer way out.

I drew Crocea Mors, activated the Burning Blade, and cut her leg off just below the hip. In the following moment, as surprise shone brightly in Conquest's eyes, I returned the blade to its resting place, jumped high to scoop my mother up safely in my arms, and then planted my foot on Conquest face with all the force I could muster. The same steps that had shattered the ground they'd tread upon crushed what was left of his mask, breaking my father's nose along with it and tossing him to the ground as I flipped back and landed in a crouch.

Time returned to normal again and I saw my mother grimace sharply, biting down a hiss of discomfort before meeting my eyes.

"My arm, too," She said, holding the infected limb away from her body and gritting her teeth as I tore it off with the White Tiger's Jaws and tossed it away. With it gone, I put a hand on her head and drew once more from my dwindling supply of Dust crystals, settling a Regeneration over her with a blue one. I heard her take a shuddering breath and then speak again. "Go."

I set her down as gently as I could and rose, flexing my claws, focusing on Conquest as he stumbled to his feet.

"Son of a fucking bitch," He snarled, a hand on his face—and I closed the distance in the blink of an eye, laying a hand over his to lift him high and slam his face up to his cheek bones into the dirt.

"That's my momma you're talking about," I said calmly, claws sinking into his skin. He screamed as I pushed my Aura against his and tried to force it down, power flowing in more easily now as I searched. It was an odd sensation, almost as if I were pushing against a door and feeling it shake, and it encouraged me, made me push harder. "Now let's try this again!"

Whatever I felt, he must have felt too, because he froze for just an instant and stared wide at me before setting his features into something bitter, spiteful.

"Let's," He spat and then began to convulse. I saw the Grimm cells turn on his body, attacking their own host with merciless swiftness. I sank my fingers deeper and healed him, repairing the damage at the cost of empowering the the disease, but then he just began to fit, kicking and screaming as what remained of his white armor began to bubble. Was he trying to kill himself or turn into a Pandora Shell? Looking at him, I wasn't sure—probably both. Trying to stall the former would encourage the latter, and then—

"Jaune!" I heard my mother cry as I held onto my father, gritting my teeth and trying to fight even though it seemed hopeless. At her words, though, I felt something that was hard to describe.

It took me a moment to realize that it was hope. Her hope in my thoughts.

That more than anything was that made me look. Somehow, with one arm and a leg, she'd rolled herself over and pitched into the air, remaining hand reaching for the sphere of gathered Dust I'd had Levant gathered. When her fingers touched it, I allowed them to pass through, trusting her—and in that moment, gas turned to liquid. The contents of the bubble turned to a swirling mass of mixing, melting color and it must have been hot as hell because my mom screamed as it formed around her hand.

But she didn't stop and as she began to fall, liquid turned at last into crystal. I saw her catch herself on what looked like a crystal gauntlet and her knee before looking down at her arm. In a scarce few places, the Grimm cells that had survived the procedure tried to take hold, but she merely closed her eyes for a moment.

The next, her arm fell away, plasma phasing through it just below her shoulder. At the same time, she began to follow it down, unable to support herself on only a leg—but her eyes blinked open and met mine. I saw her lips twitch, moving to form words, but we were moving far too fast to rely on sound, now.

Even so, I understood and the ground broke beneath my feet as I released Conquest and closed the distance, stepping right past her falling body to snatch her arm out of the air. It was barely recognizable as human flesh above the elbow, colored oddly where liquid Dust had melted into her flesh even as he power crystalized it once more. But even with all that, I could see the rough shape of her fist, decorated in rising spikes of Dust but still clearly clenched tightly around something. I broke off her mostly melted fingers one by one to get to the prize inside.

Growing from the palm of her hand was a white Dust crystal. It was tiny, almost delicate looking, but for a moment I could only stare at it in awe.

I'd never seen one, except in pictures, because it was the rarest of the crystals—the result of combining all the colors at full intensity. I had a brief moment to wonder what she wanted me to do, to consider my options—but then I decided and shoved the crystal, hand and all, towards my nonexistent heart.

And then I became light.

I'd never experienced this change from this perspective before—as the Aura instead of the body. But there was no other way to describe it; it didn't hurt, as it had my physical form, but simply happened. Everything I was, my very soul given form, became light and expanded, growing in a way that was beyond the dimensions of my spectral body, beyond words I could use to describe it, beyond my ability to understand even as it happened. There was something immense there, something just beyond my reach, but…first things first.

Turning around, I faced the frozen world. My mother, Conquest, everything—it had all stopped, or might as well have, considering. I flowed through the halted air as light and returned to my father's side, looking down at the statue he'd become, and laying a hand on his head once more.

"I understand," I said, except I didn't so much as move. Even so, I did understand something, looking down at him. I'd heard the phrase a thousand times, but never truly thought it mattered until now.

The eyes are the windows to the soul. That's why a number of Semblances affected their user's eye color—it was just a way of expressing what lay within.

And the eyes of the Grimm were nothing but pits of pure red. And my father's eyes, in Conquest's hold, were as red as any other monster's.

But there's more to a house than the windows or what color they were. You can't always judge a book by its cover. Sometimes you have to take a look inside.

I looked into my father's eyes and felt that resistance again, that doorway trying to keep me out. But I'd cast aside my body for this and this light I'd made of soul…if it existed for any reason, then it must be for this.

I felt Conquest try to keep me out, but he was as helpless to stop me now as he was to keep the sun from rising.

"You and me, Conquest," I said, though I knew he couldn't hear. "One more round."

I began to fall forward, as if a pit had opened up beneath me, hungry to draw me in. But I wasn't afraid, even as my body began to fade. In fact, I was smiling.

I'm coming dad.

A skill has been created through a special action! By combining the skill of Projection with the power of the White Rider, the skill 'Usurpation' has been created.

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