[Long chapter -- I'd set aside about 40 minutes.]
In middle of December and night, they met with their FBI handler again and were given Salvatore's preferred restaurant; another Little Alfredo's about 30 miles from Urasaria. They drove Iris's truck there and parked it a few miles away, then walked without their badges to the restaurant. It was a small place with a glass storefront, and tables & booths arranged in 3 columns.
They were seated at a booth near the center, with a chest-high barrier at their immediate left and one some feet to their right. There were no menu items without carbs, and it was unusual for Iris to see Natasha eat this slowly. Usually whenever Natasha cooked, Iris had to serve herself first or her mentor would go through it all herself.
Natasha glanced back to the frontdoors. Salvatore still was not here. "God, first he's involved in killing hundreds of innocent people and selling drugs to children, and now he forces me to break my diet." As she had a few times, she was wearing a tanktop and shorts. She stuck her hand in her pocket and absentmindedly twirled Meteorology's wind to up her appetite.
"The food's nice."
"For you. It's going to take me a month to get back into ketosis."
A black car parked across the road, and two men stepped out. It was Salvatore and his entourage: a bodyguard the size of three men, who wore sunglasses and a rather loose suit.
"Salvatore." said Iris.
"I'm not turning around."
Iris watched as Salvatore went up to the hostess (not that kind) and had a brief conversation with her. She was telling him something he seemed concerned with, then hugged her, pat her on the cheek and told her something that made her laugh. The restaurant was nearly full sans for a table at the corner of the diner; this was where Salvatore and his entourage were seated. Their waitress came by and asked if they were finished, to which Natasha ordered dessert.
Iris saw Salvatore stand up and turn to walk towards them. As he walked near their table, he slowed, and eyed Iris as she eyed him. No one was near him; she could now attack. But she did not, as he walked by them and she watched Natasha's expression to see if she should react.
A minute passed, and Natasha was bemused. "He's going another way."
"What?"
"He went into the bathroom, and now he's walking back another way."
In a slice of her peripheral vision, Iris saw Salvatore take a long way around back to his table. Again he eyed her, but seemed to laugh to himself and ignore her as he sat down in the opposite corner. This irked her, even moreso when ten minutes later he finished his meal, stood up and began to leave.
"He's leaving."
"Can you blow up his car?"
"Too far." Phantom peered into eternity. "He's about to walk past someone else's car -- I don't see anyone inside, but it's a few feet outside of my range."
"Move closer, I've got you."
Iris stood up and in the next instant -
- a geyser of red flame swept over her head as she ducked; her Desert Eagle repaired into her hand as she hit the ground and a swarm of gunfire came out overhead, and with one acceleration of the lights she plunged the diner into darkness; a bolt of green lightning shot out from their table and the next thing Iris heard was something like a body exploding.
Still crouched but crawling forward, blood dropped onto Phantom's spider in thick rivulets. Her Revenant supplied her the enjoyment of violence as she lurched forward and aimed her magnum; she dumped a shot into Salvatore's gas tank and the resulting cloud of flame claimed his body & left his hair singed.
Phantom reloaded her deagle. She glanced up and saw Natasha's outline at the other end of the aisle, more gunfire swarming overhead as she kept the barriers repaired. A set of icicles formed on the roof and she rolled out of their way, blindly groping in the dark until she came up against someone huddled under another table: a young woman.
"P-Please k-kill them."
"I usually do."
Iris rolled back and another set of icicles dropped out of the ceiling; a superheated blast hit it and melted them completely as a green flash of light came out the opposite end of the aisle. Natasha coughed. More gunfire sailed over their heads with a deafening, constant shockwave. Whether from civilian or host mafia she could not know and preferred not to check.
Phantom felt all of the gun magazines in the area; its strand hit their release buttons and flicked on their safety, pausing the bullets as Iris popped out and the lights flickered on; she dumped 3 hyper-accelerated shots into one of the mooks and he hit the floor with a scream of agony. This time she aimed for his skull and blasted it against the wall in a puff of pink mist, ducking back down.
2, 3 seconds passed as they reloaded. A guillotine pendulum swung past her and her back squeezed against the barrier: "Natasha! Sleight-of-Hand!" The gunfire returned overhead, but Phantom's legs weaved and returned all of their bullets into their barrels -
- and several shouts of pain erupted as the guns misfired in their hands and pendulums continued swaying closer to Iris. On the other end, Natasha hit it with a jet of snow that swallowed it and slowed it down, but a swift hand of cards went dashing through the snow; another pendulum appeared-
"-fuck." muttered Iris, sweeping up and over her barrier to the other side; she squeezed her magnum's trigger three times and three civilian mafia hit the ground; a fourth tried to raise his shattered gun to her, but a bolt of green lightning blasted his hands off and the stumps frayed apart like a set of bloody cables.
The lights flicked on as Iris glanced over to Natasha, who had made the same move to this eastern side of the room. Her back was to the bathroom and its door shot open - then immediately slammed back on whoever had opened it. Iris tried to peek her head up, but a set of cards went over her head and she thought better of it.
"Iris! Water!"
All the water evaporated in the area. Barely audible was a car starting up outside; time accelerated and its rubber rotted away and left only screeching metal, followed by the sound of doors opening and Salvatore laughing.
The bathroom door opened and a man came out with a frozen arm; he tried to grab Natasha but Natasha's muscular hand went around his neck, smashed his head into the barrier and threw him across the room with such force he went spinning through the tables; Iris heard someone else stagger down and flicked the lights on as she peeked; he had landed on another man, presumably Sleight-of-Hand's host, and was still struggling.
A hook of wind pulled him up and back to Natasha, whose outstretched fist speared through his chest & went out the other end; she dropped it before their reclaiming hands spewed out. Iris saw her opportunity; she rushed forward, her head ducked as she went through the rotting barricade, hitting the last host with a running tackle that slammed him against the wall and blood shot from his mouth -
- that a hyper-arid gust evaporated before he could escape through it; a card formed in his hand and he tried to slice Iris's skull -
-but a Phantom strand returned the card to the ether as an uppercut slammed the bottom of his jaw; two strands shot into his ears and hyper-aridified the air around his skull, and Iris's next punch reduced it to powder leaking out of his dead ears.
She breathed.
"Still good?" shouted Natasha.
Iris turned, her cardio having improved over the last months. "Not too winded."
They rushed outside and turned their eyes right; a pickup truck was peeling out to the avenue ahead, obviously stolen judging by its speed. A wind pulled Natasha & Iris up to the roof of the diner and up they rushed, running over the roofs of buildings with a slide or slope of clouds, the car 100ft away and still out of Phantom's range. Barely in the back window, they saw it was driven by Salvatore's entourage.
"Surprised that thing doesn't tip over on one side." muttered Natasha as they kept their run going over the line of buildings. A forced right-turn was up ahead, and another bridge of clouds brought them to cut the truck off ahead; they leaped down and onto the sidewalk, turning to see it enter their sight ahead and no choice but to drive their direction.
90ft separated them, and once 60ft did -
" - Phantom!" shouted Iris and swept to the side -
- the truck's engine exploded in a shower of sparks; the wheels rotted away and Phantom took the wheel, jerking it left hard; it did a full roll and toppled over completely, scraping & screaming & crumbling up the street and past the two women, rolling and taking some streetlamps with it as Natasha & Iris turned to face it 50ft away.
Salvatore crawled out with no wounds. The entourage rolled out with a heavy groan, his body leaking blood and a rib poking out. Salvatore looked at it, shouted at him, then smacked it back in. The entourage screamed in pain.
Natasha glanced over the entourage. His wounds likely would have killed any other host by now: yet they were closing. Beside, Iris was microscopically inching herself forward, subtle erosions of the road that would pull the wrecked car & herself closer.
Salvatore looked to Iris and Natasha. "You dykes even know who I am, eh? Planning on heading back to Urasaria after, where they'll give you a medal for killing somebody as violently as possible?" He laughed.
"I know exactly who you are, Salvatore Tranghese." said Iris. "You killed your illegitimate son and his mother."
Salvatore stopped laughing.
"You don't remember? You only did it 127 days ago. You brought them to one of your restaurants for a chat and a dinner: maybe you were planning on telling him who his father really was, but you needed his mother there to make him agree to meet you. What young man wouldn't be nervous if the Underboss of the Marrivelli Family suddenly wanted to meet with him? But that put him at ease, enough to have drinks with you even as you knew that six hours later him and his mother both would be dead.
You couldn't kill them there. That would be too obvious. You told him that afterwards he was to meet with two of your men for his next assignment, but you're meticulous; you had the poison as insurance for if he hadn't shown up into what an obvious and devious trap it was. You wouldn't risk doing so yourself. So you had someone else poison all three drinks at your table, and I doubt he gave you more than a cursory dosage; he already knew only one person at that table would be susceptible to it.
But he had some left over, and you hadn't considered that he might've enjoyed the chance to kill someone else without having to use his Revenant, did you? Maybe it was for her money, for lust or for his own pleasure; maybe he was a serial killer who heard religious voices that told him what to do. The fact is that he brought a young woman to his apartment, and after he raped her, he murdered her and stuffed her body into the freezer.
But he still hadn't rid himself of that bottle of poison. He certainly remembered it when we attacked him; oh, his memory became very authentic then. He thought that if he didn't destroy it then we might've been able to trace it back to you. He nearly succeeded. It might've been gone permanently if I were any other student.
Of course, you couldn't know. We killed him and I was able to still keep the poison he had. Even if you knew, you had your associate there to stall us up at Little Alfredo's. He called someone higher-up that afternoon and said that two students had tried to question him, and that they better be dealt with; but he had told them that he did not know anything, because in all likelihood he didn't. Not one goon spoke to us; they would rather die than... well, except one, only because he despised you enough that he hoped we would succeed in murdering both of you. But what does the futility of interrogation matter, when because of me you cannot push permanently into their graves what haunts you?
After your son was poisoned, you let him and his friend meet up with two other goons who would chop him up and dispose of his body in a river that would haul him down to a place no one cared for. All that required was someone to kill his friend and he was helpless against one host, let alone three including you. But the woman, she was trickier. Yes, I saw her again just yesterday. She certainly looked young: for a host. You couldn't risk her using her Revenant. You had someone ambush her, chop half of her head off before she could fight back, and you almost fooled me when you had her drowned and froth rolled down her cheeks.
I reached back into time and I tugged away at her ribs, and when I had parted them there was no heart there. That wasn't right. But I realized why. You wouldn't even put her Revenant to waste with a burial. Right now, her bacteria is still laying in another one of your goons: maybe eventually I'll kill them too.
The only thing I haven't figured out yet is why you did it. You treated him as he was your own for months and you suddenly discarded him like refuse; you slathered special treatment upon him and weeks later you killed him yourself. Why? But it doesn't matter. Your picture has already been entered in to Urasaria's system. Even if we don't kill you, another student will. They'll mention your name with a dirty sneer and like a pathetic memory. And if I'm the one to do it, I'll burn you until there isn't a thing left to identify you."
By Salvatore's disturbed reaction, Iris knew that she was accurate. She smirked. Yet calm soon seeped into him again.
"Hahahaha. Well, you've got it all figured out. I'm thinking you must got a million eyes in that Revenant of your's. How's about I teach you a little thing about nature before we get to this, eh?
I don't get to fightin' much lately. I remember when I did, I was working down by the docks. I was always goin' down to the beach and seeing these hermit crabs. They take over the shells of other things and make it their own. But they're constantly growin', see, and so if they grow too big they gotta find a bigger shell. Else they start hurtin' and they get too exposed to the gulls. But a hermit crab ain't too picky about cannibalism, so I used to see six of these little fucks lined up with each other, each waitin' to kill the next bigger one so that they could move in to a new shell. A life like that makes paranoia a boon.
And I ain't just talking about hermit crabs, see?
Now, I loved that kid's mother. We met in '97. I always kept her on the side, but I put her up somewhere nice, and as you call it, my 'illegitimate' boy was born a few years later. I wouldn't let my last name get attached to any of it, but that was the arrangement, see? I even let her get with some Irish bastard to help raise the kid and pretend he was the father.
Boy, he was a drunken loser... He couldn't beat her on account's of her being a host, but he sure took it out on that little runt. Men, we got a lotta ego wrapped up in our virility, so whenever he looked at that kid and knew it was someone else's son, shit -- he musta felt like a little prick with a little dick that couldn't cum. I woulda had him killed if she let me, but she never liked violence. Some rogue host broads is like that, they never went into violence, unlike you.
To me, the most important shit is fucking back anyone who fucks you, ten times harder, but hey, one man's opinion. I'd rather offer back a fist than a cheek.
Now the kid's growing up. He's developing all these behavioral problems... biochemical-type shit. I felt an obligation to him, so I got him an in to the Family when he was 17. He'd get brought up on charges and I'd call the judge to get the shit dropped. He don't know, though, and he starts thinking he got this supernatural luck: that he's in control. Now the fuck is bragging everywhere about it; he's got the balls of a host but the body of a civilian. Him and his friend both...
I grew to hate that little shit. My son had nothing in him of what I loved in his mother, but two decades in, I'd start to forgot what had made me love that broad to begin with. All I saw in him was that ugly monkey who treated the boy's mama like shit and always came home drunk. A man's got an obligation to his children, but some men, well -- you can't learn family, see?
Hell, I'd used her selfishly too, though: for sex, for lust, for some superficial payoff and the supposition of a moment's pleasure. I instigated it and I prolonged it... Now he's makin' trouble for our associates and I'm havin' to throw a few boys of mine under to cover his ass. Murders some people he shouldn't've... I'm starting to think someone higher-up'll tell me I better kill the fuck.
No one did, however. It was his mother that came to me and told me that now he was looking for a Revenant to host. He was a carrier, and if he waited a few months maybe he woulda got one, no? But he's got pebbles for brains and boulders for balls. He's ashamed of not being born a host and he loathes himself for it. Now I hear that he ain't planning on scorching the shit if he gets one, either. That's a major no-no in the Family, dykes. It's a student without registration, see? What's he plannin' on doing with it? Killing me so he can run the Family? Ha! Who fuckin' knows, but he's a dumb ape with a dream seven feet wide and two inches deep.
His mother thinks I should come clean with the little shit. I agree. I tell her that I would need to get rid of his old bastard first. She agreed. Twenty years with the prick and she sells him off for her own wants. You know that old question about the trolley, where it's goin' towards five people but if you pull the lever it'll only kill one of 'em? Most people say they'd pull the lever, but that's bullshit. They wouldn't pull the lever 'cuz then they'd have to get up off their fat ass for it. Most people's just as selfish as me, maybe not intentionally, but result's results. What difference is murder through apathy and murder through intention?
I start vetting the kid. I get him put onto the more important shit without him catching wise. I even sent his mom flowers for the funeral. See, I'm feeding her all that bullshit about family and that maybe she can be Mrs. Salvatore soon. I let her know that I've been putting the kid in close with me, lettin' him pretend he's got a Revenant and that if he does good I'll let him pick out a good one. I tell her that you can't learn family... and see, she was just as taken in by that sentimental bullshit as he was when I told him I was his daddy."
He laughed.
"So, I ain't just talking about hermit crabs. It's nature, students, it's-"
- the pickup truck lurched back and retraced its flight path; Salvatore swept out of the way as it hit the back of his entourage -
- who went rolling with it; the truck rolled & rolled & rolled back up the way it came with its fat cargo plastered on its hood; once the truck was close, he fell off and went scraping & rolling past Natasha, and a thick black goo shot out from his right hand -
" - Meteorology!"
- but Meteorology's wind failed to divert it, and the goo choked & grabbed at her neck, wringing & gripping her down; he lurched up behind them and tackled Natasha to the ground, his hardened blackfist pummelling at her cheek -
- but Iris knew she had allowed the truck to cover him in gasoline, and Phantom's strand turned the air fiery & lit the fuse; into flames he burst and shuddered, yet he was barely staggered, still atop Natasha and punching her; Iris threw a superheated blast at his blazing back to a similar response.
50ft away, she saw Salvatore laughing at them. Her mentor's fists were moving now and a lava-coated right arm blocked the entourage's blow, her left fist slamming into his face as his skin hardened black in response to trauma, no damage done yet. In a whirlwind of blows they thrashed up the road, revolving so swiftly that Iris dared not throw another attack into that hellish melee.
The black goo tightened around her mentor's neck, but it could not empty her lungs; heavy grunts of exertion passed her as she craned back his falling fists with one hand, the veins pulsing like a lesbian's dream on her muscular arms. He could not break through her guard with arms alone, and still atop her, his knee raised to kick her -
- but Natasha slid barely to the side and the impact of his knee left a crater in the road; Phantom reverted it to tar and he was glued stuck there; the next fist went slamming into the road beside Natasha and Phantom repeated the tar, his right leg & fist now adhered to the road.
A wave of wind lifted him only a foot and Natasha squeezed herself out from under him, standing soon again; she punched the back of his skull and as a geyser of lava consumed it -
- Phantom hardened it into igneous rock -
- his other leg tried to sweep Natasha -
- but a swift wind swept her up & over his trapped gargantuan frame; another wind popped her back over to Iris as the two glanced back to Salvatore, still waiting 60ft away, one for trapped ahead and one foe not moving behind.
"F-Fuck's he doing?" muttered Natasha. Burn marks were on her throat from where the black goo had grabbed her earlier. Ahead, the entourage's frame thrashed in his various prisons, raging, his free arm & leg leveraging against the road for one mighty pull -
- that smashed through the hardened asphalt around his knee & first; he punched his rocky helmet and it dissipated into powder, no damage seemingly done, his sunglasses & his hat still perfectly astride his muscular habit. A grunt of exertion left him as he slammed his two fists into the road, peeling, pulling at the holes in the road; Natasha & Iris backed away, readying their winds for what was to come -
- and he tore out an enormous slab of the road with his hands, slamming it down upon their heads -
- but a curtain of wind blocked it and kept them safe, holding, craning back the enormous slab; Iris tried to rot it away, but " - host aura in the -- fuck -" - she glanced back and saw it would be several feet to escape the weapon's overhang, a glut of pressure added to keep the blunt instrument from slamming upon them.
His ground was strong, and streams of black goo dropped out of the slab, threatening to drop on their heads if given another few feet. Inch by inch, the pressure forced Iris & Natasha back, daring not make too quick a move, but in the next instant -
- a street-pole slammed into Natasha's right torso and the crack made Iris wince; the curtain of wind quavered -
- but another wind pulled them back & out of the way as the asphalt slab slammed down upon the road & sent asphalt spewing in its impact, two and the one with 30ft separating them now.
Ahead, Iris saw a stream of goo retreating back into their foe's right legs; he had grabbed the streetlamp with it and kicked it over to Natasha, who wiped some blood off from her chest and spoke rapidly: "Need to e-enhance our normal attacks."
Iris nodded and the entourage's skin hardening seemed to reply, and in the next instant -
- another wind blasted them to the sidewalk as a black hook shot past them, ripping up a section of asphalt like a ball & chain and flailing it towards the two -
- but the next scene was instant. Phantom's strand grabbed every car Iris saw and sifted through their life's histories, then slammed them hyper-accelerated into the flail as an accelerated wind aided them -
- blunting the foul slab & ruining several hundred-thousands of dollars, and as they dodged underneath the next hook -
- it entered into the apartment complex behind, tearing the entire facade off the building and toppling it towards them -
" - Meteorology!" shouted Natasha; a cocoon of snow formed over them, a casing of obsidian following -
- and both winced as they heard the wall collapse around them & smash into pieces, rubble raining as Phantom accelerated its collapse & tumble. They knew they could stay only for a moment. Dual cocoons lowering, they saw in the rubble ahead his gargantuan frame lumbering to them; Iris nodded to Natasha, and the cars reverted to their rightful positions by the sidewalks once more -
- one wind slammed a car through him; he barely staggered and it crumpled behind him. Two, three, then a fourth car flew into him, yet his fists pummelled and sent each off to the side, a massive hard & black blade splitting through the fifth car -
- but the projectiles were never Natasha's intentions. He stood in the midst of this steel carpet as he felt gallons of gasoline reform upon him -
"ELECTRIC TORNADO!"
Natasha's palms swept forward, as did Iris's as a 10ft tornado of electricity shot out towards their foe, consuming him whole and green lightning erupting at random intervals; within the winds he was a flurry of motion, attempting to block lightning from one angle yet forced to allow another bolt to spike into his back. No blood nor damage appeared to be done yet, but their counter was not finished; a raincloud formed and flooded hail upon him, and Phantom accelerated it into a rain of sharpening ice, each melted piece adding more voltage into the electric barrage... this constant flurry could not stay for long.
After ten seconds, Natasha pat Iris's back and both paused to catch their breaths; the raincloud petered out and the tornado lowered ahead to allow sight of their foe ahead.
His sunglasses had flown off; his hat was tilted, his skin hardened. He adjusted his hat carefully as he picked up his sunglasses, and they saw he has 3 pupils.
"Fuck." muttered Natasha. "Up."
Iris nodded.
A wind pulled them up to the roof of the half-standing building; so far only the wall facing the street had fallen. Glancing down for a few seconds, they stood there for a moment and still saw Salvatore waiting off to the side.
Natasha sighed, blood running down her face in rivulets. "He's not running because it's not just his entourage, it's his bodyguard. Get it?"
"He's protected the same way." muttered Iris.
"Just need to hope we have the original host right."
Ahead & from below, two heavy hooks shot into the building's roof and they staggered for a moment; they saw the entourage below with two heavy chains, pulling, tugging like a Herculean labor; the screams of civilians grew below as he threatened to collapse the entire building, and as another shudder staggered their footing -
- Natasha launched herself ahead & down with a jet of wind; Iris didn't understand why until she saw her shooting down at him, her lava-coated arm raised as his grip loosened around the chains -
- but he couldn't block her superheated clothesline in time and it sent him bumping back some; another wind stole his breath and set him gasping & stumbling.
Quickly, Iris repaired the building and made her way down to her mentor, rotting handholds that she kicked her way down, to at last land feetfirst in the street below, as another punch from Natasha sent him off into the middle of the road, and as his head raised again -
- the next scene was instant. Shouting for Phantom, Iris focused on the car debris from earlier, returning them along their former path and repairing one to a full car around him, enormous plates of metal slamming into position -
- but into his outstretched hands & arms; with tremendous force he held at bay his own entombment, straining, his arms quavering yet not buckling as Iris tried again to force the reformed car around him. Shards of metal dug deeply into his legs; grinning rubber jaws gaped for his legs and green lightning filled his prison.
Inch by inch, Natasha moved forward as he strained & grunted. Quadrillions of volts stabbed through his body, his skin hardening yet bruising, no opening yet made as his fingers twitched in their electrocution. Sandstorm tornados consumed his body and Iris's own countercurrents created friction that threatened to rip the flesh off from him, yet could not even peel his skin; his arms continued to crane back the thousand of pounds of pressure against him, until her mental strength quivered and she was forced to retreat her chronoshift, Natasha staggering beside.
She was much too close now and a weak hook of wind pulled herself behind him, but he turned and with a mighty lurch speared Natasha against the building wall ahead, slamming into her left arm with such force that every bone in her left hand shattered. An agonized scream passed her and his fist slammed into her skull, but her broken left hand raised and smashed with such force into his neck that it sent him into the wall at her right; she took her opportunity quickly. Another blow to his stomach shoved all the air out from his lungs, Meteorology's wind stealing what was left away as he grunted, swept her shattered left hand as her bloodied face spoke: "W-Was worried I'd break my h-hand if I hit you too hard before, b-but now I've got no reason not to."
Another blow to his stomach folded him; tremendous pain crossed Natasha's face with every left-handed blow she gave him, yet she was inexorably prevailing; his hands limped and he could no longer breathe. Her working right hand grabbed his neck and scraped him against the wall, her left hand pummeling his hardening skin & now buckling it with every blow.
His head was lolling, but soon he would recover; Phantom reverted a hole in the concrete behind him into its paste and Natasha dunked his head into it, his limbs flailing, kicking at her legs; yet her stability was strong and she could not be staggered. A constant swirl Phantom twisted in the wet concrete, feeling the liquid enter his nostrils and mouth, his breath blinking -
"I-Ir- MOAT!"
A line rotted in the wall above Natasha, and a waterfall of molten lava & concrete fell upon her as Iris got out of the way. Yet even this seemed to do little damage; his skin refused to part for a wound, until Iris shouted: "Natasha! Catch!"
- and Natasha caught an obsidian blade Iris had made from the lava, then drove it into his chest hard -
- his skin hardened and the blade shattered in her hand, slicing her grip slightly. In that moment his right fist caught her on the injured side of her torso and she stumbled back, then was forced to sweep back as he came bursting out of the wall. Molten concrete drained down his body yet with no open wounds, a constant wave of hardening & black skin overlaying his own; it was this fortress they wished to penetrate.
"…n-nice knife." his layered voice coughed, and in the next instant -
- streams of black goo shot onto Natasha's left hand and corroded her fingers away; instantly she cauterized her new stump. That was no obstacle; she still had the other, as she rushed at him -
- but one chop to her chest slammed her back-first into the ground, forcing her to roll on her stomach to avoid the next blade -
- yet his right hand grabbed her head and slammed her into the pavement; a pained gasp left her as he glanced to Iris, then slammed her head again & again & again into the asphalt, until -
- Phantom tried to rot the road away to aid Natasha, but Iris realized it had not been damaged, and she soon understood why. A heavy cushion of air kept Natasha's head from the pavement, yet it was thinning with every pound he crushed into her.
Iris had no other idea what to do but rush at him, jump onto his back and squeeze her arms around his neck, biting, pulling at his hair as she slammed her fist into his face. His skin hardened in response to trauma, but he slowed, until with one tremendous motion he bucked her off and she went flying into the wall behind, concrete catching her and slicing her back as she landed.
He tried to stand, shakily to his feet; his legs were having trouble moving and Iris saw why; blackened rock encased his legs and Natasha popped up with a stinger to his jaw that sent him staggering back. Iris got out of the way as Natasha charged him into the wall, her fist & arm a flurry of motion as she pounded into his chest. Still he appeared unfazed but for a loll of his head, his legs beginning to shudder as Meteorology's wind stole his breath and aided Natasha's barraging fists.
Another wind slammed Natasha's fist into his jaw and his hat flew off his head. He was beginning to recover as Natasha slammed her fist & arm into his gut again, her arms beginning to crack as she tried again: "-this fucking g- IRIS! Anything sharper than obsidian?!"
"I- fuck, keep him busy!" Iris shouted and ran away.
She still heard them fighting behind as she passed by more cars, fervently searching them to find one electric. Finally she did. She unlocked the hood and popped it open, reaching her hands in and pulling the still-attached battery out, tugging away at it like a meth addict does copper, then ripping it out completely.
She crouched down and Phantom's strand moved within microseconds. "Graphite, graphite is in these, where..." All but what she needed rotted and she was left with a dozen pounds of gray powder in her hands; she rose its temperature & pressurized it back to a solid blade, then sped it through a million years of pressure -
- until it turned to diamond with a nanometer edge. No time to waste, she rushed back to Natasha, who was on the defensive again, standing a few feet away as he rose out from the rubble of a concrete wall, and as he rushed towards Natasha -
- Iris shouted for her and threw the diamond blade her way; Natasha caught it and whirled her arm with wind, driving the blade straight up between his lips and into his skull -
- and they knew the ensuing gush of blood was all that she needed. Grunting with heavy exertion, she gripped the blade tighter and slashed it all around his mouth, a foul gurgle coming from him as he tried to slam her off, until another stab shot it through his cheek and out the other end. Natasha ripped the blade out and kept it in an igneous sheath; her fingers shot to where the wound was opened and burrowed, peeling, pulling, ripping at his hardening skin yet finding no resistance within his flesh -
- until with one pained motion, she ripped his entire face off from his bones. His skull fell, and his skin fell like a crumpled ragdoll; she was heavily exerted, as was Iris as she glanced her way.
Yet out of the corpse burst three blood-soaked men; a geyser of lava consumed one alive and a swift wind deposited Natasha back to Iris before they could counter, the other two staggering and rushing back to Salvatore.
Iris raised her gun and a lava-coated & hyper-accelerated bullet shot through one of their legs and blasted it clear off; before he hit the ground another claimed his skull, leaving only one left beside Salvatore on the street corner 50ft ahead.
"E-Entourage. Damnit." Natasha facepalmed. "'Entourage'. That g-guy said 'entourage'. Entourage is plural. G-God damnit, this m-matryoshka motherfucker better not split again." (Also known as Russian nesting dolls, readers.)
"Wonder how that works down below." muttered Iris and Natasha snickered, infusing herself with pure oxygen but still heavily bleeding.
"Hey, stay f-focused… they pro-probably all take turns sharing it." She shouted to Salvatore and his one man left. "Still invincible, bitch?"
By the look on their faces, this had never occured before. Salvatore shouted something to the goon and smacked him hard on the back, and thick streams of goo shot towards Iris & Natasha -
- but a swift wind pulled the two across the road and to the other sidewalk a constant wind allowing them to dodge the next dozen barrages around the intersection; they saw Salvatore fleeing and pulling the goon by his neck with him, but knew that they could not let either leave.
Natasha's wind deposited her & Iris on the street corner where the two mafioso had just been, seeing them running up the sidewalk ahead, buildings & cars at their eternal positions. They were rushing past another tall building on their right. More streams of black goo flew towards them, sizzling in corrosion -
- but a swift wind pulled them up one floor of the building - and another, and another, and another until they hit the roof; they peered down and saw Salvatore & the goon crossing the corner, still standing ahead one facade of the building -
- and the next scene was instant. Phantom rotted away what load-bearing points Iris sensed in the facade, and the entire five floors of wall collapsed towards the goon & underboss -
- but a swift & wild spray of black goo corroded away the walls, and let the rest fall uselessly around goon & underboss, the goon backing away before Salvatore yanked him back in: "I-I don't see where -"
- Salvatore sensed a lightning bolt sprouting into existence from 30ft behind and turned, shoving his underling into the blast -
- and the goon's body exploded into a hundred pieces of gore; he was still living for a moment when Salvatore berated the impudent fuck for not being willing to sacrifice himself, cursing as he staggered back & saw Natasha & Iris standing there.
Natasha was quick again. She threw her hand out and a green lightning bolt shot toward Salvatore; a monstrous blue hand shot up from below and went to grab Natasha's wrist, but Iris shoved it and instead it grabbed her wrist, burning, scorching into her flesh before suddenly retreating as the green bolt hit Salvatore in the chest -
- a red lightning bolt blasted clear through Natasha's chest and spewed out several pieces of her ribs; her legs folded and Iris caught her before she hit the ground, a horrific cough gushing blood from her gaping wound -
- Iris's left wrist shattered and she nearly dropped Natasha; something whizzed by her leg and she grabbed Natasha with her right hand, held her right as she ran away with her, muttering to her: "God damnit, even without Entourage, it's still-"
- a slab of the road reached up and smacked Iris in the back of her knees, staggering her forward; she kept herself safe as she dodged left, and as another set of something whizzed near her -
- she was suddenly facing Salvatore 30ft away; Natasha's wrists twisted & shattered -
- but Phantom rotted a hole below themselves and into it fell the two, hole repairing itself above as she loosened her grip on Natasha and used Phantom to burrow ahead. Asphalt rotted and reformed behind them, lightly dragging Natasha with her yet far heavier than it should be. She glanced back and spoke: "Natasha, I-"
Another cough shuddered Natasha's gaping chest, heading out more blood as a finger of lava tried to cauterize her wounds. Iris used Phantom's heat to assist how she could as she continued to burrow, keeping Natasha tight in her other arm as she ran underground. Soon, however, she lost her sense of direction; concrete swung into her head, and as she tried to revert it -
- she felt it moving too fast to revert with Phantom -
- until she reverted them back to tar and a heavy glut of liquid asphalt hit her skull, far less deadly than their formerly solid form. Still she ran underground.
Natasha was speaking. "The bald guy who approached you didn't care about anything."
"W-What?" said Iris.
"He talked to you about cockroaches. I forgot to blow my nose when you said that. You know, Olivia was there. Right? You know Olivia. And that's when you had dinner with me. People were walking through walls. They were entering and exiting wrong."
"Natasha, I-I- can you wind us out? Back to Urasaria? I-I'm not sure..."
"We opened the door to that house and you were scared. You made things worse for us because you were afraid. I opened up that car with no engine in it. Naomi. Naomi, hey! Naomi. Where are you? You were there, too."
Iris could not know this, but Natasha was referring to the nightmarish fight she & Naomi had once gone on, only she had projected herself into Naomi's position, perhaps as a way to help reconnect that relationship if only in an illusory sense.
Iris kept rushing and tried to focus, then swept up out of a rotted hole; she was in the middle of another sidewalk, but still thought she heard Salvatore's frame growing in the distance. Keeping Natasha tight, she rotted away a safe alcove in a nearby wall and deposited her there, throwing Flickendecke patches onto her, collapsing some rubble ahead of her and sloppily repairing it with a few airholes; she was forced to work quickly so Salvatore would not find she was there.
His shouting brightened. No time to waste, Iris rotted away handholds in a 3-floor building beside her, and up she climbed; she had just reached the roof when she saw Salvatore entering the sidewalk below, passing by Natasha's alcove with no notice.
She thought to flee, but she would not do so without Natasha; she could not do so until Salvatore was dead. She knew that she needed to figure out his Revenant, to find the source of his counter, but her hands would not quiet. He was a stronger host than her; his reaction times better; far more experienced; his ability possibly superior to her own.
She crouched down to focus... something difficult to do now. She directed Phantom's webs to cover her back; they would stick to her so long as they never left her body. "T-Twist them r-right..."
She leaped down and to the street below, updrafts of pressure slowing her as she landed on the sidewalk behind Salvatore. Twenty feet separated them as he turned to her and laughed. "Ain't you got someone you should be luggin' around? I'll give you about 7 seconds to get out of my fuckin' sight, kid."
She was fearful, yet she tried to sublimate it through anger; an unholy emotion gathered in herself as she lurched forward and sent a superheated blast into his skull -
- and nothing happened.
She backed away, trying to stay close but not too much so, attempting to make her ingrown rage crowd out other emotion; yet a cold feeling sat in her stomach and she worried that she was too weak, that the world would again be too strong.
Salvatore shrugged. "Well, that's that. Over the lips, past the gum..."
She saw his palm begin to twitch and knew she needed to find the source of his Revenant: she focused Phantom solely upon him, leaving her vulnerable yet constantly checking what around him she could not manipulate. If she could not be stronger than him, she would be more durable.
In microseconds she felt tiny, metal ball bearings appear that shot into the sidewalk behind her; slabs of concrete slammed into her ankles and she staggered into the gun store at her left, a bit more exaggeratedly than usual as the store's awning swung down upon her; she knew it would be too fast to directly revert -
- so a glut of melted metal swung around her neck as she stumbled back into this gun store, rushing to the center with the relevant merchandise on both sides of herself; every light in the room shattered and bits of glass shot into her as Salvatore strode into the doorway, but in the next instant -
- Phantom searched for when the guns had last been fired and every firearm there shot towards him -
- but the bullets flew around Salvatore, and on their return flight to Iris he shouted at her to dodge; she saw the projectiles spinning as -
- one shot through her left leg and drilled a hole into her bones as the rest of the swarm descended upon her -
- but a swift white lightning pulled all the metal bullets together, smashing them into a single molten mass -
- but another ball-bearing hit the molten mass, eroding it away into an enormous drill that shot by Iris's shoulder and churned a chunk out from her as it soared past her, and as she felt it on its return trip to her back -
- the next scene was instant. The drill hit her back yet did no damage; she turned as soon as it was caught within her webs -
- and it flew back to Salvatore at twice the speed, then shot through his stomach and began drilling into his flesh -
- but its rotation paused, and Salvatore laughed as he grabbed it and discarded it to the side. "That your big counter?"
"R-Rotation." grunted Iris.
Her webs had been carefully applied to catch a rotating projectile without being tangled themselves. Earlier, she had resummoned before her the moment of red lightning striking Natasha, as little as she wished to do so, and had realized the momentary spin in his torso; one section spun while the others did not move.
But he was not disturbed by her knowledge, and she knew why; she still could not figure a counter to this, if every attack she had could be spun this way. Perhaps if she struck his heart..
"Knowing an ability don't mean knowing the Revenant, see? You think those little Mobius web shits are gonna work twice, eh?"
Iris felt the webs on her back; many were frayed or had shrivelled in existence once they were not touching her. Even if she could do so again, she would need a spot to focus.
She turned, and rushed out the backdoor of the store into the alleyway beyond; a ladder led up the building beside and she caught a rung with her good hand, leaped as fast as she could up and made her way to the roof above, hitting the ceiling running and rushing across it. Behind the walls wobbled and swiftly rotated, slowing her sprint as she hit the edge of the roof and was forced to take a leap off down to the street below; streams of pressure kept her safe as she hit the road ahead with a doll, popped up and kept her rush going up another sidewalk, glancing back to see the building's walls part for Salvatore 50ft behind.
She faked left, then veered right over the road; a ball bearing hit the road below and rotated her -
- and her other wrist into another volley that completely shattered it in a glut of twisting bones; below, she felt slabs of concrete rotate and readying to smash her legs -
- but the next scene was instant. A wince went through her as she threw her hands down to protect her legs -
- two slabs of concrete slammed into her palms and bent her fingers back into her elbows; a scream of agony passed her lips and a low groan as pain streamed through her, but she had bought herself enough time to duck behind the next street corner, and keep her working legs going up another sidewalk.
Her wrists had popped out from her skin, and she was bleeding heavily; she had known she would need to outlast him and her hopes were latched to this strategy as pain tried to slow her.
She recognized this street; she had only a few to go. Her fingers worked, only barely, her wrists in such pain she dared not try to rotate them properly. Lampposts beside her step rotated but did not strike her; Salvatore was deliberately not yet attacking her again.
She passed the road left and ran up another sidewalk, and glancing back a few seconds in, stores at her left, she didn't see him behind her until -
- a dozen bottles of alcohol went rotating out of the store and smashed into her -
- but Phantom reverted them into sand -
- whose super-rotated friction still scraped her skin as they went flying past her; she was bleeding profusely now as she leaned against the wall, reverted its concrete into paste and smeared it into her wounds to stem them, a superheated blast cauterizing what she couldn't yet close.
Salvatore was 70ft ahead and walking towards her. She had nearly made it to the next corner, her body broken in several ways but for her legs and her spider, its weaving legs twitching.
He spoke. "You talk like that dyke who destroyed Russia and yet when you got a shot at much smaller shit, you just can't fuckin' do it. There's a reason nobody's fucked with Salvatore in 30 years and tonight shows why. You coulda fled and left me to go off to the Bahamas until this shit dies down, but instead you got an ego and I gotta kill you just like I did that idiot bastard of mine. How long has your mentor got?"
As he walked past the liquor store -
" - Phantom!" shouted Iris as a wince went through her -
- the glass bottles from earlier flew towards him, but she knew he would try to rotate them; a hand of pressure cracked the bottles into a hundred-sharded volley of glass, and as his fingers twitched -
- the sidewalk below him reverted into thick white paste and into it he was sucked in, more paste forming below to try to trap him further; his aim thrown off, glass shards sliced across his flesh and flayed his skin off in strips -
- but these strips rapidly rotated and reflected the projectiles away as Phantom hardened the concrete paste around him, encasing him up to mid-torso level; he grunted, thrashed and writhed, his entire body rotating in separate directions, sending thick cracks through the entire sidewalk and pulling more asphalt in that instantly shattered.
His entire body became a dervish and was rapidly shattering through the sidewalk, and Iris was struggling to keep her own footing steady as she tried to revert his damage; she was forced to divert a few Phantom strands to keep her own ground steady, more paste reverting ahead to dunk him further within. His chest entirely submerged, his neck dipping underneath, as shards of concrete flew into her chest and tried to drill deep -
- she gasped and shouted for Phantom before they pierced her heart, reverting them away from her, but in that moment of mental falteration -
- his concrete prison shattered, and he wasted no time hurling himself up out of the hole, rotating off the accumulated concrete paste as he rushed towards her -
" - PHANTOM!"
- the concrete paste flew back onto him; its concrete constituent rotted and left only water -
- Salvatore jerked his head away, but the water of the paste gripped his neck, ultra-pressure wringing and shoving water over his nostrils & mouth, a blanket of water encasing his breath like a rapidly deepening ocean, his lips shouting yet writhing to no noise -
- until the water rotated and evaporated -
- sending a scalding jet of steam through Iris's right arm and deepening her existing wound as he staggered, but was still moving towards her much faster ahead.
No option but her original intention, Iris staggered past the corner and tried to shove her legs to move faster. She was in another avenue; there were few cars and buildings were at their rightful positions, yet she ran as she could up the center of the road, glancing right to confirm the presence of something she hoped Salvatore would not notice. Her lungs searing, she used the rest of her air to carry herself a few seconds more up the road, and -
- a ball bearing hit the asphalt below her and rotated her to face Salvatore ahead. She tried to back away -
- but the asphalt rotated her to face him, again and again; he was growing closer, and every time Iris backed she came to face him again. He was angry now.
"You gonna try burrowing away again? You can't keep runnin', dyke. There's shit you can't learn outta a textbook and killing a host ten times stronger than you is one of them."
"…I-I know." Iris grunted. "T-That's why I brought you back to this avenue."
Salvatore sneered, then realized what she meant -
- an empty truck smashed through him at 500mph from the back and he went rolling over the bed and speared through the windshield; it stopped in front of Iris and a bolt of green lightning shot at him, and in the next less than an instant -
- it reflected as red -
- but the car fell to pieces and the metal debris contained him; a scream of nightmarish agony was encased within as the dual bolts shot through his body and bits of charred bone erupted out of the enclosure, a heavy scent of burnt flesh seeping outwards. The debris tried to rotate him out yet Phantom's last lurch of strength kept the prison pressurized, a nightmarish cacophony of electricity contained within these plates of a broken car, blood spewing out in heavy geysers and a tortured scream shattering within.
Iris was 20ft away when the debris rotated off from him.
Pieces of his torso had been blasted apart. His right leg was a horrible mess of flayed flesh & bone, a scar burnt through his body. Broken shards of his ribs were leaking onto the asphalt, and he was limping & crawling away. "A-Ah g-g-god, f-fuck...!" The ends of his arteries were burnt shut; he groaned and crawled like a man in a ghastly nightmare, in a voice so low it was nearly a whimper: "G-God, f-fuck n-no, f-fuck..."
He glanced back to Iris approaching him carefully, and realized he might have placed himself in a fight against the rare sort of host that could kill him: that she would do so quickly and violently. He thought he should have fled, not she, but he raged against the idea like a god dethroned in the Titanomachy: he thought it a vicious sort of cowardice that had not made him to where he was today. But there was the eversort of fair interplay between them: that he had done the same to her what she may do to him. There was naught beyond that in nature.
She was a mile above him, crafting some sort of blunt weapon out of the asphalt that her spider could just barely grasp for her. He lost sensation in parts of his body, and as he turned his head away to try to crawl again, the asphalt-bat was thrown at the back of his head and hit it with such force that it mined out a cavern of brain & skull; he rolled before it could hit him again, and she was closer now, only a few feet above him.
A streetlamp's base rotted and tottered low enough for Iris to dip her arm underneath and pull him up by his leg, his arms flailing, and swing him hard enough into the pole that his entire body wrapped around it. He was screaming, trying to claw at her with his metal ball bearings as she slammed him onto a carpet of asphalt spikes, made by careful rotting of the road. She was a sadist; she dragged him across the spikes and sliced through his back, each knife growing and twisting itself inside of him in agonizing convulsions.
One struck his bacterial colony and black hands spewed from it; he saw one slam into Iris's cheek and send her sputtering off to the side, as the spikes retreated; rising up with heavy exertion, he lurched towards her to -
- an ultraheated blast consumed his head and left nothing.
Still staggered, she looked on as black hands reclaimed his heart. An ancient but wordless storm seemed ready to grip the city as she stood over his body.
First she needed to help Natasha.
She rushed back up the block and tried to remember where she had left Natasha. Nothing seemed to have changed in the universe yet; she tried to make sure it would not. She could not find Natasha on this street, and tried to rush across the other blocks, glancing down and stifling a shout. She took out her phone, tried to call Natasha, then peered with Phantom to where a vague vibration twitched in eternity; she ran to where it was.
Natasha was laying within the alcove where Iris had put her. Her fingers were in her pocket where she usually kept her phone, their grip dissipated as if a decayed sand. Iris gently shook her to try to make her illuminated interior reply, to make her an image that could move again. Parts of her chest were laying in pieces beside her where it had trailed during Iris's earlier haul. Her heart was intact and her blood was burnt. Phantom tried to stitch her former shape together, yet an unnaturalness shuddered through her.
She pulled Natasha out, then over her shoulder, and attempted to stifle a cry; to view her as a stranger again and banish their familiarity to make her only a sack of meat. Her eyelids quivered, then quavered. Tears ran down her face, her cheeks, past her nose, to the end of her chin, below the full night that fell from the vastitude of space, and the notice of that giant whose near-infinite life made small the ratio of her time.
[END OF ARC: A HOST IN THE FAMILY]