"Why did you bully that girl?"
"I don't know,"
"Why did you make her feel worthless?"
"I don't know,"
"Why did you drive her to kill herself?"
"I don't know…"
Her golden hair was still, her eyes devoid of emotion, empty, with her bottom pressed against the voided platform formerly below her. The yellow eyes gleaming with insanity popped up all over the shadowy background surrounding her seated frame, Kelly's eyes stood locked downward, examining her apathetic expression reflecting in the pond of darkness. Tendrils from another world seemed to entrap her ankles, yanking her deeper and deeper, Kelly only drowned further below the underground of this river of emptiness.
She was the one to end that girl's life, no matter what the circumstances, even if she didn't pull the trigger or thrust her flesh with a sharpened knife, in reality, she was just as guilty. She essentially tied the not and stood right in that room waiting for Anna to step inside, so her neck could break instantly… it was painless. But no one could've known what her future would've been.
The potential she held, what she would've done in the future, the family she'd built. All of that was robbed, and Kelly, the one who'd sworn to ensure that anyone damaged she knew would be healed, had been the cause of ridding an innocent young girl of her life. Needless to say, it was ironic cruelty as its finest, but all these facts remained the same. They were facts and Summers knew them all already, for after she'd left her school in the middle of her very first class, she remained locked behind the door to her room.
Those eyes of her, brown in shade, remained unchanged, the same as they were when she fled. Devoid of feeling, the light faded while tears streamed down her cheeks, she held no reaction. Her fingers curled inward, veins protruding out her inner skin as her fists tightened the grip over her pants. There was no turning back. Without any way to resolve this feeling in her heart with teeth-gritting against one another, she inhaled shakily with more tear droplets bursting out her eyes' edges… from then on, Kelly Summers declared herself a 'bad person,
"Hmm. Isn't that funny? You've judged yourself for the person you believe you are, and not who you 'truly' are. If everyone moped around for every little pathetic selfish action they committed, no one would get anything done. Accept the sins of your past, stop tormenting yourself over something you can't change just by seeing it again. There's… nothing you can do, Ms. Summers," She couldn't help but laugh at the entity's comforting words, with a smile appearing over her pink lips, streaming tears visible as they down-poured over her face,
"I still… heh, I still can't believe it, to be honest. Someone like me, an ordinary person talking with some transcendental entity like you, one whose power and influence go beyond that of the mortal realm. I can't help but wonder about the truth of you. Why're you helping me?" Asked the oblivious blonde girl of the Sea God.
To which, in response, he held no sense of emotion over his squid-like features, noticing the way she stared into his madness-inducing yellow-colored pupils. No sweat leaked out her pores hidden on her pale skin, she just stared, but the way those eyes seemed devoid of life just added to it. Without a shadow of a doubt, this woman was on the verge of… being liberated from the chains that bound her. Chortling with a flourishing vocalization echoing endlessly into this limitless darkness, that which held no end to the infinite nothingness, that same laughter that would send others to the knees.
And all the while, Kelly kept her eyes forward, aimed right ahead on her target, hesitation nonwavering. In the end, it was all the sent to her, that look in her eyes, that indescribable emptiness she was formerly drowning in had not only enveloped her body. But thereby sunk deeper into her skin, seeping into her veins and invading her soul like a deadly virus, and yet she stood this way. Needless to say, for the Great Old One, the incarnation of power and insanity for humanity's inability to process anything beyond their imagination, he had but one answer for her,
"I was a ruler of the planet way before any of you were conceived. Truth be told, the Earth is my birthright and that of my brethren. When Rivers suggested that he be the new Ruler and create a new frontier for humanity, I had to make sure those who followed him held the same ambition he did. If not, they were unworthy to be by his side," Cthulhu readily explained then vanishing once more into the darkness, for Kelly to nod her head before quirking a brow upright over her left eye,
"Why… wait, why is Cal so interesting? Isn't he just a normal guy with the ambition of like, a god or something..?" Asked Kelly curiously of the dormant Sea God formerly resting below the inter-dimensional island, to which it chuckled.
No words he spouted out following such an inquiry would leave her without an answer still, nevertheless, he still spoke, disregarding revealing himself from the darkness once again,
"The laws of causality bind me from speaking too directly. However, I doubt one bit of knowledge would affect the rivers of fate too much. Heed my warning, child. When you hear the following words spit out your Founder's mouth, the truth shall be revealed," Cthulhu warned of the younger human, to which the woman waited in anticipation… her ears wide open.
"…" Kelly nodded her head upon hearing it, standing up straight, a flick of a wrist had sent her back to reality as she jerked awake. Eyes widening, brown pupils rapidly searching and analyzing the corners of this chamber, she soon found there was nothing to fear.
She was home in reality, where the light from the moon's white illumination leaked through the windows to shine upon the back of her head. A reality where she was this version of herself. Nothing more, nothing less, but just this. As her dominant two fingers scratched the headache away from her temples, she couldn't help but question what exactly occurred,
'Why'd that thing let me go? I didn't like to admit some horrible truth to myself yet… I just asked a question. Then again, maybe he figured if I was there any more than I was supposed to, I'd ask more and annoy him. Makes sense. But what does that word mean..? I feel like I've heard it before,' Kelly pondered not only where but when, for some reason, as she pulled her arms through the sleeves of her leather jacket, she couldn't help but shake that feeling.
A button pressed by a thumb, the ding of an elevator, all of it seemed distant to her as there was but one question ringing louder than a biker firing out a pistol's barrel beside her ear. And that was:
'The hell does Unchain mean? And where've I heard it before?'
Just as she asked herself this question the infinite regents of her mind, a certain Samurai had stabbed a katana right into a guard's head. Driving the tip right into his brain, the sharpness digging even deeper to penetrate his heart, Ryosuke tore the blade right out feeling the droplets splash onto his features. Licking his lips momentarily, that ringing sensation had echoed outward to slam against his eardrums. The Samurai had then chuckled, and used his katana to simply slice through the incoming bullet right down the middle, then driving his legs forward with just enough force to slide through his entire body.
Within just the span of a few seconds, two bodies had been laid waste to, in other words, then… the massacre had begun. All the pieces had fallen into place, and with Callum behind the joystick piloting the chopper, his index fingers were just above those red buttons. Ryosuke glanced back at the Founder behind the windshields of the helicopter, retracing his steps, he stood right at the entrance. As in, between the see-through metal gates, he got into position.
Area 51 was infamous for its multitude of advanced weaponry and government secrets hidden within. Rifles with extended clips, lengthened barrels, missile launchers, all of them would eventually be destroyed by the click of a certain button. And just like that, the tip of the ballistics had smashed against the rooftop of the facility, and leading the workers inside to cover their heads as rubble crushed their bodies. However, the launchers weren't equipped with just one missile, so while the right one destroyed a part of the rooftop to sink the weaponry aimed at Callum overhead, the left one had opened the doorway for Ryosuke to speed inside and begin the massacre.
The guards inside couldn't even blink before their lives flashed before their eyes, and their heads flew off their shoulders spinning around into the air. Rapidly-firing bullets targeted the blur moving at somewhat breakneck speeds, eventually, however, the rifle was cut in half and their face was sliced the same way. Landing onto his feet, crouching his knees, he looked ahead exhaling carefully, dirtied with his enemies' blood. Still in that stance, he crossed his forearms with one hand, guarding with a black-gold katana whilst forming a Jutsu sign in the other.
Before Satoru, there stood the sight of enemies, those who wore only black, visors hiding their eyes, headbands' tails over their shoulders. Three in total, each lined up, their outfits didn't defer, if they hadn't stood in a straight line, you'd believe they were the same person, just a clone of themself. The Samurai's breaths were calm, steady, his chest gradually falling then rising as he held that stood there as if waiting… he didn't have to for long, though.
The one in the middle stepped forward, turning their palm right around so it could face the ceiling, leaving Ryosuke to widen his eyes, shrinking his pupils,
"Wha-"
A literal double-edged sword had magically formed out of their hand, popping out their hand, they grabbed at the center and spun it around. Within half a second, a shockwave radiated out from a result of the enemies clashing with each other, blades' metals unleashing sparks. Ryosuke couldn't help but grit his teeth, at the same time, clicking his tongue irritatedly, forcibly slammed against the defense. The ninja-like warrior leaned forward, their visors reflecting Satoru's dark face right back into his eyes, but just then, it hit him.
Thanks to their weapon choice, they were unable to offend with any sort of hand movement added to the swordplay. So, just with one free hand as opposed to the two occupied of his opponent, he'd already established the upper hand. Back flipping with hands stabilizing his turn, his legs kicked them out the way, then landing right back on his feet once more. Taking this chance, he ran ahead while they were discombobulated, and, with ease, he'd cut through their body disconnecting their chest from their waist.
The other two who'd stood by ran head to meet with their Samurai rival, one with a staff and the other with a short sword, Ryosuke ducked his head. At the same time, he slid his legs job to their sides so he could skid against the bloody floor. One of the ninja's legs was disconnected immediately from this slide, flying right into the air with blood splashing more against the walls. Out the corner of his eye, as he and the final ninja-fighter exchanged blows with their differentiated-sized swords, he could witness the staff disintegrating after having touched the floor.
Grunting allowed after a thrust to stab the chest through the outer skin layer, the ninja spun right to the right; easily weaving out the puncturing attack. Palm jamming against Ryosuke's throat, the Samurai choking on his spit, watching it fly out his mouth through blurred vision, then… stepping back, holding his neck, he could barely make out the move. He could see his life flashing before his eyes, every event that had tragically transpired before the present, unfortunately, he couldn't dodge in time. And with that, a kick SLAMMED against his skull, leading it to crash against the wall, shoulder interlocking against the concrete structure.
Nostrils turned the other way, blood leaking down his forehead out the cracks in his dark skin, he uttered weakly,
"Sh… shit…"
Nevertheless: he never let go of that blade. That blade on which he made himself, the one he crafted for the sake of letting personal justice reign down from the katana's tip upon those demons who tormented his soul, even while on the verge of perishing, Ryosuke Satoru grabbed onto the very essence that made him himself. The ninja was mute, strutting right toward their beaten enemy, then, once more, manifesting another weapon out their body.
Yanking two swords right off their back formed with rapidly moving nanotechnology, Ryosuke couldn't help but smile in the face of danger, droplets of blood leaking down his open mouth revealing those rows of previously shiny teeth. And yet now, they were tainted by the innards of that Samurai, just seconds away from being annihilated. Death was always close to him, like a neighbor you live beside or a classmate you work next to, but it never inched closer, it never grabbed him by the throat with those icy skeletal fingers. It seemed that one moment was forever stretching into a bottomless well he couldn't look back upon, and let his head fall as it all weighed down on his shoulders, a shaky breath exited his lips.
Then, bang! The assassin felt their blood drip down gradually, pouring down each cheek as it split down their nostrils shape protruding out the mask. Without much strength remaining, he could barely make out his Founder's boots stepping over mutilated corpses, firearm in his left hand, barrel smoking with a stream emerging out the front,
"I can see why you got beat," Said Rivers, aiding his comrade and throwing his arm over his neck, dirtying his suit in blood,
"Sh… shut up. Don't mock me…" Whispered Ryosuke weakly, basically dragging his feet against the ground, with more guards popping out of nowhere.
Bang, bang! More heads had their brains blown out the back, as the protectors never even had the chance to pull the trigger, meaning it was but a breeze for Callum to reach his destination. Bending his knees so he could stay place Satoru against a wall, an arm over his chest, Cal walked right past her with just one pistol in hand. Each new step he made had reverberated throughout the facility, those who hide felt the sweat leak out their pores, like a rainy day, soon, their clothes stocked to their bodies with disgusted whimpers.
That one eye, the Founder, foretold to rise by the visions of the future he'd witnessed all that time ago, had walked. One leg in front of the other, the other sliding behind, and then again. And again. And again. None of them had ever seen his face before, and yet they cowered. It was as almost as if the very Devil himself had incarnated into this place, just to take his vengeance upon them all. Rolling up his sleeves, he ducked under a baton slash and tripped the enemy attacking him. Grabbing him by his wrist just before he could hit the ground, the man whimpered in agony feeling his wrist snap by a sole finger pushing against it,
"Need this," Menacingly demanded Rivers of his prey, and just following that, there was the oddest thing.
Cal was scarred, his body was weak, it made sense for him just to use a pistol, be a puppeteer manipulating events from behind the scenes, stay in the chopper while attacking the facility with missiles. However, for some reason, it was almost as though he harnessed the raw power of the King of the Jungle's throat. With ease and without fail, he'd torn the guard's hand right off by their wrist… stoic expression over his features.
And there it stood, the towering scenery, a ship constructed of solely metal, a miracle it hadn't sunken into the depths of the enclosed hanger singling out but one portion of the oceans' vastness. Inscribed on the side dotted in ink was none other than the name of this beast, reading: 'S.S. Revolution.' And just like that, untucking his shirt so he could holster his firearm, he smirked for a moment and relieved himself of the suit jacket he'd previously donned, untangling the tie soon thereafter. Just as it disconnected from his collar, that crimson indicator glistened with anticipation as his vocals shone with that same childish thrill…
"Bingo."
To Be Continued!