Existing within the confines of this odd world without encountering the demons that carelessly roamed the broken streets was a myth, the way their snouts sniffed so loudly, in search of food to satiate that hunger. Creatures like these only fed on one thing, and that was that tasty stench that belonged solely to human skin, for as they bounced in their monstrous forms at the bodies of the battling duo, they were sliced to pieces as if nothing but paper being sliced by scissors.
June could only turn her head so quickly, ducking just in time, hair flying upward, strands scratched by an incoming slash, but even so, she didn't falter. With Ace as her brother, sparring with him, the way those fists came speeding by her face, the wind curving around his muscled arms; even against his beloved little sister, he didn't pull his punches. And because of that, neither did SHE! A simple uppercut launched the head of the wolf monster into the air, a fountain of blood spurting out from within flesh as it soared further into the air, June stood upright, the tendrils attaching to her arm as if to form a curved blade, of sorts.
"You should probably duck!" She cried, expanding the range of the emerald tendrils extended out her shoulders to an elongated former than what they previously were.
Almost like it was instinct, Darrell immediately ducked, and seconds later, stood tall once again, shoving his hands into his pants pockets, watching as June's feet danced around the cut-corpses of her monster adversaries.
"Were you always so strong?"
She shook her head at his question, flicking away snowy locks prohibiting her vision, a scoff exiting her lips, her arms raised to the air, bones cracking naturally, a relieved moan following an automatic breath.
"Actualllyyyyy, I didn't always. I used to be so annoying and talkative, but recently, thanks to you, I managed to grow and accept myself. I want to help people that need it when it comes to things they don't know how to control. You remember that, don't you?"
That night they spent together on a rooftop, randomly awaiting the sight of the rising sun to shine on their faces, consumed by the despair of uselessness and darkness... he couldn't help but wonder what caused that turmoil to subside? Was it the light from the rising dawn, as he'd believed, or was it his soul, the embers of life continuing to spiral as he enjoyed every second he spent with her? Even so, the way she turned her head and smiled so brightly, reminding him of that child he named his daughter so long ago, there was no doubt about it. Despite the gruesome nature of the atmosphere they stood surrounded by, there was no doubt about it.
Whatever would occur shortly didn't matter, because this was the present, and as long as they moved their feet in sync with their shared destination, Darrell enjoyed every moment he spent by her side. The young girl that reminded him of his daughter, no matter the age distance they shared, there was no doubt about this swelling sensation originating at the heart's core.
The feeling of admiration.
"Like it was just yesterday."
That smile she gifted him so carelessly as if she didn't care with the way she revealed those rows of white, the way she turned around with a giggle on her hip, wearing her happiness on her sleeve, Jefferson tread carefully beside her. There was no doubt she was enjoying her newfound resolve with a joyful attitude about herself, then again, it seemed she'd almost forgotten their whereabouts. The barren wasteland dubbed another world where Remnants of a broken world lingered on, roaming with hunched backs and foaming mouths, fangs as sharp as a vampire's natural teeth. But who was he to rain on her parade?
To protect the happiness pouring out her youthful heart, he continued with a weary heart as his chills started to emerge. The more they walked, the more he became certain, the pupils reaching the edges of the eyeballs continuously until they reached a climax with a familiar sound entering his ears, however distant it might've been.
Jeff stood quick on his toes, spinning his legs and raising his arms, galaxy pupils flashing the emerald signature of Convergence, the clash of metal clashing against metal entered the ears of June. As she raised her hand to prepare an attack, the man reflecting golden patterns squinted at her with his glowing eyes, ones that peered not only into her soul's depths but banishing it, no matter how temporary, within the confines of Hell's blistering heat.
'Those eyes...'
Her consciousness dwindled between both plains, tired groans exiting her lips as she held her head, rubbing at the temples with weakened fingers, Jeff's eyes widened at the familiar sound of a collapsing body.
"June!" He cried with an almost-broken voice.
Throwing the attacker off his arms for him to fly backward, smoothing transitioning into a backflip, Ryosuke landed like a ballerina onto his legs. Turning around the sharpness to reflect his orange eyes, another sigh could be heard entering the corrupt atmosphere along with steps across scattered bones as legs made their way to the hunched man holding the unconscious young girl.
"I'll be taking the first Artifact, please." The Samurai's cold voice, emboldened with a masculine tone; so deep, you'd imagine it was God Himself communicating down from the Heavens to speak to you.
But even after that demand, Jeff continued to coddle June's limp figure in his beefy arms, attempting to jerk her to consciousness with the tiniest flicker of movement from his hands to her body, but even so, nothing worked. It seemed that even strong demands with the implied threat of death meant nothing to his enemy, and so, as the sword raised, Satoru prepared to chop his head off his dark-skinned shoulders and reveal what laid on the inner machinations of human anatomy's scarlet innards.
To this day, Satoru Ryosuke couldn't tell what halted him in his tracks, for his mind drew a blank, and the world turned to snow; entirely and utterly... white.
"Wake up, girl! You're okay... you're-you're okay... aren't cha, baby girl? Just keep breathing and everything'll be okay, I promise... I promise."
Where had he heard these specific words before? He searched and searched for what seemed like eons, but in the palm of his hand, there remained nothing of value, only this weapon. A creation made to destroy, metal carved out solely to slice apart those he deemed unworthy to continue breathing. But who assigned him such a role in life; damned to be an executioner for the remainder of his days? What laid before him was the transgressions of the past, laid bare as those disgusted faces stared down at his infant self, the sadistic chuckles of that predator violating him from behind, all of it stemming from one cause.
Those responsible were punished accordingly, and even so, he continued the carnage he brought with this sword. Their words, they dared to name him a beast- a monster, just for the color of his skin, something he could've never controlled. In the vastness of this snowy world he'd created were nothing but he existed, he had only one question, amid the ongoing stroke, destined to slice off the man's head:
"What... am I?"
Jefferson held his breath, no doubt he'd die here, but even so, with this girl in his arms, there remained no doubts about his resolve. No matter how defenseless he was or how powerless he stood, he'd resuscitate her, he'd confirm her breathing- no matter what! However, the oddest thing occurred, for when he turned his head, he'd realized... he was still thinking, still breathing! This had to be some sort of mistake, but then he registered the images laid bare before his brown eyes. That Samurai of dark-skinned descent, legs crossed, eyes closed, katana in lap, the tips of fingers altogether. He was completely and utterly idle.
"Why... why aren't you attacking us?"
But he received no answer, all he got as a sort of reply was the silence kept still his motionless lips; the confrontation was at an obvious standstill. Neither of them moved an inch from their spots, all that occurred was the natural notion of their lungs circulating the consumed air around their bodies, repeating the cycle in a never-ending fashion as Jefferson continued to gaze at his enemy's quiet facade.
There remained a scream that could never be silenced, no matter how hard he tried to cover it up, it peeked its demonic eyes and reared its horrendous excuse of a face out from within the blanket shielding its monstrous existence. Two forces battled one another within the inner realm of the Satoru Samurai, meditating calmly amidst the chaotic wasteland he sat within.
...
As June snapped herself out of the momentary slumber with a sleepy mumble, her surroundings alerted her to the situation, both she and Darrell sharing a collective glare, but as they raised themselves to stand tall and upright... finally, after minutes of complete stillness, his lips parted.
"My name is Ryosuke Satoru. I am the sole survivor of the Satoru Samurai clan, and after having slaughtered my kin, I realized the joy of taking the lives of those I deemed unfit to live. As time went on, I came to perceive I didn't just enjoy taking the lives of criminals, violators, murderers, but just the act of it. Killing itself had brought joy to the unfulfilling life I called my own. But, now, seeing the way you held young June Wilder in your arms, I feel conflicted," Ryosuke peeled away the composing cross-legged posture he was confined to, fingers tangling around the golden sheath of his inherited blade, the difficulty of revealing his legendary weapon, prepared to be soaked in his enemies' blood, was easy,
"Fight with me, Darrell Jefferson, June Wilder. Rid me of these aching feelings... or die trying."
To Be Continued.