The distant male's shape rang out to her intact eyes, for even as she limped with her allies aiding her, she could make out that familiar sight. His muscles, the way he carried himself and walked so casually, there was no doubt her initial assumption was indeed correct. There stood, waving to the trio of girls, none other than Darrell Jefferson, feeling the wind brush his hair back as they zoomed forward, now standing in front of his bulking anatomy. Not only the Plague, Natalia, but Mei Rivera and Edward Singh, by her side, gazing and examining the worried face of the elder man. As expected, ignorant to the events that transpired mere minutes ago, he inched closer, desiring to examine the shape of her body, searching for any damages made to her outer vessel.
"Are you hurt? You seem down... did something happen? Tch, this is what happens when you let kids do something as dangerous as what you did."
But what followed was what he hadn't expected, the touch of a hand grabbing his shoulder had said it all, for he'd been in this position so many times before. He understood, from the puffy eyes painted red to the sniffle, gifted with a sheepish grin, not to mention her careless stare at his gruff features.
What did saving a life come with? A feeling of gratitude to others, grateful to continue moving, memorializing the essence of your soul for all eternity as you embed your mark upon the world with every new step you take. The potential to be something greater than yourself, to ensure another's heart continues beating; wasn't that such a wondrous thing? Or rather, that was... the assumption. For the opposite of stealing one's life, what was it? To take, to steal, to kill, so ruthless the perpetrator was.
But those feelings of self-doubt, the desire to pity oneself, it all subsided, lost in the intricacies of an infinite maze that held no exit, for she existed in the present, holding her head as her bottom was guided to yet another metal bench.
"Are you okay?"
That was all he could ask. But she'd done it before, hadn't she? Then again, feeling the guilt tighten up your chest as an action is taken without your say-so, how violating that must feel, having taken the lives of people who don't even exist anymore, and finally, having a clean slate. And yet, once more, her hands were dirtied with the blood of those deemed 'innocent.' What more could she do? Hope to continue living, block out everything else, face forward, and act as nothing happened? Like she didn't cruelly ruin the flame of life from so many individuals, so many who had the strength, maybe even the potential to surpass everyone. And she, the Plague, Natalia Smith, was the cause. She extinguished that life, no one else. No manipulator, no master pulling the strings- only her.
But guilt at this time was weakness, she couldn't stand around wallowing about baseless possibilities that could go on ad infinitum, all she could do was move onward. Though the weights of those deaths weighed on her shoulders alone, she must continue, for the sake of her betterment. So, what more could she say? Admit her sins to this older man, spill her guts out to him willingly, wail some more about the lives she smothered so casually? She was better than that. And so, it was buried, covered by dirt, for the bones she hid that day didn't dare to rear their ugly heads again. There was no doubt about what she said, that the following words she let out from her lips-
"I'm fine."
…were complete and utter lies in their purest form.
But the time for slow moments had passed. The background roared with thunderous quakes and fiery explosions, leaving Darrell to stare at the debris levitating from the streets just some meters away, Mei turning to the dark-skinned man.
"We should probably find another place to survey... or whatever the hell it is we're doing," Mei suggested, leading Jeff to nod, brown eyes glowing the same color as her own, he unzipped the space right behind him to reveal the inner machinations of the Blanketed pocket dimension, surrounded by light.
No stone unturned, they entered, calmly and casually, right up until the moment a hand grabbed at one of their ankles. But how could that be? They'd all felt it, but it only occurred for one of them. The claws sharpened to that of a vampire's whim, pleading for blood to dirty their fangs, the monster revealed its distorted shape from a shadow puddle, leaving only Natalia as the pocket closed, deserting her with this new foe, a beast taken form.
But she didn't worry, after what she'd just been through, this was mere child's play for her. The arm disintegrated, reverting to negative space as just the tip of some fingers grazed the meaty exterior of its outer flesh-shell. However, she was smarter than that; to believe that some random beast would give up that easily, no doubt in her mind existed that this was something more than the initial assumption. Reforming from the darkness cast by the moon of the infinite nightfall, there he stood, the progenitor of Chaos, none other than the devilish Jester, Icarus Chrollo before her very eyes.
"You..." The way she whispered, no matter how faint, he could infer whatever bloodlust stood lodged in her throat. She was just aching to get her hands on him and rid him of the heart that sustained his life, and he knew it, or rather, he... enjoyed it.
"Yes, me! Sorry about our last encounter, I didn't mean for things to turn out that way, truly! I was just... testing a new toy of mine if that makes any sense," It differed from the way she scowled, compared to her, there existed no raspy growl, just the calm notes of a composed man, feigning ignorance to garner a reaction.
"I'm not YOUR FUCKING TOY!"
Needless to say, his provocation worked like a charm, for as she slammed her palm against the pavement, it sent a ball of erasure energy through the pipelines, destined to disintegrate anything in its path, attempting to revert it all to nothing. Unfortunately for her, as a building's foundation crumbled in the distance, Icarus remained this time, behind her, now tapping her shoulder with one finger, a mischievous sharp-toothed grin painting his pink lips.
There existed a split-second before she turned before she dared to throw another attack his way before she attempted to punch square at his attractive face and that shit-eating grin he flaunted around so excitedly. It was like walking through the park in the middle of the night, the sounds of distant horns as cars rushed past, the rain smelt in the air, there remained nothing more than this feeling. If it were in the midst of spring, if it were winter, maybe, just maybe, she'd feel safe. But, there was one factor that contributed to the opposite, and that was the unseeing eyes that stalked her like she were the prey of an unknown predator. The feeling of being watched, in the palm of their hand, taking advantage of your ignorance, of your weakness; she knew he was behind her, but what would he do? Kill her? Torture her? Violate her?
She'd underestimated him, the abilities he held in his twisted arsenal were less significant threats than the evil nature the human heart had such familiarity with. But to call this- THING human, she couldn't! Without a shadow of a doubt, the creature to her end was nothing other than the embodiment of evil itself.
"What's wrong? I thought you were going to GET me..."
She was powerless in the eye of the Jester, his unpredictable persona had grown fangs to replace his teeth, and at any given moment, he could sink them into her flesh and render her without a heart. And yet, despite everything, she couldn't back down, even as all her nerves commanded her to retreat, an emboldened voice reached out to her. Informing her that she wasn't alone, that she was no longer helpless, and that her power, it was far beyond the scope of anything this world had seen. The little thing that tiny voice didn't tell her? That power, far beyond the scope of anything this world had ever seen, was for better or for worse, and let's just say, the future had much worse things than she could ever imagine.
And it all began with this fight here.
He'd vanished a second time, but she needn't look far, or even turn her head, for now, he was right back where he'd started. Standing in the crater of the destroyed road, Icarus looked up at her, gifted with that signature smugness she couldn't wipe away, for as she gazed down at his pitiful face, she could glance at a glance at the manifestation of his energy. There that voice was again, but this time, the chosen words were not to appraise her, rather, to enlighten her. But she didn't need to listen anymore, as she took one step forward and dropped to match his height, she'd descended into the realm of the Demon.
To Be Continued.