Oliver and Beatrice sat down. Kai clapped his hands and a blackboard appeared to their side, like in a school classroom. Something was written on it in marker: "Topic 1: Narrative Layering" Kai manifested square glasses in his right hand, put them on, then began to speak:
–That's right. You already know very well that everything around you is fictional. Well, then let's pretend you're writers, okay?
–Eh... no, it's too hard, I can write a couple sentences at most, and that would be the end of my inspiration, – Oliver blankly stated.
–Well I'm sure you can do it if you want to be a writer! – Beatrice encouraged him.
–No, no, let's just imagine, – said Kai while rubbing his forehead as if to alleviate a headache stemming from dealing with troublesome children. – Let's imagine that you are writing a book. You see, when you simply imagine something, you immediately create a complete infinite in size universe, if not a multiverse, that is fictional to you. Yes, yes, you just imagine something, and it already exists in a fiction! It will be fiction for you, but to the imagined characters, that world will be quite real.
–You already lost me, – Oliver said while squinting and tilting his head to the side.
–Haha, we're just getting started. It's about to get much more complicated from here. So here it is. You create the whole universe every time you imagine anything, especially if you're imagining a complete story. And since it's a full-fledged universe... there's likely to be at least one character, even if he doesn't actually appear in the story and is just part of the background, who will also be a writer. And he, too, will create a universe by making up a story. Do you get it?
–Mm... can you give an example, Mr. Kai? – Beatrice asked.
–Hmm... well, take a look at this, – said Kai, and a plate appeared in his hand, on which was a layered cake; a layered cake with three layers, specifically. – Here... – Kai pointed to the topmost layer, – ...is where you are. Meanwhile, here... – he pointed to the second layer on top, – ...is the world you have imagined. Lastly, here... – finally, the owner of this pocket world pointed to the bottom layer, – ...is the world imagined by the writer in your imaginary world. In this example, you would be on the highest layer, world you imagined would be 1 layer lower, and the world imagined by the writer in your imaginary world it would be 1 more layer lower. Is that clear?
–Well... a little clearer, even though it is hard to imagine, – Oliver answered, sighing.
–Now watch this trick! Tally-ho!! – New layers began to appear from the top of the cake, going upward so high that the top was no longer visible; in addition, layers also began to appear from the bottom of the cake, piercing the plate and the floor. – This is roughly what the Narrative layering look like. They have no beginning or end, both ways.
After that, the cake became three-layered again, and Kai, who had used it as an example for the everything that exists... began to eat it.
–So, uh, these "Narrative Layers"... surely they cap at some sort of "Infinity", right? You know, like... surely? – Oliver asked, raising his right eyebrow.
–Well, yes, but actually, no. Oh well, let's talk about math if you feel like it. Ahem. Even things like Gregor Cantor's "Absolute Infinity", "Cardinal numbers" and "Alephs Numbers", and even Inaccessible Cardinal... it's all imaginable. After all, we do call such concepts something, which means someone invented them. For example, Absolute Infinity was imagined by Cantor! Quite simple, right? As we all know... ah, no, it's only me who knows it out of all of us. Ahem. Well, here we go. As not we all, but I know, everything that can be imagined is already a fiction and is on the layers of Narrative. Well, if that number is imaginable, then the number of layers of Narrative is immeasurably higher than that number. Uh-huh, even all that is considered "absolute" is infinitesimal compared to the hierarchy of layers of the Narrative.
–Errm... funny numbers go brrr?
–Yeah, Oliver, I knew you weren't good at this, but you're the one who asked, so I am not responsible for your brain burning out. Don't worry, if that happens, I'll bring you back to life. I'll do it even if you don't want to live. Ahem. Narrative layers go far beyond absolutes, immeasurables, and infinities. Then what does that mean? Well, well, come on! Beatrice, if Oliver can't guess it himself, give him a hint.
–It means that Gerda...
–That's right! Gerda and her "real world" is also a fiction written by someone else, who is higher. And whoever wrote Gerda is also written by someone else! And again, and again, and again. No matter how high you go, you'll never get truly real. There is no such thing as "reality," my friends.
Oliver and Beatrice had both lost their gaze. When Oliver already thought he was used to Kai talking about such things completely calmly... but how could he talk like that about how there was no reality? That everything you can think of is already just a fiction? That freedom is impossible to truly achieve?
–Hmm? Why such sullen faces? You know who you're talking to. I lost all hope of being real a long time ago. I can't afford to care anymore. However, that doesn't mean freedom from the writer is impossible! All you have to do is... kill Gerda.
–But... but how is that even possible?! We're just fiction to her! How can a fictional character kill a real person... – Oliver began, but hesitated at the last word. – Wait, if she's not real either...
–Exactly! Of course, any being from a higher Narrative layer sees all the layers below its layer as fiction, and such beings are truly transcendent to those below... however, that doesn't mean they are unreachable. Of course, such a thing is impossible for you, but here I am... I can create the conditions under which a character from a lower layer can ascend to the layers of Narrative above, becoming "real" to them. And then... even the author will fall.
After his last words, lightning flashed and thunder rumbled in the sky, though there were no clouds at all. It must have happened for extra drama and to add pathos to the last sentence. Judging by the renewed enthusiasm in the eyes of Oliver and Beatrice, Kai succeeded.
–Well, then let's not waste any time... – Oliver started to say, getting up from his chair, but Kai interrupted him.
–And where do you think you're going? – After Kai's words, Oliver was pulled back to the chair by incredible gravity, forcing him to return to his seat. –I'm not finished. You asked me to explain it, so you'll sit there until I finish that exposition dump. Especially since it, while not everything of it, will also matter. And so, let me continue. You both understand what a dimension is, right? – Beatrice nodded, and Oliver shrugged. – Alright. A dimension isn't some different space-time continuum, subspace or separate universe. A dimension is a spatial coordinate. For example, our world is three-dimensional, which means that objects here can only move along three coordinates and can only have volume in width, length, and height. Now let's take a two-dimensional object. Such objects will be infinitely small for us, because in three-dimensional space they have no volume. Also, they would have no effect on us, because they would have no mass. Well, there's a lot of other things, such as three-dimensional objects may be omnipresent in two-dimensional world, but it's not that important. So let's say you're fighting an opponent who lives in a higher dimensional reality. Would you win?
–Well, I was able to pull the Necronomicon down here, wasn't I? – Oliver said, scratching his head.
–Yes..... With a just too many conventions. And now for something even Beatrice doesn't know. Different worlds with different numbers of dimensions can exist on the same Narrative Layer... however, even the world with the smallest number of dimensions in the Narrative Layer above will have at least one, and at most infinity more dimensions, than the world with the highest number of dimensions in the Narrative Layer below. Well, in the multiverse of our Narrative layer, the world with the highest number of dimensions... has 18 dimensions. Therefore, the world Gerda lives in, because it's on a higher Narrative Layer, has at least 19 dimensions, or maybe even immeasurably more. How are you going to fight her there, huh?
–Eh... my head is spinning... so, wait, you said that the number of layers is so large that it goes beyond all mathematical constructs, rational, imaginary, and cardinal... then that means the number of dimensions on way higher Narrative layers would be...
–Yeah. Absolute infinity multiplied by aleph-999 to the degree of inaccessible cardinal would not represent even the tiniest fraction of that number. After all, it lies beyond what can even be imagined. And even above something like that, there is always something higher... now just think about it: all of this is just an inconsequential part of what is called The Sueno Finito. It's scary to even think about it, isn't it? Haha... yeah, I am afraid of it, too.
–Yes, it's creepy... at the very least, it makes me dizzy when I try to think about it... but it doesn't matter. I just have a few more questions.
–I'm all ears.
–Where I was before... is this some sort of alternative universe? After all, no one knew me there, and there was someone there in my place and...
–Yes. It was an alternate version of your iteration's history.
–Then how was I able to summon the actual Necronomicon into this world and not the alternate version of it?
–Well, you imagined the original one, right? You wouldn't buy fake brand sneakers when the original ones are on display for that price, would you? Especially since that alternate universe was created by him.
–And the most important question... where is Cirael now...? my Cirael.
Kai chuckled slightly, after which he pointed his finger around himself.
–Everywhere... and nowhere at the same time. She is in the Sea of Unrealized Ideas. Fear not, she should awaken soon, along with the world from your iteration.
–I have no idea what that Sea is, but...thanks. I think that's it. Then why don't you tell us how we're gonna kill Gerda?
–Gerda? Well, well, Oliver, you also asked about the Sea of Ideas earlier, hehehe... what? You gotta be careful with your wishes, they might come true. Especially the wishes of knowledge, – Kai pointed to that board, which was now had this text "Topic 2: The Sea of Unrealized Ideas". – So, the Sea of Unrealized Ideas, or, as it is more often called, simply "The Sea of Ideas" or "The Sea" is a metaphysical pseudo-space that both has the smallest possible number of dimensions and surpasses their very concept. One would find themselves there when...
Before Kai could finish, however, the space itself began to crack. "Claaain!" came a man's shout of anger and despair. A spatial rift appeared next to Oliver, from which Kayen flew out with his arm out in front of him, grabbed Oliver by the throat and, together with Clain, disappeared into another spatial rift that appeared right in front of them. After that, both rifts disappeared. Kai, watching this, only closed his eyes and waved his hand at them with a smile.
–Well, this was already starting to get a little boring. Bye-bye! – Kai said as Oliver and Kayen disappeared.
–And you... just won't do anything! – Beatrice asked, shouting.
–Why would I? If he can't deal with Kayen, he can't do anything to Gerda. But you... you can help him, him if you want to.
–How am I supposed to go after them?!
–That way... except I can't promise that it will lead you straight to them. Additionally, it is not what I meant... you know what I mean, when I said "you can help him", Beatrice.
Beatrice trembled for a second. Kai snapped his fingers and a portal appeared next to him and Beatrice. Without a second thought, the winged one stepped through it.
~*~
Kayen threw Oliver down onto the stone ground. By inertia, Clain "slid" down the rock for a distance, his skin and clothes peeling off. The skin, of course, healed practically instantly, but the clothes did not. Oliver created a sword in his hand and stood in a defensive stance.
–What do you want from me? – Oliver asked.
–You... you shouldn't exist! Gerda, my queen, my goddess, wished to erase this story and start over...but why do you still exist!!!!! – Kayen was literally torn with anger, and you could feel it in his voice.
–"Queen?" "Goddess"? So you're a standard streamer fan? So, what's your paid subscription level? – Clain commented sarcastically.
–You wouldn't understand... none of you can fully comprehend it! That feeling of being attached to something you should hate... but the plot is stronger than my feelings and common sense!
–I don't see any common sense in your wor...
Oliver parried Kayen's lunge, when the former Clain created a sword in his hand and attacked. As soon as Kayen's lunge was parried and he lost his balance, Oliver created a couple dozen swords, surrounding Kayen with them like a dome. They all converged on the center... and surprisingly, they hit. Kayen's body was pierced by the blades, making him look like a hedgehog. Oliver teleported back a few meters and, just to be sure, used telekinesis to make the swords fly in different directions, tearing Kayen into small pieces. However, that didn't happen – despite his wounds, Kayen clenched his fist and all the blades Oliver had created disappeared. They weren't dispelled by antimagic or anything like that, Oliver could feel it. They were erased from existence. Not even that... they were erased from the Narrative itself, making all the wounds Kayen had received from them healed as if they had never existed... because now they didn't.
–You... you will pay! You're in my world now! You will die, and then the iterations can continue! – Kayen said, and with a wave of his hand, disappeared.
It was only now that Oliver could look around enough. Instead of earth, there was solid stone. Also around were the ruins of some buildings... in which Oliver recognized the houses of the capital of Arai. There were traces of dried blood on the ground and in the ruins, but no bodies. Whatever happened here must have happened a long time ago.
–Necronomicon, scan! – said Oliver.
–What I am to you, some scanning skillet from the isekai novels? – Necronomicon replied, appearing next to Clain. – But the situation we're really isn't good. I'd even say, "we're screwed." This is the universe that Kayen created and... apparently it's an alternate universe to your iteration... you could say it's a Kayen fanfic about your story. I've done that sort of thing myself, so I do know a thing or two about it. And it must be that in this fanfic, the local versions of Oliver and Cirael failed and didn't save the world... from whatever it was they were supposed to save it from.
–So, thanks, but more importantly, how do I get out of here...? no. How do I find Kayen? I don't think he should... – Oliver swallowed, – I don't think he should be left alive.
–Oh, look how you're talking now. Well, it's for the best. Sooner or later you'd have to realize that your destructive powers are... far from the 'curse' you always thought they were. Well. How do you find him? That's a great goddamn question!
–Will there be a great goddamn answer?
–No, there ain't gonna be a great goddamn answer. Of course, I'm more powerful than Kayen, because I can create more worlds, have more control over them, and climb into higher dimensions... or rather, I used to be more powerful. And now I'm a soul without a body, wandering all alone... well, not wandering, and not very alone either... You get me. Anyways, I can't do much about the world around me right now. All I can do is give you more protection from the Narrative. And trust me, you're gonna need it.
–So right now, you're useless?
–Uh-huh. So I'm free to go?
–Yeah. I'll figure it out on my own.
–Great. Then I'll go back to watching TV series.
With a wave of his hand, the vision of Necronomicon vanished, and Oliver sighed. "Well, last time I met him in that abandoned castle, maybe now...", Oliver thought, then, more or less realizing what part of the Arai capital he was in, he instantly teleported to the coordinates where he had met Kayen in his... but no. There was only debris and craters there, just like in the universe Oliver was already familiar with after his uncontrollable Turbulence. Speaking of which, Oliver could feel the presence of the so familiar energy of hate in the air... as if Oliver's fight with Kayen had happened here just a few minutes ago... no, as if Oliver was in Turbulence mode right now... or was it not Oliver?
–Are you looking for something?
Even though there was no one around, a voice came out. It was another familiar voice to Clain. It was definitely Sean Brown. Someone Oliver certainly didn't want to hear again, much less see. Clain didn't look back – he sensed where Sean was at once. The former surgeon was standing with a sad expression near a particularly large piece of wall rubble, tossing a knife – not a scalpel – into the air and catching it. Turning in his direction, Oliver frowned and produced a sword, which he gripped with his right hand.
–Yes. I'm looking for something. But I found something I was not looking for... but I don't mind. Tell me, what was the reason? – Oliver gripped the hilt of his sword tighter. – Was it really just jealousy? Were you willing to kill people who considered you a friend, simply because you wanted power? Maybe you should touch some grass and have a normal relationship. You know, get some bitches or something...
–Pfft. You may say I have no bitches... – replied Sean, having already learned from his experience from the future how to respond to such statements, – but where are yours?! You had almost two, but now I don't see them!
–I hope you realize that you are literally the reason why I am now without Ciel and temporarily without Cirael. After all, Gerda decided to start the story all over again almost immediately after your betrayal.
Surprisingly, Sean replied without being sarcastic. He lowered his head and pressed his lips together for a few seconds. Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, the artificial creature of hatred raised his head, opened his eyes, then replied:
–I understand. And it makes me sad. I am truly sorry for what happened back then... however, I know that it is not enough. Apologies and sympathies don't bring back the dead, so I'm not going to say trite things. I'd rather answer your question. Of course I was jealous of you. But that wasn't the reason. You see... you're a Clain.
–Well... yeah. Thanks, Captain Obvious.
–Well, the thing is, Clain's friend... always dies in the course of the story. In every iteration. It's a rule that Gerda herself must have made. And I... I didn't want to die, Oliver. You see, it was written in me that I was your friend, and so I couldn't just give up helping and traveling with you – that's what the writer decided for me. So I was left with only one option – to become that overused trope of "traitor who wishes power"... although, "the protagonist's friend dies" is also a very overused trope.
–So you... you killed Ciel just so you wouldn't have to die yourself?!
–Don't take words from my mouth that I didn't say. When I injected the Hate, I went insane and out of control. Yes, I spoke intelligibly, but it was as if my thoughts were obeying natural instincts. And those instincts were screaming "kill."
–That's not an excuse, Sean.
–I'm not trying to make excuses. I told you before, I'm not asking for forgiveness – what I did is beyond what can be forgiven... tell me, Oliver, do you know who a Gehessikait is?
–Gehe... who?
–It's the Uncreature of Hate. The one who made you who you are. He is the living concept of that emotion. After you died, Gehessikait bound your soul back to your body, using that hate you felt for your father... and he only did it out of sadism – he was thinking it would be fun to watch you kill your family.
–"Was thinking"? And then what? Did he feel remorse or something?
–Haha... ironically, I asked him the same question. He answered me "No, that's was, indeed fun."
–Sick bastard...
–Tell me about it. Sometimes you get just awful guys to work with, huh?
Sean laughed a little, but Oliver didn't share his amusement. Clain pointed his sword at his former friend.
–Are you "working with him" now?
–Not that I have a choice. He's much stronger than me, and probably than you. All Gehessikait wants... is for you and me to fight a second and final time.
–So you're not going to ask for a truce?
–I don't expect us to be able to treat each other even neutrally... so go ahead. I know you want revenge... well, I'm not running. Go on, attack.
Finally catching the knife once again, Sean didn't bother to flip it anymore. Oliver hesitated – even though he was incredibly angry at Sean, he still didn't want any unnecessary deaths. However, even if he didn't want to fight, his former friend owed it to Gehessikait to engage in this final battle. Clain closed his eyes. Against an opponent like Sean, eyesight would only get in the way. Oliver took a deep breath as he held his sword out to the side. Sean gripped the knife with a reverse grip.
–Can't escape from crossing fate! Fight! – Sean shouted.
Oliver lunged at Sean. Of course, the time it took Oliver to travel the distance between his original location and Sean's was much less than an attosecond, but because neither Clain nor Sean needed time to process the information, they could see each other's movements perfectly fine. During that almost instantaneous spurt, Oliver was engulfed in black flames, but that fire immediately dissipated, now bursting out of his back, creating the silhouette of black wings. But this time, Oliver had summoned this form himself and was in complete control of it. His eyes had turned completely black and a viscous black liquid was oozing out of them, while lines of dark energy began to swirl around his body.
Once in close proximity to Sean, Oliver swung his sword from bottom to top, intending to chop his opponent with a single diagonal strike. However, Sean parried the blow with his seemingly ordinary knife and pulled Oliver's sword upward, stopping time. When the flow of time was restored to normal, Oliver's right hand, which was holding the sword, fell down separately from his body, and Sean himself was behind Clain's back. He attempted a stabbing blow to Oliver's neck from behind, but a small dagger appeared in the path of that blow, which not only blocked the blow, but knocked the knife out of Sean's hands. Of course, exactly zero seconds later, the knife was already in his hands, and the former surgeon himself had changed his posture and location, now jumping on top of Oliver.
Such an attack turned out to be a stupid, one might even say suicidal, decision. While Sean was in the air, Oliver's swords surrounded him, creating a sphere around former surgeon. Each of them had a black flame on their blades, which meant that even if Sean stopped time, he would continue to fall, and when he touched that flame, which negated any magic, no matter how powerful, time would start again. Even if the former surgeon creates a platform beneath himself, at best he will sit in stopped time for an eternity. In theory, it's the perfect trap from which even a timelord like Sean can't escape. In practice, however...
As the swords were converging at the spot where Sean was, a black scythe appeared in his free hand, which he used to make a single swing, but it was enough. The force of the blow and the energy it emitted scattered the swords. Of course, in a normal situation, both the scythe and the energy would have disappeared when they touched Hate's black flames, but that was also Hate's magic – the only thing Hate couldn't dispel. After all, Hate could not be defeated by Hate.
Before the energy released by the swing of Sean's scythe reached Oliver, he had teleported several dozen kilometers away. Even at that distance, the ground shook as if in a terrible earthquake from the impact of that energy hitting the ground. That 'earthquake' made whatever remaining trees that surrounded Oliver fall down. With his current abilities, Oliver could continue fighting even a thousand kilometers away from the enemy, but it would waste a lot of energy. At the same time, his arm had already regenerated fully, though now there was no sleeve to cover it. And despite he found himself quite far away from Sean...
–Did you know that running away is cringe? – Sean was drawling the word 'cringe' on purpose, though he realized Oliver didn't know what it means. – On the other hand, dueling in close combat is the based.
–Big words from someone who tries his hardest to avoid any kind of attack. Haven't tried at least one... – Oliver said, turning around, – ...to take a face-to-face?!
As he turned around, he punched the air with his fist toward Sean. Black energy snapped from his hand and even though time itself was successfully stopped at the same moment, the Hate energy continued on its way and caught up with his former friend. Sean was thrown far away and seemingly broke every bone in his body. But now he's just like Oliver – even fatal wounds, severed limbs, or brain injuries will regenerate in a matter of moments.
Although Sean had just flown away and was badly wounded, after another time stop, holding the scythe in his hand, he was already flying at Oliver and almost cut his opponent in half, but a sword that appeared in the path of the horizontal strike blocked the scythe. Then Sean let go of the scythe and went into close combat, using only his knife, even without stopping time. Even though he was already moving at several times the speed of light, Oliver was easily on par with him when it came to speed, and certainly stronger in terms of brute force... so Sean sped himself up in time. All the swords that Oliver would create would not catch up with Sean anymore, so Clain created a blade, which he took up again with his right hand and began blocking slashing and stabbing attacks from his former friend's knife, stepping back every now and then. He had to dodge as well – sometimes Oliver missed some blows that could only indirectly catch his skin because of his dodges. Such cuts were immediately healed.
Finally tired of being on the defensive, Oliver stomped the ground with all his might. The force of the impact made the ground shake and crack open. There was an explosion created by a black flame underground, causing the fire-like energy of Hate to engulf the forest surrounding the ruins. The wood and grass were sizzling with black fire, but they were not burned. The explosion underground threw both Oliver and Sean high into the air, but it didn't stop them from continuing the fight.
Oliver and Sean created energy platforms behind their backs and simultaneously pushed off from them and flew towards each other. They did it right in time, because after it, the whole forest was so saturated with Hate that it was impossible for either of them to use any magic other than controlling this black energy, so they couldn't create platforms in the air anymore. Sean couldn't stop time, and Oliver couldn't teleport. The result of this was in plain sight – after the two rushed towards each other and made stabbing attacks, both of their attacks reached their target. Sean's knife was sticking out of Oliver's chest, and Oliver's sword had slashed through Sean's body. Ignoring this, they ripped their weapons from each other's bodies and flew to the ground, pushing away from each other.
Landing a few kilometers away from each other, they raced toward each other through the trees and almost immediately came face to face again. As Oliver made a sweeping horizontal strike on the run, Sean ducked, sliding under the blade passing over his head, and not only did he knock Oliver's sword out of his hand, but in that fleeting moment he delivered a hundred stabbing blows to Oliver's lower half, then plunged the knife into Clain's knee. But Sean himself didn't walk away in one piece – feeling no pain, Oliver kicked Sean into his stomach with the same knee that now had the knife sticking out of it. Sean flew very far away from that kick, and Oliver himself pulled the sharp object out of his leg. Despite the grievous injuries that had been inflicted on him, they all healed faster than Oliver could blink. Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said for his clothes, so he was almost naked, considering how badly the fabric had been cut.
When Sean returned, holding a freshly created scythe of black liquid in his hand, he caught a horribly familiar sight – a black sword sticking straight through Oliver's chest. And with much dark blood spilling, Clain pulled it sharply out of himself. When he did, the black flame ceased to be just a decoration in the form of wings, and covered his entire body, leaving only his head. This flame apparently served as Oliver's clothing now. Not only that, though – even if Sean could use all of his abilities in this environment, now covered in black flames, Oliver would be able to move even in stopped time. If Sean tried to slow Oliver down, it wouldn't work now. With Clain covered in this energy, nothing supernatural would hold back him. Oliver pointed the blade at Sean.
–Sean, as you could see for yourself, you can't kill me... but I have enough influence over the Narrative and if I will fatally injure you again, I will twist the logic and you will die. Surrender. If you continue the fight, I will have to end you once and for all.
–Yes, you're probably right, I can't kill you... but that doesn't mean I won't try to!
Rushing toward Oliver, Sean didn't wait for Clain to strike. Instead, taking advantage of the length of his weapon, he began to deliver chopping blows from all sides, forcing his former friend to stand in a defensive stance. However, it didn't last long like that. After blocking what seemed like the thousandth consecutive blow, Clain was finally able to throw back the scythe, causing Sean to lose his balance. At least it seemed that way – Sean wanted it to seem that way, because as soon as Oliver moved into a stabbing lunge stance, his opponent lurched sideways, moving closer to Oliver himself. Oliver's right hand went forward, making a piercing attack with his sword, and to his right side was Sean. It would be problematic to reach him with his left hand. The only chance Oliver had was to swing his arm to the right and elbow strike him.
But that didn't work, either – Sean twisted around and ducked under the attack again, delivering a horizontal strike, holding the scythe by the shaft almost at the blade. The blow sliced Oliver clean in half. But that wasn't enough for Sean, because as the upper half of Clain's body was falling, Sean began to cut it while it falls. Oliver's body was chopped up down to the atomic level... no, to the level of an atom's components! Down to his protons and neutrons. Finally, satisfied with his accomplishment, Sean took a couple steps forward and assumed a pompous pose, holding the scythe with his straight arm parallel to that arm, blade down.
–Didn't I tell you earlier...? You can't kill me.
Not even a millisecond later, Oliver, alive, was already standing where before there had been only bits of molecules. After all, even from such a state he could regenerate. Anyone else would have been horrified by such survivability, but not Sean. On the contrary, he turned around and grinned.
–Good! You're never the one to disappoint, Oliver. Well... round 2?