*One more chapter freshy baked for you all, my dear readers. So, we're making steady progress. I'm trying to cut swiftly through a large part of what seemed to be 'filler' (useless actions to keep the story quest going for longer) and go for the sweet point in the story. Hope you'll enjoy, and have fun. Peace out and Deus vult.*
She tightened the string just a bit, enough for Mark to feel the need to tip-toe to move along.
"Look at you," she whispered in his ear, her voice tantalizing, dripping with honey. "Caught up in my web, like an insect ready to be preyed upon."
Mark chuckled, standing completely still, focusing on the energy inside of him. He didn't know if it would work, but it was worth a shot.
"Heh, Kafka, the famous Stellaron Hunter. To what should I attribute your visit here on the Xianzhou?"
His nose bled out, but he didn't dare reach up to wipe it.
"Is it Destiny's Slave that led you to this point?"
She chuckled, the sound a sensual hum in Mark's fuzzy ears. It was slowly driving him insane, reminding him of that Spirit Whisper of hers. In the end, one wrong mistake might cause him to slip up and die. His heart was running twice as fast as usual, but he tried to not let it show.
"Hmm, once again, you seem to know your facts well, stranger. What's your name, Nameless?"
Mark chuckled, the irony of her words, said so sexily in his ear, was something he couldn't help but jab at.
"Asking a Nameless for a name is kinda ironic, don't you think?"
The strings didn't tighten around his neck, but he could feel her breath right up against the side of his face.
"You sure love acting witty, don't you? Just be careful, not everyone appreciates the value of a sharp tongue used well. But yes, I'm asking for a name."
Mark smiled a bit, taking that as a little sign of something that could aid him.
"Name's Mark, the guy who likes to leave a 'mark' in the lives of others, a good 'mark'... but I guess Elio can't see that Mark in his future."
He smirked, thinking himself pretty smart for figuring out that one tiny detail despite his predicament. She had asked for his name, meaning two things: Elio's ability didn't catch details, which he thought unlikely, or his ability didn't notice him at all. Knowing his background as someone introduced into the world from a different one, he could think it a reality.
Kafka laughed softly, the sound barely above a whisper.
"It would help to keep that curious part of you hidden, my dear Mark. The last thing you want is someone understanding the danger words like that carry and deciding to..."
She tightened the string just a bit, drawing a drop of blood from Mark's neck. Funnily enough, she didn't question the one from his nose, probably thinking it a normal issue.
"Do go on and explain yourself. I'll offer you one chance, since you came alone after me."
Mark chuckled, trying to act unbothered, yet the cards were stacked against him. He was up against a cunning Stellaron Hunter with abilities that allowed her to manipulate others, lacking the whole concept of fear thanks to her background.
"Well, in that case, allow me to say something... I'm not a foe. Consider me more of a... rival... someone stuck in this game of chess that Elio tries to hold against fate. Where fate in this world is nothing but a large amount of set results and actions that lead there, I tend to believe I'm not part of that. That's what the Stellaron Hunters aim for, right? The 'best' possible ending. Best for who? I don't know."
She listened intently, not showing her face as she stood behind him, still guiding their game along like the arbiter. She held his life on a string, and he was aware of his position.
"It's nice to know we have at least one person on the Astral Express who doesn't think too lowly of us."
She didn't undo the string at all, which did bother Mark since his body was starting to get a bit sore from trying to keep perfect balance.
"You wished to know if Elio sees you, right? What do we get in turn for that information?"
He thought about it for a moment, the answer dancing on his lips. It was all a dangerous game of chess that held only them both in place. He could only go for a gambit, expecting Kafka to bite.
"If he can't see me, it means I should be able to interfere even with the points in the future that can't be changed no matter what. I have a feeling that is what Stelle is."
His head felt light, and his nose bled out more, but he could pry out a bit of information that dimly moved through his mind—a mere mention of his own thoughts from when he was playing the game. The mission was foggy, but that information was clear now.
Kafka regarded him with a strange look, finally understanding that there's more to his bleeding than a random wound or condition.
"Stelle herself can deny fate, right? That's your plan, or at least what I think it is. You tried to manually create a variable for the very universe, and now there's another: me..."
His words were interesting, even for her, but she betrayed no hint of emotion. Was his theory right or wrong? He didn't know, but he did say what was on his mind, hoping it would suffice.
"What an interesting theory you have. I'm starting to wonder where you came from since you appeared on the Express after their visit to Jarilo-VI, yet I doubt someone with your knowledge came from a world that was isolated for so long."
Her instinct was right on, her logic perfect for the issue. Still, Mark waited patiently, feeling as though his little plan from earlier was slowly coming to fruition.
"So, not going to untie me, Kafka? Not even if I ask nicely?"
She shook her head, chuckling softly behind him, barely visible in the corner of his eye.
"Sorry, but it's not happening. You're ahead of schedule, so I think you'll have to wait for the rest of the crew to arrive here. You sure love surprising people."
He laughed out, having her not realize how true it was.
"Oh, you're right on the money. There's a reason I dared call myself your rival. I too like being a pain in the butt that comes at random times."
The string broke around his neck, cut by a thin fragment of ice that he kept growing subtly using his powers. His ice control was weak, but just enough to cut away at the thread. Instantly, he used whatever energy he could gather to boost his body, dropping down for the metal pipe. His vision was improving slightly, allowing him to notice the light dancing along each string she had set up. His pipe clashed through them, managing to pull them away and tangle them up.
"My, so you do have some bite in you," she said calmly, her voice carrying the same sensuality as before. It was driving him crazy, but he reminded himself of Himeko's smile. Instantly, he was ready to do battle, no matter who it was before him or how good Kafka looked.
"Are you sure you want to hurt me? I think you'd rather lend me a hand by my side, right?"
Instantly, his body felt the urge to stop and walk up to her. From the side, his metal pipe smacked him in the head, his own subconscious reminding him of her abilities.
"Damned Spirit Whisper you got... trying to seduce me with words? Not gonna happen."
Seeing as that didn't work, she reached in her jacket, taking out the two guns she so loved.
"I guess it's time to change the strategy, right, dear?"
His eyes widened as he gulped.
"I'm fucked."
He ran away at full speed, hiding behind a crate as a hail of bullets came following him. He was nowhere near fast enough to keep up with them like the others had done in the game. In that moment, the thoughts about his inability resurfaced, reminding him of his own weakness.
"No, it's not the time for that. I should focus."
As the gunshots kept echoing in the empty area, Mark heard some footsteps approaching—more than one person coming in. He smiled, knowing that it was none other than the Express crew.
"Talk about good timing, yall!" he shouted as he peeked out from behind the crate, only to tuck his head back in as the bullets came flying his way. Suddenly, he recalled her style of using the guns, both of them at once. However, as far as he knew, using two was sort of impossible, but in the end, it wasn't the real world, so gambling on that would end up with him as Swiss cheese.
"No worries, Mark, we came to the rescue," chuckled March, her arrows already flying at Kafka with precision. Somehow, her bullets met the arrows head-on, leaving Mark astonished, petrified at such precision.
"Boy, how come I'm alive? God, thanks."
He looked mortified, but soon realized one more thing: she was just playing with them, toying around, trying to stall for time. Knowing that, he chose to place a little bet and gamble his odds. Without warning, he slid out like he saw it in videogames, dashing ahead while trying to slide-cancel in real life, his movements sporadic, powered by the foreign Stellarons within him.
Kafka's gaze quickly darted at him, her smile subtle.
"You're serious about being my rival, are you?"
Mark chuckled, swinging his metal pipe at her, trying to at least get one hit in. He brought it in from any possible angle he could, swinging it in any way that came to mind: from above, below, diagonally, grab it by the middle, and swing both ends one after the other. None of the hits landed, her movements graceful and precise. He smiled, both because it was a good test but also to try and cover the ill feelings that gripped at him.
"Not even one hit, huh? Damn, I'm far behind them."
Still, he tried to keep his heart and go on with it, waiting for the right moment. In a flash, she was surrounded, her guns in her hands. Without thinking twice, the script went as Mark knew, with her pointing them up and firing away as Fu Xuan came to catch her. To Mark's suffering, even the tiny lay dressed in pink could match the speed of bullets, moving them away from her path.
"Damn it...is everyone so damn strong in here?"
Kafka gave up, allowing herself to be caught. In a heartbeat, tens of Cloud Knights came in to apprehend her. Mark sighed, waiting for Fu Xuan to go ahead with her fancy wording that left March and Stelle confused. He chuckled.
"Maybe you should use some simple language, Fu Xuan. It's not like we're some big shots that need those fancy words to feed their own ego. We got Kafka, you took her away, on to the questioning, no beating around the bush in here since we're all busy and the General threw you under the bus by allowing us to assist the questioning."
She looked at Mark, her gaze a bit too odd even for his usual antics. It's as if she was scanning some oddity, one she didn't expect to see.
"Don't tell me...Elio and her...am I really outside the fate of this world? If I'm a full-on outsider, then hell might break loose at some point in time."
She spoke calmly, trying to betray nothing.
"Very well. Follow me to the Divination Commission. It has the methods to make her talk and ensure that she's telling the truth."