Chapter 218: And the World Stood Still
Chapter 218: And the World Stood Still
Doctor lashed out once more, but the attack was avoided. Not by the skin of Prota’s teeth, but with ease. The tendril didn’t even come close to connecting.
“What- how did you do that?” Doctor cried out.
“Did you think that would keep working? Man, you’re stupid.”
Strangely, it was clearly Anta who was speaking. Despite the fact that the soul and body held the same voice, the tone and attitude were so clearly different that differentiating the two was clear as day.
“Who- you’re not Subject Zero! Who are you?”
“To you? Death.”
Prota wasn’t moving her body, yet she could feel every movement vividly. The explosive power in her legs, the fluid motion of her arms, the twisting of bones and muscle as she dodged each attack with ease. Even though she wasn’t doing it herself, she found herself taking in every little detail of the battle, the path each tendril would take, the gaps in Doctor’s final flail.
Then, the feeling of fist connecting with face, a solid blow smashing into Doctor’s mushy, fleshy existence. Despite her hatred of physical contact, a sense of satisfaction welled up at the same time.
“Prota!” she heard Anta yell.
Right. As Anta leapt back, the swarm of Blossoms flew forward, smashing into Doctor and momentarily freezing him solid. When the ice shattered, Doctor shattered alongside with it, forcing his blobs to reform once more. Still, they managed to reconvene incredibly fast this time, not giving any window to follow up.
“You… you…”
With frightening speed, he dashed forward, but Anta was ready. She easily deflected each and every blow with her bare hands, fighting in a manner Prota had never even dreamed of. It was such an odd feeling. She could feel the intent, the direction of every single blow, yet wasn’t in control of such movements at the same time. Then, however, she could perfectly time her spells in sync with the physical attacks, creating a synergy never seen before.
It was reminiscent of fighting alongside John. Having someone to distract the enemy while more powerful spells could be prepared. This time, though, there was no John. No second individual to take on the enemy’s hits.
She was playing both roles at the same time.
Block. Jab. Duck, swing, kick, repeat.
Icicle. Fireball. Frozen Cannon. Dragon of Fire.
Not one after another, but simultaneously.
There was no more worrying about the rhythm between moving and casting. No more concern about playing offense and defense.
No, both could be done at the same time in what could only be called a symphony of battle.
With each step. Each blow. Each block. Every thought, the will and drive behind every action, they were slowly merging. Prota found that her movements were no longer Anta’s. Her body was no longer being piloted. She herself was attacking without knowing how she was doing it. At the same time, she could feel that her spells were being cast without knowing why.
The two souls were becoming one.
There was no longer a need to react to the other’s actions. It wasn’t just a synergy.
It was simply one person with the incredible prowess of all fields.
“I didn’t create you to be a fighter!” Doctor screeched. “How are you doing that?”
“Nn. You’re just really stupid, aren’t you?”
“Back- back off! I am a god! Do you even understand-”
“Shut up.”
Prota’s words were short, yet they carried emotion nonetheless. Her message was brief, yet the intent was there.
The beatdown continued. Blow after blow, spell after spell, they fought on. Exhaustion was slowly building up, but that was nothing compared to the rage running through their veins.
This time, revenge wouldn’t just be something that someone else took for them. It wouldn’t be forced, nor would it be something that just naturally happened because of the circumstances surrounding them.
Every action they took would be of their own will.
“Glacier.”
An icicle the size of a boulder appeared, its tip deadly sharp. With a crash, it drove into the ground, digging a pit a solid six feet deep. Black goop wriggled up the sides, reforming to reveal a panicked Doctor.
“W-wait! Hold on! Why… why are you interfering? You shouldn’t even know who I am! How- you don’t have the power of prophecy! How do you even know everything that’s going on?”
Prota stopped for a moment, looking down on Doctor. Now that he was in this state, he looked incredibly pathetic. Gone was the image of this powerful, unbreachable threat that could only be dealt with after hundreds if not thousands of [Resets].
He was just another annoyance.
Just another [Character].
“...this is my second life.”
Silence.
“You tried to kill me. You did kill me. You made everything miserable. And in the end, I didn’t get to do anything. So this time… no regrets. No more being weak.”
There was another moment of silence. Then, suddenly, Doctor began to laugh. He picked himself up, forming himself back into a human-like shape. Prota watched carefully, not daring to make a move.
Something felt different.
“Ah… I see. So my plans were fruitful. You’re no prophet. Just a… well, a regressor is fascinating, I must admit. But if I killed you once…”
His hands turned back into blobs, then sharpened into blades, razor thin.
“That means it’s possible. Which means I never lost control.”
He blinked forward, so fast Prota couldn’t keep track of his movements. In an instant, he managed to close the distance between them, barely missing Prota’s neck with his arms.
“Wha- what happened?” Prota gasped.
Suddenly, she felt much weaker. Not in the sense that she’d lost physical strength or mana, but more in the sense that she’d lost her sense of unity with Anta.
“That guy confused you,” Anta muttered. “He’s saying something I understand, but you don’t, and so we split. Great, just when we were getting in the hang of things.”
“...what now?”
“We keep going. I can still pilot the body while you cast. I’m feeling fine, but if mana reinforcement starts running low… the staff only has about a quarter of the mana left, too.”
That was true. With the number of spells Prota had cast, it was surprising the staff wasn’t empty at all. In her past life, even with this core, she would have fainted by now. It was only because she could focus purely on casting that she was still conscious.
Effectively, there were now two minds working on this fight. Thus, there was twice as much mental stamina. It was simple.
But it was also absolutely necessary.
Suddenly, the fight had turned around. Instead of being on the offensive, every bit of the twins’ powers were being used to survive. What Anta couldn’t dodge, Prota would block. If Anta needed a boost, Prota would provide it. If Prota couldn’t react in time, Anta would be able to maneuver herself into a safer position.
But that synchronization from before couldn’t be reached.
“Why is he so strong?” Prota panted, the words coming out of her mouth.
“Control. His power is control,” Anta said through grit teeth, also speaking out loud. “He was losing because our new power was based on [DEM]. He didn’t understand it. But once he understood that there was a world in which he could win, being in control of our powers was no longer a concern to him.”
“...what?”
“You don’t get it, do you?” Anta sighed. “It’s a conceptual power. It’s based on imagination. There’s no logic to it. This power… as long as you think something is possible, it becomes possible. In Doctor’s case, and our case as well, it’s a little more limited than that, but that’s still the basis of everything.”
“Control…”
“Oh, my god. You know what? We need to figure this out, or we’re not going to win. Do you remember your Dance of Ice spell?”
“Nn.”
“Do you remember how you came up with it?”
Prota thought for a second. She’d made it with mana, but that spell had been different.
“Hey, I still need you here!”
Snapping back into action, Prota formed a barrier of ice just in time, then made a platform for Anta to leap off of. She’d been presented with a task, but at the same time, she couldn’t afford to forget the fight altogether.
Her head felt like it was splitting open as she tried to focus on both tasks at once. It was a good thing she didn’t need to focus on moving, because that would’ve been too much altogether.
“I’m running out of mana here, Prota!” Anta yelled.
Block. Think. Block. Think. If she could just get a moment to think, just a moment of rest…
“How did you feel while dying? Think about that? Prota, remember! [DEM] isn’t about logic! Ignore everything you learned about mana!”
While dying.
Right.
Suddenly, something clicked.
It wasn’t simply a matter of ice. That spell had been the essence of cold itself. The feeling of resentment, of isolation, of pain…
A spell born from emotion.
“That’s [DEM]!” Anta exclaimed, sensing the click in Prota’s mind. “Do you get it? That’s the trigger!”
“...how does that help us, though?”
“It will. Because you’ll need to remember that soon.”
“What?”
“We need to sync up one more time. If we can do that, we’ll be able to land one good hit. With that… we need to take Doctor’s energy.”
“But-”
“Even with the mana, it’s enough. It’ll be enough for sure. But we need to be prepared. Got it?”
“Nn.”
“Good.”
Prota felt her vision clear up. Even through her fatigue, there was a new sense of energy flowing through her veins. It wasn’t like she’d received a powerup or a new energy source. It was merely the determination and resolve to win that was pushing her through.
This was John’s power.
The power of imagination. Not in a metaphorical sense. Not in a symbolic bit of bullshit.
It was the power of a god. Not the god Doctor claimed to be. Not the god Celeste was worshipped as.
But the power of the one who literally wrote the world according to their will.
This power was what John wielded, and it wasn’t even a fraction of what he could do. Prota had seen him overpower beings more threatening than Doctor. And that had been without [Deus Ex Machina].
So when he fought with his existence on the line… what would that look like?
She didn’t want to know.
All she knew was that if she couldn’t beat Doctor in a convincing manner, she wouldn’t even be able to hold a light next to John.
But she would win. She could see herself winning.
And ultimately, the power that resided in Doctor, in Sofya, in the Ninetails prince, in Celeste…
In John.
It resided within her, as well.
“Good, good! It should be like this!” Doctor gloated, unleashing a storm of tendrils. “Right, if you also wield that power, then you should be just enough of a threat!”
He was confident. Still too confident.
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That attitude sickened Prota to her core.
Taking a deep breath, they plunged in once more. Mana reinforcement was applied to the nervous system, slowing down time tenfold. With this, each and every movement could be calculated.
Block. Dodge. Parry. Block. Dodge. Parry.
Each action took them a step forward. Each attack was pushed away in order for them to move just a bit close.
The whole time, Prota was preparing a spell. It wasn’t a Dance of Ice. That spell took far too much mana.
But to kill Doctor… this might work.
With every step, she felt herself growing close to Anta. Questions no longer needed to be asked. Worries could be set aside. There was only one goal in both their minds, now. Only one destination to reach.
And that goal was ever so slowly getting closer.
Once again, that sense of unity filled Prota entirely. She no longer needed to think about what Anta was going to do; it was she who was doing it. A foreign feeling of doing something without knowing why, yet knowing it was what you wanted to do anyway.
“...you’re not supposed to be getting this close,” Doctor said slowly.
There was a hint of nervousness to his voice.
Prota continued to push on. Flashes of light lit up the storm of tendrils that blocked out the sun, surrounding her in complete darkness. Even still, with every spell, she was one step closer.
“You! I understand you now! You should’ve fallen into despair! You have something you cannot afford to lose! Then how are you doing this?!” Doctor screeched, his attack intensifying twofold.
“No. This time… nothing to lose,” Prota said, her voice ice cold. “Because I can’t lose.”
“What?!”
“I can’t lose. You can’t kill me.”
“I most certainly-”
“With my own hands. I. Will kill you.”
In an instant, she was right next to him, her spell complete.
A Blossom of Blossoms.
Each petal of the flower had dozens of tiny little flakes, a result of having compressed Blossoms into the petals of one final Blossom. Even in the darkness it shone, like a diamond sitting on a black satin cloth. Its beauty couldn’t be hidden, even by the violence flailing all around.
“Go.”
She pushed the spell directly into Doctor’s goop, and with so much of his mass having been expended to try and attack Prota, it went in rather easily. Immediately, she leapt back as not to get caught up in the aftermath.
And what an aftermath it was.
Doctor’s body was immediately shredded to goop as the spell exploded, dozens of petals scattering out in an instant. Then, instead of shattering, each hovered in the air for a moment, vibrating ever so slightly as Prota’s eyes shifted back and forth, tracking the movement of all the scattering blobs. Her mind felt like it was about to shatter under the weight of the task, but even if it did, that was fine.
This was it. Make or break.
She snapped her fingers, and the dozens of petals flew after the goops, homing in on any blob that seemed even somewhat sizable. At each point of contact, the petals shattered, exploding as a Blossom one more time, shredding Doctor to even smaller bits. Black liquid rained down all around her, sunlight suddenly streaming down on Prota.
“Ok.”
This was her one chance. Closing her eyes, she focused on the blobs all around her. They all held just a little bit of power. It was murky, just like before.
But there was also something incredibly familiar in there as well. A feeling she hadn’t been close to in over a year.
A feeling that had been inside the whole time.
In her Soul Steal vision, she reached out with her own tendrils, pulling at Doctor’s power. It resisted. She pulled harder. It resisted again, but its strength was drained.
“...you are mine.”
That wasn’t true. The power wasn’t hers. It was John’s.
But if anyone was going to hold onto it for him, it was her. And if she had to use it against him, then so be it.
Soul Steal. The ability to take anything and turn it into her own.
How was this any different?
“Come!”
Suddenly, bits and pieces of the power began to draw close. Slowly, they entered her core, almost hesitant to be taken in, but in the end, it wasn’t up to the power, anyway.
Mana didn’t listen to Prota. She forced it to obey her will.
This energy would be no different.
There was one more blinding flash of light as she took in the power. It was a little more than the power she’d gotten from Zero’s scarf. That didn’t matter. The power was insane. It was leagues beyond the feeling [Infinity] had given her.
With this, she felt as though she could accomplish anything.
And Anta had been right. She already knew what to do with the power.
Suddenly, from the woods came Destiny and Elfin, bloodied but alive. Even better, they seemed to have all their limbs intact.
“Prota!” Destiny exclaimed. “You’re all right!”
“Wha-”
There was another rustling noise as Bren rushed forward. He, too, was quite fatigued and injured, but he was also alive. Well, that made sense. He’d defeated a chimera on his own in his past life, too. That opponent was likely far easier.
Then, to complete the set, Albert and Breaker emerged, with the guildmaster carrying his friend.
“...is it over?” Albert said quietly.
Prota’s eyes widened.
“No-”
It was too late. Doctor had already reformed, his face half melted and twisted, but the rage was visible nonetheless.
“Did you think bringing your little friends would do you any good? That bringing my allies to betray me would mean anything? No! You’ve only doomed yourself! Prove it, girl. Prove you have nothing to lose!”
Suddenly, his tendrils shot out once more. Prota couldn’t even react. In an instant, everybody nearby was pierced through the head, not a sound uttered before they all fell over, the life from their bodies gone.
This wasn’t the time to mourn, though. Prota had to stay alert. And, there was still a chance for them. But if she wanted to save them, she’d have to win, first.
Her head whipped back to Doctor. He was able to kill them because he had control over them.
He did not have control over her.
“You… give that back! That’s not yours!”
“...then who does it belong to?”
That question alone made Doctor freeze in his tracks.
“What?”
“Who does it belong to?”
“Me, obviously-”
“No. Someone gave it to you. So who owns it? Not you. Right?”
Prota said it so calmly, in such a matter of fact way, that Doctor didn’t even have an answer. She was panicking inside, but she couldn’t let it show.
He just stood there, dumbfounded.
“You- you-”
An opportunity. Prota didn’t know if this spell would work. She didn’t even know if this was a proper application of [Deus Ex Machina].
But deep down, she had a feeling she knew the answer anyway.
Taking a deep breath, her red and blue eyes flashed.
“Everything Will Freeze.”
Cold. Scientifically, it is not a temperature. It is the absence of heat.
Heat, in a sense, is also not necessarily a temperature. It is the addition of energy, or more specifically, the transfer of energy.
At a molecular level, heat and cold are responsible for the movement of molecules. The term “Absolute Zero” refers to the temperature in which molecules have little, if no movement at all.
Then, in a sense, cold can be defined as a lack of motion.
To put it simply, everything stops.
Prota knew none of this. But she knew what cold was. Deep in her heart, she could internalize it perfectly.
Cold was death. The feeling of warmth leaving your body as life seeped out of your veins, blood leaking from your wounds. The feeling of a body long since dead, rigid and cool to the touch.
Prota had died many times. Others had died equally as many times.
Death was something Prota was familiar with.
Cold was loneliness. The feeling of having nobody by your side. The feeling that, no matter what you did, you would never truly have a partner. Cold was sleeping on the streets with nothing to cover you, with no one to stay by your side, no one to hand you scraps or treat you kindly. Cold was having to seal your heart off so it could never hurt again.
Prota had been alone. She’d been left to fend for herself, with not a single ally to defend her.
Loneliness was something Prota was familiar with.
Cold was the end. When everything froze, everything stopped. Nothing could move without her permission.
The world turned a blueish hinge as everything and everyone stopped moving. Not a breath of air. Not a decibel of sound.
She turned to look at the bodies of her allies and former friends. She could see the life leaving their bodies. It was hard to describe, but she understood that they had undergone the process of death.
“...stop.”
The process of death stopped. Such a thing made no sense.
But logic was no longer a factor.
“Wound. Stop.”
The wounds covered themselves up.
“...I see.”
This frozen world was her domain. Nothing could move without her permission. Nothing could happen without her will. The planet had stopped spinning. The orbit of the moon and stars had frozen. The whole universe would not move without her allowing it to.
Walking up to Doctor, she stared at his still expression. Even though she’d been fighting for quite some time now, she could never get used to that hateful expression.
Closing her eyes, she absorbed the rest of his [Deus Ex Machina] energy. It took a while.
But there was an infinite amount of time laid out before her.
She took her time. Resting up. Recovering her stamina. Once the [Deus Ex Machina] was drained from Doctor, Anta suddenly popped out. Prota hadn’t even noticed that the soul had separated her consciousness.
“Wow,” Anta whistled, looking around. “Neat power.”
“...nn.”
“Alright. We got what we came here for. But that’s not enough, right?”
“Nn.”
“Let’s just check…”
Anta pulled out Zero’s scarf, which was now a few strands longer than it’d been before. Their goal had been accomplished. They now had more [Deus Ex Machina] than they’d started with.
“Alright. Go nuts.”
Prota waved her hand over Doctor, unfreezing his head, and only his head. He immediately began speaking once more as if time had never stopped.
“That’s not yours! You-”
He quickly caught on to his surroundings.
“...what? Why can’t I move- what’s going on here?”
For the first time, there was fear in his eyes. He looked up at Prota, suddenly realizing that there might be things far greater than him.
“Where are my powers? What did you do?!”
“...took them.”
“That- I didn’t create you to be able to do that! Just what are you?”
There was a long moment of silence. Not a single sound could be heard.
Then, ever so softly, Prota opened her mouth.
“...Prota.”
“I know your name, you-”
“I am Prota. That is all.”
She waved her hand again, freezing his ability to talk. She kept his head conscious, though.
She wanted him to know what was coming.
For a second, she considered recreating John’s gun. She’d done so before. But what was the point in that? If she was going to be herself, then there was no need for her to copy her brother.
But what did she want?
“You… don’t need anything signature,” Anta said silently. “It’s a little silly, but… John doesn’t do it because it’s a signature thing. He just does it because it’s what he has. So do what you want to do.”
Prota nodded. What she wanted to do…
What was the point of all this? Of all this effort? Of all this struggle?
A promise. She’d made a promise.
To protect.
In a sense, Prota saw herself as John’s knight. And to Prota, a knight should have a sword and shield.
But the shield was not needed at the moment.
No. The task at hand required the sword.
She reached out, her fingertips stretching toward the sun. Frost began to gather in her hand, forming a grip. Slowly, she grasped it firmly, watching the rest of the blade slowly grow.
It was a simple weapon. A straight blade, with a single edge, nothing fancy or decorative. But it was pure. Crystal clear. Somehow, light wasn’t even warped as it passed through.
As if the ice itself didn’t exist.
Its weight was nonexistent, yet incredibly heavy at the same time. Strength wasn’t a factor, but she felt as though bringing it down would cleave the world in half. She swung it once. Twice. There was a faint swishing sound as it sliced through the air perfectly. Not an ounce of resistance could be felt.
The weapon shone in the frozen sunlight. Such a thing shouldn’t have been possible, seeing as the world was frozen, but then again, physics were no longer applicable.
No logic was applicable.
Prota reached out with her other hand, grabbing the weapon and raising it high above her head.
“Wait. Wait, wait, I can’t die like this!” Doctor screeched.
There was fear in his eyes, now. Desperation. Panic. The man who had once been so confident was now crumbling the instant a guaranteed victory was no longer before him.
“Hold on. Wait. Just- don’t kill me. I can’t die. You’re not allowed. I am the Doctor! You can’t- who are you to do this to me? You insignificant worm! You bug! Who do you think you are?!”
Prota looked down, her glare piercing through her monotone expression. Anta had left, leaving nothing but her cold blue eyes to pierce through Doctor’s fading soul.
“I am Prota Char.”
The weapon was raised high, shining brilliantly.
A sword to pierce the heavens.
“I am… a protector.”
A protector. Someone who protects.
To protect those she loved…
She would have to go against anomalies. Dragons. Gods.
Her creator.
Beings beyond comprehension. Beings someone like she was never meant to touch, let alone fight.
But she would reach. Reach for the stars. Reach for the heavens.
Reach beyond.
“You… do not deserve to exist.”
Those were the last words Doctor would ever hear.
The blade came crashing down.