Rioca's revelation shocked everyone. Revealing her true name as Lorelei was not the first lie, she's been lying from the very beginning. All of our failings, all of MY failings, the thousands of deaths over and over again.
It was all HER.
Remember, I am not the smartest. I am a fake detective. I study under people, and gain their abilities and skills.
I am not a master of deduction, but I deduce this without any further explanation.
Our memories have been tampered with since way before I met God here, and since Rioca has consistently gotten in our way every time we attempt to break free, I can only assume that it's her who is tampering with them.
Which makes her our enemy.
My head pulses, aching as if my brain is trying to break out of its skull cage.
I retract my hand, time staying halted, and I use this moment in frozen space to think about what the most humane thing to do would be.
The most humane…
My mind is taken back to Rioca's past and how tragedy can strike even the weakest of wills. I recall how horrible she was treated by the only people who could help her. I remember the abuse she suffered, between homelessness, pregnancy and the latter, all before she hit adolescence.
I glare deep into the eyes of my enemy.
My hand raises, and hammers down as my sword pierces her neck like a skewer.
She screams with as much of her throat as she can. Her skin and flesh hastily melts from her, leaving only a skeleton in a tattered red dress.
Deus shines his sunlight at her - or what's left of her - and her defence mechanism activates.
The shadow portrayed onto the wall behind the skeleton manifests eyes.
First, where eyes are supposed to go. Then, an infinite amount of eyes open all over it, as if attempting to portray a biblically realistic angel.
"RUN!!!" Raphael screams.
My body instinctively jumps back, as I consciously trip on my heel, slipping on the crimson pool at our feet, and scurry back to Deus and Raphael.
"How you feeling, nephew?" Deus asks, placing a hand on my shoulder.
"Could be better." I muster.
"God," Raphael begins, "what's the status of William, Ariel, Violet and Maryanne?"
We sit in silence for what feels like minutes. Mysterious liquid dropping from the ceiling tiles, making it all the more tense. As if it isn't tense enough as it is.
"… I can feel them." She speaks. "They are in a suspended space…"
"Can you elaborate?" Raphael interjects.
"… If you would let me finish." God retorts. "Our enemies have captured them, but for some reason, they have not executed them."
"Can you guide us to them?" Raphael nearly begs.
"Definitely." She finalises.
Shortly following, a droplet falls from the ceiling in front of us. It falls at a way slower speed from anything from this reality, and upon impact with the murky floor, creates a single illuminated butterfly. It hovers for a moment between all three of us, and proceeds down the same hallway in which we are blocked by Rioca's shadow. I begin to rise, the determination of my previous incarnations flowing through me. Raphael pulls me down as soon as he notices.
"Do you have a plan?" He insists.
"Slash slash, monster goes away." I respond, maintaining as much of myself as I can.
"It's good to see you still have a sense of humour." Raphael says, slightly smirking amongst tragedy. "If that thing is anything like what you've killed here, you need to get it out of the wall." He rationalises.
"Use my sunlight." Deus attempts to conclude.
"It's not as easy as that." Raphael interjects. "You saw what happened when you shone that on her skeleton. This is Rioca's personal shadow we're dealing with. You need to be tactful."
"How about two sunlights?" Deus amuses as he begins to create another sunlamp. Raphael sighs.
"Deus," Raphael starts, "I never ask too much of you, but I'm going to ask something I don't know if you can do."
"You want me to zip it?" Deus exclaims through partially gritted teeth.
"No… No! I actually need you to create something through explanation." Raphael ponders. "Is that something you can do?"
"It's something I can try."
"I need you to create a concentrated, controlled, black hole." Raphael simplifies, as if the whole sentence wasn't the ramblings of an insane man.
"No can do."
"Why?" Raphael argues, as if the request was as easy as spreading butter on toast.
"You're asking me to recreate every single calculation that exists to explain a black hole."
"No, I'm not. I'm asking you to create a black hole." Raphael continues. "The science, the stars collapsing in on themselves, the astral reactions, I need you to put all of your focus on creating that."
"I always knew you were insane, but now you're thinking stupid." Deus begins. "Firstly, if I do create one, we all die immediately. Not just us, the whole town. Secondly, even if I could somehow contain it, what material do I use for the container?"
"My friend?" Raphael interjects, placing his hand outstretched in front of me as if expecting something. I check my pockets as he keeps his hand out. I pat myself down to find not a single thing. Raphael sighs.
"The sword, you dolt." He snaps, taking it himself. "This. This is the container."
Deus takes a long look at it, ponders, takes ahold of it himself, and comes to a conclusion.
"Nephew," he starts, "I can't do this alone. N'it hurts to say this out loud, as a grown man, as your uncle and role model, but I need your help."
"What do I do?" I ask, eager to be a part of the process.
"It's what do we do." Raphael begins. "You somehow acquired Deus and Locke's abilities, which means you can amplify what Deus can do."
"You need us to both try and put a black hole in this sword?" Deus reiterates.
"Well, not alone." Raphael states as he faces me. "I'm going to allow you into my memories so you can find out the microscopic ins-and-outs of black holes. Then you're personally going to do the heavy lifting from there."
"I guess there's only so much I can do until the young'uns take the lead."
"In Layman's terms, yes." Raphael informs. "Are you ready?" He asks us.
We both nod. Raphael removes his blood-red glove that very well used to be a crystal clear white and holds it out for me, as Deus holds out his hand for me also. I grip both hands and focus. Firstly on Raphael's memories, which - upon freezing time entirely - purposefully directed me to a single day where he focused solely on black holes and how they work. His mind blocked me from observing anything more.
As I leave his memory, time remains paused. In front of us is my sword, now floating in the air as it creates the image of neutron stars colliding. The astral light show lasts for three minutes, the current length of time in which can be stopped at this moment. As time remains stationary, the walls are alight with illuminated stars that shine as brightly as the night sky. The stars linger and slowly drift towards each other, leaving the walls that house them and soaring directly into the sword. The sword rattles and shakes as it contains the raw power of the stars, and time resumes.
Deus's eyes widen as they witness something no man has witnessed.
Raphael smiles fruitfully as his plan slowly comes into place, removing his hand from mine.
My eyes remain awestruck as my mind attempts to comprehend the image that only I could see.
Sounds of squelching can be heard from the place we left Rioca's body.
How long has it been since her shadow decided to play security guard?
Five? Ten minutes?
My thoughts waver, my consciousness snaps back to the matter at hand. Raphael places a hand on my shoulder, his glove somehow back on before anyone could notice.
He nods. I understand.
He knows I can do better.
He knows I'm underselling myself.
I close my eyes, feeling every blood cell pumping through my body. Through my toes up to my brain.
I can feel it.
Power.
The surge emits from me like a tremendous aura, filling the sword until the blade glows a cosmic navy blue. Stars colliding and imploding inside the weapon that now contained the power of the fourth dimension.
It stays in the air for me, waiting for my approval. I take it in my hand and turn immediately to our enemy's spectre.
I walk. Calm, collected. I am the only one who can do this. I am the only one who can get in her way.
Upon arriving at slashing distance, every eye upon its vestige points their dirty pupils at me.
"We're not so different, you know." It beckons.
"It talks now."
"I could always talk, you just never listened." It says in desperate attempt to reach me.
However, a consciousness won't stop me from killing it.
If it had a conscience, that would be different, but this thing exists only to harm and kill.
I raise my sword arm one more time, my blade being an extension of my being, nice and slowly.
I want this thing to feel fear.
The very emotion it's been forcing on everyone for the better half of what should be perceived as three to four years.
My sword rattles in anticipation.
It wants to swing.
It needs to kill.
Something about this sword brings out the worst in me, and the better half of me wants to join it. It feels familiar. More and more familiar the longer I wield it.
Gravity starts to take hold of my arm and the blade begins to crash down.
"Wait wait wait WAIT!!!" The shadow begs.
"Kill it now!!!" Raphael screams, as my blade crashes down like a mighty axe upon a dandelion, and the shadow narrowly evades death. It swivels around my swing and zips to the other side of the tunnel, now opposite the skeleton.
"Phew! If you'd have killed me there, I could've never told ya my part of the story!" It pleas.
"I don't care about your side of the story. Die." I say as I prepare for a second strike.
"You have no patience!!!" The shadow pesters. "Just let me speak already!!!"
"Do we have to?" We say - Raphael, Deus and I - in unison.
"YES!!!" The shadow persists.
"Can't I just touch you and see your side of the story myself!" I ponder, as Raphael and Deus gain the confidence to join me.
"I wouldn't say that's a good idea, this thing could stab you at a moments notice." Raphael whispers, just loud enough for everyone to hear. "Plus, it's weird looking. You really wanna touch that thing?"
"How do you even touch such a weird looking shadow anyway?" I respond.
"Even I heard that!!!" It defends. "You're really not even trying to whisper, are you?!"
"No." We say in unison once more. "Not at all."
The shadow sighs as hard as a shadow can sigh.
"Look, I'll send out one tendril. No blades, no hostility, just give me one touch. See? I can be nice!" It persists, as a long murky tentacle-like tendril slowly approaches me.
I hesitate as my sword arm twitches, but I hold it down. I reach out to touch the shadowy tentacle and am flooded with memories of something dark.
*
It drifted through England for years. Decades. Centuries.
A spirit without a name. Manifested from the hatred felt by humanity towards humanity.
It was birthed from the earth five hundred years ago when a man had ventured out to destroy the vampire menace.
The culling of vampires began in China, and hastily spread its plague to Japan, where it never truly stood a chance.
The peasants and workers were first, moving towards samurai, and then finally making its way towards royalty.
When an elite squadron of vampire hunters came to quell the menace, it was already far too late. The vampires had injected themselves into society. They had families, children, lives that benefitted all of Japanese society.
The squadron came as quickly as it could have. Taking a boat that closely resembled a pirate ship to the southern coast and making their way north. Upon arrival, they realised it was so much worse than they thought, and the vampire plague was near enough airborne. This meant as little survivors as possible.
Equipped with weapons they deemed Sunrise Blades, they stormed through Japan, killing everyone infected, never knowing that doing this will destroy the country for decades. Centuries, even.
They killed.
They slaughtered.
Men, women, children.
Tens of thousands of heads cut off and hearts staked.
When the storms of relatives up north found out about the family they'll never see again, the waves
of sadness and vengeance created something brand new.
It condensed into a spirit. A tiny red ball of light was birthed amongst the sea of blood that covered the southern regions, and began its search for vengeance.
Vengeance for what?
It didn't know, but it lived for vengeance.
Its sore reason for existing was vengeance.
It set out to the seas from Japan to England, for roughly five years before it reached the cold streets of London, and somehow, some way, it arrived just in time to witness the celebration of the great heroes who quelled the vampire threat.
Celebration. HA!
It stalked, it followed, and it found where one of them lived.
The ever courageous hero.
Beginning a marvellous plan, it concentrates hard, pushing with all of its being, and releasing a second version of itself.
A second ball of light.
Number two floats in serene independence for a second before zooming towards the hero, who was graciously placing his weapon upon his mantle, never knowing that he would experience the same day forever from today.
That night, at 11:02, he is mutilated by a shadow who takes the form of his wife. 'She' rambles and rants about how he's a dirty cheater and she knows what he's been doing every time he leaves, regardless of the fact that his actual wife was doing exactly that.
His actual wife was in the garden, gathering their laundry. She finds out that her husband dies upon bringing them in.
In her grief, she kills herself and their child with his legendary weapon.
The spirit laughs.
This is the event that the lesser Gods like I call, True Night.
You see, the tale that God had informed me earlier wasn't entirely incorrect. The event had happened, True Night was a historical genocide.
Shonoyoru was the curse.
Centuries pass, and the inescapable scourge of man imitates the great slaughter of the 1500's. So many wars are waged in the name of religion, righteousness and peace, as blood is shed all the same.
The spirit, in tune, gets stronger with every conflict.
Upon the year 1990, as it waits for the next conflict, it comes across a black-hairs teenager writhing in pain on a park bench.
It appears she's pregnant with nowhere to go.
The dirt of society, only existing to be stepped and spat on.
What a riot.
But something happens when it watches her.
It starts to feel sorry for her.
That disgusting vengeance it held so close had manifested into empathy.
It witnesses the blight of humanity push and kick her, with all the force their legs can create.
It witnesses once more, life that could have been, die in front of it.
It.. wants to help…
… But it also wants to make humanity suffer.
It speaks to her the way it believes she wants it to sound.
It speaks like a brute, as if it only wants one thing.
Her spirit seems satisfied knowing her expectations were correct.
It seems satisfied knowing she believed it.
It attempts to take root inside of her. First, just a little bit, and then all at once. It isn't long before Rioca Antonella is barely there.
Before I can see any more, the being known sometimes as Rioca stares directly at me with scarlet red eyes, and personally ejects me from their now-shared memories.
*
Time remains paused as the tentacle that could easily slice my neck open stays stagnant in the air. I ponder for a moment, my allies paused aside me.
How the hell am I supposed to react to that?
'I feel bad because it was born from death'?
That's bullshit and we all know it.
Like hell, I'll spare an enemy out of empathy!
It's been like twenty-one-hundred days in a row in this hellhole! If this thing is keeping us here, it has to die here and now.
Time resumes as my sword swings. The closest tentacle falls to the ground, leaving but a single shadow stain where it lay.
"What gives?!" It cries.
"What the hell was I supposed to gleam from that?" I interrogate.
"What?! That wasn't enough?!" It pleas through what could only be perceived as tears. "Didn't you hear my name?!" It continues.
"No. And I also never asked."
"It's Lorelei! Lorelei! Doesn't that name say something to you?!"
"Lorelei…" Raphael repeats to himself. "Hey." He says directly to me.
"Want me to make it quick?" I respond.
"I want you to touch my hand again."
"This is getting old really fast."
"I mean it, this has a reason! I've commanded my mind to filter for the name Lorelei, and I need you to remind me." He rationalises, holding out his now ungloved hand.
I sigh, take his hand like a delicate princesses, and am once again flooded with memories. This time, presented as if a slideshow. Giving me files and folders requested, signed and accepted by a Lorelei.
Raphael's eyes widen as he falls to his knees, his head tilted back as if basking in the light of a new God.
"Lorelei has been behind all of this." He mutters. "Lorelei has been three steps ahead of us. It orchestrated the end of the world single-handedly."
I swing my sword at the shadow once more.
It zips down the tunnel in fierce evasion, laughing all the same, in a maniacal and witch-like cackle.
I descend to Raphael's level and attempt to console him.
"We don't.. stand a chance… We never did…" He grumbles, never wavering from his defeated posture. I take his arm and place it around my shoulder. As I do so, his ungloved hand graces mine, and I am granted with the memory of…
My own name.