Aetheral Space-Chapter 543 - 17.15: The Smell of Smoke

The sky was flickering.

The damage from the battle between Nigen Rush and Lusifer Westmore had been immediate. Broken glass came down like snow over the forest, settling in the leaves and scratching at Haisley's skin as it landed. She hid under the hefty branches of a tree to avoid the worst of the deluge -- and even then, she could already feel the stinging all over her body.

The sky turned red, blue, green, pink, the lights in the far-off ceiling switching between various different settings as they malfunctioned from the damage. Finally, they settled on a harsh and unnatural white, like the light of heaven had come to scorch the world clean. All of Ward 8 was given the sterility of a hospital in an instant.

Bang.

Slam.

Crash.

The ground shook. The trees above trembled, leaves drifting down. Haisley clung onto the roots of the tree with all she had, her eyes wide as she stared straight ahead into the undergrowth. It was nearly impossible to believe that all this was the result of a mere swordfight. It felt more like they were trying to blow each other up with bombs. This was what the power called Aether was capable of?

This was not what a fight between humans should have looked like.

Haisley waited for the chaos to abate -- and, when it became clear that it would not, she slowly picked herself up on trembling legs. It was just like Nigen had said. She had to get out of here.

She could hardly believe the words she'd said just a few minutes ago. I'll stay, she'd said. How could she have been so stupid? She'd had no idea what she was talking about. If she'd stayed, she knew now, she'd be dead, her body unrecognisable.

The image of it flashed in her mind. The pile of meat that could have been her. As the tremors below lessened just a little, she took her chance and went to run --

-- only to skid to a halt immediately.

Someone was emerging from the undergrowth, right in front of her. No, two people. Two people she recognised the moment she saw them. Two people anyone in Zepan would have recognised.

The leader of the Unseelie, hero of the city, One Star. Even as he walked through the forest, he had his eyes closed, a serene smile on his lips and his long orange hair tied into a regal-looking braid. People said that his vision was so good that he didn't even need to open his eyes to see, but Haisley didn't get how that worked. Besides, that was the least of her concerns right now.

One Star was pushing a wheelchair -- and sitting in that wheelchair was the second person that anyone in Zepan would recognise. The Director of the Pandershi Foundation, creator and ruler of all that Haisley had ever known… Zephyr Pandershi.

Gram Plink had shown Haisley pictures of Pandershi during the time of the revolution -- a tall, heroic-looking man with curly white-and-orange hair and gleaming amber eyes, usually holding up a flag as he led the charge against the Foremen. That had been so many years ago, though, and the Director was now an old man. He'd pioneered an anti-aging surgery and even used it on himself several times, but the signs of age always seemed to return before long. It was like he was bungee jumping between young and old.

The person who looked at Haisley from the wheelchair, then, was unsettlingly timeless. His white-and-orange hair was long, hanging over his face like a sheet with only a single parting to reveal an eye and the corner of his mouth. His hands were nearly skeletal, fingernails overgrown until they nearly matched the length of his fingers, which gripped onto the arms of the wheelchair with all the strength they could muster… which didn't seem to be much. Withered as he was in this state, it seemed like Zephyr Pandershi couldn't even walk under his own power.

And yet… Haisley couldn't shake the feeling that, any second now, he would leap out of that chair and chase her down.

The closest thing to God on Nehr Müt smiled thinly.

"Hello, Haisley," he said, as if they were old friends. "Don't worry. Don't be afraid. All of this will be over soon enough."

AETHERAL SPACE 17.15

"The Smell of Smoke"

The forest was burning.

All around the barely visible shapes that were Nigen Rush and Lusifer Westmore, the trees were bursting into flame. Ash danced through the air. Scorched footsteps left their mark in the grass. Even from far away, a pillar of smoke would lead anyone seeking them out to this battleground.

This was not the result of a power the combatants were using -- neither of them were pyrokinetics, after all -- but rather a side-effect of their sheer speed. Both of them had long ago broken through the limits of living flesh, and the rest of the world lagged behind their skill.

In terms of swordsmanship, Nigen Rush was an insurmountable wall. Each strike he unleashed consisted in reality of dozens of strikes, an optical illusion generated by the swiftness of his swings. He cut through everything as if it were nothing at all. The trees, the flame, the smoke, the air -- all of it cleanly bisected, so cleanly it barely even seemed real.

If he were fighting anyone else, this battle would have ended before the first spark could hit the ground -- but this was Lusifer Westmore, and where Nigen excelled at swordsmanship, Lusifer excelled at trickery.

Westmore packed as many feints into an instant as Nigen did slashes, and when it came to fighting he used every dirty trick in the book. As he fought Nigen, he took every effort to ensure the harsh lights above were shining directly into his opponent's eyes -- and when that wasn't possible, he tossed sand at them himself. He even peppered in his ability between attacks, blasting transmissions of foreign trauma into his enemy's mind to create instants of hesitation. Any and every advantage was greedily seized. As the illegitimate child of an illegitimate child, that was the way he'd lived his life since the moment of his birth.

Lusifer's Aether tic echoed throughout the trees -- his olo Aether letting out the eerie laughter of countless disembodied voices. Another distraction to add to the pile, the volume of the laughter growing louder with the ferocity of his movements.

Even with all that, though, all it meant was that Lusifer was just barely able to survive. In a contest of swordsmanship, Nigen would easily win, and Lusifer had no delusions otherwise. As Nigen unleashed a series of slashes that practically formed a solid sphere around his own body, Lusifer dodged backwards.

There wasn't a wasted movement as Lusifer seized one of the few chances he'd be presented with. He spun one of his batons upwards, holding it next to his face like he was carefully aiming a sniper rifle at his enemy. His voice was cold -- all previous levity abandoned -- as he hissed:

"Kill him, Plutus."

Nigen blinked -- and when his eye opened again, his enemy's blade was a fingernails length away from it.

For all that he had disgraced the position, Lusifer Westmore had once been one of the Seven Blades of the Turning of the Heir. The most basic qualification was that he wielded a blade. His batons, collectively named Plutus, each had a concealed ice pick-like blade built into the base of the handle -- when Lusifer pulled the hidden triggers, those blades were able to stretch across meters in quite literally the blink of an eye. They were like the fangs of a serpent, thirsty for blood.

Nine times out of ten, that blade would have pierced it's target's brain and ended their life. But Nigen Rush knew only the tenth world.

His blade, a cutting point of light, danced through the air and deflected the strike before it could cross that last centimeter. Narrowing his eyes, Nigen glared across the clearing at Lusifer. Plutus' blade retracted just as quickly as it had extended.

"Tell me," Nigen said. "I'm sure you didn't get me just now, since I can still see. How many strikes have I landed on you?"

Lusifer stretched, his usual relaxed demeanour returning. "What are you even talking about, Rush-man?" he chuckled. "It'd be pretty obvious if one of us got hit, right? You'd be able to tell right away. I guess we must just be evenly matched, huh?"

"Areopagitica," Nigen replied, unblinking.

"Areo what now?" Lusifer smirked.

"It's the passive version of your ability, isn't it?" Nigen said, slowly beginning to circle Lusifer around the edge of the clearing. His sword was still in his hand, thirsty for execution. "As the one fighting you, I can't retain any memories of me landing a successful strike on you, or you landing a successful strike on me. That way, the longer the fight goes on, the more my understanding gets desynchronized from the reality. Most injuries I wouldn't be able to notice, but I doubt your power can keep a missing eye from me."

He stopped, raising his sword once more.

"There were some dodges back there I thought unlikely," Nigen murmured. "You've slowed down a little, too. Is that blood loss or exhaustion? I would say that I've hit you three times so far. Well, Mr. Westmore?"

If Nigen had hit the nail on the head, the nail didn't seem too bothered by it. He just sighed theatrically, flapping his wrist this way and that as he waved a hand.

"You keep going on about this Areo power, Rush-man," he said. "I don't really get it. It makes it so you forget stuff? Man, that sounds pretty tough. But you're thinking you've hit me three times? Eh, that wouldn't be that crazy, I guess. You're pretty tough, after all. But I think you're missing the forest for the trees here, Rush-man. Hey, heheh, we're in a forest, that's pretty good!"

He laughed, full of cheer, leaning against a sturdy tree even as it was consumed by flames. As his laughter trailed off, fading into the resolve of a killer, those eyes of black looked right into the soul of Nigen Rush.

"The question isn't how many times you've hit me, Rush-man… it's how many times have I hit you?"

"Are you frightened…?" Zephyr Pandershi asked, his voice faint and oddly youthful. "That's quite alright. Nobody will ever hurt you. You have my guarantee. I would never allow that."

Haisley swallowed as she looked at the faded amber of Director Pandershi's eye. She didn't know why it felt like such a shock to see him before her. She'd seen him dozens of times a day, at doors and sinks and fridges. She'd declared love for him, just like everyone else. She'd said it enough times that she'd started to wonder if she meant it.

Now, though, looking into that eye? She felt a repulsion that went down to her bones.

"You are frightened," Pandershi sighed. "Ah… that's not good. That's not good at all. Is it this face? This ravaged, hideous, ugly, ugly face of mine?"

Slowly, muted by the circumstances, Haisley shook her head. Even if she tried to speak, she doubted the words would make their way out of her throat.

"I see," Pandershi slowly closed his eye. "It must be that man, then. It is, isn't it? That awful man that broke into our heaven. What did he tell you? He's a criminal on the outside, you know. A wanted killer. Did he tell you that? I bet not."

As Pandershi went on and on, more to himself than anything else, One Star leaned in from behind.

"Sir," the leader of the Unseelie said softly. "If you wish to observe the fight between those two, it's best we not delay."

"Quite right," Pandershi nodded vaguely, with as much gusto as his frail body could manage. "Let's be off, then, One Star. Lusifer will not fail me. I wish to see the conclusion."

It was as if he'd forgotten Haisley was there entirely. Pandershi leaned back in his wheelchair without another word as One Star took him through the forest, past Haisley, and towards the sounds of battle. Neither he nor his second-in-command spared Haisley a glance. Right now, their only focus was on --

"You're a liar!" shouted Haisley.

She blinked.

Huh? Who had said that? Her? No way. She wasn't that stupid. Was she? She'd been real loud, too. Her own voice was echoing back at her, just as it must have been echoing all throughout the forest. You're a liar. You're a liar. You're a liar. She had. She'd said it without meaning to -- and now the world was saying it back to her, again and again and again.

Pandershi had stopped.

"What did you say…?"

He didn't look back at her as he spoke, but Haisley could imagine the cold fury in that one eye. From the moment Haisley had been born, Zephyr Pandershi had been the god of her world. Until now, she hadn't fully appreciated that he could be a vengeful god.

Her voice cracked. "I --"

The last echo came back to interrupt her. You're a liar.

Her mouth was done. Her mouth was done talking, surely. She begged it for that to be true… but a second later, it opened again, and spoke again.

"You're a liar!" she screamed for the second time.

Pandershi said nothing.

Haisley's mouth kept moving, even as panic flared in her brain. "You're a liar! You're a liar! Don't tell lies about Nigen! He's a good guy! He's here to fight the bad guys! You're a bad guy! Shut up!"

How many times had she told this person she loved him? She'd seen his face so many times, and she'd spoken those words so many times. I love you, I love you, I love you. Everyone had declared their love for Zephyr Pandershi countless times, just for the sake of living their lives. And now, meeting him face to face for the first time, Haisley could only think one thing.

Oh. I hate this guy.

Silence finally settled on the forest clearing. Not just quiet, but a death shroud. Pandershi stared at Haisley with the wide and inhuman eye of a doll.

"To think…" he murmured. "One of my own…"

It would have been better if Pandershi had shouted. If he'd thrown himself from his chair, spittle flying from his lips as he hurled curses at her, that would have been something she could see the end of. That quiet monotone, though… Haisley couldn't imagine what was going on in the head of that genius. That was the most frightening thing.

"One Star --"

"Hey now! Don't you have somewhere else to be, Zeffie?"

The cheerful voice was a stark contrast to the tension that had been building in the forest -- and from the way Pandershi's shoulders relaxed, it seemed like it had very nearly succeeded in banishing it entirely. Indeed, when he looked over his shoulder -- which seemed to take quite a bit of effort -- there was no murderous glint in his eye. The corner of his mouth wrinkled in a strained smile.

"So you've come, Puck," he said quietly.

The terror that had been holding Haisley still abated, just a little, and she turned her head to follow Pandershi's gaze. Just as the old man had said, the mascot Puck was standing among the trees, its metal frame and blank smile utterly unsuited to the 'natural' environment around them. It advanced, its footsteps making cartoonish 'pop pop pop' noises.

"You have business with Nigen Rush, don't you, Zeffie?" Puck chirped. "Do you really have time to waste on something like this?"

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Pandershi smiled thinly. It didn't reach his eye. "Time doesn't matter to me, Puck. You know that. Zepan is my neverland."

The sight behind him made those words seem absurd. The battle between Nigen Rush and Lucifer Westmore had reached a level of destruction far beyond what two human beings should have been capable of. In the distance, Haisley could see mountains of dirt and countless trees being hurled up into the air by sheer proximity to their clash.

"That's sooo true, Zeffie!" Puck giggled, ignoring the spectacle before it. "But, you know, maybe you're too good at finding talented people? I think that Nebula of yours might finish off Nigen Rush before you even get the chance to take a look at him!"

Pandershi narrowed his eye, and Puck pressed further.

"It'll be a pain if Nigen Rush dies here, right? If he goes missing for much longer, the Supremacy will start looking -- they'll be able to track him here. You're not ready to discard the UAP yet, right? Isn't it better to keep things nice and quiet here? You have that bluff you can use, don't you, Zeffie?"

For a moment, Pandershi's eye narrowed further, and it looked like his gaze might even turn hostile -- until he suddenly relaxed. The smile on his lips became just a tad softer as he looked at Puck with what seemed like genuine warmth. A low, hoarse chuckle trickled from his throat.

"As the one who's known me longest, I suppose it's no surprise you're nearly able to follow my train of thought, Puck. It's just as you say… I need Nigen Rush to leave this place on peaceful terms. Knowing his character, there's a very easy way to do that."

"Gosh, I guess you'd better hurry, then," Puck murmured. "If the fight goes too far, nobody knows what will happen, huh?"

"Trying to manipulate me…" Pandershi muttered, smirking wryly. "Very well. I'll allow it. Wait here with Haisley until I return."

Puck's next words were far more robotic than those that had come before: "As you say, Director."

The shape of the land was changing.

The trees around Nigen Rush and Lusifer Westmore suffered ill fates one after another. They were shredded with blades, hurled away like confetti, blasted apart by air pressure. Chips of wood came down like sleet, and even they were destroyed where they came too close to the ongoing battle.

This was a clash between Blades, after all. Nothing could approach without being cut.

Only… one of the combatants no longer seemed to have any blades.

Nigen Rush realized with a start that the man barely managing to dodge his attacks now had empty hands. There was no way that Nigen would have missed him dropping Plutus -- no, he must have forgotten. Had Lusifer timed the relinquishment of his weapons to be at the same instant as him being hit by an attack, so the memory would be erased too as collateral damage? It'd be an outrageous exploitation of his ability, but if anyone was capable of it, it would be the Changeling.

The problem wasn't how Lusifer had done it, though. The problem was what he intended to do next.

Nigen moved his head back slightly -- and avoided the strike that would have killed him. A long needle-like blade had suddenly thrust itself out of the burning undergrowth around them, aimed right for Nigen's temple. Before he could blink, the blade retracted, disappearing into the smoke once more.

And then, from another angle, there was another blade. Prepared this time, Nigen parried the attack with his sword at the same time as he kicked at Lusifer's stomach -- but the Changeling dodged the blow, leaping backwards. Before Lusifer even hit the ground, another blade had come to end Nigen's life. Another casual swing of his sword deflected that, but it still wasn't the end. Blades expanded and retracted without end, their speed increasing, coming for Nigen from every angle.

His sword moved.

Again.

Again.

Again.

I see, Nigen thought. It's not that he's planning to do something. He's already done it.

Lusifer's weapons, Plutus, were just as much automatics as they were implements. They had snapped their frames outwards into segmented forms, allowing them to slither across the ground and rapidly reposition themselves as they assaulted Nigen automatically. In the tiny intervals between strikes, they could reposition themselves entirely.

Nigen was immobilised by the onslaught, his sword becoming a blur as he rapidly continued to block each and every attack. His grey eyes carefully observed. As far as he could tell, each baton was attacking around sixteen times a second, so thirty-two strikes a second for both weapons together.

Light work.

That wasn't the only concern, though. The two Plutus truly were revolving around the battlefield at an incredible speed -- a speed so absurd that they were beginning to generate air pressure in their wake. As they struck and struck and struck, they weaved a tornado, the flames being sucked up to form a blazing firestorm.

The blades. The wind. The flames.

Nigen leapt from rubble to rubble as the firestorm picked up speed, keeping himself out of the spurting flames, continuing to block the stabs as he went. Even surrounded by walls of fire and imposed upon by chaos, Nigen continued to keep up. Thirty-two blocks a second. Constant repositioning. These were well within his capabilities.

Lycidas!

Lusifer had disappeared at some point, but he was clearly up to something. The fact that he continued blasting Nigen with the active version of his ability was proof of that. False memories of his own death bubbled to the top of Nigen's mind, intrusive thoughts designed to induce hesitation.

They would find no purchase within him.

High above, the sky shone with broken colours. All around, the world roared with the flames of hell. Dancing silver lights stretched forth to attack again and again and again, and the finest swordsman of humanity kept pace with it all. This was a battle with few witnesses, but even so the display was surely one of Nigen Rush's masterpieces.

Until.

It was obvious what Lusifer Westmore was after. He had determined that he couldn't beat Nigen Rush in a straight fight -- even though that should have been obvious already. Nigen's defense was too absolute, his offense too monstrous. If Lusifer had any chance of victory, it would be via assassination, a single decisive strike.

For that, he needed an opening.

Perhaps he had hoped the Plutus alone would be enough to provide that. Perhaps, when that failed, he thought the firestorm would suffice. Perhaps, when Nigen effortlessly adapted even to that, desperation drove him to deploy his ability again and again. Whatever dark hopes curdled within his heart, they were meaningless. No such opening had appeared.

Until.

It came flying out of the smog -- small and spherical, the most basic instrument for this kind of strategy. A flash bang. In any other situation, Nigen Rush would have cut it in half before his brain could even finish processing the visual information. Right now, though, with everything else happening…

…it was the straw that broke the camel's back.

Bang!

Nigen Rush flinched for just a fraction of a second. He continued blocking the blades, he continued avoiding the flames, but for just an instant the focus that had been at 100% was instead at 99%. That 1% was where Lusifer Westmore crawled.

The Changeling burst out of the flames -- charging directly through the most dangerous point to stop Nigen from predicting it -- and lunged at his opponent. This was the closest thing to an opening one could get against Nigen Rush, and even then it was very nearly not enough. Nigen's sword slashed automatically through the air -- and even with all that was happening, Lusifer Westmore was only barely able to dodge a strike that would have cut his left ear clean off. His momentum terminal, Nebula Four took the final step into Nigen Rush's range…

…and planted his hand directly in the centre of his enemy's chest.

"Paradise Lost!" Westmore roared.

His olo Aether roared too, a cacophony of laughter like he'd just told the funniest joke in the world -- and with a mighty push, Lusifer sent Nigen skidding backwards through the dirt.

The stabbing stopped. The winds faded. The fires died. Lusifer Westmore stood there, panting for breath, looking across the wasteland they'd created at his enemy. The slightest smirk of relief tugged at his lips.

Nigen Rush's expression, on the other hand, was pure confusion. His brow furrowing, he turned on the spot, slowly taking in the destruction around him as if he were seeing it for the first time. In an act of sheer insanity for a warrior, he willingly sheathed his sword.

Lusifer reached into his belt, pulling free a capsule of Panacea and dabbing it against the side of his head -- where his left ear had been cleanly cut off. A flower of new ears sprouted from the wound, fusing and diffusing until equilibrium was reached, a fresh ear settling in its proper place like nothing had happened. Lusifer's expression had changed -- even with what must have been the agonizing pain of regeneration, his face was completely slack, void of emotion.

"You can't hear me anymore," he said calmly. "But I guess I'll explain it anyway. Paradise Lost has completely erased my existence from your memory. The whole reason you came here was because of me, so you're probably wondering where the hell you are right now, huh, Rush-man?"

Lusifer's words would not reach Nigen Rush. He knew that. After being hit by Paradise Lost, this man was not permitted to retain any memories of Lusifer Westmore at all. The instant Lusifer's voice was registered by Nigen's brain, the information would be erased.

Right now, as far as his opponent was concerned, Lusifer Westmore did not exist.

Cracking his neck, Lusifer reached his hands out -- and dutiful Plutus leaped into his grip from both sides of the scorched forest. He flipped the batons -- once, twice -- his gaze fixed on Nigen the whole time, as if considering something. His eyes were dull, his mouth a flat line.

"This world is a pretty dull place, don't you think, Rush-man?" he asked quietly to a man who could no longer answer. "I definitely do. I've seen it from all sorts of different angles, and I'm not a fan. It's way too dark and cold. I gotta slither over to where it's warm, man. It's the only thing for me."

He lifted a hand, letting the baton dangle from his thumb, and smiled softly as olo Aether sparked across his palm. It giggled.

"Pretty damn warm, right?" he said.

Whatever kind of introspection that was, it ended just as quickly as it had begun. The thin sly grin returned to his face as he flipped the baton back into his hand, pointing it directly at the baffled Nigen Rush. The galaxy's finest swordsman had just turned his back, looking out at the bottled world of Ward 8. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎

His back turned, huh? Well, it seemed appropriate.

"In the end… you were boring too, huh?"

Lusifer Westmore pushed the trigger.

The blade stretched across space.

And Nigen Rush's hand moved.

He didn't turn to look. He didn't so much as blink. With the ease of slapping away a fly, Nigen Rush simply reached behind his back -- and caught the needle-like blade before it could pierce his body. Silver Aether coursing around his hand, he held it tightly, holding it in place, preventing it from fully extending.

Lusifer blinked. "...huh?"

"Your ability…" Nigen said slowly, still facing away. "...is to erase yourself from my consciousness, isn't it?"

"Hey…" Lusifer chuckled, even as a bead of sweat dribbled down his forehead. "Hey hey hey… how the hell --"

"My breathing and pulse are accelerated," Nigen interrupted. "My sword has heated up from movement. The signs of destruction are all around me. Clearly, a battle just took place there. I don't know how I got here, but I know that at least is true."

Oh, Lusifer realized. Oh… heheh… that's good… that's so good.

Nigen Rush hadn't interrupted him just now. How could he have? He couldn't hear a word Lusifer was saying. Paradise Lost was still in effect -- Lusifer was disappearing from Nigen's cognition the instant he was recorded. No… Nigen hadn't seen, heard, or perceived Lusifer with any of his senses at all.

The master of the sword had simply observed the world around him, and realised where the hole was.

"I am in what looks like the aftermath of a battle," Nigen continued, holding onto the blade with all his strength. "And yet no corpse lies before me. Therefore… the battle hasn't ended yet. We're still fighting, aren't we, you and I? You hit me with this ability so you could set up a killing blow."

His lips curled into a smirk.

"I'm holding onto something right now, aren't I?" he asked the empty air. "I can't tell what it is, but I can guess. You were going to use this to kill me, weren't you? How foolish. Even if I can't register your existence, I can feel the movements of the air. Did you really think you could bring a blade close to me without me noticing?"

Slowly, he turned to look over his shoulder, his grey eyes staring across the length of the blade and right through Lusifer.

"You're right over there…" he murmured, eyes half-lidded, smiling like a reaper. "...aren't you?"

For the first time in many years, a shiver went down Lusifer Westmore's spine -- and his usual sly grin spread out further into something wide and ferocious.

"Ha! Ahahaha!" he cackled gleefully, flipping his other baton to aim right for his enemy's forehead. "Ah, man! You really are something else, NIGEN RUSH!"

His thumb pushed down on the trigger…

"Westmore. Enough."

…only to relax as he heard the voice of his employer.

"Ah, man…" Lusifer repeated, sighing. All the excitement had drained out of him, leaving him looking somewhat deflated. "It was just about to get good, too. What's up, Pandershi-man?"

Lusifer turned his head to look as One Star wheeled Pandershi's wheelchair through the devastated battlefield. Nigen, too, turned to look. Even if he couldn't perceive Lusifer Westmore, he could see these new arrivals perfectly well.

"Zephyr Pandershi," Nigen said cautiously, one hand still on his sword as the other held onto Plutus. "I take it we're on Nehr Müt, then?"

Pandershi's eye slid over to regard Lusifer. "Release your ability. Negotiations will be difficult otherwise."

Lusifer grimaced. "Ah, seriously…?"

"It doesn't last forever anyway. Just do as you are told. That is our arrangement, after all."

"Fine, fine," Lusifer muttered, returning his free baton to his hip. "Whatever you say. Paradise Reclaimed."

Olo Aether chuckled.

The effect was instantaneous. Nigen's head swung around to face Lusifer once more, and the blade in his hand rose with deadly resolve. For a second, it looked like he might just ignore the new arrivals and lunge at Lusifer to restart the battle… but caution won out. Still facing Lusifer, he glanced over at Pandershi.

"What is this?" he growled.

The corner of Pandershi's lip twitched in a feeble attempt at a smile. "What do you mean? You came here to meet with my friend Lusifer in the first place, didn't you? I thought it would be nice if you had the opportunity to get everything out before you left."

Nigen scoffed. "You think I'm satisfied with just this, old man?"

Pandershi's eye narrowed at those last few words, but his tone remained cordial. "I was certainly hoping so. You would say otherwise?"

"This rogue must be dispatched, not merely engaged," Nigen spat -- before pointing his sword in Pandershi's direction. "And I've seen the world you've constructed, Zephyr Pandershi. I dislike it. I'll be dismantling that too before I leave."

Pandershi clasped his withered hands on his lap. "How strange," he murmured. "Despite your profession, Mr. Rush, I'd always heard that you were a peaceful sort of man. I suppose it just goes to show you can't trust the opinions of others. I've built a world of utter peace, and this supposed peaceful man dislikes it?"

"You've built a world of quiet," Nigen replied. "A prison of quiet. I won't just stand here and pretend I haven't seen it. Before I leave, I'm throwing the doors open."

Pandershi's lip curved. Pandershi's eye narrowed. The lightest, quietest gasp of laughter came from his throat. All of these movements were packed with nothing but malice.

"I rather doubt that," he said.

Nigen gripped his sword tight. "And why is that?"

"Oh," Pandershi chuckled. "It's rather simple."

In the midst of the burnt battlefield, Zephyr Pandershi spoke, and Zephyr Pandershi spoke, and Zephyr Pandershi spoke…

…and with each word that passed through his lips, the shadow of despair grew heavy on the face of Nigen Rush.

Nigen emerged from the undergrowth before Haisley, his sword sheathed at his hip, his gaze downcast. Haisley leapt up from where she'd been waiting for him on the grass, running forward while completely ignoring Puck by her side.

"Did you win?!" she asked excitedly, looking up at him. "Did you get him?!"

Nigen didn't answer. He didn't even stop. He just kept walking as if he hadn't seen her. His fists were clenched, his breathing heavy. A vast weight had settled on his back.

"Nigen?" Haisley asked, turning her head as he stalked past her. "What happened?"

He answered without looking at her. "My business is concluded here. I'll be leaving now." His words were dull and flat.

Haisley blinked. "But… huh? You were going to free everyone, right…? What do you mean you're leaving?"

Nigen stopped -- and for a second, it looked like he wanted to say more, but no words passed his lips. For the first time, Haisley realized just how tightly he was clenching his fists. Blood was dripping down from where his nails were piercing his palms.

With a whirr, Puck stepped forward. "This is fine, Nigen Rush," it said calmly, almost comfortingly. "This is how it should have been from the beginning."

"Take her home, automatic," Nigen muttered. "Just… do it, alright?"

"Of course. My purpose is the happiness of humans."

"Nigen!" Haisley cried, stepping forward. "What are you talking about?! Where are you going?!"

For Haisley, the world had suddenly turned upside down -- no, the world had stopped. The momentum that Nigen Rush had promised to bring to Nehr Müt had suddenly vanished all at once. He couldn't just leave! He couldn't.

For the first time, Nigen turned to look at Haisley. She could see that he was biting his lip now, too, and blood was slowly dribbling down his chin. His grey eyes had always seemed separated from the world, but now they shone with a very human pain.

"Goodbye, Haisley," he said hoarsely, taking a step forward as well.

In the last moment before he turned away again, he crouched down and clapped a reassuring hand on her shoulder -- and, as quietly as he could, he whispered.

"I will come back…" he said. "...with others."

And then, without another word, he turned and left.

Haisley never saw him again.