It's Been a While

The meteors came on. The meteors broke apart into a downpour and fell.

Oni raised a mirror of darkness, and the glass drank the meteors in. Then the meteors shattered the mirror, and shards of glass went scattering on the wind. Oni had already stepped clear of the spot. The meteors never got the result they wanted.

"Hm."

The Fourth Apostle worked his mouth, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠spat—ptui—and sent a mouthful of bloody water at Oni while he picked apart what had just happened.

"Attack. Transfer."

"Oh, I don't know. Couldn't tell you."

Oni closed fingers as fine as white jade around the sword's hilt. Pale skin against all that black made quite a picture.

Whoosh! She sprang lightly, rose as if she had turned into a leaf, twisted that supple body, and brought the sword around. Black qi detonated outward, fierce enough to swallow even the body of its master.

Crrk. From the Fourth Apostle's chest, the Sixth Apostle opened its mouth. A beam carrying the light of the abyss lanced out.

———!

Black qi and beam collided. Light that was dark and light that was bright flickered, each devouring the other. Eyes closed, the Fourth Apostle met the spent force pouring in.

A butterfly danced. His feet drew circles, shaping wings that rode the wind, and his hands pointed the way the butterfly would go.

"……!"

Oni, who had driven into his embrace, flung her eyes wide. What met them was not a massive body. It was the scenery on the other side.

"Technique establishes the martial."

The butterfly took her in, as if it had found a flower where it might rest a while.

"Art fills the nothing."

Oni's sight went black. The thought I have to get out lived side by side with the thought Why should I? It was reason and emotion falling out of tune—proof that the Fourth Apostle's art had reached a height where it could argue with perception itself.

"Mark it well."

KRRRRGH! The butterfly sought the flower's pistil. Overwhelming physics fashioned a little world, and Oni became a bird in a cage.

"Brrrr!"

The butterfly's veins shuddered, then pattered loose and fell. The Fourth Apostle's eyes gleamed.

"O pitiable monster. O fool ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠who chases a god."

"To sleep in this place is, for you, a truly beneficial thing. And so……"

"Blah, blah. Noisy."

"……?!"

Kreeeek. The cage warped. The world cracked, and in the gap Ak opened her mouth.

"If you're going to be a giant, be a giant. Say brainless, half-wit crap. Quit acting like you've got class."

"Got that?"

"Think you're some sage? You crazy psycho bastard."

"……Kh!"

It was opening. It had opened.

Thud! Thud! Thud! A broken drum was beating, and he could not stop it.

What is this……?

Every measure of strength he fed it was sucked away. He was becoming that thing's fodder.

For an instant he saw a serpent swimming the universe. The serpent drove its roots into the earth and ate whatever there was—unliving or living, it did not care—and when nothing remained to eat, at the very last it ate even itself. The seed it breathed out at the end of the ending drifted through the cosmos. The seed put out a sprout no matter the place, and when that growth had grown, and grown again—

"A tree……"

—it had become a new serpent.

What did this mad monster lay a hand on?

By then Ak, half her torso already drawn out through the gap between the joints, wore a rank, fishy smile.

"Me? I took a demon's hand, you know. The woman who's going to be a god someday is me. Me!"

The diction of a well-bred young lady vanished. Ak, her true nature laid bare, crawled out of the dark.

"Beep! Beep!"

His dear friend was warning him. It could hold no longer.

"Hup!"

He abandoned the killing blow. The butterfly came apart and returned to flesh, and his interlaced hands hammered down.

BOOM!

A crater opened inside the crater. The Fourth Apostle did not give chase.

"Sixth Apostle!"

"Nod."

All of the Fourth Apostle's clothing came open. Beams made of straw poured down like rain—the violence of numbers, dumped across the whole field. Small destructions gathered until they became destruction of scale, a power that made it meaningless whether the enemy lived or died. The destruction stopped only once the dust had risen into a cloud.

"Kh."

Perhaps because he had found a little room to breathe again, the Fourth Apostle groaned over his rotted hand. Even his transcendent regeneration was a long way from bringing the life back into it.

"Kii. Kii."

The Sixth Apostle was no better. It had fared better than the Fourth, yet portions of its straw had gone black. It shook itself ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and cast that portion off. The trousers slid right down.

Pshuk!

"……!"

"Aah. It didn't come off."

A disappointed voice. Oni was sweeping the blood beaded on her sword up with her tongue.

Thud! The Fourth Apostle went to one knee. From an ankle sliced halfway through, blood fountained.

"Kng! Kng!"

Straw crept toward the wound. He beat a hand against his chest and stopped it. The wound was wrong: marks as if a beast had bitten him, and black qi boring into the meat. Pain spread like a toxin, and his stamina ran out of him in real time. In a single exchange, the other side had taken several of their advantages.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

"As expected, this doesn't cut well."

Beyond the right arm he had raised, Oni beat the sword down at random. Whether she knew nothing of swordsmanship or nothing of swords, she was swinging a legendary blade like a club.

"Kng! Kng!"

The trouble was that this alone was enough for the damage to stack. A sword forged of black qi stole his vigor at every touch. Oni's energy swelled in real time. The madness in her eyes heaped slaughter upon slaughter, and reason mixed itself into feeling. Black qi seeped from the smiling corner of her mouth. She seemed to find the situation too delightful to bear.

At this rate—!

BANG!

"Guhk!"

A hole opened in that ironclad body. Air passed straight through his gut.

"Mm. I don't care for it, but this is the most certain."

In her off hand Oni set several black magatama afloat. The comma-jewels spun in wild directions and fired like bullets. The Fourth Apostle rolled aside.

"Kyaha! What a fun game of catch."

Whish! Whish! Whenever a magatama came in, he dodged in a shameful scramble, rolling one moment and leaping the next.

"Huff. Huff."

"Mm…… Already? How dull."

Oni's excitement seemed to have cooled. She looked at him with disappointment.

"I thought you were tough. You're really not. Let's end it here."

"……"

The Fourth Apostle whispered to the Sixth.

You, at least—get clear—

But the whisper never arrived.

"Exclusion."

They went still. At a voice neither of them had heard before, both were slow to answer it.

"You. What are you—!"

"Exclusion!!!"

Rustle. The clothing around the Fourth Apostle drew inward and became a dainty little scarecrow. The scarecrow broke into a scrambling run and threw itself at Oni.

"What's this?"

Oni's sword ran the scarecrow's head through. Bold as the charge had been, the end was empty.

"A pet's loyalty is touching."

The sneer came flying. The Fourth Apostle clenched a fist and shook.

"Are you crying?"

"……"

"Really? And you a full-grown adult."

Press. Oni's foot settled on the Fourth Apostle's head. The huge head was hauled this way and that beneath a small foot.

"……I'm sorry."

"What?"

"Ex……clusion……"

VMMMM! A scarecrow latched onto the Sixth Apostle's feet.

Grab. With his rotten hands the Fourth Apostle wrapped Oni again. It was a frail motion, no more than setting his hands on her, but it was enough to gather the two of them into one place.

"Ha! This dying struggle—!"

She flung a hand out with no care for form. Before the black qi could take shape and rip that hand apart without mercy—

"Farewell."

"Splendid."

KABOOOOOM!!!

The mushroom cloud arrived first.

"Cough! Cough!"

He hacked up phlegm gone rotten with blood, and tipped his head.

"Ha. Every bit of it. Blown away."

Hands, arms, legs, organs, all the rest. Death was coming. A certain death. At this rate he would not be long in following.

"Hik. Hik."

"I'm losing it."

A hollow laugh left the Fourth Apostle at the unidentified shadow hauling itself upright.

"Keh. Khek. J-just as I thought. I. Didn't. Die."

The shadow staggered toward him. A woman of hideous shape came through the dust, limping. With every step she took closer, her skin aged, the way clear seawater pools on land and rots. Wrinkles bunched upon wrinkles. The flesh shrank in on itself.

"Y-you, you were st-still a-alive. I— I'm g-going to be a g-god."

The things she blurted, all in a tangle, were laughable.

"Right. You lived. Come and take it."

"Heh. Heh. Heh!"

The Fourth Apostle gave up. Even if he was devoured, a thing that paltry was not worth a second look. At last the woman, an old woman now, reached his belly. She had not even the strength left to breathe out black qi; she set yellow teeth into his skin.

Little by little. Little by little, he was drawn out. The time of his life was going dark. He let go of his last breath and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠closed his eyes.

"HAHAHAHA!!!"

Oni laughed like a mad thing, savoring what it felt like to be alive again.

And then.

Pele forced a gap in the barrier and stepped through.

"……That was one hell of a fight."

Did a nuke go off in here?

"Over there."

She saw the giant lying cold, crossed the distance in a single stride, and her face broke.

"What in the world……"

What happened here?

A giant, lying as if at rest. And a corpse wearing a smile of pure rapture. Pele followed the corpse's gaze and found a clear sky. Nothing was wrong with it. An ordinary sky hung there.