A Glimmer of Light in the Void: Chapter 8 Part 2
Joey should have thought about what was he going say before he called since he didn't even have to wait a single full ring for the Bossman to pick up the phone. So surprised at the speed and the sheer momentous relief in that normally inflectionless calm, blankly neutral, or angry, and nothing else in between voice he had grown accustomed to during his service: all the intelligence Joey had shown itself in his response.
"Uhhh..."
There was a cough at the other end. For some reason Joey -whose intuition was spotty like a dalmatian pelt at best- got a mental flash of Darkrai grinning of all things during the boogie man's next few words "Sorry. I'm with the boy at the moment so if I'm acting odd, that's why." Well that actually explained everything as if the Bossman's few words had been a speech.
Poor boy...Joey actually felt sorry for cute little trouble-making twink.
"I assume you have a problem Joey or is this an invitation for a sleep-over."
Oh god no; Joey was still** **recovering from the last partai the merciless bastard had thrown him. A fully body shiver passed through him just as he began to talk. Curse his fucking luck straight to hell! "Y-y-yeah...I mean no!no!NO! I mean -ugh..." Words might as well be slippery eels Joey thought as he tried to smack the words out to no avail.
"Let's try this again shall we chum?" Darkrai said calmly before clearing his throat so that Joey's shivering turned to full bodied trembling. "What seems to be the problem big guy?"
"We found one of those two that you have on the red list."
"Remind me which list that one is? I have so many you see." replied Darkrai patiently
"The 'call you ASAP' one you drilled into your higher up heads. The cute agents I believe. The girl wasn't traveling with them though. Just two unmanned 'mon."
"Oh...that list. Wonderful news then." Joey almost sighed with relief. Only to gurgle when it got stuck in his throat when Darkrai continued on in a tone of a modicum of excitement and impatience "Well are they dead yet or what? Wait...bad idea. Let them go and let them lead you to the girl."
"Kinda can't. One of the unmanned mon is a Confagrigus that has them locked up tight inside her. Weird travel companion that one in more ways than the obvious. Odd thing is she is doing that old polite and pleasant grandma routine. Doing everything and anything we want but very adamant of not doing that one thing we want her to do."
"Yeah... " Darkrai was saying distractingly as the boy's voice was saying something in the background; a question if Joey had heard the tone right and Darkrai answered the question with patience noticeably slipping by landslides "Yes those agents. No they aren't still chasing after you. Mew apparently thinks them better as bodyguards." More questions almost made it to audibility in Joey's ears before the were silenced by a very familiar popping noise.
"Ugh kids. noisy buggers am I right?"
"Wouldn't know. Make it a point to avoid them even though Xavier seems to want a whole colony of adopted ones."
"Oh right. Your orientation and inability to settle down would have a factor in that I suppose."
Well that was just rude!
"Tried threatening/killing her yet? Explosives should blow that puppy wide open" Cute little puppy yelps,whimpers, and howls came from the other end of the phone; sounds that made Joey grin and almost laugh from the sheer adorableness of the sound "No not talking about you Runt" When the sounds didn't quit immediately: there was another popping noise." Ugh kids... I would love to assist but I have my hands full with these brats at the moment. Where's Blake?"
"Out. I would call but his voice box is still shot. That and he is in a rather foul mood so I don't want to bother him at the moment. Kind of afraid for my life here."
Darkrai made a noise akin to sucking air through his teeth "Yeeeah you have every right to be my lad."
"Lucky for you that I can smell when I'm needed. I'm in a better mood by the way. Killing things thankfully has that effect on me."
"Holy sweet tit-fucking-Gods!" Joey shouted out at full volume as he whipped around to face Blake who was leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe with his Dragonite sentinel standing guard behind him; facing away, but obviously laughing her ass off. "Wear a freaking bell!" Joey shouted angrily at... the psychopath...currently covered head and foot in gore and mysterious meaty chunks... whom currently had a crazy glint in his eye.
Fuck.
Blake's laugh -more like eerily silent bellow- might as well have been audible as long as Joey's body was concerned. Well... then again Darkrai was laughing that eerie laugh of his when immediate bloodshed was about to occur/was occurring; which did the same things to Joey's body. "He's was right behind you the whole time wasn't he!" The Dark Master was apparently attempting to shout over his amusement. Lucky for Darkrai it barely worked.
Joey wasn't so amused though...More like about-to-wet-his-pants-terrified. A common occurrence for him that was for certain ever since he made the mistake of accepting the position of being Blake's second in command.
"That's why I keep you around Joey .You make me laugh and have plenty of balls unlike the other spineless whelps we have crawling around here like cockroaches...By the way what brings you into my office?"
Balls? What balls? OH the ones currently cowering in the bomb shelter of Joey's large stomach? Yeah. Sure. Plenty of balls alright.
Joey barely heard Darkrai chuckling voice say "Good luck trooper!"
Click.
Joey cleared his throat and gulped a few time to wet his throat before doing his best to explain the situation without squeaking like a mouse, A feat that was accomplished with sheer ludicrous luck. Blake pondered on the bit of news for a few moments; leaving Joey nothing to do but watch the familiar red substance drip drip drip dripping into the large puddle that was spreading slowly across the floor.
Finally Blake 'said' "Red list. Generals. and an annoying coffin whose sole Grandma-ish occupant is immune to all weaponry and all the Pokemon attacks in our disposal. Our ghost type keep getting sent back at us unconscious as if knocked out with a baseball bat. Did I get all that right?"
Joey just nodded, eyes bouncing like ping-pong balls as he watched the blood faucet's progress.
"Yeah sounds like a party alright. On my way. Be out of here in three seconds and I'll forgive you for basically calling me a grumpy pants."
Joey groaned miserably as he glanced quickly sideways at the window and back again to Blake's eerie eyes. "Don't make me jump out again please? It's at least twelve stories up and I'm still picking glass out of my fat ass from last time AND I'm still paying off the last one! I'm also still recovering from my fight so I can't transform yet without almost passing out!" Blake shrugged and drew his mighty shadow katana blade. By the time it made it's normal high, pitched shink noise when Blake cut the air with his habitual swing: the chubby man had already crashed through the window, fell a few feet, and flew back upwards on the back of his aerial steed that complained in his usual way when summoned unexpectedly with glass shards pricking into his dusty hide and a heavy load to carry.
Blake and Cecilia were still chuckling lightly when they entered the room that housed their current invited 'guest'.
Showtime Blake thought as a maniacal grin spread across his face and eyes began to twinkle with wicked delight.
"I think... we've never spent so long tangled up in each other like this for this long and not at least have 5 orgasims apiece." Steve said with a hint of awe.
Trevor snickered darkly "At least we're not spinning or rotating in some sci-fi spacial void of limbo. As long as that doesn't happen: I'm quite comfortable even if my body is a little flattened by your fat arse.."
"So we can dismiss our weapons and only light source then?" Steve said with a grin that Trevor couldn't so much a see but hear.
"Don't you fucking dare." The fear and anger in Trevor's voice was rather potent.
"Wasn't even considering it. Am now I think" Steve replied with a evil villainous laugh.
"Quit your squabbling. The boss just walked into the room. As you young'uns say: shit is about to become real"
"It's 'shit is about to get real' " Corrected Steve as the pair of them had adjusted so their faces and midsections were behind Trevor's protective shield. Moment's later the blow torch was back.
"This again? thought they would have learned after the last six or so attempts. thick-headed bastards aren't they? Good for us bad for them I guess."
"Least it's not another ghost type. If I have endure the pressure of one of your magnetic pulses crushing me to death I think I'm going to scream." An empty silence occured briefly before Trevor muttered "You sure you can only do it the full 360 instead of a simple 180?"
"It's a pulse Tre. They don't work that way. If I had more of a handle on my powers I could possibly in theory do what you're suggesting. Until then, grit your teeth and take it like a man."
"Why is that every sentence that has come out of your mouth in the past hour has at least a slight hint of sexual suggestion when we're trapped in a situation this dire?"
"What part of 'being crammed into tight spaces with hot, sweaty, sexy men makes me nearly sweat out my spunk' do you not understand?" Trevor's resulting woe-is-me groan nearly drowned out the Confagrigus's shout of "There though! You're up Tre!" Light temporarily blinded them both as the mon's doors opened with a slam: thus knocking the one with the blowtorch tumbling head over heels into the hallway. One down Trevor thought blandly as all of his core muscles stiffened in preparation for the attack that was meant to cut them down. Meanwhile his mind did a quick mental scan of the near invisible barrier that guarded the rest of their unprotected body areas .
That attack did come... just not in the way Trevor had expected it to come.
No blame there, considering a man whom fought against bullets a good majority of his life usually expects bullets after the six or so other times their host tried this same trick.
Clunk. thud. Clunk. thud. Clunk. To Trevor's left came a sound Trevor recognized as steel-toed boots thudding against a metal surface.
Ceramic tile flooring. Brick walls with metal support beams. Common setup for storage areas or holding cells.
Combining the knowledge Trevor had learned during the few very satisfying couple seconds of freedom that his hosts allowed him to grasp and the interconnecting webs of life-experiences had taught the agent to have: Trevor pinpointed his current opponent's location and progress. Reflexes took over the rest.
Wump echo and evidence of a overhead of a bladed weapon being pulled back. Next came the high,pitched hiss of that weapon cutting through air. Now all that was left was...
This is gonna hurt...alot.
Kerclang! Trevor felt more than heard the slender katana blade smashing into his shield instead of his barrier like he had been expecting. Thank god that powerful bastard of an idiot did since the strongest barrier Trevor willed into existence thus far shattered under the force of the tremendous blow like really thin glass and it didn't even make contact.
Trevor couldn't help but grin as the rebounding feature of the shield activated to drain the energy required to send the powerful blow back at his attack at double the strength. Thus sending the bad guy flying backward while the good guy was only driven down to one knee.
Trevor's grin did falter when he felt the stabs of shooting pain that came when bones started cracking. Hell Trevor was pretty sure but not certain he shouted out with surprise from the pain. Faltering still when Trevor felt the sheer force of the blow and angle had sent his shield flying out of his grasp.
Didn't matter now though. Time for the finisher before the lackey's got wise.
Which wasn't likely since Steve and the others were likely busy taking care of them while this little bit of distracting craziness went down. A fact that didn't really matter at this current moment.
This time Trevor did hear his bellow of effort as he threw his hammer as hard he could at the still flying blur that was his opponent.
A blur that suddenly stabilized mid-air and caught his hammer with a mere flick of the wrist.
To say that Trevor was floored was a understatement. Trevor's up until then silent opponent then took advantage of Trevor's surprise to break through Trevor's mental defenses.
"Your defenses are probably the best I've ever seen. Reflexes and environmental awareness are a close second and third. I'm fortunate that I have the smarts to hold my blade with a limp wrist or that reflection would surely have shattered it into tiny pieces. Your intent to kill however...extremely laughable. I would be if pacifist didn't make disgust me to the point of illness."During the rear end of that little message Blake then snapped and crushed Trevor's hammer with his bare hands.
"A shame really since the effectiveness of all Light One weapons depends on the intent to kill just like ours do. Oh well, the effort was amusing at the very least. Too bad I can't let you go to better yourself; you certainly have a lot of potential. See ya mate." Blake was already back for Round 2 before Trevor could even make a token lunge for his sheild. The shield was way too far away though. A fact that the logic center in Trevor's brain immediately knew was fatal; especially since Trevor couldn't seem to make a new hammar to have at least some chance of blocking or parrying the coming blow away. Apparently that was gone for good. Meanwhile Trevor's inner coward was screaming aloud a few number of words with disbelief and pure undulated terror.
"I DON'T WANNA DIE!" Blake's maniacal laugh and the whistle of his slashing blade blended well with Trevor's cry. So well in fact that it masked the click of claws on ceramic tile...a fact that would have warned the approach of the wall of fur that leapt suddenly in front of Blake's blade's path.
The heavy pressure and stench of Death's presence in that room intensified then into a near sickening degree.
For the rest of his natural life: Trevor will never forget that little smirk Spike flashed at him even as the shadowy katana blade cleaved him in two with a sickening wet sounding ripping noise.
"S-s-Spike?" Trevor was blissfully numb; the news of world shattering happenence hadn't yet reached the big guy's brain. Oh but it would... at a speed that would rival all freight trains at that.
Sometimes words cannot express a single rain drop of the emotions slamming into a person's psyche like a hurricane. Meaning the only thing Trevor could do was scream. The wordless grief-stricken and woe that carried in that wail was potent enough to momentarily pause any and all combat that was going on as the fighters turned.
"Aww the poor baby lost his dowggy. Quick someone grab a pacifier!" The crowd in the room suddenly burst into laughter while Steve's gaze landed on this poor fool with no human decency or empathy. The poor bastard didn't even see Fly until the gatling hook pierced the man's chest like a bullet before blooming out of the man's back.
"Get over here!" Steve bellowed as he yanked the guy to him so fast that the man's shocked surprise didn't even wear off yet. Meanwhile Steve put Origami away.
Lan wouldn't be needing her for the next couple minutes.
Woe to all that stood in that man's path in the middle of this mother of all blood rages...
"Whoops, sorry Blake I was so focused on this actually competent Arcanine that the mutt slipped away unnoticed." Was Cecelia's sorry-but-not-sorry token apology.
It's alright love, Gives me a chance to see what power the loss will birth,"
As if summoned by those words: a swishing whistling noise could be heard by anyone not temporarily turned deaf to anything besides Lan's torrent of word filth dripping out of his mouth like sludge.
Trevor's eyes were dull. Comatose. no hint of any soul in there controlling the slowly moving arm that rose mechanically to catch the object that had been flying towards the appendage as if both were objects that were magnets being drawn together until the hilt of what was obviously some kind of sword made a meaty thwack into Trevor's palm.
Blake blinked at the object in with blaring scrutiny, surprise, and confusion before flicking his gaze towards Cecelia and saying "Isn't that Pokemon one of ours that's being kept in storage?"
Cecelia's took a moment to flick her gaze towards the sword whose origin appeared to be from the medieval era. The dark brown sheathe with curved lines across its surface was being gripped tightly by the long, blue cloth with a swirl design in lighter blue at its four-split ends; this cloth was attached the swords pommel. The reflection off the blade seemed to radiate a with a brilliance that was almost could be believed was out of steely determination. Instead of being positioned in the light just right as part of a visual illusion; whose foundation was sharpened by the look of fury in the gem that had more in common with an eye than just some measly rock engraved on its hilt.
Any competent Trainer or 'mon knew instantly at but a glance that this sword was actually the Pokemon dubbed Honedge.
A very pissed off Honedge.
"How in the hell should I know?" Cecelia snorted as she side-stepped the Arcanine's lunge for her throat after the fool thought she would be distracted by the flames shooting out of his mouth to not notice that he was closing the distance the needed for the spring. At least Cecelia finally got a swipe in. Something that the speed proficient fire hound was making all but impossible. "Traitorous fuck was probably watching the room the entire time. It's possible to see out of those balls you know and that blasted door is always left open."
Well that answers that question. Don't know why it mattered so much at the time; sure as hell doesn't n- hey!" The currently open channel of Blake's mind were suddenly assaulted with mental images:
Pictures like the Honedge smiling fondly at a laughing blond-haired teenage boy with handsome dimples and seemingly no eyes. But had more then enough hair and freckles to fill that void. That same boy from the previous picture challenging a napping Blake to a friendly battle. The boy's mutilated corpse and Blake's evil satisfied grin glinting in the rays of the otherwise very pleasant day in the summer sun.
Now to more recent events when the Honedge awoken from his nap just in time to see that Blake had done something similar to the Mightyena as the butcher had done to his boy.
There were now identical empathetic feelings of grief and blood-boiling rage that radiating off both the Pokémon and the human gripping it's hilt as if it was heat from the most powerful furnace on the planet or outside of it. Those emotions were shallow in comparison to lust for revenge that radiated off of both weapon and wielder.
Blake's jaw and teeth popped just as audibly as the bone of the fingers in his clenched fist. Veins in his neck that normally aren't visible became so during the sheer rage that dimmed his vision. Before the rage forced him into madness: Blake managed to respond to the gift in almost calm tone: "If you want to die with them. Fine. But you do NOT forcibly shove information that is stupid and meaningless down my throat!" During the words of Blake's silent speech: the executioner's guillotine slowly rose silently into position.
Trevor heard and received nothing of this silent exchange. In fact Trevor heard nothing at all. Nor did Trevor did feel the Honedge's sash -known for it's ability to leech off of life energy- wrap around the man turned Panther-human hybrid's massive bicep.
With that tiny, meaningless, almost insignificant act: Trevor felt the large puzzle piece that he didn't even know that he had been missing slide and lock securely into place.
Immediately a violet light began envelope the three lifeforms that were at the epicenter of the light. Meanwhile the slack-jawed spectator's were flung back by the shockwave of the sudden violent power spike. The only ones that weren't blown backwards were Steve, Blake, and obviously Trevor; two of whom had enough intelligence to stab their weapons to root themselves into the floor..
Not even going to comment on the cliche dramatic movie moment. Blake thought for a moment before cursing venomously at himself Shit I just did! Despite the annoyance Blake felt and the sudden shift in the scales of power that made the very air in the room around them clash and spark like colliding metal blades around them: Blake was grinning maniacally.
Blake had every right to smile. After all: it wasn't everyday in his world that the fight just suddenly becomes fair.
The smoke eventually cleared and light dimmed to enough of a throb that the figure standing alone that the epicenter of the blast could finally be made out.
Apparently the lowly weak squire had finally earned his armor and just become a knight in shining armor. As if just suddenly spawned from the wet dreams that made most those of the opposite gender and some men weak at in the knees from a sudden onset of arousal.
Picture every rendition of the description knights of tales of yore. Now take every best features of their armor, melt that down , mold it into the best and most badass scuplture as possible, and spit shine it with the spittle of ever fictional and non-fictional hero in all existence. The result would be Trevor.
The only flaw appeared to be the literal bucket helmet that seemed to be big enough to hold two Trevor heads. This bucket's veil was powerful enough that the face inside was so completely hidden that it wasn't even possible to tell the warriors sex or species was. Let alone to tell whom or what was exactly in the suit. As if the maker had a sense a cruel sense of humor: the helmet shone a engraving mirroring the gem on the hilt of the blade clenched tightly in one of goliath's fist. That was the only feature to the helmet though, No visible place to take the helmet off.No actual eye or gaps for breathing. Just that odd gem
Now throw in a man whose stance and posture radiates self-confidence, bravery, and assurance of victory of battles both in the past and future. All that might as well have been communicated in alien language to a man like Trevor. Well...as long as Steve known him whom knew the guy a good 10 years and Blake whom had butchered enough people to earn the title of 'People Reader Extraordinaire'.
Surprises didn't end there though apparently since whatever power making all of this possible thought it would be cool to add one more seasoning to the armor for effect. So blinded by the knight's brilliant form the rest of the humans and 'mon in the room didn't see the Mightyena's body melt down into midnight black smog-like vapors of smoke. This smoke splashed it's color all over the knight's grey armor, thus giving the heroic icon a sinister edge that was almost as eerie as Blake's own aura.
This wasn't a knight enforcing the romantic views of justice and truth anymore. This was happens to a knight who was dealt with a wound so terrible that this was only the reanimation of a husk filled jagged, infected with decaying rot and blemishes that oozed both pus and blood. Fueled by only one emotional source that kept it from putting it's foot back into the grave where it belonged.
Revenge. Pure, simple, and horrifically ugly revenge.
A image only magnified by the symbol on Trevor's back. A symbol that only Steve cared enough to see: Two white jagged sharp mountain-ish lines that appeared to be the teeth from the maw that was about to consume the crimson heart shaped mark -barely seen with of the darkest of blacks surrounding it- in the direct middle of Trevor's back.
Standing before Blake now was an opponent that would make lesser men call it quits, lope off their manhoods, and flee in terror like the unics they had reduced themselves to. Instead of fleeing however: Blake laughed manically as he violently tore at the bandages around his neck as he rasped out with is actual voice that came out more like a shout in the dead silent room: shocking everyone back into reality.
"Just because you got a upgrade doesn't mean you won't bleed when I cut you, asshole. Just makes the struggle more fun until I finally kill you dead!"
Cecelia groaned aloud with an air of hot tired, exasperation. "You've done did it now. I hate it when the bastard gets like this. Just means trouble for everyone involved." That remark almost cost her a life when Blake suddenly appeared in front of her and slashed in the same downward motion that killed the martyr mutt earlier. An action that just proved how consumed with madness the guy was at the current moment.
Given their love and history however: that strike might as well had never had happened as long as Cecelia was concerned. The Dragonite had in fact, endured and dealt worse blows both physical and spiritual in the span of their relationship.
Still the momentary lapse in judgment did actually happen and it still cut Cecelia pretty deep in more ways than one. Stiller still, considering the tank like armor the dragon's scales provided had parted to slice through tissue less than half an inch deep: it was probably a good thing for everyone involved that it was Cecelia that broke the silence; if anyone else so much a breathed a word at the moment...
Well let's just say they wouldn't have been as lucky.
Meanwhile Steve was asking Trevor all sorts of series of rapid-fire questions ranging from his general well being- to whatever the fuck just happened- back to general well being- then back once again to the 'what the fuck is happening right now!',
That last one was probably on everyone's minds though.
Trevor ignored everyone of them though. In fact Trevor appeared to dismiss Steve entirely like one would eventually a prissy yappy little Chihuahua. This hurt Steve the same way that Cecelia was hurting oddly enough.Was as if both terrifying warriors were on the same wavelength that told them that the heated contest of wills that they were locked in now was more important to them even more so than their loved ones lives or their own.
Steve was the one that thought that little blurb and it terrified him to his very core.
Still Steve didn't have the chance to comprehend that fear when the armored goliath began to walk at a snail's pace; each footstep echoing like gunshots as small spider-webbing craters were left behind with each step.
At the sound of those approaching footsteps: the recognition, calm, and massive amounts of regret that was starting to dawn in Blake's eyes was swallowed whole by the madness and exhilaration once again as he yanked his katana blade free and then used his wounded partner like a spring board.
Yet Trevor didn't raise a single defensive hand, just continued at that snail's paced neutral walk. This somehow increased the eeriness well past the creepy stage. Still fearing that Trevor didn't have a snowball's chance in hell to keep the man busy for very long, Steve wanted badly to help him now...but had his own problems though.
The problem was of course the swarm of enemies that Steve and the hounds had tried to take out before they got wise and combined their attacks into one unstoppable wave. A wave that had then chose to unite and attack in a all-for-nothing blow.
The all powerful force of a single foot soldier and a lone Pokémon. Out of at least a dozen different entities with unique powers of their own: this was all that was left.
You could say that Steve's battle style and powers purpose was to reduce his opponent's mobility and position to nearly nothing while whittling them down with sweet jabs here and there before landing the inevitable killing blow: made him proficient enough at crowd control that taking out large masses of armed enemies was a walk in the park. Add in the unpredictability of a quick weapon changes and you would have a very unpredictable and near impossible force of reckoning. A trick that Steve hadn't needed to show yet thanks to the Origami's three sectional staff form being perfect for this little shin-dig .
Others would say Steve just had mountains worth of close and range combat thanks to the job he had sunk most of his life in and the short stint as a criminal who had to fight tooth and nail just to survive; meanwhile the lazy modern life of a civilian kid just made this match up extremely unfair.
The ever so arrogant Steve would just argue that he was just that good.
In truth. At the end of the day: foot soldiers were foot soldiers and Generals were just Generals. No amount of mathematics and planning could ever bridge the gap of strength that separated them by at least a bottomless chasm.
In the hazy background of Steve's peripheral vision: Leo and Cecilia were going right back at it as well. Oddly enough Steve was rather confident that Leo could handle the Dragonite even without Spike's help and Steve's calls. Call it stupid pride or trust in the hounds battling abilities if you want. It's not like Steve would give one bit of a damn either way. A opinion almost proven as fact as Leo succeeded in taking another piece off of Cecelia's hide before shoving her away to both unsteady the dragon's footing and to parry the Shadow Claw in just a way that the counter attack missed completely..
The Dragon was actually looking kind of wobbly at the moment.
They could actually win this whole thing instead buying time until they see the option to flee if they played their cards right. It only cost the life of a family member. Steve thought with a lot of bitter amusement as he turn to face his full attention on the last of the lackey brigade.
That is until it appeared that Blake had the power to read Steve's mind. "Use Agility you dolt" The man's raspy call might as well have bluncheoned Cecelia with a hammer of Duh; apparently the Pokemon with enough battle experience to move mountains had forgotten all about a move that would have turned the tide and possibly end this fight a long time ago. Well...that's what the resulting face palm had said anyway.
Couldn't possibly get any worse. Steve regarded with bittersweet amusement as he dodged what he could of the Drapion's two poisonous stingers whose strikes moved like bullets. All the while keeping an eye on the idiot that Steve kept belting with well placed magnetic pulse bullets the size and shape of a baseballs every time the bitch got the cute idea of backstabbing Steve while the majority of his attention was focused elsewhere.
Yup Steve had much more control of his magnetism that he let Trevor on. Could have done that neat little trick or something similar and more effective the entire time they were inside the Confagrigus. The reason? Shit's and giggles mostly.
Yes Steve was a bastard like that.
Still with Steve's attention in so many places at once: he was only pushing his luck to it's maximum capacity. No matter how much Steve arrogance made him believe that the various cuts, scrapes, and holes that sung of pain here and there on his body were just flesh wounds there to toughen him up for future battles: that luck that was clearly running out and fast. Especially since 80 percent of the wounds came from those deadly poisonous stingers. The venom that was rapidly spreading to all corners of Steve's body thanks to his desperate fluttering heart rate. A factor that was becoming more and more obvious with each passing moment as the sluggish movements became more common and evident.
That's when the agent's situation got even worse:
With impeccable timing like always: Joey chose this exact moment to hobble through the entrance of the room. Judging from the lasers of fury shooting out of his eyes clearly in Steve's direction: the man had returned solely here so he could repay Steve for the humiliating defeat suffered while waiting for backup to arrive.
A problem that was quickly fixed when a golden blur fell on-top of Joey; whom was immediately swallowed up into the folds of the claustrophobic space of a Confagrigus's insides.
A fear that Joey apparently had. If the screams of pure undulated terror said anything: it was that.
Now if only the Confagrigus could the exact same trick with the mass of reinforcements piling in the hallway...
This however quickly became moot when one then both Drapion finally hit home. Suddenly Steve found himself pinned against the nearest wall by the joints of his arms.
No choice now... time for that move. If Trevor is even still aware in that suit of armor of his and sees me attempting to pull this off...I'm a dead man. Steve laughed hollowly at this deduction for briefest of moments.
The bitch and the purple scorpion assumed that this hollow laughter was the usual madness induced by the fever from venom slowly poisoning the unfortunate man to death. Both caught a sympathetic wave bug of this madness and began laughing somewhat in the lost maniacal way that survivors of a disaster sometimes when they're the only ones of their peers left standing. All of the bodies on the floor weren't even twitching with movement. Most were just knocked out or just bled themselves into unconsciousness. Sure they had multiple injuries ranging from mild to critical but most of the 90% percent of them would live.
The rest wouldn't be so fortunate. They would never move again.
So consumed with their crazy amusement: the pair didn't see Steve bow his head or hear Steve whisper almost inaudibly "Fly...Gami" Nor did they hear the click of the gatling hook make it's home into the hole made exclusively for it. Nor did the pair see Origami melting into a live mass of shape-shifting putty. Nor did the pair sense Gami slowly start rising behind them stealthy like a pissed-off yo-yo shaped cobra. Nor did they hear their allies word of warning.
The pair however did hear the sudden whirling of a saw blade.
But by then it was far too late and the three of them fell to the floor. Steve caught Gami's line and began swinging it like a cowboy would a lasso just before the toss that would wrangle up some domesticated cow or bull. A comparison that wasn't lost on Steve:
"Who wants to be the first cow of this here little rodeo" Steve shouted out in a false southern drawl with a belly deep laugh that sounded more like a roar.
The reinforcements began to flee the building with their tails between their legs.
Steve immediately passed out from the combination of the extremely draining move's cost and the various injuries that were definitely not just flesh wounds. The moment the man's knees hit the floor his fighting costume -fur and all- flew of off him in a mass off lights similar to fireflies
Lets check on Trevor and Blake shall we? And just for funsies, let's start from the top like they do in the movies.
The last time we had seen them: The silent armored goliath was walking at a snail's pace; each footstep echoing like gunshots as small spider-webbing craters were left behind with each step. Meanwhile Blake had morphed into a deadly, maniacal torpedo whose only care in the world had become just how much death and dismemberment he could dish out before he was either taken out or made immobile from pure exhaustion.
The time for these two energies to collide was now.
Being in the position that he placed himself in; Blake had no choice but seize the initiative. with his blade outstretched from his body like it was it appeared that he planned to impale Trevor or whatever defenses he summoned straight through with sheer force and will. Not even seeing the possibility that Trevor was blind to anything besides the darkness inside of his helmet.
Good thing too since that little flash judgement of underestimation would have cost Blake very dearly.
As Blake rapidly ate through the distance: the gauntlet griping the Honedge was preparing to swat down the projectile in a mimicry of any old tennis player. Seeing the blow and it's sloth speed would have made Blake giggle if he had time and lung capacity. So instead Blake was silent as he successfully twisted his body enough to avoid the blade's path by the skin of his teeth. What's more this meant that Blake was flying past his target. A problem that was quickly fixed by quickly using Trevor's gigantic left shoulder blade to stop and right himself.
Leaving Blake in the perfect position to do anything he wanted to the slow moving goliath's backside.
"You're too fucking slow!" shouted Blake in that barking laugh of his, wasting no time with overhead strikes or slashes, apparently deciding a simple stab with enough force behind it would be plenty to break through the black knight's armor. It would have to.
If Trevor's shield didn't blink into existence just as Blake's blade would have made contact.
"What!?" surprise costed Blake precious seconds that could have be spent better fighting against the shield's reflective counter program. Instead Blake found himself looking at what looked like his own blade driven through his right shoulder. The pain didn't even have time to hit before Blake noticed he didn't remember feeling his muscles letting go of Trevor's metallic shoulder.
Genetically engineered superhuman reflexes honed with many days of use took over before survivor's instinct even had a chance to pick up the phone. Meaning Blake had plenty enough time snap the blade sticking out of his chest with fist and perform a barrel roll; leaving the incoming Honedge with nothing to swipe at but empty air.
...at least it would have been empty if it wasn't for Trevor's shield with reflective properties that would make any mirror green with envy.
"HONE!" squawked the blade with a hint of panic as a mirrored counterpart struck back with double the amount of the force that Trevor had applied with the previous strike. Trevor said nothing as he applied the pressure needed to fight back against his own tool. A tool that appeared to be a double edge sword in the right situations. The force of the two energies duking it out activated the backup protocol of the shield moments later; thus creating a shockwave that sent the goliath head over heels at the opposite end of the of the room. The unfortunate object that came into the goliath's path was the building's metal support beams and it did so with heavy screaming clanging noise that made friend and foe alike wince with sympathy. That...and thank their lucky stars and various gods that no one was in wrecking ball's flight path.
That would have left a mess that no sane man would ever want to see.
Poor Trevor didn't even get a chance to recover though since Blake was already on top of him again. As if in reflex the shield blinked into existence again, but the butcher was smart enough to work around it. Dazzling anyone in the room that was watching the fight with a speed that should have been impossible for a mere-human to achieve.
A speed that not even Trevor's shield couldn't match no matter how fast it tried blinking to meet Blake's strikes blow for blow. I guess it was fortunate than that Trevor was wearing that glorious suit of armor.
Armor that Blake could feel give layer by layer the more strikes he landed with his sword.
Until that is both the knights boot's buried themselves with bone crushing force into Blake's stomach; oxygen would be an impossiblity for Blake for at least a half a minute. But it wasn't as if Blake let that stop him before. Nor did feel the slightest bit guilty for clipping one of his subordinates on his way into the metal support beam on the opposite end of the room; which gave Steve the opening he needed to finish that little fight.
Still being forced to endure this much pain from a newbie was really starting to get on become as just as terrifying as the experience was completely and utterly exhilarating. Still Blake was couldn't wipe the Joker-like smile off his face even when he finally saw the Black Knight bull-rushing him in that snail's pace of his to finish the job. The sight of this ludicrous sight made Blake laugh almost hysterically for a moment before finally getting the breath required to raspily shout "Come on then you fuck; I don't have all day! ...still running? Fine. I'll just save you the trouble and come to YOU!"
And Blake did come. All insane 200 hundred pounds of meat,bone, with a touch of steel of him came Trevor with nearly ludicrous speed. Still not a single of the knights muscles twitched nor did he make an attempt to slow the bull-rush into a defensive crawl. Just plowed onwards with the blade Pokemon glinting with malevolent murderous light in hand.
Was only a matter of time that both blades would come down and intercepted each other's path. The resulting explosive shock wave was immense! Powerful enough to send those not involved in pair's fight into the closest wall; the stun didn't last long since they all leapt right back up to continue fighting as if nothing happened.
Not only was there a shockwave but the blades the men were using were flung whistling (one actually screaming various of Poke-worded curses) until they stuck themselves into adjacent walls.
Still the warriors fought on. With punches instead of stabs. Kicks instead of slashes, and head-butts instead of smashing with the butt of their hits. It was as if the pair was expecting this very thing to happen eventually during the whole entire fight.
Still...why did it seem that Trevor's blows -that while still hard hitting with enough force to crack bricks- seem to diminish in force with each blow. As if by losing his sword the knight had was slowly losing his murderous intent and was slowly coming back into himself. Even the color of the suit seemed to be dimming.
Blake had his own problems though. Trying to punch into the suits meaty center was like trying to tear through a tank with his bare hands. A feat Blake accomplished once but that was with both hands pulling at a tiny crack in the tank's armor with all his strength; not likely to happen when Blake had to lash out quick enough to avoid that fucking shield blinking into existence like a strobe light in it's attempt to catch one of his blows to send right back at 'em.
Still the two went at it like a pair of boxer-street fighter hybrids.
Kick,punch,kick, punch, punch, punch, punch, Kick
Block, punch,block, kick, Block,punch,punch,punch
Meaty thwacks and metal clangs respectively.
By now a famliar whistling noise slowly made itself known to fist-fighting pair. While Trevor's right arm was busy automatically reaching for the incoming weapon even before it's warning cry even had a chance to echo: Blake pulled the shield blocking out of his way with his left while drawing maximum power from his reserves in order to deliver one hell of a devastating haymaker right into that stupid gem that appeared- no. was laughing at the silly girly blows he had been reduced to giving thanks that mother fucking sheld! Blake let all of his rage go in that one punch and the nonsensical scream that was torn from his lips "RAAAAH"
The resulting crack of both gem and bone was music to Blake's ears.
Meanwhile the knight caught the sword.
At the expense of his face.
Consciousness.
The match.
and quite possibly his life.
Seeing Trevor's form began to dissipate in a mass of violet lights. Than seeing the Honedge's eye's swirling with almost empathetic-induced unconsciousness. Blake's euphoria and madness gave way to the mixture of terror and rage.
"NO! YOU'RE NOT FUCKING DONE YOU PUSSY PISSANT!" In that quick way of his Blake was by Trevor's side in what would seem to an observer was a few quick steps instead of the 80 or so paces that it took to cross the full length the prisoner bay that had housed the riot. Once that distance was crossed Blake picked up Trevor by his throat with his left hand while beginning to swing violently with the other fist into the soft spots of the man's human body.
Apparently someone taught Blake the best form of first-aid was to smack the injured around until they told you to stop.
ThwackThwackThwackThwackThwackThwackTwack
Blake didn't seem to notice that Trevor was taking all of this without so much as a twitch; a sign that anyone would take that the person was too far gone to simply shake gently awake.
Blake eventually dropped the sack of bone and meat when rationality took hold of him again. "Well that's a shame. I'm still not quite done with you yet though." Blake swept his gaze around the annihilated room. Ignoring the fires that broke out. The broken windows. The holes in wall. The dead and unconscious team members on the floor. As well as any other damages that were of no concern of his.
What Blake was looking for was of course a medic.
But all that was of interest was the two freshly made corpses, reinforcements fleeing with their tails between their legs, and the man waving a saw-like contraption on a solid light-string with the control of a cowboy wielding a lasso. This man was currently bellowing the laugh of a drunken loony. The last prickled Blake's interest considering that the man not only previously taken down his best warrior but also apparently whole mass of foot soldiers down single handedly. Which could quite possibly pushed into a power spike like the knight had been given enough pressure. That's what General's do don't they? Blake and this one lying on the floor were proof enough of that. That and Blake knew a dangerous predator/prey when he saw them and Blake felt that intensity even at this distance.
But before Trevor even hit the floor once Blake dropped him: the man that held Blake's immediate interest dropped to the floor as if they were connected and Blake had accidently cut his line. Damn it!
That word though...connection.
An interesting but odd idea came into Blake's head then. The sheer absurdity of it made him chuckle aloud. Yet Blake still found himself bending down to wrench the Honedge from Trevor's still tightly clenched fingertips. Blake stared at the unremarkable 'mon for a moment before a raspy rumble escaped his throat. "Hey."
Nothing.
"Hey." Blake said a little louder while shaking the thing at the same time.
Blake was in the process of swinging the damned thing against the wall to shock it awake but stopped when the Honedge slowly blinked awake and gave a startled cry of alarm.
"Good. Now answer me truthfully. You two-" Blake pointed with the unoccupied right hand to Trevor then to the sword "-are loosely linked together as long as that sash of yours has it's teeth inside the guy's life force."
The Honedge said nothing but did break eye contact and look away. That's all the answer Blake needed to know that his assumption was right on the money.
"Good. Show him something for me won't you sweet-cheeks?" Blake tapped the blade almost lovingly with two sausage like fingers; causing the poor blade to shiver from both violation and terror. Blake ignored this rude gesture though as he put the blade back into Trevor's palm and wrapped the sash loosely around the guy's wrist and arm.
Was about to walk away when the man's foot thumped against the blade's sheath; Blake stared at it ponderously for a moment before picking it in the pocket that wasn't below a gun sleeping unused in its holster. Now Smiling, the man was now whistling a cheery tune as he began almost skipping away.
Meanwhile the Honedge was doing what he was told to. Not because he wanted to; just that it needed help figuring out what exactly the lunatic was up to. Sadly Trevor was just as stumped as he was.
That is... until both party members saw Blake summon his katana blade when only paces separating the man from Steve's unconscious form; still whistling that cheery tune of his.
Blake had just enough time to twirl his sword around so that the blade was facing down over Steve's still beating heart, turn around, admire the perfect form round house kick whose path just happened to be his head, and raise a quick eyebrow at the glowing pure deep red eyes that both Pokémon and Panther-human hybrid exhibited.
No bloody armor or shield this time at least Blake had the chance to think before Trevor's steel-toed boots slammed hard into Blake's skull. The loud Thrunk and the sound of cracking bone echoing like two very different flavors of fireworks on the 4th of July.
Still Blake was grinning; completely but temporarily consumed in madness and euphoric ecstasy as his body exploded in pain as he was sent head over heels though the adjacent brick wall and out the building.
A yellow blur flew past Trevor so fast that it nearly knocked him off balance before he could land to the floor safely. Trevor could have swore he heard the blur say "Idiot" before disappearing as it made a dive-bomb only something used to flight could masterfully accomplish.
The madman and yellow blur weren't a problem though...at least not until they come back that is.
Trevor dropped down to his knees at his hubby's side; breaking down and hyperventilating as he took in the many wounds ranging from minor and critical. Instinct also whispered that that clear purple substance mixing with Steve's blood was venom that was dissolving more and more of the man's insides with each passing second. All Trevor could think of now was "I-need-the power to help" over and over again; even as Cecilia and Blake returned for Round 2.
Or was it Round 3? Even this storytellers can lose count it seems.
Trevor's eye's transitioned into that deep red again as the spirit that was the Honedge sunk it's teeth slightly deeper into Trevor's life force. Thus wrenching control again and allowing the body spread it's arms wide to surround itself and Steve in a protective barrier that the crazy dragon and katana-wielding psychopath bounced off of like a couple of beach balls.
But they would be back as soon as they recovered from sudden shock of the surprise.
Still it wasn't as if Trevor was twiddling his thumbs during all this craziness either. During the last couple seconds he was able to achieve the calm needed to catch the epiphany that had been trying to make itself known to the deaf,blind, and dumb man that had been swatting at it as if were a measly fly.
"I do have the power to help..." Trevor realized suddenly as his hands began to flicker then glow with bulbs of a sturdy light-green light. Immediately Trevor went to work; ignoring the monsters trying to bash in the locked closet door that was keeping them at bay from the two boys that would have been cowering under their blankets if they had been in their right minds.
Kinda hard for that though when one was unconscious and dying while the other one was being half-possessed by a spirit/helpful demon monster.
Trevor's hand hovered over Steve's body with a look of fierce concentration on his face. Eventually after about a couple minutes: beads of what looked like light-purple sweat began to ooze out of every pore of Steve's body. Once out of the man's body the droplets began to rise out Steve's body until the tap ebbed into a stop and a big blob the size of a softball hovered malevolently in Trevor's palm.
Huh... Trevor had innate healing powers. Who knew?
Trevor didn't seem to care why all these odd powers were manifesting themselves so suddenly though. All Trevor cared about was making sure the man of his life didn't bleed to death after he wasted massive amount of his reserves pulling every drop of poison out. Trevor only managed to finish closing up mostly all of the life threatening wounds so that they were only minor flesh wounds when the first wave weakness hit him like a semi-truck.
No matter how much power the two entities driven by matching emotions and wavelengths yanked out of the reserves of souls not yet ready to handle. All bodies -even this almost classified as super-human, well taken care of, and so solidly built that tanks would blush with inadequacy- had limits it seems.
Trevor bit his already bleeding and swollen lip hard, making the injury worse; but using the pain to power though the wave of weakness.
But it was already too late: The barrier keeping them safe was already crumbling; screeching with a sound akin to shattering glass as it done so . Trevor only had just enough time to half- turn and call his blinking shield into existence before Blake's overhead slash came crashing down with a mighty roar. Trevor didn't think he could do anything else besides hold his shield at it though. Way too pooped. Exhaustion sure had picked prime time show up and be a needy bitch,
That was until a yellow blur danced right behind his guard. There were three things behind Trevor at that moment: a wall, his back, and the man that chose that moment to groan unintelligible words in his sleep.
Trevor only cared about one of those things.
"NO!" Trevor roared as the Fallen Knight took hold once again; this time aiming to behead Cecilia who was taking the opportunity to take down a powerful variable in a balance of power that was in constant shift. Cecelia only had time to lean to the left a little; an action that saved the delicate relationship that her neck had with her head.
The tip of the Dragonite's tail wasn't so lucky.
Cecelia bellowed with woe-be-gone agony. Blake was launched outside once again in an accident that was his own fault rather than an offensive counter-attack made by Trevor's shield: a variable that he seemed be in constant flux of forgetting and remembering about at the last minute. Meanwhile the Fallen Knight picked up Steve and carried him bridal style towards the Confagrigus who had been watching the entire blood bath with an air of wonderment, awe, and shell shocked numbness. Now emotion fractured that numb blankness. During the chaos distrust, caution, and tiny flicker of terror danced like fire in her usually expressionless eyes before saying softly.
"What are you?"
The Fallen Knight said nothing, only continued at a almost snail's pace.
"Are you a Dark One or a Light One. Which is it?"
Still the Fallen Knight said nothing. Right when the Confagrigus had made up her mind at attempting to make a break for it past the slow moving the goliath: she had an epiphany.
"You've been mourning and protecting allies. Knowing that the rest doesn't really matter I suppose." By then the Fallen Knight had stopped and offered Steve's body to her.
"What?... You want me to take him somewhere? Where?"
The Fallen Knight nodded slowly, then tilted his head downward as if inspecting the wounded man in his arms injuries. Took a brief precious moments but the Confagrigus got the message.
"Hospital, like the one at the base?"
The Fallen Knight nodded almost enthusiastically.
"Alright" The mummy still apart of the world of the living was then ejected from her doors in order to make room for Steve. As if sensing that he was free of the confined space: Joey resumed his thrashing with much more desperate vigor like a Dustox trying to escape it's cocoon. Meanwhile the Confagrigus took in Steve and then glanced towards the exit of the room, The hallways past that door echoing loudly with enemy reinforcements. The Confagrigus sighed and turned to face the window that was a few paces away. Express way it its then. Before a thought struck her and made a half turn towards the Fallen Knight "What about you? What will you be doing?"
The Fallen knight half-turned and walked slowly towards the window in the south portion of the room; the one that was closest to the door and the river that ran adjacent to the building. Once the destination was reached he lifted his sword as if challenging an unknown opponent. The meaning of the silent message was clear.
"You're gonna keep them busy while we run away?...that's suicide."
The Fallen Knight's only response was a shrug.
The Confagrigus inhaled and exhaled a tired sigh "You better not die. Steve would kill me again for being too scared to make an attempt to stop you" With that the Confagrigus leapt through the window, not giving a chance for a rebuttal if there was anyone wanted to give one.
The Fallen Knight, the mass of reinforcements sliding into the room, the pissed off Dragonite, and sociopath/psychopath making a return though the north side window sure as hell didn't have one for her.
Without so much as a word nor backward glance of calculation: the Fallen Knight fell through the window. Not to be outdone because that would surely mean defeat: Blake and Cecelia dived bombed after the martyr.
Something that the Fallen Knight apparently planned for since he easily predicted the type of sword swing Blake would use, parried the blow aside with his empty gauntlet hand -disarming the threat in the process- while at the same time spent the last of the two entities strength in a the form of a delicious haymaker with the very same gauntlet that clutched the hilt of the reanimated sword. That finally shoved the bitter taste of defeat down Blake's gullet for the first time in years right before the man fell into the land of unconsciousness as his body was flung from it's mount.
The loyal mount of course had no choice but to adjust its course to pick up it's master before he became a big mess that an unfortunate someone might have to clean up.
Finally spent both entities fell unconscious -Trevor's battle form dissipating in a mass of lights similar to violet fire-flies as they went- just as their bodies fell straight into the bottommost part of the river.
Leon -who awoke, saw what was going on, and made a flash decision- followed Trevor's path just moments later.
In another area a golden extremely durable sarcophagus bounced on once, thwice, four times before reanimating mid-air and making a beeline for the destination that it was ordered to go.
Leon -after another flash decision: he was really good at making those- doggy paddled after the odd Pokémon making tracks in the dirt. Apparently choosing to follow his true master's scent instead of following the master's scary lover's scent; whom probably didn't need a mutt's like him to help anyway...well that's what Trevor always said when Leon had tried to assist him with various different problems in the past anyway.
On the way Leon unknowingly passed the Linoone whom was still clutching the egg to his chest on his way to assist the warrior whom had fallen into the river and had not swam back into the surface yet; despite being under there for at least a couple minutes.
Why would the Linoone risk putting himself and his charge into harm's way to rescue a stranger whose identity or allegiance he wasn't exactly sure of?
Because that's what all heros in his boots would do of course!
Next chapter: https://www.sofurry.com/view/894730