Finding Redemption
Chapter 29: The Veil Is Pulled

A/N: Reuploading the chapter to let you guys know that I will not be updating anything for a while. I'm in the middle of a deployment, so it'll be a good while before I can get around to putting out any new chapters. I'll post updates in my forum when I get the chance. Thanks for the support you guys have given this fic so far. Later.

Death reigned in the empty space above their heads as a hail of magic bullets flew by overhead. Luke barely had the time to register what was happening when he suddenly stood, throwing the devil arm before his body. The white streams that were the deadly bullets came at him from the entrance of the woods, rebounding from the terrifying surface of the almost living sword. It was a grave mistake that Luke wouldn’t make any time soon – a bloody hole quickly formed in his shoulder. Time slowed to a crawl. Luke couldn’t believe what he had exposed himself, banking on tracking the bullets back to the God General. The tree whose roots he slid down to was giving him a bit of cover, if only to slow the magic bullets – the deadly projectiles still dug their way through the bark.

He knew that Regret was a deadly professional; all the God Generals were deadly in their own right, but there was a reason why she was Van’s right hand woman. Lowering her weapon ever so slightly, she moved into the woods, exposing herself, ripping the makeshift camouflage from her body. Underneath, she wore the torn remains of her normal outfit. Her blonde hair was in a horrible mess, dirt and twigs staining the otherwise bright coloring of her strands. She moved cautiously, knowing that she had the advantage in range – if he made a move now, she would hear him and that would be the end of his tale.

“Hiding here is pointless. You will not escape with your life. You have no hope.”

Luke bit down on his lip, tasting the sweet copper coating them as he cautiously peeked his head around the bark. She was moving in his direction – unsure of his exact position. He shot a look at Tear – or at least, where she used to be. He let out a low growl. She was long gone – leaving him alone to deal with Regret.

‘Fine…I’ll beat her myself.’

The desperate teen moved with the speed of a prey who knew it was about to be cornered – the heavy, torn jacket slipped off his shoulders easily enough. He stood, rearing the jacket back. She quickly reacted, firing at the first sight of it – the shot startled Luke, breaking his concentration only slightly as he threw the jacket towards the thick grass where Tear once hid. He took off to the other side as bullets riddled it.

The distraction didn’t last nearly as long as he’d hoped.

Luke was overly confident on his plan that he didn’t anticipate Regret’s eyes landing dead center on him. His instincts slowed and for a moment, he’d forgotten entirely about the concept of diving into hiding as white sparks were flung from her flesh – she’d released the dormant fonons from her body.

“Oh, crap,” cursed Luke, realizing just how bad of a position he was in.

“O Fragments of Lights, strike thy enemy,” chanted an angry Regret, her lips reciting the words very quickly as her prey jumped into a dive. But it was already too late. She stomped her foot to the wet floor, surrounding herself with violent fonons as she channeled her dormant energy to her fon guns, a bright light surrounding the once silver barrels. Unleashing the energy, she thrust both firearms in his direction.

“This ends now! Prism Ballet!”

Luke was quite fit, and not even he could completely avoid being hit by the massive blast that followed. As soon as he dropped to the ground, he let out a cry of pain as his exposed back burned. It took a considerable amount of effort to even find the will to start low-crawling towards the next tree trunk – it was as if a burning inferno had covered his back. The devil arm had faded from existence. He knew that Regret would descend upon his position immediately. Getting behind the tree in the distance was the only way he was going to survive this ordeal.

He heard the blonde brute let out a growl as he managed to pull himself out of sight, his burning back sliding against the tree trunk. Then Luke saw the true extent of Regret’s Prism Ballet – the grass and trees that were caught in its blast were wiped out.

An idea came to his mind then.

Grunting, Luke staggered to his feet, bringing out Nebilim. “How about some of this?” he boldly announced, slicing the devil arm through the tree – the sword was more than willing to slice through thick material, almost as if it fed on was little it swiped through. By virtue of luck, the tree tipped towards Regret’s direction and fell.

There was a huge thud as the large tree slammed against the ground.

He heard the distant coughs of Regret – she was still on her feet. He had hoped she was at least disoriented as he hopped up on the fallen tree, running down its trunk. Surprisingly, Regret was doing more than standing – she held onto her weapons, though she staggered a little. The God General hadn’t been able to fully escape the falling object. It was the perfect opportunity to strike. He quickly closed the distance, taking a leap of faith off the tree, blood-colored sword raised above his head.

“You!” Regret had regained her senses enough to attempt a shot.

The small shot whizzed past his head – she would not get another shot off in time.

The massive sword descended upon her.

The poor God General dropped to one knee.

“Son of a-“ growled Luke as he avoided having his head blown off. She parried him – albeit sloppily, but she was still very much capable of fighting. The force of his blade knocked the other gun out of her hand, but now he was the one at her mercy. He felt her elbow as she tried to stand – ignoring the blow, she grabbed her wrist, fighting to wrestle the gun from her.

His stomach reeled in pain, and he felt her knee pull back for another round. He tried to block the approaching attack with one arm, and was partially successful. But now she had a free hand and wasn’t averse to using it to grab his wrist, twisting it. He let out a painful grunt as she tripped his legs, dropping him on his back.

A foot stamped against his chest, preventing him from moving.

“No more games!” a bloody Regret grumbled, thumbing the trigger.

Luke swallowed. He knew that it was almost hopeless to continue fighting and he began to prepare for what was almost certainly the last moments of his life. There were many times when he faced death before – ever since he was transported from his cozy little life of ignorance, he was always faced with these situations. It wasn’t something that one grew used to – now was no different. Fear was the first emotion he felt – it quickly became the most dominant, replacing his thoughts with his last moments.

He had surrendered to the inevitability that his life was over.

Swift as lightning, a pair of arms snaked around Regret, restraining her body, pulling her back. She struggled, but her efforts were of little use.

Tear maintained a strong grip on her.

Or so she believed.

It was often said that the master would often train the student in everything they knew. When it came time for master and student to apply those skills in combat against one another, it was often a spectacle of the student showcasing how much they’ve learned from the master. But, most of the time, the student would be dominated by the master, who has much more experience with their own techniques, and thus, able to apply them more efficiently.

The case was not so different for Regret and Tear.

The hold was strong enough to hold most normal people – but for Regret, breaking out of the hold wasn’t too difficult. Momentarily forgetting that she had dropped her second gun, she took hold of Tear’s wrist. Tear reacted quickly – quicker than Regret had expected – and tightened her hold over her throat.

It did little good.

Within a moment’s instant, Tear was flipped over Regret’s back.

Luke was on his feet by then, sword in hand, and was in the midst of a powerful swing. “Now, die!” he roared, to the blonde’s awe, as the sword slammed into her side, sweeping her off the ground and launching her quite a few feet. He stumbled to the ground as Regret was slammed against a tree, her body dropping to the grassy plains hidden from sight.

The adrenaline began to wear off – he could feel every bone in his body aching, crying for a moment to rest. His heart pounded against his chest, pumping rapidly now but gradually slowing down. He took in a deep breath and rose, one foot at a time. He wasn’t satisfied that he won. His feet dragged as he grabbed his side. Tear was just now coming to her senses, sitting up. He knew she was staring at him, but right now, he could’ve cared less. “The blade didn’t cut her,” he said, peering over the grass.

There she lay. Regret the Quick, lying painfully in the grass, agony clear in her eyes. She was curled into a ball – he suspected that she was hurt extremely badly, to be in this state. And yet, in spite of this, seeing her suffer like this, he couldn’t bring himself to really care about her situation. A voice in his head told him to finish her off, to end it before she had a chance to inflict harm on him once more.

And he was content to listen.

Luke brought out the sword once more and stared at it peculiarly. “Maybe you can actually kill her this time,” he coldly said to the blade, raising it over his head. Regret’s eyes were immediately on him, fear registering in her eyes.

Fear…and utter, angry, unfathomable defiance.

The look irritated him. It downright pissed him off.

He swung the blade-

“That’s enough, Luke!”

The sword landed harmlessly in the grass near Regret's head, Luke distracted by Tear’s voice. “What the hell?” he asked. “If I don’t kill her now, she’s just going to come after us later.”

Tear shook her head. “That’s enough…killing her isn’t going to solve our problem, Luke. Do you even recognize where we’re at?”

The cogs turned in his head. “You think she knows? Tear, I don’t like this – she’s the enemy.”

“That doesn’t mean you can kill her in cold blood,” she said softly, hoping to avoid sparking an argument as she passed by him.

“She was going to do the same thing to us. Why not do it back to her?”

Tear looked to him, into his eyes. She studied his gaze, a frown descending upon her face. Her jaw parted in surprise, as if she could not believe the words that came out of his mouth. She was truthfully left speechless. “It…it’s just not right,” she said.

Luke blinked for a second, trying to push away the anger that had overcome him. He’d never said things like that before – he never wanted to kill a person as much as he had right now. The feeling of ending a life…of making a person suffer before their eventual end…it filled him with a sick kind of joy.

And it scared him.

He wanted to kill Van, yes – he wanted to kill that bastard for what he did to Mary. But that wasn’t for joy – thinking of killing his right hand woman…that almost brought a twisted grin to his face. He shot a look at Tear, raising an eyebrow, then frowning. “What the hell…is happening with me?” he asked, confused. “…I don’t understand.”

Tear sat there, blinking. For once, she had nothing positive or negative to tell him. The words that came from his lips were not from the Luke that she knew – not even the one whom she was fighting.

It was cold and dim here, the flicking light of the candle sitting in the far corner of the small jail cell, teasing him. If not for the shackles pinning his arms to the wall, he’d have blown out that irritatingly bright light. At a moment like this, he preferred the darkness – he didn’t want to see anything in this dark cell, where nothing was maddening silence awaited him.

He stared hard into the room beyond the jail cell. The sight of a desk there, with a book shelf, made him angry, and he didn’t understand why. Perhaps it was the situation he suddenly found himself in, coupled with the aches in his arms, in his legs, or hell, in his whole damn body. The passage of time was lost here – for all he knew, a lifetime had passed since he was transported here against his will.

With a heavy grunt, he planted the soles of his bare feet against the wall he stood against, using the leverage to try and force the thick shackles from the wall. It had become a daily ritual – or least what he could conceive as daily – to try and force his bonds from the wall, little by little. His sore wrists ached as his grunts grew louder.

He felt the iron cuffs cut into his wrist, but showed little reaction. His eyes closed instead, acknowledging the pain. He bled. The wet liquid trailed down his arm, but he would not stop. Not until he exhausted himself.

“You still haven’t learned, have you?” said a disturbingly similar voice as the lights came on, temporarily blinding him.

Rounding the corner, an almost angelic face appeared in front of the jail cell. The well-endowed body it belonged to stood in a seductive pose. But the woman was no angel for him. She was the embodiment of darkness. A smile spread across her lips, her devilish eyes peering at him. “Now you’ve cut yourself. You won’t do me any good if you’re wounded now,” she said, opening the cell. “My poor dear, don’t you understand how valuable you are?”

“I have no intention of being your pawn, Nebilim,” he spat out.

“Don’t be like that,” she pouted, touching his wrist. “I’m trying to make this as painless as possible.”

“Then perhaps it would be in your best interest to set me free.”

She pulled her hand away, the healing process complete. Gelda examined her fingers, looking at the blood. She grinned, and then licked them clean. “Then you would run away. Then my fun would be over. That’s hardly fair. Your time will be coming soon enough, though. Don’t you worry, Van. You’ll fulfill your use soon enough. I just want my dear Luke to come back.”

Van narrowed his eyes. His unkempt face twisted in disgust.

“I sure do wish you two hadn’t met yet, though I must thank you for getting rid of that girl. She was in my way,” Gelda told him, pressing her warm lips to his cheek. “You should be grateful, I’m generous enough to feed you some food now. It is a shame that the little child wouldn’t accept my hospitality.”

Anger flashed through Van’s eyes. “What have you done to Arietta?”

Gelda simply smiled. “For a man who lied to the people who served under him, you sure are concerned about them. Maybe they’ll be spared in the long run,” she said, leaving the cell, ignoring his threats. “I’ll bring you the food you desire, Van. And you will eat it, even if I have to shove it down your throat. Now, be a good boy.”

“Damn abomination!”

“For a man who created a replica himself, you sure are cold. And yet you want us to take over the world after you destroy humanity. I appreciate the thought, I really do. I’ve always wanted to rule the world.”

“You will not even make it into the new world.”

“Bold words,” she told him, exiting the cell and shutting its cage door behind her. “However, where you stand, I could easily drain your essence. I would learn some manners if you wish to bring about this world without the Score.”

Van grew tight-lipped.

“That’s better. Now, be silent.”

She climbed up the flight of stone steps, grinning. Even though the house she’d inhabited was almost empty and eerily silent, the extravagant decorations, from the candles on the walls, to the various pictures of nobles from around the world, to the expensive carpet she’d brought in, helped to give this place a feeling of being home.

Gelda strolled into the kitchen, pleased with such an accomplishment. She never imagined how easy it would be to commission a home like this in such a short amount of time. A faint glimmer of sadness ran through her heart, though. She had hoped that Luke would be here. But now wasn’t the time to get depressed about his disappearance, not when she had the so-called ‘immortal’ Van locked away in her basement.

Opening the refrigerator, she reached in and started grabbing whatever looked delicious.

“Well, well…I did not expect to be having a guest here,” she said, the hairs on the back of her neck standing. “Pretty impressive, sneaking into my home without making a sound.”

She turned, glancing at what appeared to be a fog of miasma. Frowning, she stared at it for a long moment. “So, are you going to show me your true form, or are you just going to float there? It’s annoying.”

“You shouldn’t exist in this world,” the fog replied, its voice feminine. “I’ve never liked you…not since we met. I should pay you back for what you’ve put me through.”

Gelda’s head turned slightly. “I’m sorry? Do I even know you?” Then her expression turned foul, a cruel grin spreading across her lips. “Come to think of it, how are you even speaking to me, monster?”

“The only monster here is you,” growling the fog, thickening.

“Miasma doesn’t affect me, I’m afraid. So, would you kindly form into something I recognize?”

“Hmph,” came the annoyed reply as it shifted its gaseous shape.

Skin coloring, hair, eyes, clothes – the fog manifested into human form before Gelda’s eyes. The white-haired replica whispered in surprise and then regained her known smirk. She crossed her arms, smacking her teeth. “Well, well, seems that we aren’t the only ones who have secrets. I figured you were long dead. Indeed, it has been a while.”

“What have you done with Luke?” the woman replied.

“Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps you should ask my prisoner. He fought with Luke last. Of course, that resulted in Luke disappearing and his poor, soulless girlfriend being gutted. It’s troublesome.”

“You don’t even have a heart.”

“Oh, but I’m crying underneath,” Gelda said, turning back to the refrigerator, digging. “Unless you intend to fight me, why not talk with your friend. I’m sure he could use the pep talk.”

“As a matter of fact,” Gelda’s guest drew out a sword, her cold eyes on Gelda. “I think I’ll do the world a favor and get rid of you.”

Gelda let out a short chuckle. “Get rid of me? You know, my dear Cantabile, it’s funny you should say that,” she said, closing the refrigerator. “Van seemed to want to do the same thing to me. Funny how you dogs in the Order bark the same thing, but have no bite.”

“Oh no, I’m not going to bite you,” Cantabile said. “I’m going to maul you!”