Burn The Ashes: Taking Action, Part 3

[Taking Action, Part 3]

Lightning screamed past Liltotto's face as she dove through the air, passing close enough to make her skin tingle.

​Her wings flared and she turned to find Candice already winding up for another shot, her arms raised above her head as holy lightning crackled across her skin. The zombie's face was lax and lifeless and completely fucking wrong. Liltotto gritted her teeth, twisting as she lifted a hand.

​“Spork.”

​Her technique slammed into Candice and knocked her through the nearby building. Liltotto had made sure to catch her with the flat edge so she didn't cut Candice in half, but she still heard bones crack as the building collapsed around her.

​Mentally apologizing, Liltotto reeled her weapon back in and turned just in time to catch a gloved fist to her jaw.

​Pain blossomed across the right side of her face and she reeled, falling with the punch as Meninas chased her down. She thanked her luck that Chernabog's necromancy didn't work like Gigi's, because if Meninas had been able to put her full strength into that punch, it might have taken her head off.

​As it stood, Liltotto could already feel her jaw swelling as she darted through the air, ducking underneath a follow-up punch and putting some distance between herself and her monstrously strong friend. Meninas pursued her regardless, skating through the air at a slower pace.

​Liltotto wasn't entirely sure what was stopping them from unleashing their full power; clearly that bastard in the tower was capable of making them use their techniques. She was glad for it, though. It meant she wouldn't have to kill them a second time.

​A cascade of holy power made Liltotto pause. She reached out as Meninas approached, sending a Spife forth to wrap around the girl's waist. Liltotto pulled with all of her might, swinging her friend around and sending her hurtling towards the figure standing on the top of a nearby building.

​A thunderous boom washed over the battlefield as the attack Bambietta had been building landed on the structure underneath them, changing its composition into something horrifically explosive. The two Quincy disappeared in a fiery explosion of holy energy and Bambietta's own power.

​Liltotto took the chance to catch her breath, hovering in the air some distance from the settling debris. She brushed a sweaty lock of hair out of her face. It was hard to lift her arms.

​Not sure I'll even last seven minutes, she thought, remembering what she'd said to Tanya. Her Vollständig was draining her faster than usual, which she supposed she should have anticipated. Nature Energy in the Underworld was harsher than up top, and mixing it with her own took a lot of concentration.

​It definitely didn't help that she was actively trying not to kill the people she was fighting. Pulling punches was exhausting in a way that going all out never was.

​Liltotto glanced back toward the tower, where an intense light flickered through the jagged opening she'd made. Come on, Tanya. Tell me you're almost done over there.

​She didn't have much left to give. Another two, maybe three minutes of this pace and she'd be running on empty. After that, she'd be a target dummy for her friends to practice on. And then she'd be just like them shortly after.

​Dying here would suck, she decided as the smoke cleared.

​Lightning burst from the rubble as Candice lifted herself from the building she'd been buried in, her body twisted at an angle that would have made a living person scream. Candice just snapped her joints back into place and rose into the air, staring at Liltotto with a slack jaw.

​The other two weren't far behind her, and Liltotto's stomach dropped as all three of her friends were back and ready to fight only a few seconds after she put them down. At this rate, she'd have to resort to cutting off limbs. Or eating them.

​Candice groaned and lifted her arms. A literal storm of holy lightning burst from her body, filling the air with the smell of ozone as it grew stronger by the second.

​Liltotto was moving before the girl even twitched. Candice brought her arms down and a bolt of lightning the size of a double-decker bus screamed towards her like the wrath of whatever god she'd managed to piss off.

​Liltotto avoided the blast but felt the effects even as it passed her by. The shockwave alone sent her tumbling, her teeth rattling in her skull as she struggled to right herself. She tasted blood from where she'd bitten something and swallowed a mouthful. Lovely.

​Liltotto soared through the air, making a wide circle as she looked for an angle of attack. Meninas and Candice stared up at her, waiting to attack, but where was...

​“Shit,” Liltotto said as she lifted her head and found her former leader standing a short distance in front of her.

​With a zombie-ish groan, Bambietta lifted a hand and threw an orb packed with power straight into Liltotto's path.

​Fuck, she thought as she tried desperately to alter her course. She couldn't manage it, though. She was going way too fast. Ah, this is gonna suck.

​She closed her eyes, mildly curious about what being turned into a living bomb felt like, and if there'd be enough of her for someone to reanimate.

​Luckily, she wouldn't have to find out as a familiar power washed past her. Liltotto's eyes snapped open and went wide as a cartoonish skeleton made of blue shoved itself between her and the orb. It made contact, and Liltotto instinctually brought her wings in front of her body as the thing detonated.

​The explosion blew her backwards. She spiraled in the air like a leaf in a storm, before her flight was suddenly stopped by something soft.

​A pair of arms wrapped around her body from behind and Liltotto's heart lurched in her stomach as a cheek pressed against her, accompanied by a warm voice: “Guess who~”

​Liltotto relaxed almost immediately, the sense of danger overridden with relief as she realized who had her. “Gigi,” she said softly, falling back into the other girl's grip. “You're alive, huh?”

​“Yup!” Giselle squeezed tighter, her chin resting on Liltotto's shoulder. “I had a little snack and I'm all better now. I'm here to help you out.”

​Liltotto sighed. “I thought you were dead.”

​“You know it's hard to kill me.” Giselle nuzzled into her cheek. “I woke up and you were gone, and then I saw my zombies walking around without my permission and I got so mad, Lili. You know how much I hate it when people touch my things.”

​Despite herself, Liltotto felt a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Yeah, I know.”

​As Giselle's eyes drifted past Liltotto's shoulder to where the three zombie Quincy hovered, her expression curdled and her lip curled.

​“Look what he did to them,” she murmured in a melancholic voice. “Moving my girls around like this. He didn't even do it right. They're all stiff and jerky.” She made a sound of disgust.

​“He's an idiot,” Liltotto agreed absently. “Can you take them back?”

​“Easy peasy.” Giselle released Liltotto from her grip. “We'll get Bambi back first.”

​“She's the most dangerous,” Liltotto agreed, before flying forward alongside her friend. She was running on fumes at this point, but she should be able to help out here.

​Bambietta came at them first, her movements jerky but fast. She wound up another orb of volatile energy, the sphere crackling with barely contained power as she drew her arm back, but Liltotto didn't give her the chance to throw it.

​A barbed ribbon of holy energy wrapped around Bambietta's torso before the zombie could react and Liltotto yanked hard, pulling Bambietta off her trajectory and dragging her through the air. The orb slipped from Bambietta's fingers and shot off into the distance, turning a nearby spire into dust. Liltotto was extremely glad that she wasn't throwing those things around like she usually did.

​Bambietta thrashed against the binding but she couldn't muster the strength to break it and didn't have the brains to try and use her power on it. Liltotto hauled the girl in close, throwing her towards Giselle.

​“Naughty girl,” Giselle chided like she was scolding a misbehaving pet. Blood trailed in thick rivulets from a slash on her arm, staining her pale skin a deep crimson which she then imparted on her friend.

​Blood splattered across the zombie's face, landing on her cheeks and in her hair. For a moment, nothing happened. Then Bambietta's body went rigid, her back arching as a violent shudder ran through her. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, and Liltotto watched in fascination as a sickly, foreign energy bled out of her—dark wisps of shadow that dissolved into nothing as Giselle's own power flooded in to replace it.

​The struggle ceased. Bambietta's body went limp in Liltotto's hold, her head lolling forward before she slowly lifted it again. This time, there was some semblance of intelligence in her undead eyes, and she whispered, “Gigi...”

​Giselle beamed, though the expression was tinged with something dark and twisted. “That's a good girl.” She patted Bambietta's head like one might a loyal dog, and Bambietta leaned into the touch. Like always.

​After that, things were much easier. Candice and Meninas were rounded up and given Giselle's blood and returned to their normal selves. Or well, as normal as necromantic slaves bound to the whim of someone like Giselle could be.

​Liltotto sighed as she deactivated her Vollständig wholesale, feeling utterly exhausted. She dipped in the air and was caught by thin arms before she even had the chance to use Hirenkyaku.

​“We did it!” Giselle said brightly, seeming a moment away from spinning Liltotto around in an act of sheer jubilation. Liltotto's glare told her exactly how that would go, and the girl relented with a giggle but didn't stop hugging her. Tired, Liltotto let her.

​Their friends hovered around them, looking around the Black City with undisguised interest or, in Candice's case, disgust. Liltotto was happy to see it, but mostly she was just tired.

​“I'm hungry,” she said absently as Giselle swayed back and forth in the air. The necromancer giggled.

​“You're always hungry,” she said, blinking sheepishly as Liltotto turned a glare on her. “We'll get something afterward?”

​“Hm. We better.” Liltotto huffed, leaning against her friend a bit harder as exhaustion began to set in. A beat passed, silence filling the air between them, before Liltotto glanced up at Giselle. “You have blood on your lips.

​Giselle smacked her lips like she'd just applied lipgloss, coating them even more. “That's because I drank the little girl's blood,” she said, tapping a finger against her chin. “She got her arm cut off and there was a whole pool of it just sitting there. How could I resist.”

​The mention brought Liltotto up short, as she suddenly remembered the other part of why she was here. And that a little girl was currently wrapped up fighting a god and apparently was missing an arm now.

​“Shit, is she still alive?” Liltotto started, turning toward the tower, but Giselle's grip tightened around her waist.

​“She was fine when I left,” Giselle said, seeming unconcerned. “She healed up her arm faster than I could, so she should be—”

​BOOM

​Giselle's words died in her throat as the top of the tower suddenly exploded like someone had taken a missile to the tip. Black stone was vaporized in a wash of brilliant white flames so bright that for a moment, it seemed like night had turned to day. The pyre erupted upward, a pillar stretching toward the heavens to bring God himself into Hell.

​Liltotto cursed and threw an arm over her face, the afterimage burning itself into her retinas. Behind her, she could hear Giselle doing the same.

​The heat washed over them a heartbeat later, sweltering like a hot summer's day. A fresh sweat broke out on Liltotto's skin. It felt like she was standing right next to a bonfire!

​Then, just as suddenly as it started, it stopped. The pillar of fire disappeared, as did the heat. Liltotto turned reluctantly to find that all that was left of the tower's upper floor was a burning stage, orange flames flickering merrily in the darkness.

​Silence followed the destruction, reigning over the world for a scant moment, before that same world began to shudder and groan.

​Then the ground beneath them shuddered.

​Liltotto watched, transfixed, as the Black City began to break. Hairline fractures raced across the surface of the nearest building, and Liltotto watched as the entire thing simply... came apart. It didn't explode or collapse; it nearly dissolved, breaking down into wisps of black mist that curled upward and vanished into the night sky like smoke.

​“What's happening?” Giselle asked, looking around as the world seemed to come apart at the seams. Entire blocks seemed to fade away into dust in an instant, while others were much slower. One thing was for certain though, it wasn't stopping anytime soon.

​“I don't know,” Liltotto said, though she had a guess. She looked back toward the ruined tower and the flames still flickering around its absent crown. “But I think we should probably go find out.”

*​Six Minutes Earlier*

​Tanya's spear crackled and popped as she slowly circled her opponent, the weapon burning so brightly now that it painted the entire chamber in harsh white, every shadow banished to the furthest corners where they huddled and writhed like living things desperate to escape the light.

​Chernabog himself retreated subtly, taking a half-step backwards and attempting to school his inhuman faces into something not resembling fear. But Tanya had experience in picking up expressions at a glance. He wasn't fooling her.

​“Quite the expression you're wearing,” Tanya observed. She adjusted her grip on the spear, letting the light from her wings intensify another notch. This time, Chernabog flinched. She allowed herself a smirk. “For one who so loudly proclaims his ability to eradicate all of Devil-kind, you seem rather scared of just one.”

​Chernabog's claws dug into the stone, gouging fresh furrows as he shifted his weight. The light from Tanya's wings and spear seemed to push him back. Even the shadows that had once surged at his command now cowered behind him, thin and anemic.

​“You are a fool if you believe a mere light will be your salvation,” Chernabog growled, but the rumble in his voice couldn't quite hide his defensive tone. “I have endured the light of creation itself. I am the dark that preceded the first dawn, the shadow that will outlast the last sunset. You are nothing.”

​Tanya's smirk widened into an almost eager grin. “Then you should have nothing to fear.”

​Her wings flared white-hot as she closed the distance between them in a heartbeat. The spear in her hands sang through the air, its tip leaving a trail of incandescent light as it carved toward Chernabog's chest. The god twisted, one wing sweeping up to block the strike. Tanya's weapon didn't even slow, shearing through shadow and sinew alike.

​Chernabog roared as a gash of burning light opened across his wing membrane, the edges curling and blackening as the light ate into the surrounding darkness. It sizzled and popped, as if trying to repair itself, but it was a slow process. Far too slow to be anything substantial.

​Tanya darted to the left as a clawed hand swiped through the space she'd vacated. She spiraled upward, wings flaring as she reached the top of the room. They flung her down at speed, her spear leading the way. It bit into a meaty shoulder and Chernabog lurched, trying to swing at her again.

​“Stay still!” he snarled.

​“No.” Tanya dipped and glided, putting distance between them as she circled. She forced her breath to remain even, maintaining her control over her own flames even as she looked for another opening. “I don't think I will.”

​She came in again, this time low and from the side. Chernabog anticipated the attack and lunged to meet her, claws extended, but Tanya pulled up at the last instant, her wings folding tight against her body as she slipped between his reaching fingers. The spear raked across his forearm as she passed, leaving a line of burning light that made the god hiss and pull back.

​Tanya hovered at a safe distance, watching him clutch the wound. For a self-proclaimed deity of darkness who had lived for ages, he didn't seem to have any countermeasure toward his own weakness.

​Then again, it was abundantly clear that planning ahead wasn't his strong suit. If it was, he wouldn't be about to die.

​“You know,” Tanya said conversationally, adjusting her grip on the spear as she fed more fire into it, “I feel I owe you an apology.”

​Chernabog's heads snapped toward her, distrust written plainly across both faces. “What game is this?”

​“No game at all. I'm being quite sincere.” Tanya tilted her head, her expression shifting into one of faux regret. “You see, this entire pantomime was entirely unnecessary.”

​She gestured vaguely with her free hand, encompassing the chamber, the tower, the city beyond. “Neither of us truly needed to be here. Had I wanted, I could have simply directed Lord Falbium to point his forces in this direction. Even one of his Pawns would have been more than capable of seeing your little scheme put to rest. His Knight would have managed it in half the time.”

​Chernabog's expression darkened, fury and indignation warring across both faces. The shadows around him flickered and pulsed, agitated by their master's anger. “You truly are arrogant. Are you so sure in your victory that you would gloat to my face?”

​“One good turn deserves another, doesn't it?” Tanya asked, lifting her spear and running a finger along its burning edge. “Though unlike you, my bark is backed by quite a bit of bite. I could have crushed this little insurgency without lifting a finger myself. Just a letter and a signature; that's all it would have taken to put an end to the great Chernabog.”

​She side-stepped as a tendril of shadow lunged for her throat. Her wings flared and the shadow recoiled, withering. A sweep of her spear sent a wave of flame scattering across the stone floor, kicking up a spray of cinders that made the darkness retreat further.

​Tanya looked up at the massive god, who seemed utterly livid and a moment away from rending her with his claws despite the light driving him back.

​“But alas, I worry that would not get me very far with the Devil Nobility.” she continued as if nothing had happened. “You see, I'm good at administrating, but the current political climate demands a bit more more... hands-on experience. Assuming one wants to rise above their station.”

​Chernabog lunged. His body became a wall of shadow and claw, surging forward with enough force to crater the floor beneath him. Tanya lifted her free hand, a magic circle spinning to life in her palm.

​A veritable sea of flames was given life by her magic. It wasn't quite as bright or luminous as her wings, but it was more than enough. Chernabog's claws raked across her barrier of flame and came away blistered and steaming.

​As he recoiled, Tanya twisted her fingers, altering the spell's composition with a thought. Her flames transformed into living vines of phoenix fire that wrapped themselves around the dread god like adamantine chains, binding him to that spot.

​“You see,” she continued as the god writhed in her grip. “If I truly want to earn the respect of my peers and the title of Asmodeus, then I must prove my strength. A Satan must be able to inspire as well as lead, and the notion of following a child's orders is laughable at best.”

​Tanya's point had been proven several times over the last several years. Devils respected power in all forms, and though she may have had the political sway as a Phenex, her personal feats were less than impressive. Certainly, she could intimidate the rogue element or two into stepping into line, but she shouldn't have to. Her presence should inspire loyalty through fear and or admiration, and right now, she was failing both.

​“But if I were to rid you of your life right here,” Tanya pointed her spear at Chernabog's chins. “If I were to rid the Underworld of this threat, to avenge the noble you so callously slaughtered with my own hands? That would impress some very powerful people. People I'd very much like to have on my side.”

​Her words hung in the air between them for a long moment. Chernabog stared at her, the only sound in the room coming from his sizzling flesh and the crackle of her own fire burning into his flesh.

​And then, he laughed.

​The sound filled the chamber, vibrating through the stone, through the air and Tanya's bones. The vines of flame around him flickered, and she fed them more power.

​“Perhaps,” he said, and both his faces wore something that might have been approval on a being less monstrous, “you, unlike the rest of your kind, have not forgotten your roots.”

​The vines cracked. Tanya poured even more power into them, but Chernabog's body was changing, expanding as he drew the darkness inward. The shadows that had cowered in the corners of the room were pulled toward him like water down a drain, then the walls themselves began to shed darkness. The very stone seemed to bleed black, and Chernabog drank it all in.

​“Yes...” Chernabog's eyes locked onto hers, glowing intently. “You still hunger. I can see it. The ambition. The relentless, gnawing need to climb and place yourself above your lessers. All of your kind used to be like that, little Devil, before they grew comfortable. Before they forgot what it meant to be what they are.”

​He was enormous now, easily dwarfing his earlier height more than twice over. His heads brushed the ceiling, and his body filled the space as if he was darkness itself, the light from Tanya's wings reduced to a stubborn candle against a starless night.

​“Prepare yourself, for I will not submit so easily!” Chernabog roared in an echoing voice. Stone dust rained from the ceiling and cracks raced through the floor as his power filled the chamber like water in a fish tank.

​Well, she thought, watching the god rear up to his full, terrible height. This complicates things.

​Her wings burned hot, but the light that had once sent him reeling now barely reached the edges of his form. He'd absorbed his own weakness—pulled the shadows so deep into himself that they formed a buffer of darkness so thick that her light couldn't pierce it.

​Clever. Far more clever than she'd thought him capable of.

​Chernabog stomped forward and Tanya was surprised by his speed. The first swipe came fast enough that she barely twisted away in time. Claws the size of her body raked through the air where she'd been, and the shockwave alone sent her tumbling. She caught herself with a beat of her wings, righting herself just in time to dodge a massive fist that cratered the floor where she'd hovered.

​She darted toward the ceiling, hoping to reorient herself. As she did so, a leathery wing swept across the chamber, a wall of darkness that Tanya had no choice but to meet head on.

​Her spear blazed bright, the light cutting a thin path through the shadow just large enough for her to push her way through. She burst through the other side with her teeth clenched and her muscles burning, but she didn't escape unscathed as a claw caught her across the back, sending her spinning through the air.

​She could feel his power working its way into the gash, seeking to undermine her own strength. Phoenix fire rushed to seal them, but slower than she liked. The shadows were fighting her regeneration.

​She had to focus on the marks to burn them away, flushing the darkness from her system in the process. It cost her, though, much more energy than she could afford to waste right now.

​Chernabog came at her again, and this time Tanya didn't move out of the way completely. She jerked hard to the right, letting a stream of shadows pass her by, and then threw herself at his center mass. Her spear extended, growing longer as she fed power into it like a hose aiming to fill a lake.

​Her spear grew and grew, quickly morphing into a lance of concentrated flames so bright and intense that it may as well have been crafted by the concept of fire itself. She aimed it directly at Chernabog's chest, seeking to end it in a single blow.

​She expected Chernabog to dodge or put up some kind of shield, yet the god did nothing of the sort. Instead, he smiled. His wings and arms opened wide, as if to welcome her, but only on first appearance.

​His true desire was made clear as shadows danced along his wingspan, quickly gaining form and bursting forth as a flat, crescent-shaped edge of darkness that jutted outward just as Tanya closed the distance. She had no chance to pull back, trapped on all sides by Chernabog's intent.

​No choice but forward, then. Tanya made the decision in an instant as the blade approached. She twisted her body mid-flight, turning her torso just enough that the shadow blade caught her side rather than her center. It carved through her like a hot knife through butter, parting flesh and muscle and grazing the edge of her ribs. Blood sprayed in an arc behind her, and the pain was so sharp and so sudden that her vision whited out for a fraction of a second.

​But her spear found its mark. The blade punched into Chernabog's chest, sinking deep into the mass of shadow and flesh. Tanya let go of the shaft and left it there, embedded to the hilt in the god's body, and used all of the strength in her legs to kick off his chest and throw herself away from him.

​Her shoes skidded across the stone floor as she fell back to the edges of the room. Her hand pressed against her side, and she felt the warm gush of blood between her fingers. Her flames were already working at repairing the wound, but it still hurt like hell in the meantime.

​Though, it was certainly better than what her opponent was about to experience.

​The god stared down at the spear embedded in his chest with an expression that was difficult to read. Tanya knew that from so close, he could feel its composition, its power, its instability. Now that it was inside of him, there was nothing he could do to stop what was coming.

​Tanya watched as Chernabog slowly raised one massive hand and wrapped his fingers around the shaft of the spear. He didn't pull it out, though that wouldn't have made a difference in the outcome. And it seems he knew that.

​“You've won,” he said, his faces twisting in angry resignation.

​“So it seems,” Tanya said, the flame on her back flickering as she focused on healing her wound. Chernabog glared at her, and a sudden wave of power burst from his skin, washing over her before she had time to blink.

​Tanya withheld a gasp. It felt as if she'd been dunked into a tank of cold water, or perhaps more akin to being dropped into the middle of the ocean. Something oppressive and far too vast to comprehend tickled the edge of her consciousness, telling her in no uncertain terms that she was lesser in every way.

​W-What is this, she wondered, unable to move. She was forced to watch as Chernabog's heads turned in sync, his crimson eyes glowing against the void of his body.

​“Yes... You may have won today, Devil, but know this...” Chernabog pointed a clawed finger at her. The shadows around him pulsed, and for a moment, the presence seemed to grow larger still. “I will be victorious in the end. Not today. Perhaps not for an age. But your ambition shall take you to places where nothing but my darkness may reach. And when you arrive, I will take my sweet time enacting my revenge.”

​His voice dropped further, and something in his tone shifted. It echoed hollowly through Tanya's head, filling the gaps of her consciousness with something unknowable.

​“Child of the loom; you will know no peace.”

​The words settled over Tanya like a shroud; she was caught in that single moment in time for an eternity, forced to listen to her offered fate again and again and again.

​Then the spear detonated.

​Like a star brought down into earth, blinding light erupted from Chernabog's chest as her spell unraveled, consuming the god entirely. ​The blast wave hit Tanya, lifting her off the ground and hurling her through the air like a leaf in a hurricane. She only stopped when she hit the wall.

​Stone crumbled around her. Heat washed over her body, searing and immense, and the last thing she saw before the light consumed everything was Chernabog's form being unmade from the inside out—his flesh peeling away in layers of shadow that dissolved into nothing as the light ate through him.

​The explosion tore upward, a pillar of white-hot flame punching through the ceiling and into the sky, visible for miles in every direction. The Black City trembled at its foundations as the fire climbed higher, a beacon in the darkness in the literal sense.

​Tanya lay in the rubble, her wings curled around her body, the wound in her side healed but many more accrued from her little tumble.

​She slowly opened her eyes, blinking against the afterimages scorched into her vision. The chamber was gone; the ceiling and walls had simply ceased to exist. She lay on a platform of cracked stone, open to the night sky above, orange flames flickering merrily around the edges where the fires were eating through the last of the rubble.

​And where Chernabog had stood, there was nothing. Not even ash remained of the god. A void in the center of the platform where the stone had been scoured clean. Just a smooth, flat surface, as if the god had never been there at all.

​Tanya lay there for a long moment, staring at the empty space. Her chest rose and fell with labored breaths, and every inhale sent a spike of pain through her side where the shadow blade had nearly bisected her.

​Child of the loom. He was the second being to call her that. What did it mean? Could it refer to her constant reincarnations? Or perhaps some greater destiny that only beings of death were privy to. She had no clue, nor did she have the brain capacity to worry about it at the moment.

​She closed her eyes, Chernabog's final words echoing in her mind.

​“You will know no peace”

​“That's fine,” Tanya chuckled to the empty air, feeling the by-now familiar tingle of holy power approaching. “I never expected any.”