His twin played at silence and Albedo disagreed. Oath-breaker, blood betrayer; terrible and traitorous heart pounding too loud. Again, the weapon felt his attack glance his counterpart, and again, he was pleased. Again, he felt like it wasn't enough. Unlike the other games, this grew worse as it continued, the sense of fulfillment it had offered was slipping away. Because Rubedo still breathed, perhaps. Because that second heart still beat. And he was not allowed to stop its pounding.
Albedo didn't waver when the next shot went off, aimed for his skull but received off-center. The left upper part of his head exploded in a shower of gore and brain matter. Again, sight dropped out, awareness fizzed and darkened entirely. Function of parts of his right side ceased momentarily, and he unwillingly dropped to a knee. It was dark, like unconsciousness made sweet, but it slid away all too quickly; mind regenerating along with matter. There was clarity, for a second, as he stared at the floor on his knees. Clarity and understanding, of this day and every one before it and every one that would come after. Everything fit for a moment, and in that peace, Albedo felt miniscule, insignificant. In that supreme wisdom, Albedo re-found purpose, and he re-experienced fear.
A Song started up again, soft and sweet, heartbreaking and dissonant, to thrash in his skull. It would not falter again. "'His ways are very dark," Albedo murmured. "It may be that the things which we call evil are good, and that the things which we call good are evil. There is no knowledge of anything.'" No... No knowledge of anything but what was, and this... They... had become something else.
Something altogether separate.
He moved to his feet in an instant, and held out his hand, almost apathetic in his resolve at the moment. Crackling blue energy grew at Albedo's fingers and shot out over Rubedo's head, to rain down electricity on his most beloved (most hated). There was no longer any difference.
no subject
Albedo didn't waver when the next shot went off, aimed for his skull but received off-center. The left upper part of his head exploded in a shower of gore and brain matter. Again, sight dropped out, awareness fizzed and darkened entirely. Function of parts of his right side ceased momentarily, and he unwillingly dropped to a knee. It was dark, like unconsciousness made sweet, but it slid away all too quickly; mind regenerating along with matter. There was clarity, for a second, as he stared at the floor on his knees. Clarity and understanding, of this day and every one before it and every one that would come after. Everything fit for a moment, and in that peace, Albedo felt miniscule, insignificant. In that supreme wisdom, Albedo re-found purpose, and he re-experienced fear.
A Song started up again, soft and sweet, heartbreaking and dissonant, to thrash in his skull. It would not falter again. "'His ways are very dark," Albedo murmured. "It may be that the things which we call evil are good, and that the things which we call good are evil. There is no knowledge of anything.'" No... No knowledge of anything but what was, and this... They... had become something else.
Something altogether separate.
He moved to his feet in an instant, and held out his hand, almost apathetic in his resolve at the moment. Crackling blue energy grew at Albedo's fingers and shot out over Rubedo's head, to rain down electricity on his most beloved (most hated). There was no longer any difference.