Chương 25: Forget Me Not

Medusa writhed on her throne. Her fingers dug into the arms of the seat as her body shook. Tears streamed down her face, and her breathing came in uneven gasps.

"Stop it," she whispered. The memories would not quiet. The ballroom. The blood. Vanitas. Cyrus. The name she could no longer reach.

"Stop it." She grabbed at her blonde hair, pulling until her scalp burned.

"Why can't all these thoughts just disappear?" Her voice cracked. Then she froze. Slowly, her trembling hand reached into her robe.

"That's it," she whispered.

"I just need to do that again." She pulled out a small mirror. Her right eye began to glow. The Philosopher's Eye. The magic symbol within it sharpened as she focused her power into the glass.

"Status Ailment active." Her lips trembled.

"Forg—" The throne room doors burst open. A blue bullet shot across the room and struck the mirror in her hand. The glass shattered. Medusa gasped, staring down at the broken pieces scattered across her lap. The Doctor stepped into the throne room. Jackpot stood behind him, one crystal pistol still raised. Labyrinth lingered near the door, half-hidden behind the two of them. The Doctor's plague mask turned toward Medusa.

"Are you really going to lobotomize yourself again with that disgusting eye?" His voice was cheerful, but beneath it rested something unmistakably cold. Disgust. Medusa's hand shook over the broken mirror. The Doctor tilted his head.

"Do you even remember your original name?" Medusa went still.

"My name?" Her breathing quickened.

"It's Medusa." She paused.

"No…" Her visible eye widened.

"That's not it. That's the name of my constellation." Her fingers curled against the shattered glass.

"It's…" The room felt suddenly too large.

"It's…" Her voice broke. The Doctor watched her struggle for a moment. Then he bowed.

"Would you like us to handle the intruders, my lady?" A smile hid beneath his mask.

"We would be more than happy to." Medusa clenched her jaw. For a moment, she looked as if she wanted to refuse. Then her shoulders sagged.

"Fine." The Doctor straightened.

"But do not kill them," Medusa said quickly. Her hands trembled in her lap.

"Please."

"Of course." The Doctor's voice turned almost gentle.

"I remember how much Cyrus means to you." Medusa flinched.

"Even if you cannot remember your own name, it seems those attachments remain." He chuckled softly. Medusa looked away. The Doctor turned toward the young girl near the door.

"Labyrinth." She stiffened.

"Do we have anyone currently available who can enter through her barrier?" Labyrinth looked down, thinking.

"Anyone from the Seventh Era or this current era only, please," The Doctor added. Labyrinth fidgeted with the sleeve of her raincoat.

"Um…" She began counting quietly under her breath.

"All of Greed Squad is too old. Envy Squad is too destructive for this mission." The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. Jackpot lowered his pistol slightly.

"Gluttony Squad is preparing for the Lævateinn mission," Labyrinth continued.

"Wrath Squad is busy. Lust Squad are all from the Fifth Era, so they're too old." The Doctor waited patiently.

"Pride Squad are either too old or noncombatants," Labyrinth said.

"And my fellow Sloth Squad members are prohibited from field missions." The room went quiet. Then Jackpot sighed.

"It's fine." The Doctor looked toward him.

"Bring out Jupiter," Jackpot said.

"She's chaotic, but manageable." Labyrinth's eyes widened slightly. The Doctor chuckled.

"Manageable is a generous word." Jackpot shrugged.

"She can enter the barrier, and she can fight." The Doctor looked back toward the throne room doors.

"Then Jupiter it is." Medusa sat silently on her throne, broken mirror pieces scattered across her lap. The Doctor bowed once more.

"Rest, my lady." His voice was smooth.

"We will keep your guests entertained." Meanwhile, the group continued fighting through the servants. The headless maids moved in perfect silence, their weapons swinging with brutal precision. Axes split the floor. Arrows cut through the air. Spears thrust from every direction, forcing Noah and Ava to keep moving while Adam held back the larger groups. Cyrus raised his hand.

"Listen up." Ice formed around his fingers.

"Black Mist constructs like these all have a core in their chest." One of the maids rushed toward him with a sword raised. Cyrus stepped aside and drove a frozen spear straight into its torso. The maid froze. Then its body collapsed, dissolving into a thick black puddle across the floor.

"Destroy the core," Cyrus said, "and they become useless." Noah nodded and rushed forward. Golden circles flashed beneath his feet as he used Royal March to close the distance. He drove his sword through the chest of another maid, darkness burning through the core inside. The construct melted instantly. Ava moved beside him, sliding under the swing of an axe before driving both daggers into another maid's chest. A yellow pulse flashed from her hands, locking the construct in place long enough for Noah to finish it.

Adam flicked his wrist. His spear shot forward, piercing through the chests of three more maids and pinning them to the wall before they collapsed into black sludge. Cyrus continued speaking as if this were a lecture instead of a battle.

"Very rarely, people are blessed by the Black Mist and gain the ability to use its power." He formed another ice spear.

"They replace their own blood with Black Mist." Ava knocked an arrow out of the air with her dagger.

"That sounds disgusting."

"It is," Cyrus said.

"But useful." He hurled the spear through another construct.

"Golem creation is one of the hardest techniques. Controlling the Black Mist well enough to give it shape, purpose, and obedience is nearly impossible without proper mastery." His eyes narrowed.

"Unless you have the Black Book assisting you." The last of the maids charged. Noah stepped forward and raised his sword.

"Sunlight." Golden rings formed around the blade. The maid's axe crashed against it and was repelled backward. Ava appeared behind the construct in the same instant, piercing its core with both daggers. It dissolved at her feet. The ballroom fell silent again. Only black puddles remained where the maids had stood. Cyrus adjusted his glasses.

"We call people who can control the Black Mist King Candidates." Ava glanced toward him.

"When we fought, I saw you bleed black." Cyrus went still. Ava wiped her dagger clean.

"Are you one of them?" For a moment, Cyrus did not answer. Then he looked down at his gloved hand.

"That is correct." Noah turned toward him. Cyrus flexed his fingers slowly.

"If I had better control over it, I would not be in this situation right now." His voice lowered.

"If you cannot properly control the Black Mist, then it is not power." The black puddles around them twitched faintly before going still.

"It is a hostile organism." Cyrus looked toward the staircase.

"One that tries to butcher everyone and everything it touches."

"That is correct." A new voice echoed through the hall.

"Slaughter is all those beasts of resentment are good for." Everyone turned. A figure walked through the hallway toward them, dragging a sword made of Black Mist along the floor. The blade shifted as it moved, its shape never fully stable, as if it were alive and struggling to become something worse. Her clothing was unlike anything Noah had ever seen. She wore a white, puffy uniform that covered most of her body. A strange canister was attached to her back, connected by tubes that disappeared into the suit.

Over her head sat a glass dome, rounded and sealed tight. Inside the dome was only darkness. Not shadow. Not a hidden face. Just pitch black. Ava raised her daggers. Adam's hand moved toward his spear. Noah tightened his grip around his sword.

"Are you one of Medusa's servants?" Adam asked. The figure stopped at the end of the ballroom.

"No." Her voice sounded slightly distorted through the glass dome.

"While I respect Lady Medusa, and her love for my fellow citizens of Helheim, I do not serve her." The Black Mist sword rose in her hand.

"My codename is Jupiter." The darkness inside her helmet seemed to stare at them.

"And I am a member of The Crows." Noah's body went cold. The Crows. Even here. Even now. Jupiter pointed her sword toward them.

"Leave now if you value your lives." Cyrus stepped forward.

"I'll handle this one." Noah glanced at him.

"Cyrus."

"If she is a King Candidate," Cyrus said, "then she has the same weakness as all of them." Jupiter's sword twitched in her hand. Cyrus smiled faintly.

"The Black Mist's greatest weakness is simple." Ice formed beneath his shoes with each step he took.

"It freezes easily." Cold spread across the ballroom floor. Frost crawled over the black puddles left behind by the maids, locking them in place before they could move again. Cyrus raised one hand, ice gathering around his fingers. Jupiter tilted her glass-covered head.

"You sound confident."

"I am." Cyrus adjusted his glasses with his other hand.

"If you rely on Black Mist, then this is my field." The air between them grew cold enough to fog the glass of Jupiter's helmet. Jupiter lifted her sword. Cyrus lowered into a stance. Behind him, Noah, Ava, and Adam watched in silence. For the first time since entering Medusa's castle, Cyrus stepped ahead of the group alone. Not as a scholar. Not as a demon from Helheim. Not as a man begging for help. But as a brother who had come to reclaim the one thing that could save his family. Ice spread beneath him.

Black Mist writhed before him. And the battle began.