Chương 117: CHAPTER 114 - Zang Tumb Tumb

The singularity known as Icarus was a rare case even for NOIR: normally a singularity had a perfectly geometric structure, whether a cube or a sphere, manifesting a certain perfection in the way Hel expressed itself. But the floating archipelago was an exceptional, hole-riddled network, somehow leaving room for real consequences to manifest within. A gigantic shard of ice exploded into fragments, piercing the surrounding buildings and tearing a massive gash in the earth.

From the rubble emerged a black-haired man, wrapped in a short cloak covered with slightly grayish snowflakes.

"I imagine you've considered your moves if you're planning to ambush me twice." Another explosion, this time more targeted, broke the ice near him, revealing a man wrapped in a worn, scorched lab coat. The goggles resting on his forehead were dusted with grime, dark as his disheveled, chaotic hair. The slender man stretched, yawning and licking his thin, chapped lips.

"I'm weak. I'm forced to use my wits to survive." Without warning, he tried to slap Maliard, causing a new, violent series of explosions. The ice spine finally gave way, subjecting the concrete to its weight. As the ice collapsed toward the sea below, Ascan and Maliard sized each other up, hanging from the rock. The glove hissed, firing white jets into the freezing air.

"If you know you're so weak, why do you insist on working in this field? I don't think you're forced. I don't see discontent in you." Ascan smiled, swinging from his handhold.

"Gear…" He chuckled, with just the right tone to be heard but not understood.

"Now you're playing the joker?" Maliard grabbed the rock with enough force to shatter it, propelling himself upward until his feet rested on a ledge supported by heavy, frost-covered iron cables.

"I said I'm a gear! My goal is to keep the mechanism of discovery turning, nothing more, nothing less. I'm obliged by nature, like everyone, to do something. Do you think you're free, Maliard Turner? Do you think you can still choose what you want to do? I'll tell you it's useless! You're here to wallow in your false sense of justice and failed humanitarianism, while I'm here to carry on my research. No one forces us but destiny. Your family, just like the victims of my aberrations, were gears.

Everything is already cast and set." Maliard's face darkened.

"All we have to do is turn and creak." He didn't wait for a reaction from his interlocutor. The blade of wind that had sheared off his handhold was enough to make his smile grow.

"I understand… I understand why you praise that thing, why you love Hel so much, and the demons that silently devour men." An explosion darkened the sea, hurling Ascan upward. Maliard reached him, grabbing him by the arm.

"They're the only proof you think you have regarding that stupid mental machine welded inside your skull." Using the air, he accelerated the kick with enough power to imprint a force capable of splitting in two the cliff left after the explosion. Ascan tumbled across the ground, crashing through numerous ice walls.

"I partly share what you say. That perhaps this infinite sequence of gears is nothing but humanity…" Maliard landed on the ground, stretching the arm that held Compulsion, letting himself be wrapped in burning vapor. He walked following the crater left by Ascan's passage, his gaze fixed forward.

"I may be just a component in the working machine, but I allow myself to think I'm fundamental to it." The gems on the glove lit up as thin whirlwinds coiled around him.

"After all, your reasoning lacks intellect. Every gear is fundamental, with its iron eroding, adapting to the one closest by dint of turning. I have my mission, I have my teeth and the screws that hold me, but that doesn't mean I have to turn for someone else. I don't even believe this machine is a chain." The vapor dissipated, revealing his greenish eyes.

"This gear has a name, even without knowing who forged it." He pointed his fist at his chest with enough force to shake the air.

"I am Maliard Turner, agent for the suppression of Anomalies for NOIR, and I'm here to break your rotten chain!" The ground beneath his feet exploded violently, raising a colossal cloud of dust.

"I hear you all too well, and I can tell you with certainty that such phrases should be said with more emphasis!" Ascan smiled before coughing. Maliard emerged from the smoke, wrapped in armor of concrete and iron. He struck Ascan violently in the abdomen, hurling him against more ice columns.

"Stick to your failed science. Emotions and such conjectures aren't for you." The armor on his knuckles crumbled as he felt his fingers grow slightly sore.

"What the hell happened to his body? His resistance has increased significantly." Ascan stood up, coughing violet blood. The twisted expression on his ecstatic face suggested he had understood what Maliard was thinking.

"Did you really think an ambush was the only way to apply my intellect?" The scientist raised his thumb, pressing it against the skin of his fingers as if it were a detonator. Suddenly, the clumps of blood lit up before exploding with enough force to tear the ground and send another piece of Icarus plummeting into the depths.

"Body modifications? I don't think what he's using is a relic." A fist emerged from the rock, revealing Maliard wrapped in ice but unharmed. Behind him, the ground collapsed, uncovering a tunnel just wide enough to propel a single man.

"Same logic behind the flesh dolls I produced! Modified micro-parasites clinging to my capillaries, connective tissues, and muscles. They repair the body using part of the Frequency I produce. Termìe and Northest already started using such technologies in the War." Maliard lowered his head, chuckling as he slowly shook it. Ascan fell silent, furrowing his brows.

"You worked so hard just to resemble a monster?" At those words, indignation left his face, replaced by pity. Ascan tilted his head like a confused animal, staring with a blank expression.

"Monster? We are the evolution of humanity. Why would you hate the progress that evolution has gifted us?" Maliard took a step forward, shattering the ground. A new puff of vapor rose from his side.

"Evolution? If this is the destiny of the human race, I prefer extinction." His voice, so convinced and dry, roused Ascan, bringing all the blood back to his face.

"Are you retarded?! A century of conflict has burned your cognitive abilities?! WE ARE THE FUTURE! THE UNNAMED HAS DEMONS—" The scientist dodged to the side, watching the ground be torn apart. Maliard's green eyes were fixed on him, corrupted by a dark shadow.

"If that is your inspiration, I'll make sure to kill that thing and then come laugh about it on your grave!" For the first time since they'd met, Ascan had stopped smiling.

"I thought it was a divergence of perspective, but I note that you suffer from apparent cognitive delay… You're a detractor of the future, of the glorious machine of progress!" He growled, drawing a white hilt from his lab coat. All the sweat from his hands was sucked inside, beginning to crackle violently. A blade of bluish light with violet edges appeared, long, straight, and vibrating.

"You're not deaf. You're just incapable of listening! I could never share your corrupted vision!" From Compulsion exploded black iron rods that almost immediately bound together with a greenish chain. With a violent snap, Maliard grabbed the new weapon, igniting it like a torch. Both sized each other up, eyes trembling.

"You are a threat!" They shouted in unison, hurling themselves at each other. The first blow was Maliard's, lodging the iron rod in Ascan's abdomen. Ascan's body shot backward, shattering everything that separated him from the new elevated ledge.

"How many tricks does he have under that coat..." Maliard's feet dashed across the icy ground, ever faster.

"How can you consider yourself sentient if you don't think about the good of your species?!" Ascan erupted as blood sprayed from his lips. With force, he twisted his torso in the air, scattering dozens of explosive globules. A cloud of flames enveloped the islet, immediately liquefying the ice. A vortex of wind absorbed the flames as he landed, scraping the ground with his nails.

"How can you think of spreading our curse and passing it off as improvement?!" All the fire was absorbed into Maliard's palm, which he promptly opened, aimed at his opponent." FARBEN, FEUER MAX!" A beam of pure bluish energy rose from his fingers, aimed at Ascan while separating rock and metal with surgical precision. The scientist pushed himself away, propelling himself with continuous explosions, while the beam sliced through the entire surroundings.

He raised his arm, causing an explosion that pushed him downward as he tried to close the distance with Maliard. Ascan tightened his grip on the blade, approaching dangerously fast.

"You don't have much field experience, do you?" Gigantic shadows darkened the battlefield, and only now did Ascan realize Maliard's true intent.

"Cheeky bastard..." Maliard smiled as dozens of rocks collapsed from the upper islands. Ascan swallowed nervously, still swinging a slash at the soldier. Compulsion and the oxyhydrogen blade clashed in a sea of sparks, the impact pushing both apart. The entire mass of rock crashed down on him, shattering the very island where they fought. In the landslide, a burning light expanded. The rock melted, and a wave of heat exploded, illuminating Icarus. Maliard was hurled upward, regenerating to extinguish the flames.

"A prefabricated bomb?" Maliard stretched out his glove, observing the gigantic amount of information and attributes scattered in the air. Quickly, he applied a circular motion to the matter, drawing it toward his left arm. In an instant, the heat and smoke vanished.

"Where is he?" He looked around rapidly, searching for his rival among the molten debris sliding slowly toward the abyss. An explosion manifested behind him, making him turn immediately. A blade of air slashed the black cloud, yet nothing was there.

"Where are you looking?" Ascan appeared from below, his clothes burned, with a few flames still flickering on his shoulders. Maliard reacted again, this time swinging his chain directly at Ascan's skull. With many minor explosions, Ascan rotated his body, spreading more smoke into the air. The weapon was lost in the smoke, while numerous other explosions spread deafeningly around him. Maliard raised his glove, releasing a pure white light around him.

In a few moments, beams of burning energy pierced the island from side to side. They bent, circulating through air and rock, splitting them apart.

"Found you!" The chain and the flaming blade clashed again, releasing burning sparks into the air. Ascan smiled, beginning to release weak bursts from his hands and the soles of his shoes. With a violent slash, Maliard was hurled toward the island above. His back collided with the frozen rock, shattering it and releasing more frost into the air. He immediately brought his arm forward, blocking another barrage of explosions. Maliard's body passed through stone and concrete, bursting onto the surface.

He had no time to catch his breath before he darted to the side, pursued by vehement flames. Ascan was above him, continuing to detonate shots from his fingers like a mortar. Maliard ran, sliding under rocks and through fissures. The explosions reached him, engulfing him in an avalanche of flames.

"So you still wish to resist? To oppose our march toward a brighter future? You don't want everyone to have their own light? To be free to follow their own morals and choices without worry?" As Ascan spoke, a scythe of rock grazed his cheek. He touched the wound, seeing blood drip from his fingers. The skin began to regenerate, yet he was too focused on the figure before him.

"Do you really believe humans behave better under an imaginary beacon? Perhaps, but in the world you speak of with such grandeur, every clash would become a tragedy. The perfect society would have more dead and monsters than men. Every repression would become a fatality." Maliard emerged from the smoke, wrapped in black, thorny rock. One blade on his arm had detached, probably the one thrown at Ascan. This story has been stolen from Royal Road.

If you read it on Amazon, please report it"A world of fictitious control where people will pursue the same evil that struck us centuries ago… I cannot accept a world ruled by that thing!" The small constructs immersed in Ascan's blood were active, ready to repair any future damage, yet something deep inside still seemed irreparably damaged. Every time his gaze landed on the armored man, something wrung inside his heart.

"Why... Why do I still feel that we are kindred souls?" Ascan clicked his tongue, sighing.

"So that's what you believe, Ascan? You want to deny locks to the armories?" Maliard took another step forward, simply raising his gaze. Ascan nodded, landing. The sword's blade immediately regained its color, and after a brief exchange of glances, they resumed fighting. Maliard's armor impacted against the flames, overwhelming Ascan and hurling him into the debris. Quickly, he closed his fist, raising a cap of black rock. Numerous sparks detonated around them, fraying the island on which they fought.

"His is an artificial regeneration, but no technology can prevent an Overload. The first one to yield will lose!" A violet spark appeared near the tip of his nose. Dozens of explosions erupted across the region, covering everything in flames and smoke. Ascan darted between the black columns, continuing to hurl explosive drops from his fingers. The continuous roars drowned out the sound of fractured rock. He stopped only when he perched atop a precarious column, watching a good part of the territory sink.

"This way you can't hide again…" With every word, he gasped for freezing air, feeling it scrape his throat with every breath. Aside from the raw sound of crumbling rock and the breeze, nothing else seemed audible. He was about to smile and puff out his chest when, in the distance, the sky was obstructed by a blackish cloud permeated with multicolored lightning.

"That's Laure's sector, if I'm not mistaken." He smiled, pulling a golden pen from his coat. In a few moments, it expanded, driving into the ground and taking the shape of a spear with a reddish tip. The shockwave arrived, followed by the roar, extinguishing every flame and violently trying to drag Ascan away with it.

"She's having fun, for sure!" Once everything stopped, he raised his gaze, searching for Maliard's body in what remained of his sector.

"A shame... He could have been such a wise man. Those who waste intellect on the screaming masses are always pitiful." He turned, stroking the back of his neck and swinging the blade against the ground.

"Already nostalgic?" Above his head appeared a shadow, wrapped in a shapeless mass of dense smoke and rock, resembling in every way a bird's wing. With the same speed with which it had appeared, his knuckles crashed down on Ascan like a hammer. The scientist's body tumbled through the sharp remains of the battlefield, tearing open.

"The substance he produces is the ignition tool! The phenomenon manifests through direct manipulation. He's not simulating. He's simply enacting it with that substance." From the air's code, he began removing certain details piece by piece, while sparks manifested around him. Smoke enveloped Maliard, yet neither the flames nor the force of the detonations could scratch him as he walked.

"Don't tell me you've already figured it out…" Ascan coughed with a grin, letting violet liquid run from his lips, stained with sludge. Maliard advanced without a word. A new explosion interrupted his gaze every couple of seconds, only to reappear from behind the smoke outside that strange bubble of Frequency extending around him. Ascan smiled, taking a deep breath before Maliard took the final step. The blade's flame in Ascan's hand went out, and a violet metal tip emerged from the hilt, now strangely cold.

"Oxygen and kinetic transmission? He removed that from the space?!" With a grin from ear to ear, Maliard approached, sizing him up from head to toe. The two stared at each other for a few moments, both within a few steps of one another. Unfortunately, Ascan was a scientist, a man of theories behind a desk and of subterfuge on the battlefield, and he could not hope to stand against Maliard Turner. The pain of the elbow strike shot through his temples, while his slashes could not get close.

Maliard grabbed his wrist, twisted it, and used it as a lever to catapult him against a rock wall. He righted himself quickly, ignoring the blurring in his vision and how the pain in his back had become sharper." A Meta has decidedly superior survival capabilities. Oxygen, thermal shifts, hunger, thirst. They are better than humans in every way. My technology cannot equal them."

The back of his skull smashed through the rock, making the tiny robots in his bloodstream work hard to prevent bone fragments from damaging his brain. A new series of blows shook his organs, bursting them and irrigating his tissues with dark blood. Ascan smiled despite the beating, regenerating as the iron glove shattered his face. Maliard kept holding his breath and moved with the same precision and strength, aiming at the joints, then the ribcage, finally the neck and skull, before repeating the sequence.

Everything stopped when the influence bubble generated by Farben ceased to exist, and Maliard began spitting blood. Ascan watched him, smiling, panting, and dirty with every kind of filth that had poured from his throat. In his hands he held a small device, a pistol, though the internal chamber was visible, with small violet drops inside.

"A Taumite pistol, except the projectile is a poisoned Taumite capsule. Not with a toxin, obviously, but with an opposing radiation. You know, right? That every fragment has a slight divergence and has to be treated?" Maliard was kneeling, with the taste of blood seeping between his teeth and every muscle weak. Oxygen had returned around them, along with the heat generated by the surrounding flames.

"I am an imitation, a blight of nature… And yet I admire you Metas very much." The scientist loaded a second pellet into the chamber, along with a small violet reservoir that slotted under the grip. Immediately, the gray sphere was submerged in violet liquid. He aimed and pointed it at Maliard's forehead.

"I cannot equal you with my technology, but there's no need to be equal to an icon to bring it down." He smiled, delicately placed his finger on the trigger, and tilted his head.

"A shame. You and Lance Klint could have created a sublime world." Blood sprayed into the mud, followed by the rasping sound of an obstructed throat. In front of Maliard, a pool of thick violet blood spread at his feet. Ascan writhed, clutching his stomach with both hands as dark patches appeared on his exposed skin. Maliard laughed as he vomited blood, rising with difficulty.

"You said it yourself… You cannot equal a monster." Exhausted, eaten by the cold, with the glove burning his skin, Maliard Turner closed his fingers and threw a violent hook at the scientist. He was weak, consumed by fatigue, but still strong enough to send him face-first into the mud. Ascan rose with difficulty, aiming the pistol with a trembling hand. The bullet exploded against the rock, as Maliard kicked him hard in the side, sending the pistol sliding into the warm mud.

Ascan tried to thrash, but immediately felt the oxygen vanish as fingers tightened around his throat. Struggling, he grabbed a stone, violently smashing it against Maliard's face. He stood up abruptly, watching Maliard cough, his cheek painted with dirt and blood. They both panted, staggering toward each other. Maliard's weapon was lost among the ruins, along with all of Ascan's tools. The two men had already understood their condition, and for that very reason they clenched their fingers and teeth.

Their fists flew strangely fast, slamming into each other. They both staggered, regaining a shred of composure before clashing again. Despite the poison, Maliard was beginning to overwhelm the scientist, pelting him with kicks and elbows. His vision began to tinge red as blood flooded his conjunctiva. Beaten, his body neared the edge of the island, hurled toward the abyss.

"We can do… so much more." Ascan smiled, grabbing Maliard and causing a small burst at their feet. Both lost their footing as the ledge collapsed, pushing them toward the void below. Ascan laughed, striking Maliard violently to make him crash against the rocks. His back split against the ice of the wall, leaving a crimson trail. After a few seconds, they impacted a floating platform beneath the region, supported by distorted columns and decorated with the remains of a military warehouse.

Ascan was the first to rise, holding his mouth, hoping to stop himself from retching blood. With a grimace, he grabbed a syringe from his coat and quickly injected it into his neck. The wounds and pains began to fade, although the tenor of the explosions and his Frequency were slow to return.

"I expected as much…" Before him appeared Maliard, also with a syringe planted in his leg. His uniform was in pieces because of the distortions in Frequency caused by the poison. With a gesture, he tore off part of the uniform, revealing cracks on his skin.

"They can help you regenerate, but they aren't made to repair Overload disturbances." He smiled, clenching his metal fingers to form a fist again. Ascan nodded, pulling a silver cube from his ruined coat.

"They're designed to enhance only the body's natural abilities. They don't replace, however, the mental palliative you inject yourselves with..." Suddenly the cube expanded, taking the full shape of a firearm: rigid, slightly grooved, with a long barrel from which two muzzles branched. Maliard noticed the weapon and darted toward the rocks, feeling bullets fly close to his skull.

"I couldn't remove all the fragments in time. Give a break…" A puff of vapor rose from Compulsion, hitting his face with heat. He snorted, grabbing a stone from the ground to throw it beyond the temporary cover. A shot rang out, and small rock fragments began raining on his head.

"His aim sure is good." Maliard smiled, throwing another before running to the opposite side. Ascan reloaded quickly, again aiming at the dark figure approaching ever closer. A new cartridge slid into the chamber, charging with reddish vapor from the Taumite reservoir. He aimed the weapon, slid his finger over the trigger, and detonated another shot. The pellets dispersed in the air, almost as if they had struck rubber.

"He made the layer of air squishy?!" The scientist tried to reload, but Maliard had already closed in enough. He extended the glove, tracing a small imaginary line between them. From his nerves, through the air, reaching Ascan, a thin discharge of electricity was generated.

"Can you really do that in those conditions?!" He dropped the remains of the weapon, inflamed and unusable, trying to turn against him. He had no time to react before Maliard's glove crashed into his face again, with enough force to shatter the wall behind him and send him inside what remained of the warehouse. He crashed against rusted beams and pipes, corroded by the black sand that had covered the floor.

Staggering, Maliard made his entrance, his eyes closed, with enough blood streaming from them to dye his face.

"A bit reckless for a gear, don't you think?" Ascan chuckled, struggling to keep the glove's fingers tight. He rose, trembling, holding his face burned by the impact while rummaging through the last intact pocket of his coat. A vial, this time golden, with a long syringe. Before he could inject it, Maliard grabbed his wrist and struck Ascan's chest with his free hand. The syringe fell to the ground, still in the sand. The trampling of Maliard's steps echoed in the warehouse as Ascan tried to retrieve it.

He raised Compulsion above his head, almost like a sledgehammer. He was about to swing his arm when blood erupted from the orifices of his face.

"The poison…" He fell to the ground, barely seeing, framing the vial before him. Both dragged themselves across the ground, hands bloodied. Moaning with guttural sounds and gurgles, they advanced, thinking only of the liquid in front of them. Maliard reached out his hand, just like Ascan.

"I'm sorry… that it has to end like this." The scientist rose with difficulty, holding the syringe in his hands. The glass was dirty with blood and sand, yet one could still see the faint violet glow beneath. Maliard stared at him from beyond the red curtain that had settled over his corneas, moaning.

"However, a great epoch is often sanctioned by the death of the distinguished men who sought to build it." He brought the needle to his neck, smiling faintly with what remained of his lips.

"Maliard… No… NOIR… You need to die for humanity." Ascan pressed the syringe, but instead of injecting the cure, it exploded. A violet cloud engulfed the warehouse, dense and somehow accompanied by a somewhat sweet perfume.

"I am not special. I am a gear. One like many, a victim to be added to the list of the past and future world. But I can still choose which machine to work for. If I must die for a future, let it be a future where the dawn is pleasant for everyone." An explosion completely devastated the islet and the warehouse, projecting dense violet smoke all the way to the apex of the frozen region. In the midst of the dark clouds, two silhouettes now squared against each other.

Ascan and Maliard sized each other up, both in flight with their full abilities restored. The scientist laughed, tearing off his coat. A single black sphere appeared in his palm.

"It's an experimental drug. I have no idea how long it will last or if it will stop the Overload." Ascan smiled, pressing the sphere to his chest. It frayed, wrapping around his skin like one of the uniforms used by NOIR, only with a slightly more grayish tint. Maliard nodded, making one of Compulsion's gems shine. He grabbed the hot air surrounding him, shaping it like molten iron until he forged a black sword. Fragments of smoke bound to the glove, making it more like a claw.

"Indefinite time is nothing but an incentive to bury you as soon as possible." With that, the two clashed again in the frozen landscape. After the explosion from Laure and Lance's clash, many were separated from their original path.

"So you're the origin of the signal?" Edvard Ross emerged from the shadows, slamming his staff to break the silence of the strange place he found himself in: it resembled, in every way, a square, decorated with strange vegetation and the remains of a dome above him. Not far from him, atop the remains of a statue, stood a young man in a shirt. The light filtering through the upper hole illuminated his face, yet it exuded a certain darkness, almost as if it were intrinsic to his features.

"I have no idea how it works. I was not assigned here, but the clash obliged me to reach this place." Tucked close to the figure's belt of his black trousers was a small, reddish velvet pouch. When the man turned to get a better look at his rival, it jingled with a metallic click. The young man's face grew grimmer and more furrowed as he recognized the emblem on Edvard's staff.

"You're a Noble, aren't you?" In that moment, even if only for a brief instant, Edvard swore he saw the shadows in the room stir.

"I don't like this guy's guts one bit." A reddish glow pervaded the agent's eyes as he tightened his grip on the pommel.