Chương 61: 60: The Eleven Abominations X

Ouro crossed the shattered plain until she reached a body lying motionless. The one she'd been fighting. He had bled out from a hundred cuts, mirror shards still embedded throughout his flesh. His eyes were wide open, frozen in confusion. Dark blood had soaked his white hair. Dead. Yet she could still feel him. There was another. Her chains didn't merely absorb energy. They could detect it, even when hidden, like a hound sniffing out contraband sealed inside a box. She stretched out a hand.

A chain snapped forward, anchoring itself to a distant mountainside before reeling her across the landscape like a grappling hook. She arced through the air, landed lightly, and came to rest before the mouth of a secluded cave. The entrance shimmered beneath a perfect cloak. Her chain touched it. The concealment unraveled as its energy drained away. Ouro stepped inside. There he was. Another Clock floated silently at the centre of the cavern, unconscious, suspended within a cocoon of Gloom. She stared at him.

So this was where he'd been hiding. She could end it all now. — Clock drifted through an unconscious dream, as though the Gloom itself were trying to piece him back together after Iriz's violation. It sifted through the shattered fragments of his identity, searching for the memories she had scattered, desperately trying to remind him who he was. Warm sunlight. The distant roar of a waterfall. Endless fields of green stretching beneath an open sky. It had always been one of the quieter places.

Rolling meadows stretched beneath a brilliant blue sky, wildflowers swaying in the breeze while countless butterflies drifted lazily between them. A river wound through the valley, its crystal waters feeding a towering waterfall whose constant thunder echoed across the landscape like gentle applause. Clock lay on a weight bench beside the river. Metal groaned as his arms shook beneath a barbell before he locked out the final repetition and slammed it back onto the rack.

"One hundred thousand." He sat upright with a dissatisfied frown.

"That's not enough." Nearby, Butter sat cross-legged on the grass, wearing a cream-colored beanie with absurdly long floppy ears that bounced whenever she moved. An oversized pastel-yellow hoodie swallowed her frame, its sleeves hiding most of her hands, while a black pleated skirt fell to her knees above thick charcoal tights and well-worn white trainers streaked with blades of grass. She didn't answer, mostly because she was busy attempting something completely insane.

A surfboard balanced atop a perfectly round ball. Butter balanced atop the surfboard on one leg with her eyes closed. Several ceramic plates rested on her head while dumbbells hung from both hands. Every muscle in her body trembled with concentration as the entire contraption wobbled dangerously. Clock watched for a moment before a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"You're shaking too much. Try breathing in... then breathing out." Butter's eye twitched.

"Oh? You think you could do this?"

"Yeah." She grunted through clenched teeth as another wobble rippled through the surfboard.

"…You're probably right." Clock smirked. Butter had always been the odd one out. Where he flowed around attacks, she preferred introducing her fist to someone's mouth before they had the chance to finish the backflip. He wandered toward a massive horizontal bar suspended above the river, hooked his legs around it, and began doing upside-down sit-ups. To the far left, Mango and Prism were training on a nearby clearing. CLANG!

"Ow!"

"Not that hard!"

"You told me to stop holding back," Mango replied.

"I meant a little!" Another metallic CLANG echoed across the valley, followed by Prism's indignant yelp. Behind him, the waterfall thundered while birds chirped overhead, and Butter continued vibrating atop what could only be described as a self-inflicted death trap. By situp nine thousand and ninety-eight, Clock was already annoyed. By twenty thousand, he dropped onto the grass with a sigh.

"Still not enough." Butter cracked one eye open.

"You said that about the last thing."

"Because it wasn't enough."

"You said it before that too."

"Because that also wasn't enough." She closed her eye again.

"You sound like an addict." Before Clock could respond, reality rippled. The Aria drifted out of thin air beside him, the enormous book floating serenely above the grass as its pages turned of their own accord. What do you want? Clock scratched his head.

"A heavier barbell." Specify.

"A pair of weights." Specify.

"Each weighing exactly as much as Earth." The Aria paused as several pages flipped. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Additional rules required.

"Prevent structural collapse." Accepted. Violet Gloom flowed from Clock as payment. The grass rippled, and a second later two enormous weights materialized beside the bench. They looked completely ordinary. Somehow, the knowledge that each supposedly weighed as much as a planet only made them more unsettling. Clock immediately walked over and grabbed the bar. Butter opened both eyes.

"Oh my. You are such a psychopath."

"Probably." Then he started lifting again. Hours seemed to pass. The sun drifted lower, bathing the meadow in gold. Butter had long since abandoned the surfboard. She now stood atop the river itself, bare feet resting on the water without sinking as she moved slowly through a Tai Chi sequence. It wasn't telekinesis. It was technique. Every breath, every shift of weight, every turn of her hips aligned her intent so perfectly with her movement that the river could no longer distinguish its own will from hers.

The water followed. It coiled around her arms, flowed around her waist, and spiralled around her body like living silk. Every graceful motion guided hundreds of gallons without effort. She stepped forward, turned, and extended one arm. The water obeyed. A crescent wave flashed across the river, and half a second later a boulder the size of a truck slid neatly apart before its upper half crashed into the grass. Butter nodded.

"Better." By then Clock had finally finished. He stretched, rolled his shoulders, and looked toward the river. Butter stood balanced atop the water with complete focus. He smiled. Then clapped once. Butter's eyes snapped open. The concentration broke.

"WAIT-" SPLASH! She disappeared beneath the river. Clock immediately doubled over laughing.

"HAHAHAHA-" The water exploded. Butter launched from the river like an angry missile with an entire wave chasing behind her.

"YOU JERK!" The torrent smashed directly into Clock. WHOOOSH! He was drenched instantly. For a second they simply stared at one another. Then Butter burst into laughter. Clock sighed.

"…I deserved that."

"You absolutely deserved that." Eventually they settled beside the riverbank. The Aria floated nearby while Clock opened it and began drawing. Steam rose from bowls of ramen packed with shrimp, squid, sliced meat, eggs, and vegetables. Butter pointed immediately.

"Apple pie." Clock sighed and drew that too. A second later, an entire pie appeared. Butter beamed, looking utterly victorious. The two began eating, and kept eating, because training with supernatural monsters burned absurd amounts of calories. Behind them, another metallic CLANG! rang across the clearing.

"OW!" Prism stumbled backward, clutching his forehead.

"Mango!"

"What?"

"You pelleted me!"

"You said your durability only gets better if I stop going easy."

"I meant slightly less easy!" Mango folded her arms.

"You're still conscious."

"That's not the point!"

"It kind of is." Prism opened his mouth to argue, thought better of it, then grumbled under his breath as he picked another training pellet off the grass. Butter giggled around a mouthful of pie. Clock pinched the bridge of his nose. Some things, he suspected, would never change. Between bites they discussed techniques. Butter talked about improving her flow states while Clock refined telekinetic layering.

They argued over footwork, debated timing, and discussed countermeasures until the conversation drifted somewhere unexpected. They kept eating, the conversation drifting lazily from training to whatever crossed their minds. Halfway through her second slice of pie, Butter clicked her fingers.

"I just remembered." Clock looked up from his ramen.

"Yes?"

"What was the name of that album you were listening to earlier?" He immediately shook his head.

"No."

"Why not?"

"I want to keep it niche."

"…Clock."

"What?"

"If I look it up and they have like a million monthly listeners, I'm going to chokeslam you." Clock laughed.

"Fine, fine." He told her the name. Butter nodded thoughtfully.

"Neat." Clock took another mouthful of ramen.

"The lead singer's in jail, though." Butter's head snapped toward him.

"…For what?"

"Tax evasion." She blinked.

"…Honestly? I was expecting something way worse."

"Same." They fell back into comfortable silence. After a while, Clock reached across the blanket, plucked Butter's beanie off her head, and pulled it onto his own. The long floppy ears drooped over either side of his face as he idly played with them.

"These are comfortable," he murmured.

"No wonder you wear this thing all the time." Butter looked at him for a moment, then snorted.

"It actually suits you." Clock ignored the comment, flicking one of the floppy ears before setting his bowl down.

"Do you ever wonder what death feels like?" Butter blinked.

"…No." Clock looked genuinely surprised.

"Never?"

"No." She took another bite of pie.

"It literally never crosses my mind." Clock stared at her.

"What?"

"I think about it a lot." That earned a glance. The waterfall continued roaring behind them as Butter's expression softened slightly. Clock twirled noodles around his chopsticks.

"If we actually live long enough to grow old…" He hesitated.

"…I'd rather die first." Butter raised an eyebrow.

"Why?" Clock kept staring at his food.

"Because I don't know what I'd do if you died." The river continued flowing. The waterfall thundered. For a long moment, Butter simply stared before the corner of her mouth twitched.

"Aww." Clock immediately looked offended.

"It wasn't-""That's so sweet."

"It wasn't meant to be sweet."

"It absolutely was."

"It wasn't." Butter grinned wider.

"You're basically saying you love me." Clock pointed a chopstick at her.

"That's not what I said."

"It's exactly what you said."

"It isn't."

"It is."

"It isn't." Butter leaned closer, smiling.

"Aww." Clock groaned, grabbed a massive > …bundle of noodles, and stuffed them straight into her mouth.

"MMPH!"

"Silence." Butter nearly choked laughing. Clock immediately looked away, pretending not to smile, pretending not to care, and failing completely. THOOOOOOM! The mountain across the river exploded. A tiny figure shot clean through the summit, spun end over end high into the sky, then plunged straight into the river. SPLASH! A moment later Prism surfaced, soaked from head to toe, glaring toward the opposite bank.

"Mango!" he shouted.

"You hit too hard!" Mango's voice carried back innocently.

"SORRYYYY." Butter burst into helpless laughter. Clock gave up pretending and laughed with her. Even Mango cracked a grin as Prism continued grumbling while dog-paddling toward shore. The memory lingered for another moment before the meadow vanished, the waterfall faded, and the sunlight disappeared. — Cold arms wrapped around him, pulling him into a firm embrace.

She smelled of wet stone, white lilies, cool spring water, and the faint mineral scent of polished scales after rain, with a whisper of wild herbs carried on the air. It was undeniably reptilian, yet clean, elegant, and oddly soothing, like standing beside an ancient temple where great serpents had once been worshipped. The woman leaned back just enough for their faces to meet. Warm brown skin contrasted softly with striking slanted silver eyes framed by long lashes, their quiet concern impossible to mistake.

A tiny mole rested upon the bridge of her straight nose. Full lips, strong brows and a lean, elegant face gave her an almost statuesque beauty. She wore a sleeveless dark robe beneath a white shawl draped across her shoulders, while long black hair threaded with silver chains and cowrie shells cascaded down her back. His gaze drifted lower. Around her neck hung a silver chain bearing two tiny charms. A snake. And a ladder. He almost smiled. Then he realised where his hands were. His eyes widened.

"... Oh." He immediately let go, stumbling backward.

"I-I'm so sorry." The woman laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair behind one ear.

"It is alright," she said, her Italian accent softening every word.

"You were shaking... crying. I was only trying to comfort you." Clock wiped at his face. His fingertips came away wet.

"... I was?" His voice sounded distant. His thoughts felt wrapped in fog. Names slipped away the instant he reached for them. Something enormous had happened. He simply couldn't remember what. The woman's expression softened.

"They hurt your mind." Clock frowned.

"... I can't remember."

"I know." She stepped closer.

"I can help, sì?" After a long hesitation, he nodded.

"... Please." She moved behind him.

"Relax. It will sting only a little." Her fingers gently parted the collar of his jacket, exposing the side of his neck. Before he could ask what she meant, one arm slipped around his shoulders and she leaned in. Her teeth pierced his neck. Gentle. Almost affectionate. Clock shuddered. Something left him. The fog. The impossible emptiness Iriz had carved into him. She drew it away slowly, as though drinking poison from a wound. With every passing second his thoughts sharpened.

Forgotten names drifted back into place. Faces reassembled. Memories stopped contradicting themselves. When she finally pulled away, her tongue brushed lightly across the tiny puncture marks. They closed at once. Clock blinked.

"... Thank you." Then everything returned. Winter. Butter. Iriz. The Abominations. His expression hardened instantly. In one motion he retreated several metres, Gloom gathering around him.

"How did you find me? And what do you want?" She simply raised both hands with an easy smile.

"Mamma mia... calm yourself. You spared me. I only wished to return the kindness." She glanced toward the cave entrance.

"I have no desire to fight. I simply wish to leave this place." Her silver eyes met his.

"Please... let me." Clock studied her for several long seconds before exhaling. Space folded open beside her into a shimmering violet passage. She inclined her head.

"Grazie." With one final wave she stepped through. The rift folded shut behind her. Clock stood alone. Something brushed against his fingers. He reached into his pocket and found a neatly folded scrap of paper. A phone number. Written in what looked suspiciously like blood. He stared at it.

"... Seriously?" Shaking his head, he folded it again and slipped it back into his pocket. There would be time to think about strange women later. The Abominations were still alive. This was his last body. It was time to finish the war.