Universe's End

Chapter 270: Complicated

“Alice?”

The Spear of the Precursors, a warrior who’d shown her worth, undefeated even against an event that had been specifically created to counter them. She had been a symbol of strength to her people, unwavering and always moving forward.

And yet, suddenly Allison was a kid once, looking ‘up’ at her older sister, adoring her so utterly. They’d had different mothers, but it didn’t matter to her, because big sis Zoe was always there for her, always the shield that protected her from her father’s expectations.

And then, she’d disappeared. Run away, never heard from again. Her father had simply shrugged, his statement on the matter so very much him.

“You were always the more talented daughter anyway.”

That was the last time her father had ever mentioned big sis Zoe. And in a way, that was the moment Allison had buried her sister. Because surely, surely, the sister she so adored and idolized wouldn’t leave her alone in the world with a father that saw her only as an extension of himself. Her mother was just the help, and while she had loved her dearly, her mother only ever seemed capable of extending that love as long as her father wasn’t around to perchance witness it.

She’d never met Zoe’s mother, only ever seen her on TV.

It had been a life she’d cast away. It wasn’t her anymore. She’d always been a scrapper, the offense to her sister’s defense, as much as it annoyed her father, he saw that fight as something that could be directed. In the end, even she had begun breaking away before it all ended anyway.

But that was the before time.

So why was a ghost, a specter of the past, looking down on her from a wall, standing next to three others, and one in particular who had been her icon to beat for over a century?

“Zoe?” Allison finally said, striking her spear into the ground. For all the things she’d prepared for, this was not one of them.

“Alice? Is that really you?” the woman, her sister, said. The more she looked at her, the more she could see that, for as much as she’d grown up, no longer a teenager, there was no doubt it was Zoey. The fact that saying she was five feet even was being generous helped as well; her sister had always been… vertically challenged.

“It really is you. You... you grew up! You’re alive? Why is your hair a different color?” Zoey said, and then, without a care in the world, she jumped off the wall, crashing into the ground like she was several tons.

“Spear,” Garfunk whispered, leaning in. “Should we take this as a go signal?”

“No,” Allison said between clenched teeth. “Absolutely not.”

“Zoey?” one of the others on the wall said, a man wearing red scale mail and a strange frame-wire cage helmet, which he pulled off and jumped off a moment later.

That must be the Architect.

Normally, that realization would have affected her more. However, her entire world was still spinning from her big sister being not just alive but here, another Founder.

In her mind, she’d begun superimposing someone who looked like her father upon the Architect, but that was far from the truth. Sure, he had an air of authority to him, but having spent so much of her formative years around her father and all the tutors and mentors and so, so many others, she had a good knack for people, and while he carried authority, it felt more like a byproduct of his station than a weapon he actively wielded.

No, focus, you’re just scrambled because of Zoe.

Speaking of Zoe, she was only a few feet away. Even though she now towered over her sister –Allison had always been a tall girl thanks to her mother and father, whereas Zoe had taken her height straight from her mother– she didn’t feel like she was looking down on her sister.

Staring at her for several seconds, Zoey’s face finally softened.

“Oh, Alice, what happened?”

A single question, but so many things went through her mind. So many countless nights where she cried into her pillow, missing her sister, hating her father, the aches from where her father smacked her across the face if she brought in anything less than a perfect score. She’d taken those strikes like a champ, as if she was ever going to give that asshole the satisfaction of seeing her crack, but when she was alone, she had hurt so much.

Why did you leave me?

She’d always loved to talk with her fists, but toward the end of days, it had turned into something darker, and she used her connections to get herself into underground fight scenes. She’d hurt other girls. Really hurt them. Paralyzed one, then used her money and connections to pay it off.

The end of reality had, in many ways, been a blessing for her, released from a life she hadn’t realized had been her own personal hell.

And then Aelia, being a Founder, her own desire to best the Architect, whom she had morphed into an effigy of her late father, her people, expectations, so many things.

But more than anything, she had just missed her older sister, an ache she’d kept under the tightest lock and key.

Tears welling up, Allison reacted in a way that, perhaps with a hint of foresight, wasn’t the best idea.

She punched her sister. Hard. An uppercut to the gut that had ‘persona’ dripping from every bit of oomph she put into it. Over a hundred years of baggage culminating all at once tended to do that to a person.

One moment, her sister was looking at her with such soft eyes; the next, she was launched away with a sonic boom, crashing into the walls of the city that they had not come here to fight straight up.

So of course, that’s exactly whathappened.

The Architect who had been jogging toward them suddenly narrowed his eyes, before his face was covered in an armored helmet, as he vanished from sight within that same moment.

Unlawfully taken from NovelBin, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Neither Garfunk nor Eric was likely expecting the armored man to pop into existence between the two of them, a sweeping kick to Eric’s neck that seemed to accelerate, catching him off guard and launching him hundreds of meters away in a moment. Garfunk was faster to react, blocking a punch for a moment. Still, the man vanished again, before appearing behind him, launching a fist now surrounded by several rings that sparked with electrical discharge, another sonic boom that sent Garfunk skidding back two hundred meters, his forearms smoldering from where he’d taken the hit.

Tom had been delayed from assisting as the two figures that had stood with her sister and the Architect joined in. They were both tier eight, but it was clear it had been extremely recent. Credit where credit was due, the man in gold and the strange insect woman were good, perhaps some of the best fighters Allison had ever seen.

If one excluded the Founders, of course. At best, they could hold their own against Tom for a few minutes.

Eric, meanwhile, finally decided to rejoin the fight, stepping out from a shadow as he brushed himself off.

“Hurt like a bitch,” the thief muttered before cracking his neck. “Yo, Hamster, want to have some fun?”

“Gladly,” Garfunk answered as the two simultaneously attacked the Architect. The Architect’s instant teleportation was a surprise. Still, he wasn’t the only one with tricks as Eric began stepping through shadows, cornering him as Garfunk took a more direct route.

Things were deteriorating rapidly, with the only one who hadn’t acted being Allison herself, who was looking down at her fist, confused.

Why did I do that?

Still staring down at her fist, the dust cloud from which Zoe had vanished was cleared a moment later, revealing her sister standing there, fuming and, if one happened to know her really well, even smiling a little.

“A god damn century and some change, and the little demon still hasn’t changed,” Zoe barked out, her voice incredulous. “Incredible, really, astounding even. Fine, guess we can do this the old way.”

For someone called the Vanguard, it sure did take Allison by surprise when she shot forward far faster than anticipated, almost as fast as herself, and decked her right back, the punch turning Allison’s world into a spinning collage of images, her mind still reeling.

What is going on?

But like all good older sisters, Zoe was satisfied with clobbering her little brat sister once. Oh no, because suddenly the spinning stopped as Zoey charged after her, grabbing her by the feet and slamming her down into the ground like she was a chew toy.

What?

Normally, this was the point when Allison would find a smile breaking out across her face, her heart pounding with excitement.

But the sheer confusion, the sheer cascade of emotional baggage exploding all at once, left her in a dazed stupor.

What?

Allison had no idea how the other fights were faring, because for the first time in decades, she was getting utterly trounced as her big sister beat the brakes off of her, her heart simply unable to get into its normal groove.

Beaten and battered, her mind was still racing when suddenly she found herself in a headlock, memories of old rushing forward.

“You god damn brat,” Zoey sighed, grinding her knuckles on her head, a noogie from their childhood, before she released her, standing in front of Allison with her hands on her hips.

“A god damn brat,” Zoe huffed, as a tear began to prick at the corner of his eye. “Come here.”

And then, regardless of how much taller she was than her older sister, she was back to being the small one, pulled into a tight, comforting hug after her façade had cracked once their father was well out of sight, where she was allowed to be something other than unbreakable.

“I’m so glad I get to see you again,” Zoe said, her voice soft once more. “I’ve missed you for so long. The one thing I ever regretted was leaving you behind. I should have taken you with me. Should have done something. And all I could think about was how I never got to say sorry.”

The Spear was undoubtedly one of the strongest enlightened alive, a would-be warrior goddess who would smile and laugh in battle, with nothing able to stop the unrelenting beat of her heart.

But for the first time since all of existence had come to an end, she wasn’t the Spear, wasn’t a Founder, wasn’t any of that.

She was simply a little girl who missed her older sister.

Unlike a hallmark movie where the tears came gracefully, an actress’s well-practiced cry, there was nothing elegant, regal, or beautiful about what escaped Allison, big ugly tears streaming down her face and snot running from her nose as she pulled her big sister in tightly.

No words were said, and thankfully, no one was around to intrude on their moment. Oh, sure, Rory was currently scrapping in a two-on-one, and Apostolos and Tsarina were having a valuable lesson taught to them. Still, for at least a few moments, it wasn’t about them.

Plus, Rory would manage somehow.

I am not managing at all.

Rory internally grimaced as he found himself doing everything he could to contend with two Founders at once.

Well, call it business as usual with Zoey.

Internally making peace with the situation, Rory simply settled in as best he could.

Please hurry up.

“At Ease,” a commanding voice shouted, her aura flaring as her three compatriots suddenly pulled back, any signs of her earlier emotional state gone. Standing next to her was the Vanguard, letting her aura flare alongside her like a banner of proof that everything was okay.

Retreating to their respective ‘sides,’ the three opposing Founders converged on the Spear, as Zoey casually strolled over back toward the walls of Ehkorrus. Rory was standing there, arms crossed, his face hidden behind an armored helmet.

“Have fun?” Zoey asked in a teasing voice.

“Not particularly. I don’t enjoy fair fights,” Rory grumbled.

“Oh, you’re fine,” Zoey continued teasing. “I’m sure that it was valuable.”

“It was. In a way,” Rory answered cryptically.

“By the way, where are the other two?” Zoey questioned.

“Making their way here,” Rory said. Between the two of them, Rory had a better sense of his people, rather unsurprisingly.

Right on cue, the two appeared from the tree line, looking… well, not particularly great. Apostolos’s armor was frosted over and cracked, a whisper of complaint that Rory could vaguely feel from the armor that had miraculously developed a latent ego.

Tsarina was missing an arm, a wing, and her chitin was busted all over, the worst shape he’d ever seen her.

“That was not fun,” Apostolos muttered as he came to stand next to Rory. Thanks to his anima body, he didn’t physically appear injured, unlike Tsarina, the weakest participant of the recent brawl.

“He was not to be trifled with,” Tsarina said, clicking her mandibles. “And he was playing. The same as when I mentor others. I did not appreciate the role inversion.”

“No, I believe he understood the situation better than the rest of us,” Tsarina answered.

“Probably,” Rory admitted. He’d seen Zoey struck and rushed into action. It was almost more muscle memory than anything; he’d been fighting alongside Zoey for long enough that seeing her struck so fiercely was like a switch flip in him for battle mode. By the time he realized he’d perhaps been a bit hasty, he was already stuck between a rock and a hard place. Or perhaps more accurately, a shadow and a beast person.

If there was one big takeaway, it was that, all things equal, they were the side with lesser firepower; the difference between two and four Founders was stark, with the two strongest fighters of Ehkorrus barely matching up to a single Founder from afar. Perhaps it would have been marginally more equalized if they had involved Marcie as well. Outside of the top three of Ehkorrus, the rest would more than likely be liabilities rather than any real help.

Noted.

At least during the scuffle, Rory had managed to pick up a few little tidbits of information about their opposition, information that he safely filed away in his mind.

“I think it’s about that time,” Zoey pointed out after a moment as the four opposing Founders approached.

“I… apologize,” The Spear –Alice from what he’d heard Zoey say— said. “I reacted in a rather unbecoming way due to a severe lapse in judgment.”

“It is… understandable,” Rory said, considering how to best phrase it.

Man, she is really distracting.

Rory was far too composed and aged to be outwardly ogling like some sort of hormonal teenage boy, but man, something about the Spear was tickling his brain.

Thankfully, no one noticed the reaction, except for one person, as Zoey gave him a quick sideways glance.

Not now.

“I think we would all benefit from perhaps approaching this more civilly,” The Spear said, as Zoey proceeded to cough into her fist like she was covering an involuntary scoff.

“I agree,” Rory said. “We have a location prepared.”

“You must have been hit in the head hard as a kid if you think we’re going to waltz into enemy territory like that,” the Primordial Rogue snorted.

“You have my promise, sworn on Eon itself, that so long as you do not hurt our people, the strength of Ehkorrus shall not be turned upon you. In doing so, I would be willing to permit you into our home,” Rory said with one hand over his heart and the other raised slightly.

“Ehkorrus?” the First Monk raised an eyebrow. “Is that this place’s name?”

“Indeed,” Rory said, feeling very stately and courtly.

“It’s basically a pun, he ripped it from the story of Icarus and Ichor,” Zoey decided now was the perfect time to interject, as Rory sighed.

Well, there goes that feeling.