towerofanimus | Put an End to This False World

Entry tags:

Put an End to This False World

Characters: Enoch and wide open
Setting: Graveyard, morning, slightly forward-dated to when the drops in question are processed.
Format: I'm starting in prose but it doesn't matter.
Summary: A small handful of names show up in the graveyard, and they prove there just might be a right way to break.
Warnings: Hostility will be met with violence right now.

Enoch didn't know how he'd let the graveyard's significance die. He didn't know how the names on the headstones had become a blur. He didn't know how he'd become numb to this job that was once so painful. He even missed Yu's headstone until the moment it came into abrupt clarity for no apparent reason. While he wondered how he could have missed it, wished him and his guardian strength, another nearby caught his eye. He could swear his heart stopped for a moment.

He walked swiftly through the row of tombstones, turning for another pass, in disbelief.

Tohko Amano.
Raphael.
Yotsuba Koiwai.

Tohko. She'd been getting on his nerves and Lucifel's both lately, but she only ever meant the best. He'd never finished writing her his story. At least, books did not crumble on the destroyed worlds. She may not need to eat but she could take comfort in her stories.

Raphael. The first person he recognized from home. Someone he'd been able to confide his suspicion in. Trapped on a dead world with a dead God.

Yotsuba. Such a bright light in such a hostile place. Like so many children before her she'd endeared herself to him immediately. It was always easy to talk to her, even with Eleven's screaming in his mind. Having earned a place in Lucifel's heart and spending time with the both of them, it had begun to feel like a family.

He had promised her he would restore the worlds. Now she herself would fall victim to Ruana if he failed too. Someone so young...someone who had begun to feel like family.

For a moment, it seemed to nearly echo a moment from his near future on Earth, where he would encounter Belial. His fists clenched and his shoulders tightened. Anyone who could see the flaming aura at the back of his neck would see it was flaring out. Eleven screamed shrill in his mind, the only sound he could hear.

Until he screamed back.

His voice rose to drown out the one in his mind, a roar that echoed in the solemn floor. He drew another breath, and screamed again, not in fear but in anger. The third scream found words involved.

"RUANA! I WON'T LET YOU HAVE THEM!" Every word he spoke, he shouted over Eleven, his eyes alight with something dangerous. His Arch found itself in his hands, open and raised. It buzzed as he slashed at the air in front of him.

"YOU WON'T TAKE THEM, DO YOU HEAR ME?"

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Enoch is about to answer, that yes, he could use every pair of hands he can get, but when Diarmuid trails off and grows solemn, the sight of someone grieving slowly drains the anger from him in his desire to help. He reaches out to put a hand on Diarmuid's shoulder.

It takes Diarmuid a few moments to notice the gesture because he is so caught up in his grief, but once he does, he turns to Enoch and gives him a grateful smile, "Thank you. She would not want me to be sad, but every time I think of her wandering alone on a dead world... She's strong, but she's just a child. It is one thing to comfort yourself by saying someone is strong and they will be okay, but it's different with her. It's different."

"I know. It is."

Enoch squeezes Diarmuid's shoulder lightly. They had to do something. Soon. Because the sooner they secured her safety or restored her world, the better.

"I know we are fighting, but it seems so slow. I wish there was more I could be doing..."

Despite the fact he's put together so much information to help people, has been gathering real weapons for them, and doing regularly patrols the Tower, at times like this it feels like he's doing nothing. Not even helping Waver and his team on the collar fluid research is enough. None of those things are producing immediate results and that is what he wants. He wants Yotsuba and the others safe now, not a few months from now.

"Exactly...this isn't like at home. Lucifel once told me then, we had all the time in the world, before I realized I was immortal. But we did. I wasn't limited by anything but the Council's patience. The only solution was to keep trying, because success was inevitable eventually.

"But here... It may be my immortality, but even the better part of a year feels too short..."

"It is too short," Diarmuid steps away from Enoch--not because he's angry, but because he needs to be moving suddenly, "There is so much to be done and none of it can be rushed. I don't like that. I am used to being able to go out and produce immediate results." He pauses and looks up at the ceiling, "And yet for those trapped on their dead worlds, even the short time we have left is going to seem too long. Every day will be an eternity..."

"There must be something we can do in the meantime." Something that could help better their situation now...

There's nothing he can do directly for the people trapped. Nothing but ensure they will live from here.

"I don't know. I am trying to teach people to fight, as you know. I have also been collecting and storing real weapons from monsters to give to others. Beyond that, I am not sure what more to do. There is the research, but I cannot directly work on that. I am no scientist. I am only a fighter," Diarmuid sighs, frustrated. While the things he has mentioned would seem like a lot for others, to him it seems no where near enough.

"What more is there besides direct attacks on the Administrators that may get us information, but also may end up hurting us more than it helps?"

"Not on all of them. We only need to keep Ruana from draining their souls."

At least then, if they must fail, they will not become instruments of torture, themselves.

"And how do we do that? She may have limits to her power, but..." the frustration in his voice grows stronger. "The others will support her. Zo seems to like her or feel for her. Jason enjoys his freedom too much. Riki..."

Diarmuid shakes his head, "I don't know what to think of him."

"Jason isn't free...none of them are. He only has any power over us because Ruana allows it, and the same goes for the rest. If she has support, save Zo, it will be out of fear."

He pauses, and takes a deep breath. "There is a way. There must be one."

"Free enough in his mind. He gets to experiment on us all he wants. I think he cares about little else. Perhaps I am wrong, but..." Diarmuid shrugs. He had once tried to understand Jason and gotten nowhere in his efforts, "Fear is the only motivator most like her need. It is very strong and considering most of us rightly fear her, how do we even begin trying to erode the grip of fear she has on them?"

He falls silent for a few moments before echoing Enoch's words with a more even voice, "There must be one. Thinking of all the things we can't do just gets in the way of seeing what we can do. It may only be a start, but I do have real weapons that can be passed to people. You have connections to many. Do you think you can help me get those weapons out to people? I don't think just announcing it over the Network would be a good idea. The last thing we need is for the Administrators to increase their search for such things."

"Well, Jason will likely have heard you." He glances over his shoulder, searching for the bright red collar against the backdrop of the gloomy graveyard. As always, his stalker wasn't too far - far enough to feign patrol but not so far as to be out of earshot.

"...I would suggest finding other means." He lowers his voice so the retrieval unit would have to come closer. At least the urgency of keeping this quiet has helped further. "Are you still training others? Find those through your training who are proficient in the weapons you have to give."

Diarmuid follows Enoch's gaze and when his eyes fall on the unit, anger sparks across them for a moment before fading. When he speaks, though, the emotion still tinges his words even if it has vanished from his eyes, "It doesn't matter, I suppose, if he heard or not. It's not like I haven't already mentioned it on the Network. It just wasn't the point of a whole post."

He pauses, letting his voice drop, "I am already doing that. I guess I just was hoping for another method of distribution that might reach more people more quickly. It never sees to go fast enough..."

And that just comes back to the point neither of them seem to be able to escape. Nothing happens fast enough here.

"That's faster than waiting for them to get it themselves. Fast enough to arm the people who would be best to arm."

He'd put up with something like that. It was still something - each weapon in capable hands was an immediate advantage.

Diarmuid nods, "Point taken. However, if you end up knowing of anyone who needs something real and they don't have the time or ability to hunt themselves, please don't be afraid to ask or point them my way. After all, you were willing to make that sling for my friend. The least I can do is repay the favor to you."

"Of course. I don't feel comfortable delaying any more than I must."

Not now, not when the stakes have...not necessarily risen, but made themselves impossible to ignore.

Diarmuid nods and then looks off at the other graves in the yard, "If you will be all right, I think it is long passed time I saw who else I know has been added to this place. I've been avoiding it, but now..." he shakes his head. "I should not avoid learning of their fates just because it hurts. It is an insult to them and the bonds we shared."

"I will be."

He's just going to go fight some monsters, if Diarmuid doesn't want him to come with him.

Normally, Diarmuid would be glad for the company, but after seeing those graves there is a sick knot in his stomach. Talking to Enoch has made him feel a little better, but he has a feeling that isn't going to last long. If he falls apart again, he would rather not have anyone see it.

He waves to Enoch, starting off toward a nearby set of graves, though he pauses a moment to look back at the man, "Be well. Or as well as possible in this place anyway. If you ever need me, my hands are yours to use."

"You as well. If you need my help, I will do what I can."

And with that, he heads for the stairs to try to put this ill-formed plan into motion.

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Put an End to This False World

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