130. Sealed Evil
After their battle ended, Averyl opened a portal back to his
mansion, where he and his nephew were able to take a brief rest. Dull gold frames
decorated the dark wooden walls and floor of the basement chamber, which was
lined with shelves of trinkets and treasures – relics from Averyl's own adventures.
In one corner sat his own personal Regeneration Tank.
"Vance, you did wonderfully back there," Averyl said
with an honest smile, as he watched his nephew step out from the tank.
"Great," Vance muttered, running a hand through
his short spiky hair. Despite the rest, he still seemed to be in a foul mood. "Now
can we go to Bakersfield?"
"Actually, I was wondering if you would indulge me in one
more diversion before we go," Averyl chuckled. "I–"
"I'm out of patience, Averyl!" Vance screamed.
"I want answers – straight ones, the ones you can never seem to give me.
Besides, I don't like the idea of leaving Wendy alone with those two goons for
so long."
"Oh?" Averyl's eyes lit up. "You're that
fond of her already, are you?"
Vance shot his uncle a dark glare. "We're friends. Of
course I care about her. That's what normal people do."
"Wendy can take care of herself," Averyl went on.
"You should know, you've sampled her power firsthand."
"Just get on with it, then!" Vance growled.
"What do you want me to do now?"
"Oh, it isn't another challenge," Averyl said
slowly, as he pulled a black-and-gold mallet out from within his cloak. "More
of a reward of sorts."
Vance groaned. "What the hell is that supposed to be?"
"Something that once belonged to a man named Maximilian
Trujillo." Averyl smirked. "Crafted by Mixam Gradia, architect of the
Guild."
Vance thought for a moment, then remembered. "Trujillo?
The 3rd Knight Captain?"
Averyl passed the shiny mallet between bony fingers. "This
is the Campeador, claimed by Zhang Guo after he murdered poor Maximilian
during the Belmarcian Tournament. I found it on the monk after I, in turn, killed
him. I had heard tales of Maximilian during my time with the Zodiacs. He possessed
a rather strange hobby, you know. And so, after Pandemonium, and en route to my
rendezvous with Wendy, I uncovered his collection."
Vance watched in curiosity as Averyl cut open a portal in the
storeroom, revealing a chamber in a dimension beyond. Within, he saw an
opal-walled room filled with rows of illuminated stone sculptures. A ladder at
the southern end led to ornate iron scaffolding, seemingly built to allow
visitors a chance to view the art from a safe distance.
"This is the Stone Garden," Averyl explained, "located
in the basement of Maximilian's private villa on the outskirts of Israfel City.
Mixam Gradia, architect of the Guild, is the one who created this tool
originally, but Maximilian's the one who put it to use. Over his lifetime, he
used it to petrify a hundred depraved criminals."
"So you want me to fight a hundred people that lost to
a Knight Captain." Vance threw his hands up in exasperation. "Some reward!"
"They're aware of all that has happened to them, even
now," Averyl went on. "Some have been trapped for only months, while
others, years. When confronting them, Vance, you must ask yourself one thing:
how different is it to face a hundred people weaker than you, instead of only
one?"
Vance sighed. "If I can get out of this alive, my
training's over, right?"
"Over...forever." Averyl smirked. "Earlier,
I announced to the entire room that an honorary Knight would be coming in to finish
them off soon. I also promised that if they defeated you, they would all be set
free."
"You know..." Vance curled his taut hands into fists.
"I sympathize with them. I know what it's like to be trapped in the same
place for a long time."
"This is the first light of hope they've ever received,"
Averyl teased. "While you're only fighting them because I told you to,
their desire, their rage, their reason for fighting...it may prove to be much
stronger than yours, Vance."
Vance's charred boots clacked softly on the white tile as
he stepped through the portal into the Stone Garden. Ghostly eyes stared out from
petrified prisons, patiently awaiting their chances to live once more.
Vance stuffed his hands into his pockets and stood tall.
"So how are we going to start this? If you break the hammer, will they all
be released?"
"It would be unwise for me to destroy such a priceless
artifact," Averyl said coyly. "Don't worry, this won't take long."
In a flash, the Albavitrean was off, touching the rear end of
the Campeador to each statue. By the time he'd made it through the ten rows
of ten people, auras were already flaring, and the ones in the front had leapt
toward Vance.
Some were disoriented, while others burned with desperation
and determination. In the next instant, a mass of armored freaks, cloaked
mysteries, and weapon-wielding maniacs converged on Vance. It was like each of
their individual auras had been swallowed up into a dense star of concentrated
malice. None of them seemed to possess metapsynergy, but the sheer magnitude of
all the anger that had been focused on the teenager still made him stop in his
tracks.
The mass of people smothered him, but Vance was prepared. A
hundred killers were nothing compared to one Averyl.
"Kill him!" Cries echoed through the chamber. "Murder
his ass!"
The shouts intensified as the prisoners closed in. Some had
clearly been driven mad by their isolation, while others were simply overcome
by rage. Despite their various states of mind, they had begun to work together
in a twisted harmony.
A dark mauve blast of psynergy came at Vance directly from his
left, which he canceled out with his superior aura. Tracing back the particles of
the blast to its owner, he was able to create a portal and smack the attacker
back through the entire room without ever seeing who it was.
As he drew his left hand back, a swarm of tiny psynergy bullets
flew toward the rest of his body. Simultaneously, more blasts came at him from
all sides, and a heavyset woman swung a gigantic morning star toward his head. Mere
seconds had passed since the battle began, and Vance was already losing his grip
on things. With the southern wall of the subterranean room at his back, he
reached down deep inside and unleashed an aural explosion. Caked with Vance's
psynergy, groups of bodies were propelled backwards into more resilient
fighters. The chamber creaked and moaned in response to the sudden flux of
metapsynergy, which Vance desperately tried to keep harnessed.
"You know," Vance shouted, "I could just
cave in this room right now and warp out. Save us some time."
Averyl hung from the exit ladder with a monkey-like tail,
enjoying the festivities. "Vance Darcouver, taking 100 lives in a single
blow. Yes, I would certainly like to see that."
No, Vance thought quickly,
remembering the tournament, and Eden. We said we wouldn't turn out like them...like
Grayson....
As the miasma from Vance's burst cleared, he was surprised
to see over half of the group on the ground, either writhing in pain or unconscious.
Huddled on the far side of the room were 30 convicts with their arms interlocked.
They'd layered their auras on top of each other, which explained how they were
still on their feet.
"I told you this would work," a white-haired,
muscular man in a toga said to the others. "You may not like it, but the
only way we're going to leave this place alive is if we work together."
"Shut up, Dillion!" a man with a long white-and-black
tuft of hair and a fur coat shouted. "After two long years, I'm finally
free! Kaiser Baylord will reign supreme once more – and no one will stand
in his way!"
"What an amazing feeling," a lithe elf with shimmering
brown hair in a witch's hat crooned. "I'm in control of my body again. I'm
alive!"
"I thought this day would never come!"
"I'm just disappointed that I wasn't able to finish off
Maximilian myself..." another spoke.
"Tell me about it!" said a woman clad in a thick
steel suit of armor lined with hatches. "That son of a bitch sent his own
little flunkies out to weaken me, then jumped in when I had my guard down and froze
me!"
"He was a coward and a weakling, that's for sure,"
the man named Dillion agreed. "But he isn't the problem anymore. The only
one we need to kill to get our freedom now is this little shithead."
"Vance..." The elf murmured. "That boy's name
is Vance. We just need to kill him!"
"Use your abilities!" Dillion shouted. "If we all come at him
together, he'll screw up somewhere!"
The woman in the armor let out a grunt and bent over. Out
of the hatches in her armor dripped oozing globs of fluorescent green goo.
The elf in the witch's hat also prepped an attack, running
his fingers up and down his silver-inscribed clothing. "Feast your eyes on
my fashionmancy!" With two stomps, his brown leather boots sent cracks
ripping through the ivory floor. "Quake Boots!"
Vance took a flying leap to avoid the rifts in the surface and
watched as Dillion leapt up to intercept him. This prisoner had a face like a
bulldog, with eyes that were dark and dire. Vance watched as orange psynergy
flowed out from the scars that painted Dillion's body – hardening over his entire
body like a grotesque scab, elongating and sharpening at certain points. One of
these gnarled spikes met with Vance's fist and was shattered on the spot. Dillion
did not quit, and raised a kick as he continued to fall next to the Albavitrean.
This time, icy hot metapsynergy from Vance's backhand shattered all of the scab
armor that ran across the man's leg.
Dillion fell to the ground with a thud, and Vance's right
hand was on his neck in an instant. The criminal raised his arms in one last-ditch
attempt, but his elbows were each flicked and broken by Vance's left fingers.
"Go on, kill me, then," the aged man said
listlessly. "I have nothing left to live for anyway. Over the years I spent
in that abyss, I thought about it all. I'm nothing to the universe. And neither
are you. It doesn't matter if I die, so why should I care? God knows how many
times I've prayed for this goddamn room to cave in on me."
The rest of the chaos seemed to fade away as Vance focused
on Dillion's despair.
How am I supposed to fight people like this?
"Go on, kill me!" Dillion spat out. "Just kill
us all! We're living garbage! I'd rather die than be imprisoned again anyway!"
"He's right..." Averyl's voice drifted down from
above. "Why do you hesitate, Vance? He even wants you to kill him."
"Shut up, Averyl!" Vance screamed. He could feel
his fingers digging deep into Dillion's throat. An ounce of strength further,
and the man's life would be extinguished. "Stay out of this!"
Averyl giggled as he saw a cloaked man screaming and waving
his hands in a ritualistic fashion.
"Satan guides my path..." a guttural voice chanted.
"And by His will I, Mort, curse the being known as Vance!"
Vance felt psynergy pushing its way into his mind, attempting
to paralyze him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then expelled it as
though he were pulling a knife straight out of his chest. Violet psynergy
raged, knocking the man to the ground and flooring many of the others behind
him.
Meanwhile, Dillion continued to struggle despite his broken
arms and injured body. From Vance's eyes, he looked pathetic, like a bug squirming
under a child's magnifying glass in the hot sun. It made him want to both cry and
scream.
"Hold up!" the fashionmancer shouted.
"Swathinagerb's up to something!"
The green goo from the armored woman crept up to Vance's
boots, and she raised her voice with glee. "My mucus has just turned this
entire room into my playground! Die, Vance!"
With that, Swathinagerb sucked her arms into the armor and
began sliding across the goo like a penguin.
"Now's our chance!" Another prisoner closed in on
his target and pulled a long spiked implement out from a sheath on his back.
"Taste my Mythril Pike!"
As this man's vocal cords pulsated, psynergy-charged vibrations
exploded from his throat and slammed into Vance's ears. Gritting his teeth,
Vance withstood the pain, slipped his free hand through a portal, and smacked
the Kaiser's head down to the tile.
At the same time, Vance strengthened his barrier to hold off
Swathinagerb and her goo-smattered armor. After a crackle of energy, she flew
back toward the opposite wall.
"Why are you prolonging this?" Dillion gargled.
"Either let us go, or end our torture!"
"He's right, Vance..." Averyl murmured.
"Kill them all. You know you can..."
"I'm not going to kill just because you want me to, Averyl!"
Vance insisted. "There's no point to this!"
"Even though that man's a murderer and a rapist?"
Averyl continued. "Andy Dillion, age 57...55, if you subtract the years he
was trapped as a statue in here. He was notorious. With his smooth talking and friendly
demeanor, he lured innocents into his clutches, then violated them, mutilated their
bodies, and feasted on them, all just to fulfill his demented desires..."
"You're lying!" Vance shook his head and stared at
the sagely expression on Matt Dillion's face. "You're just saying that to
make me kill him! It doesn't matter one–"
"Why not?" Averyl's voice quickened. "You
plan on killing Grayson Lee, don't you? Do you know how many innocent people
he's killed? How do you decide who deserves death, and who deserves a second chance?
What gives you the right?"
Torpedos, bombs, and psynergy blasts continued to rain over
Vance's head, weakening his defenses. "He killed my mother, Averyl. I have
the right...to get revenge."
But as he spoke, Vance started to feel like he wasn't making
much sense. Still, his anger kept him firm. Just this once, he didn't want
Averyl to be right.
"Open your eyes, Vance!" Averyl scoffed. "Trust
me, it feels good to let go of everything. Murdering can be fun..."
Vance let out a growl and shut his eyes.
"I'm just like them," Averyl continued, "and
yet you ally yourself with me. Who are you to say what's fair? You're just so
intent on clinging to a belief that you're somehow more righteous than those
you hate – that somehow you're more deserving of victory, and that's what will push
you forward."
"Shut the fuck up!" Vance screeched. "Fine! I'm
no better than any of you! You happy now?!"
Averyl tittered. "I'll say it once more, Vance. Open
your god-forsaken eyes!"
Suddenly, something clicked, and Vance scanned his mind. Half
of the auras that filled the room were already on the verge of extinguishing.
"No..." Vance's voice quivered. "No... wait,
I... I didn't..."
"Please, Vance!" Eden's visage begged. "You can't turn out like
them!"
Vance finally released his hand from Dillion's neck and
glared up at his uncle. "You tricked me! You set this up so that I'd kill
them by accident, because you knew I wouldn't do it on my own! You forced me to
kill dozens of people!"
"I forced you to do nothing." Averyl smirked.
"All this death was wrought by your own two hands, nephew!"
As Vance struggled to accept what he had overlooked for the
past few minutes, he suddenly felt a sharp implement slicing through his flesh.
The disturbance in his heart had been enough to shut down his defenses, which allowed
Dillion to easily raise his right leg and stab a scab-armored heel through the
teenager's lower back.
"Hurts, don't it?" Realizing he had a chance at
survival, the killer's countenance instantly changed. "Now set me free."
Rage bubbled up within Vance, suffocating him. Inside his
mind stood a pyramid of anger, and at the bottom, Vance could see his old self:
an out-of-shape, slightly pudgy teen with a spoiled countenance and a vengeful
heart, curled up at the foot of his own tantrum monument.
Slowly, he began to climb.
[Bruce.] You're so stubborn, and you won't listen to anyone!
You're just like a child!
[Winslow.] You bully the weak just to feel superior. You
act conceited to mask your own inferiority complex – you're pathetic!
[Cliff.] I wanted to be your friend, but you wouldn't let
me! You just kept acting like you were smarter than me, all because you were
afraid that I'd steal Eden away! What's wrong with you?!
[Grayson.] You took everything from me...and I couldn't stop
you.
[Edward.] You were so intent on forgetting about mom
that you leapt at the chance to marry a whole new woman like it didn't matter! Why
did I have to have a father like you?! Why couldn't you have been stronger?!
[Eden.] We promised to protect each other. Why didn't
you come for me in Pandemonium? What changed? Where did you go?!
[Averyl.] You're toying with me, manipulating me, and you
say you're doing it all for my mother. Why didn't you protect her in the first place?!
Why did you wait until now to tell me everything?!
Vance reached the top, and his ego shattered, making
everything crystal clear. He couldn't believe he hadn't seen it until now, it
was so obvious.
[Vance.] It's always been me. Either I'm projecting, or
I'm jealous, or...
He could see himself now: a bearded man with a mane of
black hair and pale, wrinkled skin, lying face down in a pool of blood.
It's always been you...
Slowly, the old, dying Vance raised his head and parted his
cracked lips.
You've always been your worst enemy.
Next: In My Darkest Hour
