This wasn't real.
From the chilling breeze blowing across a wasteland, to the desolate reality of an orange-lit sky.
None of this could be real.
The clanking noise of monolithic gears slowly rotating in the clouds beyond the horizon seemed to heavily detract from reality. Which is why, this could only be a dream; a highly sophisticated and realistic dream where Kurome could even feel the specks of dust and dirt carried in the wind impacting her skin, but still a dream nonetheless.
She shifted her feet uneasily, only to finally let it sink in that the previous stone wall she had been standing on had been replaced with compacted dirt and soil. Even the earthy smell was the same as if she was in a forest or a field of grass rather than on the battlements that would have at least offered protection.
Right now, she and the entire defending army were exposed out in the open in a world where everything had practically changed in the blink of an eye. Worse, through her heightened senses, she could easily tell that this was no mere illusion.
Everything had changed.
Her pupils dilated, her blood pumping furiously within her as adrenaline coursed through her veins.
This wasn't possible. No Teigu could possibly do this.
Then what if it wasn't a Teigu?
It was the one question Kurome had been constantly avoiding ever since she'd first thought of an answer. It was a power that went beyond physics and common sense, and into the bounds of imagination itself, said to be nothing but mere fabrication. An error in the Empire's history books.
Magic.
Staggering back, Kurome stiffened when her left knee bumped into an object protruding from the ground. On closer inspection, a small cut had already formed over her skin just from brushing up against the object, denoting a highly sharpened edge.
She glanced down, then really took notice of what was around her as the shock of magic's existence began to wear off.
Weapons, an endless expanse of them going even beyond the plains and hills for as far as the eye could see.
The very object Kurome had bumped into was a sword that shone with a radiant luster both demonic and holy. Engraved in an archaic script that Kurome could just barely sound out through the Empire's common tongue, was a name.
'Slayer of Dragons.'
Her finger traced over the blade's fuller, her mouth sounding the script out. " Bäl′… mŏŏng."
Light flickered from the sword, before the feedback translated into an arc of energy that repulsed Kurome's touch and scalded her hands, burning away the combat gloves she wore. She didn't even react. Such a scene was something that she'd seen numerous times before during the Empire's selection of individuals to wield its strongest armaments.
Which meant to say-
Her eyes suddenly scanned every single sword and weapon scattered in this world.
All of these were Teigu.
From the moment she understood, comprehended the sheer magnitude of that revelation, she was already shivering with a type of terror that coudln't be easily shaken. Her current status as an elite Empire assassin was largely in part to her status as a Teigu user, and this was only with the strength of one.
She began counting all the weapons scattered across this world one by one, and knew that she couldn't possibly count them all. The forty-eight original Teigu the Empire had prided itself with didn't even amount to even a fraction of this armory.
Which begged a revelation when Kurome seemed to sense a duplicate of her own Teigu in this world.
What if all Teigu originated from here?
From the very beginning there were already rumors that all Teigu originated with magic at their base. However, their production method had long since been considered lost or irreplicable. The secret of a Teigu's manufacturing and the magic imbued within them should have 'died' with the First Emperor, but perhaps the damning truth was already before everyone's eyes.
She saw others numbly try to pick the Teigu up, but the results were exactly as expected. Many were repulsed, or the ones that did manage to pick up a blade were left clueless of how to use them.
Like Kurome thought. One couldn't just carelessly pick up these weapons, and this was doubly so for the particular ones with unique aura and temperament. It was never the person who chose a Teigu, but the Teigu who chose the person.
But perhaps…only the true Emperor could own them all.
The way Kurome had once regarded the fool who'd walked up to face an army on his own abruptly changed, much as it did for everyone else who bore witness.
In any era, the actions of a single man spoken of in history may be seen as nothing more than a fabrication or an exaggeration, but not all things that are unbelievable are fake. Sometimes, even the moments captured by one's own senses carry more weight than what the mind may wish to deny.
Wind began to blow, growing in strength and accompanied by an emerging storm of radiance exuded from the luster of a single blade held aloft in hand.
Many were unfamiliar with this sight including Kurome, but for those who understood its significance, they braced themselves for what was to come.
"Light of Selection."
The man's voice was a steady echo of unwavering will and resolve. His figure, grew ever larger despite being only one against an army. His gaze, steady as iron and steel.
Kurome shielded her face, the glow of the sword getting brighter and brighter as cracks formed along its length. Then, splitting into fragments held together by intangible golden energy, the entire sword dissipated into motes of magic carried in the breeze at the behest of a sole cry.
"Illuminate the wicked."
Magic energy expanded in a storm of crystallized legend's overload, enveloping all.
Kurome squinted, startled by what then lay before her in a shower of golden-like sand.
T-This light.
Everywhere she looked, the light seeped, carrying a warmth and glow that she couldn't hope to describe, let alone comprehend. Instead, she could only observe her fellow comrades for clues.
"Wave," Kurome muttered, staring dumbly at the blinding white above his head, and then compared it to the gray shining above her own.
What did this mean, and what effect did the Teigu the man used have?
She just didn't know, but in the end, there wasn't even much time to consider. It became readily apparent that the light over her head and Wave's were the odd ones out in the capital army.
An overwhelming sea of black could be seen spanning along the heads of the capital defenders.
Whatever this colour denotation meant, it caused the expression over the enemy's face to twist in what Kurome could clearly recognize was bitter rage.
"All of you…How could you?" The man visibly shuddered, shoulders trembling from disbelief. "How could there be so many?"
So many what? Kurome tried her damndest to digest the words for hidden meanings, but all she got in her scrutiny of the enemy leader was a face that quickly set into an expression of unbending resolve.
The man did not utter another word from then on, and merely raised a beckoning arm.
One by one they came. First in flashes of blue light, then in arcs of energy that pulled up dozens upon dozens until the numbers blotted out the sky. There was no longer any point in counting.
"Unlimited Blade Works," Kurome uttered the name of the magic she assumed was invoked.
An arm was raised, and a goddamn sea of floating Teigu answered.
This was truly- the rightful Emperor.
The child Emperor couldn't even compare.
Her legs froze beneath her, the itch in her throat making her aware that she was rasping for breath under the pressure those weapons gave. Her pupils dilated; her attention focused on every minute detail she could see. On this day, she finally understood what it felt like to stare death in the face.
There was no mercy.
Time seemed to freeze for Kurome as she watched that man- no, that monster swing his arm down to unleash a veritable storm of steel.
Cold mist abruptly rose to the heavens, crackling and forming into a ginormous wall of thick ice that rose in challenge.
"Oooaah! The general! The general is going to take action!"
Esdeath was making her move.
A foot of ice formed, followed by layer after layer until it far exceeded the density of numerous fortress walls. And then, the deafening sound of unrelenting impacts echoed, chipping and blasting away at the ice that persistently reinforced itself. Chunks and shards pelted over the area, forcing Kurome to dodge the errant projectiles.
As if noticing that the attacks were of little effect, the barrage of steel stopped as Esdeath walked forward, hoarfrost and cold mist wafting over her skin. A provocative leer was plastered over her face, before the wall of ice was sent tumbling forward to flatten the enemy army and leader.
Please. Please.
Kurome found herself wishing against all hope this would be enough. If that monster was killed, then this world, this scenery, surely, it would all disappear?!
"Ig-Alima."
The evocation of a name crushed any sentiment of an easy end.
A sword that could fell mountains manifested in the air. Its sheer size rivalled the entirety of the capital's walls combined. Its edge alone bore down on Esdeath's tide of ice, splitting it in half. The fragments immediately ejected out, threatening to crush all beneath their weight. A single slash would not do, but the work of the first sword was already done, and a new one came into existence.
Kurome felt numb even as a blistering heat engulfed the air. These two weren't humans.
"Sul-Sagana."
A sword of flames and molten magma just as large as the first appeared. The dawn that splits even the sea.
Fire spread out into a high wall that instantly caught the falling debris of the ice within tongues of an inferno.
The caught ice melted into rain under the heat, then into a misty steam that blanketed the divide between armies. The shift in temperature gradients formed a vacuum of air that staggered all those trapped within in it.
Esdeath's hair billowed fiercely in the gale, but she didn't so much as blink. The man that stood opposite to her was much the same, the two assessing each other for the first time in live combat.
Kurome felt her knees going weak. I-If these two fought, what was the point of the army? Collateral damage? Fear crept into Kurome's head.
Under the watchful eyes of all, the blade of flames and magma abruptly vanished, while Esdeath made no further moves to activate her ice.
The two beasts just stared each other down.
In the end, Esdeath broke the standoff by gesturing to a distant hill away from the battleground of the two armies. She could tell what Shirou was thinking with just a glance. He wouldn't be free to fight properly if he had to consider the safety of his subordinates which was quite cute if Esdeath thought about it. She wet her lips, eagerness and the understanding that this was their battlefield exciting her to no end. She would leave command of the defense army to Liver, just as Shirou would leave it to Chouri and Elaine.
The Partas Dance of Beasts would begin here.
In the end, the two leaders wordlessly followed each other to a nameless battlefield, leaving Kurome and many others who were holding their breaths to sigh in relief at their departure.
"T-The general will handle him," Kurome stammered while speaking to Wave, praying desperately that Esdeath would keep that monster out of this battle. It takes one monster to kill another.
Wave did not answer back, still shaken but what he'd just witnessed.
"Focus damnit!" Kurome suddenly screamed at him, knowing it was more for her terrified self than Wave. Her fear of death had never been stronger. If one wanted to live, you had to fight. If you can't fight or prove useful, you die. "The mission stays the same even here. The general will defeat the rebel leader, and the Jaegers will eliminate the enemy commanders! Wave!"
"I get it, I get it," Wave clapped his hands over his cheeks, features hardening when he noticed the front Kurome was putting. He wasn't going to be the one to put her down when she was already trying so hard to practically stop her knees from trembling.
Whether Kurome realized Wave's inventions or not, she was thankful that she could use his example to ease her nerves. If someone as naive as Wave could compose himself, then she was all the more capable of doing the same. This wasn't her first battlefield, nor was it the first time she'd experienced death on a battlefield. However, this was the first time she'd ever felt so outclassed that she would have likely fled like a coward with her tail between her legs if she was the only one fighting.
Kurome took in a deep breath, crimson eyes scanning the distant hill occupied by the enemy army.
The central command was at the crest of that hill surrounded by infantry composed of a mismatch of turn-coat Empire, Wakoku, and Revolutionary members at the center. The left flank was a mixed unit of mounted cavalry and elite foot soldiers. They fly the colors of a Calla flower emblazoned over a billowing flagpole held by a guarded flag bearer. The right flank carried artillery and a mismatch of dated canons donated by supporters from towns outside the capital. At the front, members of a group Kurome could recognize came from Wakoku were flaunting bare-chested muscles and sun-kissed skin. Rather than wearing armor, their robust physiques denoted the type of strength they likely possessed. This group was led by a tan silver-haired woman with a burning motivation to end this war as soon as possible in her eyes.
Compared to the Empire…
Kurome grimaced, assessing the state of her own side with a critical gaze. She didn't have to be a commander to predict the outcome of this clash, especially when everyone was still caught up in the rightful Emperor's momentum.
The defenders formerly mounted on the capital's walls were not prepared for a ground battle at all and were entirely disgruntled. In fact, if not for Liver reminding them that Esdeath would have them killed for negligence, it was likely that the army would have fallen entirely into disarray: an utter embarrassment to Esdeath who treated this battle as her most important campaign of her life.
Just as the general's ice could protect them from that Monster's hail of steel, that very ice could simply crush them for their uselessness.
Liver's words were less of a warning, and more of a reminder. Besides, Liver appeared just as invested in this battle as Esdeath herself.
As expected of one of the general's trusted men, his enthusiasm and loyalty were second to none.
However, Kurome would have never known that Liver was more interested in what the enemy would think of such a lousy army than he was of the Capital army's survival. The black light over the heads of many soldiers only further cemented Liver's opinion that he shouldn't care about them considering the meaning of the light he'd inferred from Kalance Plains.
Everyone everywhere was hastily getting into formations.
From the looks of things, even the enemy side was just as rattled by the sudden change in terrain as Kurome was, but they were at least more disciplined. They maintained their deployed formations and didn't waste the opportunity to take initiative when they realized how disorganized the capital army had become.
"Wave, we can't stay here," Kurome warned, watching the enemy side send out its forward vanguard unit to test the waters.
It was those bare-chested brutes. They weren't like the barbarians with bulging muscles and pulsating veins, but instead, they all possessed the sleek musculature of trained athletes and endurance hunters.
The moment they dug their hands into the dirt and pulled out boulder-sized chunks of earth to pelt the capital's hastily built infantry line with, was the moment Kurome inwardly decided she would steer clear of them. That kind of strength was abnormal, and what's more, their war cries of 'FOR THE WEDDING!' unnerved Kurome just as much as the unit's increasingly flustered leader.
Some sort of psychological warfare?
It did not matter.
Nodding at Wave, Kurome dashed to the Empire's left flank in a bid to conceal herself and Wave until they were close enough to the enemy to infiltrate and strike through to the command post. By then, the enemy had deployed its left and right flanks while leaving the central infantry to act as guards at the command base.
"Kurome," Wave called out to her.
"I know," Kurome muttered back, shelving her hopes of facing an incompetent leader. The commander should be Chouri, or Najenda from what Esdeath had shared with the Jaegers prior to the battle.
This wasn't going to be easy.
Shifting her weight, Kurome yelped when Wave suddenly pressed a hand over her head and forced it down, the two of them falling into a tumble over the dirt.
Bang!
Kurome flinched, realizing what was happening.
The enemy's artillery unit- no, but they should have been focusing fire on the center. Then…a marksman?
The thunder of gunfire popped overhead and the nearest infantry alongside her tumbled and fell like a limp noodle. Bastard was dead before he'd even hit the ground. The others behind reacted almost without thinking. Their bodies moved even as they began to lose their heads to panic. The men, some even on horses they'd brought for prestige, tucked in low and began darting their eyes in every direction to find the puff of smoke that often accompanied a gunshot. The shot's sound told them more or less in what direction to look, but the exact location was still lost to them. They hoped desperately that the puff of smoke or the loud ejection of a bullet round could tip them to their assailant. It took the infantry men only a couple moments to discover there was no puff at all, and the cowards on mounts then darted off as their legs strangled the middles of their horses to hold them fast.
Fools.
Kurome urged Wave to let go of her, and together, the two of them began weaving and crawling between the panicking infantry men. Standing up was basically asking for death against a skilled ace. The cover the others around provided would make it less likely for the sniper to locate her and Wave in the chaos.
Even if this meant that the two were occasionally trampled, Kurome could endure it if it meant living.
Bang! Another shot. Another bastard ate dirt.
Wave fumed, indignant on behalf of his 'comrades.'
Kurome did not even bat an eye at Wave's naivety, more focused on surviving.
Agitated, the remaining infantry drew their weapons and shouted curses as they blindly charged. The frontmost three were less than thirty meters away from where Kurome assumed the sniper to be. Sure enough, when they were less than twenty meters away, the first three suddenly shuddered and died. The worst off was flung in the air and fell on his neck, snapping it and dying instantly as he gurgled and bled.
This wasn't the result of simple gun fire.
Bang!
This time, Kurome carefully tracked the trajectory of an energy blast sniping down the rest of the suicidal bastards. The present assault was the work of a Teigu. Kurome was certain of it.
"Trip wire!"
A new warning came, not from her, but from Wave who gestured at the wire directly in front of them. The fact that they were crawling on their stomachs meant that they had enough clearance to shimmy under, but the rest would not be so fortunate.
Narrowing her eyes, Kurome noticed several threads of silver wire spreading around the area at shin-level before rapidly tightening at the infantry's blind charge. Carried by momentum, the charging men sprinted right into the wires practically as sharp as a blade's. Several dug straight into flesh, and limbs were lobbed over the air.
Kurome clicked her tongue before she and Wave continued crawling amidst the piling corpses to look for another point of entry to the enemy's command post. It was not the job of an assassin to fight like these military men anyway.
The metallic scent of blood wafted up her nose, and Kurome deeply inhaled it, her features growing somewhat crazed.
Having made their way out of that kill zone, Kurome focused on how she'd infiltrate the enemy ranks. She wasn't recruited into the Jaegers for nothing.
Drawing out her Teigu, Yatsufa, a sword embodying the march of the dead, she began to draw upon its power. An odd glow encompassed the blade before she stealthily approached the enemy left flank and took the opportunity to assassinate eight of their members by the fringes of the unit.
Soon enough, those she killed began to rise from the dead, and turn on their former allies under Kurome's instruction.
Yatsufa was a sword that allowed the user to reanimate the corpses of those it killed.
Kurome allowed a ghost of a psychotic smile to creep onto her face as she noticed panic appear in the enemy's movements. After all, it was never psychologically easy to pull a trigger on a dead ally, and this was exactly what her Teigu was known for.
This just proved that morality still existed in people's hearts, and Kurome was more than willing to exploit it if it meant not dying and reaching the objective.
The disturbance her Teigu caused was enough to provide a break for Kurome and Wave to slip into enemy lines by masquerading as injured allies using stolen enemy uniforms.
Unfortunately, Kurome heavily underestimated how tightly knit this unit was. If she really wanted to infiltrate, she should have gone to the right flank.
The left flank went under the name of 'Calla.'
None of them would be unable to recognize their own, and Kurome and Wave's faces were entirely unknown.
"!"
Wave suddenly shoved Kurome forward before a sword nearly stabbed into her throat. They were encircled immediately, forcing Kurome and Wave into dire straits. Black armor deployed over Wave's body, covering him from head to toe in a durable metallic defense and augmented attack power.
Kurome was a different story. Her frail body of flesh and bone would die if struck by a single lucky stab, causing Wave no end of concern for his ally.
"Koro, maul them!"
Help arrived when least expected.
A large dog over four meters tall appeared barreling directly into the crowd without heed for safety. It's cartoonish features and proportions belied a mouth filled with serrated teeth, and muscles that bulged with each movement. It ripped and tore into the enemy, easing the tension surrounding Wave and Kurome.
"Justice always prevails!" An upbeat woman landed beside the two, grinning from ear to ear in the bloodbath she and her 'Koro' were causing.
"Seryu," Kurome nodded in relief at the arrival of backup.
Seryu Ubiquitous was another member of the Jaegers. Unlike Kurome, she was jovial, and far more prone to cozying up to her comrades with a big grin plastered over her face. She had auburn hair and amber eyes that sparkled with righteous fervor. Her hair was worn long in a ponytail, and as typical of her, she wore the military uniform in favor of a dress or gown.
Ordinarily, Kurome would steer clear away from her. She may be bubbly and upbeat, but behind that was a stubbornness that saw all that opposed the Empire as evil, and evil did not need mercy. Of course, this was how Seryu normally was, but the realization that the enemy may in fact be a rightful heir to the Empire may have subverted some of Seryu's views. Honestly…it was complicated.
Kurome had no intention to find out what her fellow Jaeger was thinking when the light had bathed everyone, but the flickering gray than black light over Seryu's head revealed her inner turmoil.
Seryu was likely burying her doubts in the blood of the enemy, and Kurome wasn't about to stop that.
"The enemy leader is on the opposite side of that infantry defense line." Kurome shared her views with Wave and Seryu. "We need to breach through and kill him to eliminate the enemy's chain of command."
"Roger." Wave nodded between the black visor over his face.
"We'll handle it!" Seryu gave her affirmative.
This was all Kurome needed.
Wave and Seryu began their assault, Wave taking the lead and punching the ground with a heavy fist. The earth cratered, a large depression forming with Wave at the center that rapidly expanded out to destabilize the enemy forces position. Seryu leapt between the shifting ground and had Koro swallow and grind anything that ended up in its mouth.
As for Kurome, she couldn't waste this chance!
Leaping upward and onward through the gaps she could see, she kept her head low and infiltrated the enemy ranks. This time, she refused to let others see her face, and merely let them notice her stolen attire. Unless she was stopped and inspected, it would be difficult for anyone to recognize her when they were too distracted by Wave and Seryu.
The image of former Minister Chouri directing field operations soon entered Kurome's line of sight.
As she'd expected, it was Chouri in command.
Relieved that it was not a former Empire general like Najenda, Kurome elevated her chances of a successful assassination to seventy percent. Chouri was not Najenda. He was old, and grew up without a military history on the field of battle. Even now, he looked more like a scholar than a army commander. However, Kurome also knew that Chouri had military training with a spear, enough so that he could supposedly pass it onto his daughter.
She had to consider this carefully, especially when she had the element of surprise on her side. An unknown like her walking up to Chouri for no reason would surely raise all kinds of red flags, and Kurome wasn't naive enough to believe that Chouri didn't have any stationed guards.
However, in the end, it was worth the risk.
This was the initial purpose of the Jaegers to assassinate lead figures to begin with. If she couldn't even do this, all that awaited once word of failure returned to Honest, was death.
Hardening her resolve, Kurome surveyed numerous people surrounding Chouri, many of which seemed to just be ordinary soldiers. Be that as it may, there had to have been at least one capable guard stationed near him.
She had to tread carefully.
Slowly, she began to creep forward, searching for an opportunity.
However, in keeping her head low to approach Chouri's position in the first place, Kurome failed to properly assess just who was stationed to guard Chouri.
A blade came swinging towards her back, forcing her to raise her lowered head and move. Her features were immediately exposed, the military cap on her head even falling to the ground and letting free her shoulder-length raven hair.
Shit.
Kurome glowered, her lips pursing, knowing that her early exposure would heighten security around Chouri.
More importantly, her previous attacker wasn't likely to stop at one swing.
A follow up strike would surely follow.
Kurome hastily dodged, only after doing so did she realize that the attacker had intentionally missed by a wide margin.
"Kurome…is that you?"
That voice.
Kurome froze, features growing vacant as she stiffly turned her gaze around.
A shudder suddenly traveled down her back.
'Traitor.'
Feelings of betrayal then clouded all else.
"...Sister," she seethed, staring down the face of her attacker.
'You who abandoned me.'
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Fate: Kill
FantasyDeath and corruption. A rotting Empire, and a man who would sit at the heart of a revolution. In a dark world of constant death and deceit, what place will a man whose only wish was to save others be able to carve out for himself? Created by Parcasi...