Blossoms of the Dark Continued

CCXXII Selene: Peacock

Trigger Warning: 

- major character deaths

- death

- gruesome modes of death

- graphic violence

- bile reflux

- blood

- gore

- mutilation

- acid

- poisoning

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Bon voyage, my foot!

I no longer have complaints about skipping breakfast this morning.

Had I known this was the fate that would await me, I would have bailed on dinner last night, too.

Suiting his physique, Gigantomachia is a titan when it comes to running.

Swift. Agile. Determined. And most importantly, bumpy. High speed plus enormous weight equals rough ride to destination. Equals Selene's motion sickness. I would much prefer Spinner's questionable driving skills over this roller coaster. Between bouts of coughing and dizziness, bile claws its way up my throat, leaving my body in the form of ugly retches. I'll have to dispose of this plastic bag soon.

Sorry Gigantomachia, for vomiting over your back.

Mr. Compress is helping me pull my hair back; Spinner is leaning against one of Machia's block-like vertebra; Toga is fidgeting with her outfit that she claims is a size too big; Dabi is being preoccupied with Skeptic; and Skeptic ... well, he doesn't seem like he wants to be here. Poor guy. I understand the sentiment all too well.

"Let me off, Dabi!" he protests. "Why take me and not the others?! I must protect Re-Destro!"

"Keep it down," Dabi replies, clamping a hand over Skeptic's mouth. "They haven't noticed us yet."

But while the heroes may not have spotted us, Gigantomachia is too hard to miss. The saying is fight fire with fire and poison with poison. To combat a behemoth, Pro-Hero Mount Lady has foolishly decided to interfere. The impact of the collision sends a tremor down Machia's spine, and subsequently, the rest of us. The one second I hover midair does not do any wonders for my stomach. More bile burns my organs.

Perhaps I should be grateful that Gigantomachia's progress is not the least bit hindered, though. I cannot see the view ahead from this angle, but watching decades-old trees uproot and centuries-old mountains crumble in his wake certainly gives me enough hope to bear with the agony. If that amalgamation of muscle and stone can be resilient, so can I. His following declaration, "I have been waiting, Master! I am on my way!" only solidifies my resolution.

Wobbling on my knees, I get up. Mr. Compress rises to assist me, but I wave his hand away. "Have faith ... in Re-Destro," I rasp out. "My clones must be assisting him ... this very moment."

That single word sends everyone into uncomfortable silence. Twice's death still looms over our heads like an omen. Even Toga seems to have fallen into the abyss of despair again. Spinner had withdrawn after we broke the news to him, but even he appears to be isolating himself once more. The revelation about my power hardly seemed to faze anyone, given the more dour tragedy that occurred earlier. I begin to doubt whether I should have offered consolation in the first place. It seems like it only brought about the opposite effect.

There is no more time to ponder when Machia clutches Mount Lady and flings her away like a frisbee. From our vantage, we see the hero somersault away, kicking up more dirt and rock on the way. Is her neck broken?