tal danced and sparks sang.
Morgan weaved through the storm of swords and the waves of hands, wielding twin smoke-swords to deflect that which he could not dodge. Still, it was an uphill battle, growing steeper by the second. The incoming Malkuth thralls showed no signs of slowing -- and at any mont, Praetorian Five could just convert them into more swords.
He gritted his teeth.
The tiny Praetorian hovered high above the battlefield, occasionally moving to dodge a beam of heat launched from Rufus’ shield. Morgan clenched his fist, the hilt of his smoke-sword shifting to accommodate him. He knew if he could just get over there, he could take that thing’s head from its shoulders… but clearly it knew that too. It wasn’t just using height as an advantage -- it was orchestrating the swords around it to fend off anyone who tried to move in.
This was infuriating. It wasn’t just that Morgan felt powerless -- he could handle feeling powerless -- but that he felt he was only just powerless. If he could just reach a little further, move a little faster, he could end all of this with the swing of a sword. That was what boiled his blood.
Powerless.
Useless.
Worth --
A rainbow light washed over Morgan from behind.
"Huh?" he blinked. He turned his head. He did not dare believe…
…but there it was.
In the distance, from atop a building on the battlefield, a multicoloured aurora was shining into existence. A veritable thunderball of Aether, cracking and thrashing as it lit up the night. But not just any Aether. His Aether.
Morgan’s grip relaxed slightly.
Wu Ming.
"I have to say, pal," Wu Ming grinned. "You got good for a second there. I’d be sweating, if I still had the pores for it. You only made one mistake…"
The Black Dog tried to pull away, to no avail. At the mont its attack had made contact with Wu Ming’s head, that entire side of the Clown’s face had unravelled and wrapped itself around Black Dog’s hand, binding it tightly in place. Wu Ming grinned with half a mouth.
"...you had to go and act all spooky. So slow? I an, I’ll give you a seven outta ten on the theatrics, but you gave a good half-second to respond. Not good, not good. When you do that kinda thing…"
His grin widened.
"...you get this kinda thing."
He swung his head, flipping Black Dog with just his own neck strength and slamming it into the concrete below. Deep cracks erupted in the surface of the roof as the beast’s body made contact, shadows spilling away like blood before being pulled back into the central mass. The creature screeched in what might have been pain, or what might have been frustration, but Wu Ming didn’t take the ti to consider it.
After all, he still had work to do.
"You know what?" he giggled. "I tell a lie. You made a second mistake too… although, I don’t think you could have done anything to avoid that one. I’m just that good, after all."
Wu Ming’s feet had changed too. They’d unbound themselves into structures like roots, winding across the rooftop -- and entangling the four massive heads that, until monts ago, had been attacking ceaselessly. They hung in the air, occasionally twitching, red Aether sparking from their empty sockets.
"Ol’ Curse Hand gave the idea. Just a little bit of delicacy, just a little bit of infiltration…"
The red Aether shifted into a rainbow hue.
"...and your Aether constructs beco my Aether constructs."
They changed shape instantly, the four hacked heads straightening and rising into pointy spikes that surrounded Wu Ming and his quarry. As more strings lunged out from the ground to secure Black Dog fully, Wu Ming shook his face free and back flipped out of the border he’d created. He grinned and crossed his arms as he landed, like he was taunting an animal in a zoo.
"Restrainer Towers," he explained, slapping his palm against the nearest tower. "They’re a pain, but this ability gets a little ssy if I don’t prepare for it in advance. You ought to feel lucky. Not many people get to be hit by this."
Black Dog writhed and thrashed against its restraints, but too late -- even as the strings and ropes snapped, Wu Ming was already launching his attack.
While Black Dog had to escape the circle, Wu Ming just stood there, a soft smile on his lips.
While Black Dog had to fight for its life, Wu Ming needed only to raise a hand and bring two fingers together.
While Black Dog had to break free, Wu Ming had never been bound… not once in his life.
Snap.
String Theory: Black Hole.
What Wu Ming created between those four towers was not a true black hole. Even for him, such a power would be impossible. What he brought forth into reality was only a fignt of his imagination, his own conception of a black hole, a dark void that pulled in and devoured everything…
…but, then again, Wu Ming had a pretty good imagination.
The Black Dog howled as the singularity appeared above it, as it was dragged forth into oblivion. Its body was cut into pieces by the remaining strings -- and those pieces flew up as a reverse shower, disappearing into the black hole’s shroud. Even the howl was eaten in the end -- suddenly cut off, only its echo remaining as an auditory corpse.
Wu Ming whistled as he watched. Even with the Restrainer Towers, the pull of commandeered gravity was imnse -- his long hair hung in the air like a curtain. It took all that he had -- okay, not really -- to tear himself away and turn towards the trail of destruction their battle had created.
First things first. Did Aclima and Nael live through all that? It’d be a bumr if they got crushed by debris.
Wu Ming adjusted the shape of his hands, creating an ability to help him dig through the rubble, and took one step forward.
He didn’t take a second.
Instead, as he opened his mouth to take a breath, sothing sprayed out. Sothing that should not have been in his body anymore to begin with. Sothing red. Blood.
Wu Ming looked down… and saw the long, black blade that had pierced through his chest.
Oh… shit.
The Black Dog spoke.
"D-Did… you t-think…" it began in a halting, discordant voice -- and then, as if its consciousness had cleared its throat, it continued with a soft and articulate malice: "Did you think you could kill with an attack like that, Wu Ming…? Zero out of ten."
Wu Ming twisted his neck to look over his shoulder. The black hole still hung in the air, still pulled at everything in range… but sohow, impossibly, a huge black arm had languidly reached out and speared Wu Ming on its fingernail. As it crooked its index finger, lifting Ming into the air -- gravity pulling him further down the digit -- his mind boggled.
How had it done this?
How had it survived inside the black hole?
How had it managed to turn his own attack against him?
Oh. He’d said it himself.
"Just a little bit of delicacy, just a little bit of infiltration... and your Aether constructs beco my Aether constructs."
Wu Ming blinked…
and my big fat mouth.
…as he was pulled back into the jaws that had been stolen from him.
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