Lain looked down at Johan Basque, who stared up at him with his malevolent gaze. Yet, the grin on his face didn't decline. His foot had begun to lean on the glass window upon the rooftop.
"This man is dangerous, right?" Lain spoke loud enough for both Johan and Three of Hearts to hear.
Three of Hearts looked over towards Lain suspiciously.
"Of course he is, haven't you been listening this whole time?" Three of Hearts's calm expression had finally subsided, and fear had overtaken him.
"Then, the only option is to kill him."
Lain stomped down on the glass window, shattering it into a thousand crystalline pieces. Simultaneously, he reached into his coat and retrieved his firearm from his underarm holster before plummeting towards the ground. In midair, the maniacal grin on Johan Basque's face subsided, and Lain raised the 1911 pistol to aim at his head. He immediately pulled the trigger, and a loud 'bang' sounded out in the small building. The sound sent pain ringing through his ears, but he paid it no mind and rolled onto the ground before looking back up towards his foe. The left side of Johan Basque's skull had been completely blown away by the force of the bullet. However, there was still an assured, confident smile on his face.
'Fuck. One bullet wasn't enough?' The grin on Lain's face faded. In the span of five seconds, Lain had jumped down from the rooftop, fired a bullet through Johan's skull, and landed. However, Johan Basque hadn't immediately perished, and looked at Lumière as if he had already won. Then, Johan proceeded to speak aloud, reciting a chant as if he were invoking a higher power.
"You are the Lord who rests in the veil of blood, the warping of flesh, the endless time experienced in suffering, and the one who transcends physical anguish- the Demon of Pain." Johan Basque proclaimed. "Take unto yourself this offering of mortal flesh, and aid me in vanquishing these heretics who mock your namesake."
Immediately after Johan Basque had finished reciting the chant, the table on which the corpse of the deceased elderly woman sat began to glow a harsh bright red. Gradually, the flesh of the corpse began to melt like fat against a stovetop, sinking into the grain of the tabletop before coalescing into one mass of writhing liquid flesh. Lain and the others immediately realised that there were fine, ornate etchings on the surface of the table, carved by the metal tools that Johan had previously set down.
'Runes? Has he already set up a physical ritual?' Three of Hearts's face lit up with fear and anxiety. 'Were we this late, this foolish, and this unprepared? How could I have failed to think that his perverse dealings were actually linked to some greater being? Is this 'Demon of Pain' the entity who backs him? Then, he might be far more powerful than I previously anticipated. We won't survive this. There's absolutely no chance that we can beat a person at his level if he simultaneously has the backing of a powerful Demon!'
At the level of Johan Basque, it was possible to conduct ritualistic magic, usually used for the sake of invoking a powerful entity or spirit in exchange for multitudes of offerings. In Johan Basque's case, it had been the corpse of the elderly woman in exchange for the assistance of a Demon named 'The Demon of Pain'. This was why Johan Basque had not immediately died when Lain had shot a bullet clear-through his skull.
The three immediately grasped the situation, and everything was thrust into an air of perilousness. Lain, who was simultaneously the unconscious body of One of Spades had recklessly dived into danger, and the rest of them were too shaken with fear to go in alongside him. All they could do was watch the proceedings in hopes that they could free him from the grasp of the situation before fleeing. However, even then, it was likely that Johan Basque could use the innate perception of an Alchemist to track them down. Since it had to be consciously used, and Johan wasn't too wary walking home, there was no suspicion on his part. However, when it was consciously activated, they had no chance of escaping him.
Their entire plan had hinged around not initiating conflict, as it was likely that they would not be able to kill him without suffering injury. That was just how far the gap between them was. However, they could bear this cost without suffering any losses. Now that a demon had been involved, however, there was no chance of doing so. If there was any hope left, it would be to make a commotion loud enough to draw the attention of the Peacekeepers, and forgo the initial plan of stealing the Five of Hearts card. After all, the cards were not the only way to advance one's own power, just the safest option.
However, Lain didn't seem to carry the same sense of fear that the others did. Whether it was from lack of knowledge, or from a lack of caring was unknown. Instead, he reached into his coat pocket and procured a small wooden idol that had been given to him prior. Holding it in his hand, he snapped his fingers with the other, and the intricately-carved idol of a woman was engulfed in bright silver flames. Seeing this, Johan Basque's remaining eye widened slightly, but his grin didn't dissipate. Immediately, Lain felt power surge into his body. His bones and muscles creaked as if he couldn't readily contain it all, and his weariness dissipated. He walked over to the table casually as Johan Basque watched with humoured anticipation.
With a swing of his fist, Lain brought his knuckles to meet the table. With a single strike, the table shattered in two, breaking the intricate runes that had been carved in half. The red glowing dissipated, and the mass of writhing liquid flesh splashed onto the ground below. Immediately after, countless illusory ravings erupted in the air around them, causing everyone in the vicinity to cover their ears and fall to the ground in writhing pain. They were the cries of a demon who had been blasphemed. Johan Basque, Lain, and his comrades alike suffered on the ground below, desperately wishing that the ravings would cease. Lain immediately filled the air with his own illusory murmurs, attempting to drown out the maddening noise with pleas that repeatedly told him to 'stay sane' and 'keep calm'.
However, all at once, the ravings of the demon ceased. Lain and the others stood up gradually, glancing around as they realised that their anguish had stopped. However, Johan Basque remained lying silently on the ground. His flesh seemed to squirm like the elderly woman's corpse had previously, albiet in a different manner. In front of the other's gazes, the bones in Johan Basque's skin began to pierce his flesh, peeking out into the open air. Sharp tendrils protruded from his flesh, writhing madly. His eyes that were once filled with malevolence now radiated an inscrutable madness. Moreover, they were not the eyes of a human. It was clear that they were the eyes of a demon.
'Fuck, what's going on?' Thoughts rang out through Lain's head. However, they were not the true thoughts of 'Lain'. Having succumbed to madness from using blasphemy, the 'Lain' identity had become far too corrupted for Lumière to unconsciously use. As a result, it had been tossed back into his mental unconsciousness until the madness had dissipated, and Lumière's own true mental state had returned to the forefront. 'Had the plan failed? Did I not perform as 'Lain' well enough? If I can't remember it, then did I fall into my role too far? Did this reckless bastard bring me into this situation?'
As Lumière glanced up at the three who stood high above him, seemingly frozen in fear, he realised the perilousness of the situation. He was facing an enemy that none of them were capable of beating, and so they had chosen to cut their losses and watch to see if Lumière would perish completely. It was understandable. Lumière suddenly thought he would have done the same. However, despite him having gotten himself into the situation, he wasn't going to just lay down and die.
"Throw that concoction onto me!" Lumière shouted at them suddenly.
Four of Hearts and Three of Hearts looked down at Lumière in shock.
"You know what that concoction does, don't you? It'll send you into a frenzy! You'll surely die!"
"Won't I die anyway!?" Lumière shouted back in return, a grin not unlike Lain curling up on his expression.
'Is this not 'Lain'?' Three of Hearts and Four of Hearts thought in unison.
'After all, 'Lain' isn't the only identity I can use.' Lumière chided humorously in his head.
Four of Hearts grimaced. However, he had come to know that 'One of Spades' wasn't exactly a fool in most regards. He tried to act confident and crazy, but he was a meticulous, thoughtful individual. So, he reached into his coat pocket and procured the flask that had been filled with a bright golden liquid, swirling endlessly with churning strands of black. He immediately tossed it down towards Lumière, who looked back towards the disfigured form of Johan Basque as the flask shattered into countless pieces, spilling the concoction onto the both of them. Immediately, Lumière felt his mind enter a raging turmoil. It felt as if every thought he had ever thought of had emerged, and he had begun to relive them all at once. Moreover, there was an innate urge to tear himself apart, as well as anyone around him. He wished to cry, scream, yell, smile, anguish, and despair.
So, in that opportune moment where 'Lumière Croft' had entered a frenzy, he grinned and spoke aloud.
"Despair."
The space around him was immediately coated in a malevolent aura, along with a thick film of shadow that blanketed all sources of light in the area. Countless illusory murmurs erupted in the distance, and horrid bloodshot eyes burgeoned from the blanket of shadow. His lucidity began to dissipate along with his consciousness, and the shadows in the room began to shiver and twitch as small tendrils erupted.
As Lumière lost his will over his consciousness, 'he' descended from the shadows, enveloping Lumière in 'his' features. A thousand illusory crows flew down in death-spirals from the ceiling, spilling their blood in splashes against the air before transforming into a thick viscous black liquid. That liquid rose up from the ground along with the remaining crows, and 'he' was enveloped in a long fluttering black cloak. The figure that wrapped its features over Lumière's had short black hair with small strands falling past 'his' ears, and glistening black eyes that held a fatigued sense of despair. In most aspects, 'he' looked identical to Lumière, apart from black eyeliner which sharpened 'his' gaze, and a sickly pale-white tone on his cheeks.
In an instant, the primordial sin that served the ancient and evil deity known as 'The Sinner' had emerged. Lumière had taken it upon himself to experience the frenzy of the 'Philter 'e Furor' that Four of Hearts had concocted in order to simultaneously affect the demon that had taken over the body of Johan Basque. Then, he had uttered the name of 'Despair' in order to give over his body to the power given to him in order to avoid the effects of the frenzy applied to 'Lumière Croft'.
'He' gradually stepped forward before raising 'his' hand and chanted "Despair". The Demon of Pain inhabiting Johan Basque's body shrunk back gradually under the weight of Despair's command. While the Demon of Pain was a powerful force to be reckoned with, as were most demons, the strength of Johan Basque's body could not bring out its full potential, and so the innate strength of a power gifted by an ancient and primordial deity triumphed. That was the reward given in exchange for the cost of being a servant of the most ancient Sin.
With a single swing of 'his' fist, the inferior mortal form of Johan Basque was rendered into a fine red mist, splattering against the interior walls of the building as the Four of Hearts, Three of Hearts, and Three of Diamonds looked on in horror. Gradually afterwards, the malevolence of the room brought about by the Demon of Pain and Despair began to dissipate. Lumière's normal features returned to his form, and so did his lucidity. However, Lumière fell into a deep unconsciousness from the sapping of his stamina brought about by the use of both blasphemy and 'despair'.
As the three watched the processions of the battle, a single shared thought coalesced in their minds in place of their shocked silence.
'What the fuck?'
