PHOENIX
𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴 𝚆𝙰𝚂 𝙰 𝚁𝙰𝙶𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚃𝙾𝚁𝙽𝙰𝙳𝙾 𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝙵𝙰𝚁 𝙵𝚁𝙾𝙼 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙰𝙽𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙰𝚃𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙶𝙰𝚃𝙴, complete with an ongoing rendezvous of rain and hail, and when Phoenix realised it was heading towards him, he paced towards the mountain. Valerie and Alysia, stumbling forward in an unexpected panic, followed. In front of the mountain, at the very bottom to be exact, lay a canopied grove. A boulder the size of a wooden chair sat a good twenty metres from the trees like isolated scrap metal. It reminded him, briefly, of his home city not long before his first protest, which happened to take place on the same day as his birthday. Industrial scrapyards were an issue in the lesser, more mundane parts of the city, particularly in the years congruent with the governor's time in power.
A twister?
"You've gotta be shitting me!" Phoenix's voice was loud, but the wind was blaring, masking it in a mute. Hell, he found it difficult to hear his own thoughts.
Hello! Is there someone in there?! Can you tell me where Chrono is, Zamora? Is he farther back, someplace desolate and hiding, maybe in a shack or something? You said he was here right? Well, go on, answer me, damn it!
Vaguely, as he padded across the land, snapping his head to the side to make sure the tornado hadn't changed its direction, he stopped by a large canopy under which a mesh of foliage and stones rested. His shoes had carried globs of mud with them, splashing in pitted undergrowth occasionally. The smell of the pastoral land wafted into his nose with as much force as a bad fart, and within moments, he reached down to the remains of his silver jacket, threw it on, leaving behind the torn-off sleeve. He ventured a glimpse over his sleeveless arm, coiled the fist, and after a moment, said, "I guess this'll have to do." Again, his voice was way too low for anyone to hear had they even been within spitting distance. And it turned out that that was the exact distance Valerie and Alysia had been from him.
"Look!" Alysia yelled, and Phoenix turned back to face her.
Mouth agape, hair slightly swamped, he trembled with finger-numbing cold. To go from one state of weather to the other in less than ten seconds was more than distressing—it was discomfiting, as much discomfiting as somebody experiences after having been thrown into an entirely new world without a recollection of how they got there.
"What is it?" Phoenix asked, realising she was pointing ahead of him, towards the Spiral. When Phoenix turned back he walked around the tree and witnessed the brown exterior of a modern-day jeep standing in the middle of the heath. He hadn't noticed this originally, partly because he was too concentrated on the fact that a tornado had been cruising blindly through the land, and partly because things were a little too dark in this area of the world. He'd known that some divisions were night, and others—his initial spawn place for example—were day. And after spending more than twenty-four hours in daylight, coming back to something like this was somewhat refreshing. And you know what would have made it more refreshing? If there hadn't been a storm. If there hadn't been a man with the ability to freeze time roaming, skulking, hiding amongst the shadows like a lost rat avoiding human contact.
I think we'd be more rat than he'd be, and Phoenix was about to continue that thought, but when a stroke of bluish white light scratched across the sky, he rocked back, startled. "What's going on?!" His question came out louder and clearer than he had anticipated.
"There's a battle commencing," said Alysia promptly. "Someone, or something, is fighting with Chrono. He must be in the mountains."
Phoenix smiled a little, remembering what Alysia had said about strength in numbers, and how much more powerless Chrono would be when surrounded. Stapling his mouth back to an impassive line, he returned, "We need to move now, if we're too late he could already be gone—"
"Up in the mountain? There's no way we'll make it in time!" said Valerie. "We should wait for him here, if we attack him all at once, he'll just do that time thingy and disappear. And then he'll know who tried to kill him."
Pulling up her bandanna, Alysia said, "Not if you keep your mask on." She flicked out a pair of star-shaped blades and spun them soundlessly.
"No, she has a point," said Phoenix. "I think . . . if we go up there and he sees that there are three of us, he'll get scared and run off. And he knows who you guys are, right? Like he knows your uniforms, if that's what they're called?"
"Of course," said Alysia matter-of-factly.
Phoenix snapped a glance at her, inquiring. "Maybe, maybe if we start with me, and I get his attention, then you two could . . ."
"No," said Alysia. "If we're going to have any shot at this, then I volunteer. You're much stronger than us, Levin. If I distract him for long enough, then you could come up from behind and take him out. You saw how quickly you killed Shadow."
"But this isn't Shadow. It's a time-controlling maniac. What if he kills you? What if he sees it coming?"
"Don't worry about me dying." Alysia patted his sleeveless shoulder, offering a sincere smile. "I do admit, you might have saved my life—well, you helped me kill an enemy, an evil piece of shit, more particularly. The least I can do is help you kill this man so we can find your friend. It is your friend you're looking for? Alex, right? Not your parents?"
"Well," said Phoenix, "I'd like to find my paren—"
Another explosion of light whipcracked into the clouded, somewhat starry purple-black sky. All three of them turned to look up at it, watching as the white line whirled and pivoted across the storm. It faded into the atmosphere without a trace. Afterwards, a white-winged figure glided—or was thrown—into the air. It spun and righted aimlessly like a wandering bumblebee, like a piece of paper delicately floating through the vast unpredictability of a windy day, like an angel, until eventually losing all control and smacking the ground. It all happened so quickly that Phoenix had to inspect his hands just to make sure he wasn't dreaming again. But of course he wasn't dreaming—so far everything he had seen, the evil, the landscape, the people, was real.
Wordlessly, Phoenix ran towards the fallen object, pulling up the hood of his jacket (the wind had blown in the same direction, meaning that it wouldn't push the hood down). He made it a quarter of the way towards the figure when he stopped, jerked back, and gasped just a slight bit. Another figure, this time almost completely black, with the exception of a purple-hued iridescence flickering at the top, caught the trail of Phoenix's sight. It emerged, seemingly, from behind a group of canopies resting at the rightmost side of the spiky mountain, which happened to be the same distance separating the portal through which Phoenix had entered from the copse.
A hand gripped Phoenix's shoulder—strong, firm, somewhat masculine. It was Alysia's. "Come back!" she whisper-shouted, just loud enough to where Phoenix could barely make out the words.
Tearing his gaze away from the figure, he backtracked behind Alysia, nodding in agreement. By the way she spoke, he could tell who this figure was; there was no doubt it was Chrono, and whatever fell from the sky had to be a person he was trying to kill. So, if they wanted to act, they had to do it soon, for Phoenix could not bear the thought of letting another innocent person die at the hands of a power that they couldn't defend themselves from.
It was an accident! I told you that!
Phoenix still couldn't help but rehearse what to say had the time come where he had to tell Zamora the truth. And he could imagine the words she would say in response, and the precise way she would put it, almost conspiratorially: Alysia brings you to me, looking for help, when you knowingly murdered two members of our alliance? That's the same amount that Chrono has taken from us! And you are just as powerful, if not more! This will be the last time you ever step foot in this world! This is where you die, for the names of Eric and Sebastian, for the Castle! You evil, treacherous bastard!
But I didn't mean to . . . Phoenix thought sadly, tears welling in his eyes momentarily.
"It's honestly fun . . ." a voice echoed in the distance, deep and more like a foghorn than anything remotely resembling humanity. "It's been so long since I've seen someone survive as long as you have today . . ."
"Fuck you, Chrono!" another deep voice responded. This one sounded much more human, in fact very old. "You coward! You're nothing without your precious power. All you are is a coward hiding behind God's generosity."
"Generosity? Is that what you think this is? My, my." Chrono let out a maniacal laugh, calming as quickly as spring showers.
Sure enough, Phoenix took cover behind one of the canopies, dividing his vision into deprived handfuls between Alysia, Chrono, and the man on the ground. He clutched the edge of the canopy, feeling the wetness soak into his fingerless gloves, and watched everything unfold with beady, nervously attached eyes.
"What sort of man goes around on a killing-spree when all we want to do is get the fuck out of here?! Do you think any of us asked for this? Do you think we're not the victims here?"
"Ohhhhhh but you are the victims, Jeremiah," Chrono responded. "You always have been." He flashed forward in the blink of an eye, now standing right in front of the man.
He's fast, thought Phoenix. Too fast! Fuck, get out of there Alysia!
But Alysia kept tipping forward, unnoticed, not saying a word. Phoenix could have sworn she looked back at him, holding a most terrified expression, but he must have imagined it, because there was no way she'd do something like that. This was Alysia, a brave, powerful person, both physically and mentally. And now had been a serious time; if she were to do so much as make a wrong move, Chrono could catch her, freeze her, and what? Snap her neck? Not on Phoenix's watch. There was no getting past the idea that that macabre scenario held some sort of possibility in his mind. She volunteered to do this, after all, with a plan in mind, involving not just Phoenix but Valerie as well.
She's terrified of Chrono, though. Will she even help Alysia and me?
Time would tell, he supposed.
"God put you here to reach the end," said Jeremiah, and within seconds he was coughing and sucking pain through his teeth. He flashed his wings forwards, causing a scraping noise to escape into the air, and out shot hundreds of sharp blades. Chrono dodged them all without a problem, snapping to the left with a speed that, frankly, left Phoenix more than surprised—it left him hallowed. He couldn't believe how fast this individual was.
"How right you are," said Chrono, "but God also wants us to die, did you not know that? How else would we reach his precious kingdom that humans have so arrogantly deemed heaven?"
Some more coughing. "You're a psychopath. God would never want someone like you to kill us."
"Is that so?" He flashed forward, now inches from Jeremiah's face, holding the collar—or what Phoenix had assumed was a collar (it was hard to tell because they were only silhouettes)—of his shirt. He let out another maniacal laugh before adding, "Where's your God now, then?"
"Enough!" a voice yelled, and this time it was neither Chrono's nor Jeremiah's; it was Alysia's, powerful, unshaking, unafraid.
Without looking away, Chrono began laughing, slowly at first, then full-throatily. When he finally straightened his posture, he turned to see who spoke to him. A flash of purple winked in his iridescent ski goggles, reminding Phoenix of Shadow. Phoenix reached up and fixed his own pair, making sure they were on tight.
"Alysia," said Chrono. "I haven't seen you in so long."
How did he know it was her? Oh, right, the muscles.
A stroke of lightning forked the sky with its pinchy blue fingers. But Phoenix didn't hear the thunder, not until way later when the silence following Chrono's response had ended.
"I think you know why I'm here," said Alysia, maintaining a ninja position, the star-shaped objects held at a diagonal from one another.
"Oh, I have an idea," Chrono said slowly. He began walking towards her at a snail's pace. "You gave up on your precious alliance, and now you want to die. How can I blame you for that? A good girl, you are."
"I've always been sick of your sort, Chrono," said Alysia, flexing her forearms, and out of nowhere the aura of white blazed. She levitated into the air. Then, in a god-voice: "You cause pain much greater than you'd be able to handle yourself."
Chrono's grin was visible now, appearing like a star behind a cloud. "You do not know pain," he said, the voice bouncing magically. "You are only a little girl, a little girl with little power in this little world. Who are you to come alone? My, my."
"I'm never alone," said Alysia angrily. Her blaze blew into an inferno. "But you are, that's what makes you an easy target."
"An easy target?" Chrono cackled, and when a second bolt of lightning zipped overhead, he paused, looked up at the sky, then back down at Alysia. He raised his arm and summoned a holographic clock above his head. It ticked loudly.
"An easy target. Your kind never wins. It is obvious that your sense of morality is stunted by the power you wished you could possess in your past life. You're weak-minded, it's pathetic."
Phoenix awaited a wave of anger to swash over Chrono, but was surprised when he stood there, laughing once again.
"Pathetic? You worm," he said, and upon the clap of a third round of thunder, he walked towards Alysia again, finding the snappy blue streaks coalesce over him. "The only one pathetic enough is the one who came to die at the hands of a god!"
"You're not a go—" started Alysia, but she could speak no further.
"What's that, little girl? Cat got your tongue? Your whole body, perhaps?" He started laughing again.
Phoenix was panicking now. He flexed his forearm, feeling the electricity course through his veins. Steadily, his hair puffed out, his eyes glowed like spirit-lanterns, and his body levitated into the air. He knew that, from this distance, Chrono wouldn't be able to hear him.
"Levin," whisper-shouted Valerie, "you have to do something."
Phoenix ignored her, closing his eyes.
"And look at you now." Chrono inhaled deeply through his nose. "As fresh as ever . . ."
"Levin!" said Valerie, a little louder.
I can handle it. I'm sure I can.
"Levin!"
Eyes don't tell lies . . . And lies are the only truths there are . . .
"Do something!" Valerie shouted . . . loudly.
Eyes snapping open, Phoenix pierced through the canopy, fracturing the wood in one great electric explosion. He lashed through the air in the direction of Chrono, fists balled with bravery, steady as a dragon coiling through a cloud of hazy darkness.
