Chapter 16: Armageddon Part III [Brutes and Blades]
Same afternoon
Amaku and Aizo made their way through the woods. The path they took, while not the clearest or smoothest in terms of how even the ground was, still had plenty of foliage for them to utilize to stay hidden. As they walked, the sound of trees and bushes rustling in the light breeze could be heard along with the sound of small animals chittering amongst them. The distant sound of cadets and robots fighting could be heard from all around them. Luckily, the noise sounded far away enough for the duo to not be too concerned.
The two eventually found a relatively smooth path that they could walk down. As they walked side by side, Aizo turned to look at Amaku with a curious gaze.
“So…mind if I ask you something?” he asked. Amaku turned to him and after a moment of silence, he nodded.
“How did you hear those guys coming?” asked Aizo. “Because I like to believe that my senses are pretty well trained and I didn't even hear a peep.”
“My quirk allows my rage to augment all of my physical abilities,” said Amaku. “That includes my senses of hearing and smell. It’s an odd side effect that kicked in during a training session when I was a kid. We never really figured out why it only enhances those two senses and not the other three.”
“Huh… cool,” said Aizo. “You know, since you mentioned training, that chokehold you did back there, takes a lot of practice to learn how to do without accidentally… well… i-it takes a lot of practice, is my point.”
Amaku’s eyes darted back and forth in confusion.
“...And?” Amaku shrugged.
“I’m just wondering where you learned to do that?” said Aizo.
Amaku did not answer this question immediately. All things considered, the two were still strangers to one another. However, when he took into consideration the things that they’d been through thus far, he began to consider that perhaps it was best to try and strengthen their alliance. After a period of silent hesitation, Amaku spoke.
“...My aunt,” he said. “She’s a retired pro hero, taught me just about everything I know about close-quarters combat.”
“Was she?” said Aizo. “Well then, might just be me, but strangling a man like you did doesn’t exactly seem like a heroic act.”
“Well, she was a Night-watcher. When you take up the task of fighting the scum of Japan in the black of night, you tend not to be too concerned with how heroic your actions appear to the public.”
Aizo’s head suddenly turned to Amaku with intrigue.
“Your aunt worked with the NW agency?”
“The very one,” replied Amaku with a nod.
Aizo was silent for a bit, analyzing the information that Amaku had just given him. After about ten seconds of silence, he once again resumed the conversation.
“Your aunt, what was her hero name?” he asked.
“She went by Guardianess ,” replied Amaku.
“ Guardianess? ” Said Aizo with a sudden interest. “Did her costume have a black hood with a feathery cape, white tactical waist belt, military-style vest, gloves and boots with bird-like talons, and a creepy raven mask with red glowing eyes?”
Amaku looked at Aizo, slightly taken aback by how he almost perfectly described his aunt’s old costume.
“...Yes,” he said, a bit lost for words. “How do you-”
“I used to be a Night-Watcher fan when I was a kid,” said Aizo. “Probably one of the literal tens who supported their work. Since they weren’t all that big on public appeal, I used to check on social media a lot for those rare eyewitness sightings. The one clip I’ll always remember is Guardianess taking on five or six armed bank robbers solo and then disappearing into the night.”
Amaku was silent for a few seconds, surprised by Aizo’s enthusiasm.
“Really?” Amaku asked. Aizo nodded in response
“... Hm,” Amaku grunted and then was once again silent for a short while. As they continued to walk, Amaku let this revelation sit with him. The Night Watchers weren’t really known for their public image, or lack thereof, but rather their proficiency of using the night’s cover of darkness to wreak havoc and instill fear in the hearts of the criminal underworld. They were good enough at their jobs that their methodologies were called into moral and even legal questioning. The following years of controversy and growing public disapproval eventually led to the disbandment of the organization. To find someone who cared enough to remember the details of his aunt’s costume was a surprise to him.
Eventually, the two emerged from the foliage and came across a clearing twice as open as the one that Amaku had landed in. As they made their way across it, Amaku made an inquiry of Aizo.
“So… since we’re on the topic of training, where were you taught to use a blade like that?” he asked.
“Hm?” Aizo said, turning to Amaku. “Oh, uhm… a good chunk of my training came from the commission, but my Mom also taught a little bit.”
“Is that so?” asked Amaku. “She works for the HPSC, I take it?”
“Not quite,” replied Aizo. Amaku was visibly confused by this.
“Then… why would your mother need to be proficient in wielding a sword?”
“Well, call it fate that we met, ‘cause my Mom was also a pro hero,” Aizo replied. “The whole blade thing was part of her getup.”
Upon hearing this, something immediately didn’t add up for him.
“Really?... And she supported your participation in the program?”
Aizo slowed down and remained silent upon reaching the clearing.
“... She… didn’t really have a say in the matter,” said Aizo, as he spoke, his tone shifted from a bright and curious one to a more serious and subdued one, leaving Amaku wondering what could have caused the sudden change in his demeanor.
“What do you mean?” He asked. Aizo didn’t say a word. When Amaku got a look at his face, he noticed his expression was twisted with a mix of gray emptiness and sorrow. Amaku knew this expression all too well. His eyes widened as he realized the answer to his question.
“…I’m… I’m sorry,” said Amaku in a genuine, somber tone.
“It’s fine… you couldn’t have known,” said Aizo, assuringly putting up a hand.
“Look… If it’s all the same to you, I…”
Amaku then gently put his left hand on Aizo’s right shoulder.
“No need to explain, Aizo,” said Amaku sympathetically. “Not to me… not for that.”
Aizo looked at Amaku for a short moment of silence, a mix of muted shock and slight intrigue on his face in response to Amaku’s sympathy. He then nodded to him respectfully. Amaku responded with a subtle nod of his own.
“Besides,” said Amaku. “This is neither the time nor the place. We must remain-”
Suddenly, Amaku froze as his ears perked up in response to the sound of twigs snapping from beyond the trees. Then, for a split second, Amaku saw what seemed to be earth protruding upward while also traveling straight at them from behind Aizo.
“Look out!” yelled Amaku. With little more than a second to react, his first action was to push Aizo out of the way of the incoming rocks. However, before he could evade or defend himself, he was met with a chunk of earth which perturbed from the ground and delivered a sudden blunt force to his abdominal section. The attack knocked the air out of him and sent him back several feet until his back slammed into a tree. Amaku fell to his knees, taking in a huge gasp for air with one hand holding him up on the ground and the other held to his stomach.
“Brokuma!” yelled Aizo, running to his aid. But before he could reach him, something swooped in from the trees and grabbed him, dragging him into the woods. Amaku, struggling after the attack to bring himself to his feet, turned towards the direction that Aizo was taken.
“A-Aizo…” he grunted, holding a hand to his stomach and breathing heavily. After a moment passed, he finally rose up from the ground and was about to give chase. However, before he could pursue it, a huge wall of earth rose from the ground and blocked his way.
"<You've got more immediate problems to deal with,>" a voice said from behind him.
Amaku quickly turned his head around and was met by the hulking stature of one of the two brothers, Krush, who emerged from the foliage surrounding the clearing.
“<We gave you a chance, pal,>” he said. “<We offered you a hand when no one else would, and you turned us away.>”
“And even now, I don’t regret my decision,” retorted Amaku, taking his hand away from his stomach and slowly turning to face his attacker. “No matter how dire my situation may be, I’m not one who will betray those who’ve shown me kindness… something that you and your ‘master’ refuse to understand.”
“<… The fuck did you just say?>” seethed Krush, clenching his fist and glaring at Amaku.
“You heard me,” said Amaku, moving his hand away from his stomach. “Your brother’s nothing but a miserable cowering snake who goes around trying to get people to turn on each other and there you always are, following him around like a loyal lapdog, bearing his teeth at anyone who threatens his leash-holder.”
For a short time, Krush glared furiously at Amaku, his body shaking, his teeth gritting, and his fists clenched so tightly it seemed like he was ready to compress coal into diamonds with them. Amaku was ready for him to retaliate out of frustration. However, to his surprise, Krush’s frustration seemingly disappeared as his body stopped shaking, his hands loosened, and his grit-exposed teeth turned into a confident grin as he chuckled softly and sinisterly.
“<You can call us a snake and a dog all you want, but we still managed to get the drop on you and your friend and separate you,>” said Krush. “<Get all yer’ fancy insults out now, pal, because the fact still stands that you’re the one who’s exhausted and alone. So if you wanna get to your partner and my brother…>” Krush then raised his arms to about shoulder level, straining and grunting as they rose up. As he did this, a small hill elevated his position and numerous large boulders rose into the air, floating behind him. Suddenly his name made much more sense to Amaku.
“<Then you’ve gotta get through me.>”
Amaku returned Krush’s challenge with a concentrated stare. Though he attempted to project strength, deep down, he was feeling anything but strong. The damage and fatigue of his last two encounters as well as Krush’s surprise attack was starting to catch up to him. Not to mention that his barrier, which he’d been using quite a lot until this point, required him to divert considerable amounts of his quirk’s energy, energy that could otherwise be used to increase his physical capabilities. On top of this, he could not maintain the barrier and attack at the same time, an unbreakable mental block. There was also the fact that Krush was clearly quite efficient with this earth manipulation quirk of his. Even from the little he’d seen, Amaku could tell that he was capable of utilizing his quirk with commendable power and efficiency. That, and there was not telling what other methods he had of utilizing said quirk. No matter how he looked at it, Amaku was brought to the conclusion that he was at a significant disadvantage here.
Regardless of this, he was not about to let everything he’d done be for not. With a strategy formed, Amaku put both arms at his side and clenched his fists tightly. He then closed his eyes and took a deep breath in through his nose. Upon completing the breath, he opened his eyes, which were now glowing red with focussed anger. He aggressively grunted as he clashed his fists together, resulting in his muscle mass expanding and his red and black aura ignited. With his quirk once again active, he took up an aggressive fighting stance, staring defiantly at Krush.
“Very well then… challenge accepted.”
Meanwhile, Aizo was being taken further into the forest, his captor swinging from tree to tree. A few seconds later, Aizo was flung into a smaller nearby clearing, tumbling towards the center of it. Upon recovering, he looked up to see that his assailant was Stitch. To Aizo’s surprise, Stitch’s arms were stretched out to an extreme degree as if they were made of rubber.
“<Well, well, well. Looky what I just caught,>” Stitch said with a smug grin as his arms retracted and returned to their normal length. “<I’m actually kinda impressed; the big guy managed to make a friend. Not that it’ll help him.>”
Aizo quickly got back on his feet, staring at Stitch with focused eyes.
“I had a feeling you two would make a move on Brokuma,” said Aizo. “Then again, if what he said is true, I’m surprised you didn’t just try avoiding a fight altogether.”
“<Oh, well aren’t you fuckin’ clever?>” said Stitch sarcastically. “<But the big guy should be the least of your concerns. I’d worry more about yourself right now, if I were you.>”
“Oh really?” said Aizo, constructing an old-Greek-style Xiphos with his quirk and taking an offensive stance. “I hate to break it to you, pal, but it’ll take more than a rubber band with arms and legs to worry me.”
In response to this, a sneer formed on Stitch’s face. He then reached down towards his boots and from them, pulled out two long, old-looking steel knives. He then twirled and flourished them until he finally got into his own aggressive, street-punkish stance.
“<How’s this for ya, then?>” Stitch taunted.
With the appearance of these blades, Aizo was filled with questions.
“ Where the hell did he get those?” He thought to himself, his face remaining focussed to hide his confusion. “ He didn’t have them during his initiation. He must’ve had them in his bag and then grabbed them before we dropped. But how the hell did he even get them on board without the commission… unless… doesn't matter now. I need to take him down and get back to Brokuma.”
In his left hand, Aizo then constructed a second xiphos sword, brandishing them both skillfully and directing them towards Stitch in an aggressive stance.
“Bring it, you skinny little shit,” said Aizo.
Stitch was momentarily surprised by Aizo’s gall and the appearance of this new shield, but this soon shifted to amused chuckling and a confident smile.
“This’s gonna be fun,” said Stitch with malicious glee, briefly twirling his knives. “COME ON!!!”
The two then charged towards one another, Stitch with his knives held at his sides and Aizo with his swords held in a cross-guard in front of his face. Aizo was prepared for a close-range encounter; however, before he was within striking distance, Stitch suddenly stretched out his right arm at great speed. Aizo, nearly caught off guard by this move, barely managed to shift his body to the side as the knife grazed his sweatshirt and flew right past him. When he turned back to Stitch, the knife wielder closed the gap and swung his blade at him. Aizo quickly defended with the sword in his right hand, the knife remaining mere inches from his face. In the corner of his eye, Aizo saw Stitch’s extended arm retracting. He quickly turned his attention to the blade that was coming in behind him and used his left sword to block it. He was now trapped between the two aged blades, which were slowly growing closer and closer to him despite his efforts to hold them back. They eventually got close enough to him that with every strained rapid breath, he could smell the scent of light rust from the knives. He then turned to see the look on his attacker’s face. His expression displayed a smile twisted with glee and malice. The violent glare in his eyes instilled deep concern within Aizo. It might’ve been that his opponent was caught up in the moment, but it almost felt like Stitch was actually trying to kill him.
With the blades closing in on him, Aizo quickly released his guard and ducked under the blades, which clashed against one another with a loud, metallic clang. While in a lowered position, he quickly delivered a strike to Stitch’s abdominal section with the rounded pommel of his right xiphos. The knife wielder groaned in pain as the pommel dug into his stomach. Aizo performed a quick and powerful leg sweep which knocked Stitch off his feet and followed up with a downward pommel strike to the gut, forcing him to hit the ground hard and land flat on his back. Aizo then skillfully transitioned himself to be positioned right on top of his opponent and then brought down both of his blades upon him. In the little time he had to react, Stitch performed a cross guard with his knives, stopping the swords from reaching him, but just barely.
“Yield!” Aizo demanded through gritted teeth. As the two struggled in their clash, Stitch mustered up all his might to create a gap between Aizo’s blades.
“<Not…on your…fuckin’…life!>” Strained Stitch. Upon creating his opening, he caught Aizo off guard by extending his neck out towards his opponent and delivering an unexpected headbut to the nose. Aizo loudly grimaced in pain and fumbled back from the surprise attack, the swords in his hand dematerializing. Both fighters staggered to their feet, Stitch keeping a hand to his stomach and Aizo holding the edge of his hand to his nose. It wasn’t broken, but it was bleeding considerably as he stared at the red liquid pouring onto his hand. After about twenty seconds or so of struggle, both combatants managed to bring themselves back to their feet.
“<Not bad,>” said Stitch. “<You know what you’re doin’, I’ll give you that. But you made a massive mistake, showing me mercy.>” He then twirled his knives and once again took up his aggressive, street punkish stance with his knives. “<‘Cause I don’t plan on showin’ you the same,>” he sai, his narrow green eyes staring intently at Aizo.
Aizo, meanwhile, was still hunched over, seething heavily through gritted teeth while keeping the back of his hand to his bleeding nose. After a moment passed, he got fully upright, whipped the blood away from his nose, conjured a new pair of xiphos and assumed a defensive stance, extending the sword in his right hand out towards his opponent.
“Nor I you.”
