CHAPTER 333

To describe it as a thinking creature would be a gross misunderstanding of what it was. Instinct drove it - a need to hunt, a need to survive, and a need to maintain the approval of the one it was bound to. Mannerisms were manifestations of projection, the connection between familiar and tamer. The tamer had allowed it to hunt once again, setting it loose with unspoken instructions restraining its predation. Unlike its kin, it did not pursue the humans. It avoided them. Its targets, instead, were monsters not unlike itself. Yet, for some reason, it could only see them as lesser despite their greater size and strength.

They were prey.

It sat like a gargoyle atop the small building, peering down at the street. It was far enough away from the places where the human warriors patrolled that its hunt would remain uninterrupted. Its thin, rat-like tail whipped left and right as it watched the asphalt with eyes that could see beyond the spectrum of visible light. Heat moved in the buildings around it. Humans, not prey. It turned its head, and its long, diamond-shaped ears twitched. A large shape prowled out of an alley, its heat signature close enough to perceive. Brutish and covered in plates of metal, the creature lumbered and sagged against a wall, blood oozing from its gut.

Hunger.

Hunger roared in its gullet. The mana of the other creatures had been nourishing back in that place with the insects. It had relished the taste of the mana within the beasts its tamer had brought to it some time later. It vaguely understood her thoughts on the feast. They were some manner of tribute from the pack leader of a large pack. Its tamer had arranged to save the pack leader’s lands from monsters. It didn’t care about how the food arrived, only that it could feed.

Mana was nourishing, yes, but whatever was inside the twisted things that lurked these streets made it ravenous. More than just mana - threads, fibers of something different - whatever had been used to change them into these falsehoods was helping it grow faster. Hundreds of monsters had barely dented its need to feed, yet each one of these was worth hundreds for its growth. It was long past the mindlessness of its early days; planning came easier, consideration, and something else it was on the cusp of. An awareness of… something.

It hunched its shoulders forward, and its body changed. In a matter of seconds, where its lithe hound body had sat, a white-scaled lurker now stood. Its rainbow eyes looked down on the burly beast as it staggered onto the street, too wounded to notice the predator above it. Its leg muscles coiled like springs before exploding with force, launching it from the rooftop to land atop the armored beast. It did not roar; it did not make a sound, even as the mutated brute squealed like a pig. It tore its armor plating off piece by piece before powerful jaws wrapped around its neck.

One quick twist, and it was time to feed again.

It reared its head back and opened its maw, drinking in the energy as the creature beneath it dissolved into motes of rainbow light, light tainted by those delectable threads of power. It gorged itself again and fell still. Its head swam, and its vision blurred. That strange, incomprehensible awareness surfacing again. It… he knew. He knew. Levi blinked rapidly as self-awareness crashed into him like a truck. He whipped his head left and right to shake off the strange sensation, only for it to grow more intense.

I… am?

He looked down at where the body had been as memory, once blurred behind the senselessness of an animal mind, became clear, contextualized. Intelligence was supplemented by his connection to his… Not tamer. Partner. I am… Levi. I am aware. It blinked a few more times, memories of his partner’s doting. Her struggles, her laughter, her ferocity - all of it crystallized in his mind, his fully conscious mind. He huffed, the mannerism coming naturally now as he surveyed the street. She needs me to grow stronger. I am too weak to hunt her prey. His eyes settled on another large heat signature, and his reptilian maw curled into a smile. 

But not for long.

—

“Erina Chernovna,” she said aloud, leaning back in her seat in the office. It felt very strange saying it out loud. She smiled awkwardly to herself, tapping her finger on the armrest and letting out a breath. She reached forward to take the small glass of whiskey she’d poured for herself and sipped. The Legionnaire body possessed senses in the strangest way. Her little sister’s Augment Reality ability was quite literally fooling her into experiencing the sensation of taste. Even if it wasn’t real, it was exquisite.

Why can’t that silly girl enjoy refined things? This is how you celebrate a scheme well done.

She sighed inwardly. Everything has to be sweet and flashy with her. She sipped again and enjoyed the burn for a moment before frowning. I really hope she wasn’t serious about a naming party. Social interaction is…

“You seem relaxed.”

Erina’s eye twitched, and she silently cursed herself for jinxing her solitude with that thought. She flicked her eyes up towards the source of the voice as a faint golden glow filled the room. She set her glass down and exhaled. “Hello, Pandora.” The ghostly goddess’ sad face gave her pause. She always looked sad, but she seemed worse off than usual. She sought patience with a deep breath. “You know, there is an entire world of people out there to interact with to slake your lonesomeness.”

Pandora just stared at her, those damn tears in her eyes again.

She frowned. “Another one of your episodes?” Erina asked.

Pandora nodded.

Erina sighed, and she gestured to her lap. “Fine.”

The ghost drifted forward and became momentarily solid. She felt a pair of arms wrap around her neck. She grabbed the remote off the desk and switched the monitor to television mode as the fallen goddess sought out comfort. She flicked a few stations over; it had been left on cartoons again. Sonya, she thought with slightly amused annoyance. Pandora held onto her a bit tighter and finally began to speak. “You know it’s easier for me to appear to you two because of the deal, right? I can’t just do this with anyone else.”

Erina’s thumb paused over the mute button as the channel switched to the news, the reporter mouthing silently on the screen. “I am aware,” she said. “You have your lairs at the end of the dungeons, do you not?”

“Seconds of conversation is not interaction, Erina,” Pandora said solemnly. “You have existed for only two short years. I have existed for tens of thousands.”

Erina huffed out a breath. “Sonya did express some concern about the age gap,” she said, running her thumb up and down the surface of the buttons.

Pandora scoffed. “Now you make jokes.”

The two of them sat in silence for a little while, Erina watching the mouth of the reporter move. Lip reading wasn’t difficult. Sonya possessed the skill to some degree, and she had been just a copy of her at one point in time, if a dark variation. As the minutes went on, she became more and more conscious of the glowing form curled up in her lap and wondered if the ghost would fall asleep like this. Then she felt Pandora tremble with a quiet sob.

“Pandora,” Erina said after taking a moment to compose herself. “I am… sorry, that I cannot feel what you are looking for. I have many emotions now that I am er… me,” she said. Even with her experience going it alone in Sonya’s body, it still felt strange comforting someone. “I do not think that is one of them, though. I do feel… sad about that.” She tilted her head. “I want to help, if it is any consolation. I do not dislike you, despite my often unpleasant demeanor.”

Pandora sniffed. “That might be the sweetest thing you’ve ever said.”

Erina nodded. “Probably. I would appreciate it if you kept it to yourself.”

“Of course I will. It’s going to be a cherished memory for me,” the fallen goddess murmured. She hesitated, and they fell into silence again. After a while, Pandora spoke up one more time. “...Would you be willing to pretend, for my sake?”

Erina glanced down at the head of blonde hair clinging to her and looked back up at the screen. “Yes, that much I can do,” she said and tapped the mute button. The reporter’s voice filled the room.

“...This just in, the first wave of breaking news from Shanghai has arrived. We can now confirm that after a vicious battle in the skies over Shanghai against Ishtar, the international criminal and terrorist, once hero, First Wind, was brought to justice by the heroes present in the city. First Wind is dead, and Ishtar has retreated from the city with her lieutenants. I will repeat, First Wind is dead, and Ishtar has retreated from Shanghai…”

An hour later, Erina sat alone again. She sipped at her drink and stared into space while trying not to let her mind wander too much. She didn’t want Sonya to know how she was suddenly a little more grateful for the effort she’d put into crafting her illusory body. Both fortunately and unfortunately, the sound of footsteps approaching the door to the office told her that her quiet time was at an end.

She sat up and was about to go and greet who she assumed was Sonya when she saw a faint glow at the foot of the door. She closed her eyes and turned to find Sonya as the portal above her closed. She jumped at the sight of her. “Ah! What the hell are you wearing?” she demanded. Sonya’s eyebrows were jet black and thick like caterpillars. She had heavy-looking black glasses on, what appeared to be a massive false nose, and the most childish-looking mustache she’d ever seen.

Those grotesque eyebrows waggled as Sonya grinned beneath her ‘disguise.’ “Gotcha,” she snickered, snapped a hand out to grab Erina’s hand, and laughed. “Party time, big sis! Happy birthday!”

“It’s not my-”

“Too late!” Sonya laughed and deliberately fell backwards towards the wall behind her. A portal opened, and Erina sighed as she was pulled through with her.

Oh well. Free will and my own soul doesn’t spare me from having an imp for a sister, I suppose.

–

She was not prepared for this challenge. There hadn’t been any warning when her opponent engaged. Their first move was brutal, a relentless expression of deftness and skill that left her breathless. Sonya could only stand in awe as she bore witness to that opening act in their contest. It was a test, a demonstration of skill and superhuman dexterity and deftness. Yet despite the odds, Sonya stepped up. She wouldn’t lose to her opponent.

She planted her feet, grabbed her weapon, steadied herself, and the music started to play.

Her fingers danced over the buttons as she flicked the bar up and down, her eyes fixed on the screen as the colors slid down. Her head bobbed as she stuck out her tongue in deep concentration. She could almost hear the ticking her eyes used to make, or maybe that was just her keeping up with the rhythm. The beat sped up, then the solo dropped; she bent her knees and went with it, faster and faster. 

“...we carry ooooon!”

The full-length song ended and wound down with the final section. A chime rang on the screen, and she threw her hands up in the air when she saw the score. “Woo!” she whooped, skipping back a few steps and throwing finger guns at Amos. “Heh, heh, heh! Up by one thousand! Whatcha gonna do?” she taunted and shook her hips. She turned to her sister, who was sitting at the bar with Charon. She was wearing a party hat and did not look happy about it. “Sis! Did you see that? I blasted that song!”

Erina raised her glass and rolled her eyes, leaning against the bar and crossing her legs. “Yes, yes, it was very er… loud.”

Sonya crossed her arms. “Birthday girl doesn’t know how to have fun.”

“She just needs a few more drinks in her,” Charon chortled and refilled Erina’s glass.

Sonya watched Erina give him a wry look. “I don’t get drunk, Charon. This body isn’t-” She paused as he pulled the bottle back. “I didn’t say stop pouring; I just told you that you won’t be getting what you expect out of it.”

Charon laughed and resumed his pour. Sonya just shook her head. “You could get drunk if you wanted to. It’s your birthday!” she repeated. “Have fun!”

Erina looked back at her and gestured with her glass. “I certainly could, but then I wouldn’t be able to enjoy this half as much,” she said. “Also, it's not my birthday. This is just a naming celebration tied up with partying after a successful scheme. Congratulations, by the way.”

The others all raised their glasses, Amos giving a mock salute with the end of his plastic guitar. “Hear, hear!” he crowed. “Two of ‘em bit the dust today, we’re almost there.”

Sonya smiled at her friends; the others would be here soon. “Thanks, guys, seriously. You all did great out there.”

Barry barked out a laugh. “No problem at all. That Nietz brat you brought up has one heck of a swing,” he paused and glanced down at his wrist. “As for that Crusader…” he bared his rows of razor-sharp teeth. “She left a mark.”

Kera turned away and rested her arms on the back of the couch, looking over at Erina. “Hey! When is your birthday? You sound super sure.”

Everyone, including Sonya, turned to look at her dear reflection. The two of them shared almost everything, but for all that they shared, there were some thoughts that even Erina kept private. One of them was that. What did

she consider to be the day she was born? Erina sipped her whiskey again and set it down before speaking without a hint of humor. “The day before Vegas.”

Marta, who had been sitting on the couch petting Levi, turned and looked at her. “...Really? You mean, when Sonya…” She trailed off.

“I hadn’t formed a personality yet, but yes, that was when my infant persona really took shape,” Erina said. “I try not to think about that day too much.”

“Because of the fucking myself joke?” Sonya asked with a grin.

Erina glared at her. “Yes, dear sister, because of the ‘fucking myself’ joke.”

Amos burst into laughter. “Wait, wait, what? What is this? What’d I miss? Context, please!”

Sonya opened her mouth, and a straw flew past her head so fast it thudded against the steel wall behind her. She blinked and met Erina’s hard stare. “I’ll… uh… have to get back to you on that, Amos.”

Amos cleared his throat. “Riiight,” he said before switching to Technopathy. ”Tell me later.”

She kept her poker face. ”Absolutely.”

Erina squinted at them, but Amos spoke up first. “So, rematch?”

“Get ‘em, boss! He owes me money!” Kera shouted.

Amos whirled on her. “I do not!” He turned back to Sonya and cocked an eyebrow, pulling his mess of brown hair back and putting his hands on his hips. “Burninator, double or nothing.”

She crossed her arms and looked him up and down with narrow eyes. “You’re on. Don’t cry when you lose, Goo Boy.”

Barry barked out a laugh and slapped his knee, getting to his feet. “I need a drink. Good luck, Amos.” He pointed at Sonya. “Usual?”

She nodded, and the door to the hidden lounge on the Idol opened, Colin poking his head in before slipping inside with a smug smile on his face. Carla was right behind him; she turned and waved delicately at Sonya, who winked at her. Carla was carrying a large envelope under one arm as she made a beeline for Erina.

Colin walked over to the couch and hopped over the side before slipping into the spot that Barry had been sitting in. “How bad did he lose?” he asked.

Marta, now sitting next to him, gave him a sidelong look and rolled her eyes with a laugh. She stroked Levi’s head, the monstrous familiar snoozing comfortably in her lap as his tail wagged. Sonya noted that the little killing machine seemed happier than usual. 

“Thousand points,” Sonya said and struck a pose. 

Colin whistled. “Close game,” he said and looked at Sonya. “You gotta turn it up, boss. He might get you next time.”

Sonya scoffed, walking over to scratch under Levi’s chin. The hound opened his eyes and huffed at her before going back to sleep. He’d done a lot of sneaking around and eating in Shanghai; she was sure he was tuckered out. “I’ll have you know I played a lot of this game back in college. I’m damn good at it,” she said, crossing her arms.

“Where did you find it, by the way?” Charon asked from his seat at the bar as Barry prepared drinks, and Carla handed the envelope over to Erina, who looked at it with surprise. The two spoke quietly while Charon nodded to the plastic guitars in her and Amos’ hands. “It’s out of print. Been so for a decade.”

It was Colin who spoke up. “Picked it up while scoping out a place that Private Punchable Face likes to frequent to set up some cameras,” he said before crossing his arms. “You know it was harder getting a membership for that place than it was arranging a deal with those South Sea pirates? Talk about gatekeepy.”

While the others talked about the shop, Sonya’s eyes landed on Carla and Erina. “Whatcha got there?” she asked, knowing full well what it was.

Erina, once known as Ishtar, once a split personality, a heart demon, a fragment of a fraying mind, looked down at the documents in her hands and genuinely smiled, tears welling in her eyes. She looked up at Sonya. “It’s… me.”