Monsters and humans

-12:30, the first floor of the Academy-

She took in a breath like it was her first.

Her muscles twitched, her nerves ablaze with something both familiar and alien. In every last fiber, untold strength surged, threatening to rip her apart yet miraculously leaving her unscathed.

Nimue's black hair whipped around her as she jerked to the side, breathing raggedly. Her pointy ears twitched with little coordination. Her legs shuffled as she fought to regain her bearings. Her hands curled into fists.

Something was wrong.

Slowly, as she confirmed no pain permeated her, she stopped her motions, relaxing slightly. Her memory felt foggy, like a broken mirror with its pieces scattered. However, as she looked at the walls, different from the ones she was used to, fragments began coming back. Within the shards of recollections, she recalled something particular. A name. A face.

"...Lucas...?" she **** out, turning her head. However, she could not see the white-haired man nearby. What she did notice, instead, was a lengthy corridor ridden with a faint mist. It hung at about her nose's height, creating a scene that starkly contrasted the summer temperatures outside the walls.

Suddenly, she felt the pain.

It felt like dozens, hundreds of icy needles pricking her hands and legs, their chill crawling inward until it gripped her heart. She **** herself to breathe, doing her best not to scream whilst the agony slowly receded. With shaking fingers, she instinctively reached into her pocket for the all-too-familiar vial.

It wasn’t there.

'...where is it?' she wondered, a fresh wave of unease washing over her. 'Did I... already drink it?'

She groaned softly, forcing her hands to push against the ground. As she lifted herself to a sitting position, Nimue felt the texture beneath her fingers. It was wrong, soft yet brittle. She looked down.

The red carpet was laced with ice.

A thin, delicate webbing of ice clung to her fingers, its surface glistening like shattered glass beneath the dim light. Fine, powdery frost dusted her palm, flaking off in brittle, crystalline fragments.

'...What happened?' Nimue wondered, slowly looking around. The frigid overlay crawled up the walls past her eye level, encasing the surface in delicate, web-like frost. The floor beneath her shimmered with the same unnatural sheen, the ice spreading in jagged veins outward from where she sat. Even a distant part of the corridor, visibly blackened as though heavily burned, was affected by the frost.

Then, like it had been waiting for this moment, a memory surfaced. A brief, flickering recollection.

The bang.

The bullet.

And then... ****.

Her heart almost halted, blood chilling at the remembrance.

‘I... died...’

Instinctively, her right hand lifted, touching the spot on her chest where the tiny projectile had pierced her. However, her skin felt smooth, like the wound never happened. Only the hole in her attire was proof that she had not dreamt of what had happened.

'...how...?'

Suddenly, Nimue felt a sickening lurch in her heart. A dry cough tore through her throat, deep and violent. She barely had time to turn her head before something warm splattered onto the frozen floor. Her body convulsed, and suddenly, she doubled over, heaving.

A bloom of dark crimson spread across the ice.

Her mind stalled, dimness clouding her consciousness. For a breath, she stared, her thoughts sluggish, uncomprehending. Then, the realization crashed over her like a tidal wave.

Blood. She was heaving blood in greater amounts than ever before.

Another violent cough wracked her frame, forcing more of the crimson fluid past her lips. The sharp taste of iron filled her mouth. Moments later, she felt a small, foreign object **** its way up her esophagus before she spat it away with the next spill. Tremors wracked her body, like a deep, primal urge to expel her intestines altogether.

'Why... why am I...?'

Her fingers trembled as she wiped her mouth, only to freeze once more at the sensation against her skin.

Rigid.

Unnatural.

Slowly, hesitantly, she lifted her left hand into her line of sight. Her breath hitched. Fear budded within her heart at what she saw.

The entire exposed surface of her skin was covered in a layer of ice. No, rather, it was more like small scales made of frozen vapor, a protective layer shifting with every movement of her hand. They covered her hand in a tight lattice, extending around her fingers and ending on her arm, going under her outfit. She flexed her fingers, expecting resistance, but there was none. It moved with her like it had always belonged. And worst of all, it did not feel cold at all.

'No... This isn’t-- This shouldn't happen... This never...' Her mind scrambled for an explanation. 'W-What happened...?'

Then, a sound.

Laughter.

A voice - rich, amused, and laced with unfathomable power - whispered into the edges of her mind, curling around her thoughts like smoke.

Nimue's body instinctively tensed up, her breath hitching in her chest and her heart skipping a beat. The instinctual fear almost consumed her as she shakily scrambled about, lifting herself to her feet. Her body felt weak still, but simultaneously, she sensed untold levels of power surging just beneath her skin, pulsing together with waves of cold from her heart.

However, she ignored all that. Instead, she wobbly walked to a nearby window. Hastily, she wiped the hoarfrost with a sleeve. Then, she flinched back.

Her reflection blinked back at her.

For the most part, it was her face. The same small nose, the same slightly puffy cheeks, the same pointy ears that moved according to her will. It was all the same soft features she had always known and shown.

But her eyes were where things fell apart.

Her right eye remained its usual, deep green.

But the left was not hers.

A vast golden iris sat within a black sclera, its surface gleaming like polished metal. A vertical slit of a pupil constricted, reacting to the light, yet within its depths lay an abyss, endless and consuming. A presence lurked within that void, watching her. Studying her. She knew its name.

As if waiting for her realization, Nefrelith spoke.

'<Such a long time has passed.>'

The voice curled through her mind like a whisper carried on the wind, yet it resonated with a weight that made her very soul tremble. The language was foreign, ancient, unknown, but she understood it as easily as her name.

'<You have grown up, D-7.>'

"=N-No...=" Nimue whimpered, her entire body shaking. Her eyes watered as she backed off from the window. This couldn't be happening. "=G-Go a-away... get out...!=" she pleaded. A hand went to her head, covering her left eye as though this could help.

But Nefrelith completely ignored her words.

'<Fresh air... Decades with hardly a glimpse, finally over.>'

The presence's tone was tinged with faint relief. Yet, underneath that lay primal arrogance, as if it knew itself far greater than the woman.

'<Hmm... I feel them. One of their puppets is near. No... another, too, outside the city... The demigods did not rest, it seems...>'

Nimue barely cared to listen. Instead, she tried to calm herself. Breathe in, breathe out. She could do it. Even without the vial, she could wi--

'<Relinquish control, child. It's time for you to fulfill your purpose.>'

Nimue's body stiffened immediately. It felt like a strong current of electricity ran through her body, piercing every last cell. The presence, so spread and vast, started concentrating. It lunged at her mind, overflowing every last crevice and nook almost instantly. Its strength was overwhelming.

"=...g-get... out...="

'<Hmm?>' the presence sounded faintly within her mind. '<Still resisting? You've become rather formidable, little experiment.>'

"=L-Leave me...="

Nimue's left hand moved mechanically, almost immediately latching onto her face. Her nails dug into her skin, and she slowly dragged it down. The painful sensation was like a breeze of freezing air blowing on the fiery-hot flames of her left eye. Her blood poured as pain surged at her action.

'<But that changes nothing.>'

The presence redoubled its effort, the pressure crushing. Had she not expected it, she would've faltered.

Nimue put even more strength into her hold. She could feel her skull protest against her strength, a sickening sensation of a crack spreading. The pain reached a new high.

She screamed.

"=GET OUT OF MY HEAD!!!="

No. It wasn't just a scream.

Nimue's voice, sounding like an ear-splitting screech not meant for her throat to handle, vibrated the air. She could feel the air around her freezing over, snowflakes forming out of thin air before shattering into fine dust, the surroundings rippling with unnatural ****. A few windows broke, their shattering noises barely audible in comparison to her.

The ground, the mana, and the air itself. Everything around the maid shook violently, as if the world itself were trying to stop her. Even then, her voice, filled with anguish and misery, pierced through it all.

And then...

Silence.

The frozen carpet under her gave in with a soft crunch as she dropped to her knees, almost all energy leaving her. A steady stream of blood trickled down her cheek, dripping off her chin and staining her attire further. Her hands dropped to her legs, one covered in scarlet-colored ice while the other had a visible layer of frost on its skin. However, as she slowly clenched her fingers, she could feel it. Nefrelith's impossibly large presence was fended off. It still loomed large, like a predator waiting for a chance to strike, but she remained in control. For now, at least.

'<How intriguing...>' Nefrelith spoke, clearly aware of the power shift. '<You even invoke causality at your own will... outstanding ability, if fleeting.>'

Its tone was laced with a layer of chuckle beneath untold emotion.

Suddenly, Nimue dropped to all fours. Her stomach lurched, a new wave of scarlet leaving through her mouth.

'<You cannot escape the consequences.>' it spoke, almost as if it felt vaguely compassionate toward her. '<Your time is running out.>'

She barely even registered the words.

Her mind was foggy. The blood loss was messing with her brain.

Nimue could barely focus on what was happening. Like someone pulled a curtain, she suddenly felt blind. The numbness in her body was like a web that tied her down. Her every muscle felt like it might suddenly stop working if she tried to put them to use.

Yet, she moved. Despite the fog in her consciousness, one thing still permeated her mind.

"...Lucas..." she said quietly, the word like a chant that would keep her alive.

She slowly stood up, every move a feat of strength. She was ready to collapse, but she didn't let it happen.

She needed to make sure he was alright. Even if she was only on borrowed time. Even if she only had minutes left. She would see him, even if it was the last thing she'd ever do.

-12:50, the assembly hall-

The breath of stunned silence filled the air. Lucas, Egis, and even Minerva's pained sounds calmed down. Nobody could believe what they were seeing.

Nimue stepped forward. Her eyes scanned the situation, and she acted instantly. The mana around her gathered, forming long, thin strands of pale blue attached to her fingers.

"=LEAVE HIM!=" she screamed, swiping with her hand.

The mana listened, immediately cracking like whips as the strands sliced forth. Everywhere they touched, a cut line was left, marring the otherwise clean floor in impossibly thin yet still noticeable marks.

Minerva barely managed to pull Egis toward her. The mana thread, initially aiming to cut the man in half, only managed to slice at his right leg, passing through it without resistance. A dull sound resounded as part of the limb fell to the ground, loose metal parts scattering.

Egis took in a sharp breath as he met Nimue's gaze. Then, almost subconsciously, he stumbled back, supporting himself on Minerva. The two looked at one another for a split second before stepping back. Registering the lack of further aggression from the elf, they rushed toward a door, soon disappearing from her sight.

Nimue exhaled. Her breath misted the air in front of her. Her left hand, covered in icy scales, moved delicately, the mana threads attached to it snapping as she gave up control over them.

Her attention turned to Lucas. Seeing his blood-stained shirt, she felt her heart ache. Then, it calmed down as she realized that it was not his blood. Then, for the same reason, it beat painfully.

This didn't happen... right? The bodies she'd seen in the corridors... they weren't his doing...

...were they?

She barely had time to process the situation before another cough wrecked her body. She spat to her side, the fluid more blood than saliva.

That seemed to snap Lucas out of his confusion.

"Nimue?" the white-haired man's voice was overcome with shock. "A-Are you...?" he couldn't finish, his voice shaking as he dropped his sword.

"L-Lucas..." her voice wavered. Her body shook with effort as she took a wobbly step back. "R-Run... I c-can't c-c-control it..." she urged him, desperation surging in her tone as she noticed him move closer.

A long moment of silence was stretched between the two. The black-haired woman felt her body losing the last of its strength. Her muscles, already pushed beyond their limits, protested greatly as she tried to **** herself away from the man. However, the reality of her state caught up to her, and she collapsed.

Lucas lunged forward, catching her before she hit the ground. He eased her down, cradling her gently. Her head rested against his arm. His amethyst eyes shimmered with profound sorrow and concern. To Nimue, he couldn't have understood what she had gone through. However, his stare told her otherwise.

"You have suffered greatly, Nimue," he answered gently, his hand cupping her cheek tenderly. Despite the overwhelming frost biting his skin, he did not even flinch. "I'm sorry."

"...L-Lucas...?" she gazed at him, her dual-colored eyes overcome with bafflement, before her hand gently lifted. "...n-no... you have t-to--" she suddenly stopped as his hand clasped around hers.

"No."

His firm rejection gave the woman a pause. Focusing on him better, she could see the determination of his stare intermingled with almost docile softness. His hold tightened.

"You need not suffer anymore, Nimue," he said, his thumb stroking her cheek gently.

A frozen tear escaped her eye as she quietly mumbled, trying to tell him to leave her. There was no saving her, even if he didn't know that. She didn't want to **** him to see it again. She only wanted him to escape safely.

"Nimue," he spoke, forcing her to focus. "Do you trust me?"

She stopped whimpering, the question almost out of place. She tried to whisper something to him, but her vocal cords no longer listened. Her body could not move. She had minutes at best.

Lucas leaned in a little. "Please," he pleaded. "Do you trust me, Nimue?" he lifted his hand, coated in a violet aura.

She understood immediately. And despite the immense doubts inside her mind - Lucas was no match for Nefrelith, she knew it - she could feel that something about him was different. Like a faint beacon of hope, the light in his eyes was an unwavering presence that told him to lean into it.

She **** herself to nod. The motion was barely noticeable.

Lucas's hand moved to her forehead. He gave the woman one last look full of affection before his power coursed.

Nimue's world turned black.

Lucas closed his eyes for a prolonged moment.

"I have been a blind fool."

He sighed, his heart weary.

"Ahjussi," he called out, feeling Eamon's presence close to him. "I have a favor to ask."

'(Gah, now you're listening? Typical.)'

"We can't do much more anymore. But... maybe I can save her."

'(You'll die, Lucas.)'

He smiled bitterly.

"Yes. But she'll live."

'(Why do you feel the need to be so... human?)'

Lucas paused for a split second, a hand tracing a small circle on Nimue's cheek.

"Because right now, I'm not."

A moment of silence stretched as Eamon did not answer. Lucas could feel the man's exasperation. Words he did not want to speak pressed themselves on his lips.

"...we failed, Eamon. All this was too tall an order. Even if I do live, causality will kill me soon regardless. But not him," Lucas looked at his hand. "He's not guilty of anything yet."

'(So... what is that favor?)' Eamon inquired, a tinge of hesitance in his voice.

"Tell him everything as you told me. No secrets, no half-measures. Tell him about the Eternal War. And teach him as you did me."

Eamon made a sound. It was the kind of exasperated sigh of defeat that told Lucas he was not fond of the idea.

'(You're just asking me to die.)'

The white-haired man let his head down a little. He knew the gravity of what he asked. If Eamon didn't do anything, it was possible he would live for much longer. Who knew, perhaps he could outlive his original lifespan. As a pure consciousness, he was not bound to the mortal flesh as tightly. He could live out many more decades in the back of Lucas's mind.

'(So be it.)'

"?" Lucas looked up slightly.

'(You were right, Lucas. I was afraid of failure, and it led to failure. The fact that Liveren is still breathing is miraculous. And miracles are what I want to avoid. I'm dead anyway. What's the point of worrying anymore?)'

"That was... almost reassuring," the white-haired man **** a weak smile.

'(But if I stay like this with him, it won't work.)'

"...I know. I... have an idea to handle that," he said, his gaze escaping sideways.

'(Well then. I suppose this is a farewell.)' Eamon sighed. '(You were a real pain in the ass, Lucas. Can't believe I spent two decades fighting by your side. And to think I now have to take care of a second one... I already want to die.)'

Lucas snickered. "You're really the shittiest friend I've ever had."

'(You mean, the only one.)'

"...that works too," he smiled wryly.

Lucas traced Nimue's cheek whilst fixing the woman's position in his lap. This beauty bore a burden beyond what he'd known ever before. He lowered himself gently, planting a light kiss on her forehead, before straightening in his position. A violet aura surrounded him.

"Goodbye."

Then, blackness consumed the white-haired man as he plunged himself into the depths of Nimue's mind.

...

The expanse of the white tiles outlining the corridor seemed endless. Its clinical cleanliness was dimly illuminated by a few manalamps on the walls. The numerous dark doors were closed. However, between them, a large, ornate door of a blue color stood ajar. Its chains lay shattered all over the corridor.

Lucas sighed gently. He finally understood the nature of the 'thing' behind that door. He had seen it, in a place and time nobody knew of anymore. He had even fought it once before.

'So it is you... Nefrelith.'

His fist clenched at the mere thought.

"Lucas?" Nimue's voice suddenly brought him out of his ponderings.

He turned around. The small maid stood a few steps away, her black hair swaying gently as her earthy-green eyes looked at him, curiosity written within.

He didn't answer, instead approaching her with slow steps. Lifting a hand, he traced her chin gently, the maid giving in slightly.

"Will you hurt me...?" she asked, her voice hesitant. There was the faintest tremor beneath her words.

"...never," he answered tenderly. "I could never hurt Nimue."

She smiled at him.

Then, in one swift, merciless motion, his fingers clenched around her face.

Before she could react, he slammed her head into the wall. The impact cracked the gray surface, fractures splintering outward in jagged veins.

"But not you," he continued, his voice suddenly furious.

Without a moment's pause, he repeated the motion, deepening the hole. Blood spread outward, staining the walls. Yet, even as crimson trickled down her face, her lips curled into a twisted grin.

"Impudent," she sneered, forcing his hand away with a quick gesture. Then, she aimed a powerful blow at the man's chest. "You do not understand who I am," she continued. Her eyes turned golden, the veneer cracking as the vertical pupils in black scleras focused on him.

Lucas sidestepped, evading the strike effortlessly. In the same breath, he delivered a precise blow to her sternum. The difference between his casual yet fluid movements and the maid's powerful but simple attacks was clear.

"She was just a shambling husk when I merged with her. I gave her life," Nefrelith spoke as they exchanged a few more blows. "I gave her power," her words continued as blue strands flowed from her fingers. "I gave her--"

"You talk too much," Lucas cut her off mid-sentence.

Before she could react, he was already upon her, his foot colliding with her ribs. A sickening crack echoed through the corridor. The **** of the blow sent her flying several meters back.

A shiver ran down Nefrelith's spine as she **** herself up. This might've been Dreamscape, but it didn't mean the strikes didn't hurt. The shattered bones of her body were proof of that. And yet... the man approached her slowly, not a hair on his head disheveled.

"Without me, she will die," she stated.

He flinched, halting a few steps away. He squinted, an emotion unknown to the maid stirring in his eyes.

"That's right, we're entwined, she and I," she nodded, wiping the blood from her mouth. "I saved her. She belongs to me--"

*CRACK*

"Do not speak of her like an item," his voice lowered as his fist met her jaw with immense strength. "You don't control when she lives or dies. You are not above causality."

Nefrelith laughed. "You know of it..." she half-stated, half-asked, barely making a little space from the man. "Then you know of its limitations. She needs me to live."

"You're wrong."

"...what?"

"You're the reason she's dying," Lucas stated coldly. In a flash, he closed the distance, his fist deep in her guts. "Dragons, demigods, you all paint yourself as the saviors, but you're nothing but poison."

Nefrelith groaned as she was pushed back. The moment her golden eyes met his, she felt it.

The pressure.

It was suffocating, crushing. A presence that exuded absolute dominance.

And that was when she realized.

"You... you're invoking causality? You... you're not a human..." her tone, laced with bafflement, was almost out of place on her previously composed face. This mere act changed everything. It was like a wake-up call to her. "Even so, you can't kill me. A homunculi's life is tied to its core. If I die, so will she!" Nefrelith roared.

Her words suddenly made Lucas pause. Then, he looked sideways, and she immediately noticed the emotion written within. It told her that the man knew her words were not false. He understood it.

Then, however, his advance resumed. In a flash, he closed the distance, his hand gripping the maid's neck with a vice-like grip.

"But I can separate you," he said coldly.

"...if you proceed, human, c-causality won't let you go unpunished," she said, her voice faintly shaking. "You will be erased... forgotten completely."

Lucas's expression turned grim. The maid wasn't lying, and he knew it. The cost of what he was about to do would be too grave for the world to ignore.

For a long moment, he stared at her. Then, he did something she did not expect.

He smiled.

"That's the idea."

"???"

Her golden eyes widened.

His grip tightened around her throat, crushing with brutal precision. The pressure was suffocating, inescapable. And in his eyes, she saw it.

Dominance.

"Nefrelith."

He spoke her name clearly. That was enough for her to understand. He would not back down.

"I will show you," he whispered, crushing pressure exuding from his body. "just how deep hell goes."

-12:58, the assembly hall-

A ringing heartbeat told him that he was still alive. However, the reverberating headache and burning sensations in his muscles spoke volumes about his state. Every part of him felt strained, like he could shatter if he so much as lifted a finger.

Lucas's eyes opened slowly. The world was blurry and swirling like a faint reflection of the sky in an unsettled pond. The frigid air bit his skin ferociously, but the sensation barely registered as he slowly looked around.

He felt strangely drained, worse than after anything Deuce Hunber had ever thrown at him.

'...where am I...?' he thought, squinting and trying to recall what had happened in the last minutes. He scarcely could recognize the place he was in, although its high walls and open scenery did strike his memory somewhere. '...the Academy? Why am I...'

Then, it came to him.

'Seraphina...' he remembered the green-haired elf. He went in here to save her... wait, save her...?

Lucas **** himself to focus to the best of his ability. Several metres to his side, he saw a small dome, blue in color, slowly dissipate. After a few seconds more, he just barely made out the green of Seraphina's hair, together with Cileres, the black cat watching him with wariness as the blockade disappeared. Something was off... but what?

Then, he remembered more. Nimue. The bang. Her words.

"...Nimue..." he barely whispered the name, sorrow in his voice as he shifted in his position.

Then, he felt it. Something rubbed against him.

It took Lucas a split second to realize that for this whole time, someone was in his lap. His violet eyes descended before shock set in. Her pristine skin was covered in ice, her face marred in deep marks that, while not secreting blood anymore, were definitely not shallow. Her attire was stained scarlet.

However, the most shocking thing was the same one that made him breathe with relief. She was breathing. She was alive.

"N-Nimue...?" he slowly lifted a hand, rubbing its open palm against her frozen cheek.

The black-haired beauty twitched slightly, her lips opening slightly as a misty breath left her lungs. A slight vibration went through her, as if she attempted to say something, but it stopped immediately.

Lucas couldn't understand. How? How was this possible? He saw her die. She bled out in his arms. And now... what happened?

"Lucas!"

His attention snapped upward as he heard Aveline's voice echo in the assembly hall. She breathed heavily, her face stained with some sweat that dribbled down her cheeks. A sword's edge gleamed in her hand, clean as though freshly forged.

How was she here? Lucas asked himself in his mind. But that ponder was thrown out when he felt Nimue twitch in his arms.

His sister stepped closer, visibly concerned about him. Then, seeing Nimue in his lap, she froze mid-step, shock painted on her face. Her lips moved, but no sound left her vocal cords. Her hand gripped her sword with more strength. If Lucas didn't know better, he'd have said she was preparing to strike.

He shuffled. Forcing his muscles to work, Lucas got a better hold of Nimue, pressing the elf's head to his shoulder while he lifted her. His knees protested, but he didn't care, mentally bolstering his body. Every movement sent pangs of pain through him. His vision began spinning, the vertigo fully setting in as he finally stood up.

He looked at his sister. Her eyes, the same amethyst color as his, looked past him, her attention piqued by something. However, her body blurred by the second. His vision swam, patches of darkness swelling with each thundering heartbeat.

Lucas **** a single step. That was all he managed.

"...A-Aveli--"

He didn't finish speaking before the exertion took hold.

Boundless blackness consumed Lucas as he fainted.

---

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