The man only scoffs deep in his throat. "To find her? You mean to find her?! You fool! Would you throw yourself into this ocean of curses and resentment?! To kill something is to gather it dying curse upon yourself! But they are hardly discerning! They will consume you as well as their original target--are you saying you are willing to brave that?!"
[He crosses his arms, drawing himself up without flinching, his tails lashing back and forth behind him; Crobat hovers close by, watching the two of them warily.]
Without question. Their original target . . . Ritsuka? Then isn't she already braving it? What am I supposed to do in that case, turn back and leave her to drown in it all alone? That isn't happening, so you may as well not waste our time.
"Of course her," he says. His tone is matter of fact, but there is a fervent gleam in his eyes, and he smiles by baring his teeth; the longer he talks, the faster and more ringing his tone becomes. "Who else! A Servant does not live long enough for this sort of thing! And in the end, a Servant is merely the tool; it is the Master who must carry their sins upon her back! And yet, she will throw herself into it again, and again, and again! If she drowns, then it is the choice she has made!"
And then, abruptly, he goes still again, staring hard at Saturn. "Knowing that, would you still go forward?"
[He stares hard right back. The monologues do give him time to not breathe and avoid the bloody air, so between that and the helpful ozone, his head is clearing, and his voice is steady.]
He laughs, a loud ringing sound, flinging his cloak partly aside and striding forward. The closer he gets, the stronger that staticky electric field around him gets, and the clearer the air smells.
"Very well! If you are foolish enough to dive into the depths of hell for the sake of a foolish sinner, I shall loan you what you need to make your way."
"You will need it, if you mean to survive. Do you think I was exaggerating, when I called this hell before? Hardly! If anything, I was being generously kind! These are the depths that true Hell could only dream of! The Devil would weep at the sort of things that the human mind may conjure for itself--never mind the demonic beasts that have met their end at her hand! You have done well, to ally yourself with me."
He's walking as he talks, at least, the confident stride of a man who knows his way very well. In the hazy glow that surrounds him, it's obvious that the blood is shying away from him, as if it fears his presence. It leaves a slightly clearer path in his wake to follow.
[Saturn follows, keeping close, and Crobat follows slightly behind him, completely silent. She's echolocating in the dark, keeping her defenses up just in case.]
I see. But you . . . these things don't touch you in the same way. Only because you're a Servant? Or something more than that? Because you're Avenger?
Crobat can tell there are things out in the darkness--huge things, looming and unpleasant, moving inaudibly among the dark waves. The smaller ones are about human-sized; the largest one is impossibly huge, a colossal horned and winged creature that has her head turned in the direction of their little party, watching but not (yet?) moving.
Avenger, though, only snorts. "Any Servant could wade into these waters and come through alive, if not entirely intact. But to leave these things be would only allow them to gather their strength and to grow. A curse is hardly a dead thing. It lives, it breathes, it consumes, it grows. And what, then, if it is allowed to do so unchecked?"
"A special sense? Hahahahahaha! It is hardly that!"
Without looking at Saturn, without breaking his stride, he makes a sharp slicing motion with one hand. It sends a bright bolt of energy out to the side, and something that was under the blood, hidden from detection, lets out a squeal of pain. The stench is strong enough to bleed through, just for a second.
"But if it is a battle they wish for, a battle they may have."
[Guh. He shuts off his breathing until that passes, and then begins again when he needs to speak; Crobat hisses at the sudden attack, though more just out of annoyance that she wasn't the one to protect Saturn herself.]
Ah—brute force, then? But you said a Servant wouldn't come through entirely intact. And yet this place draws back from you, and you . . . well. I won't presume how intact you are or aren't.
He snorts, not slowing his pace; if anything, he's moving faster now. "We are of similar stuff, these things and myself. The existence of an Avenger is based in how we are named! A man who finds savlation and lives out his days in peace has no need for vengeance; he may let himself be buried in lambswool and be swaddled from the ferocity of the world. But I! I, Avenger! I am well-versed in the fury of hatred, the desire for revenge! And so I name myself kin to these creatures, who tread upon the same paths of Hell as I once have, and will do again!"
He's silent for a moment as he walks, then tips his head slightly back, looking towards the emptiness above.
"Is it loyalty, when you are cut from the same sort of cloth? Once upon a time, there was a man who only thought to live happily with a woman that he loved, in the service of his king and country. Once upon a time, there was a girl who only thought to live her own normal life, untouched by greatness--the good or the terrible. I would not call it loyalty, no."
"What does an Avenger know of love?" It sounds like a genuine question, somehow. "I am what I am, and I cannot be anything else. My existence is based in my hatred. What room is there for love in the very fabric of my being?"
I don't know about that. You might think love and hate are opposite things, but truly they aren't. They weave together quite nicely into one fabric. A man who wanted only to live with the woman he loved . . . yes. That isn't so very different.
"In this place? You cannot." There is something almost like pity in Avenger's voice. "You cannot simply reach in and pull this rot out. The roots go deep, and so long as she continues on her path, there will be no end to the supply."
He finally comes to a stop. There is no light ahead, but he points.
"So if you wish to be of any help at all, keep going. Until the end of the line, and beyond that! Keep moving, no matter if your skin splits, your bones crumble, your body fades to dust! Continue on beyond even that!"
He does not take the hand, a seething and faintly glowing figure in the red-tinged darkness, his eyes glowing. With each passing second, he fades more and more from sight.
"Continue on, then, and see where the path leads you. With luck, it will be what you wish for."
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The man only scoffs deep in his throat. "To find her? You mean to find her?! You fool! Would you throw yourself into this ocean of curses and resentment?! To kill something is to gather it dying curse upon yourself! But they are hardly discerning! They will consume you as well as their original target--are you saying you are willing to brave that?!"
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Without question. Their original target . . . Ritsuka? Then isn't she already braving it? What am I supposed to do in that case, turn back and leave her to drown in it all alone? That isn't happening, so you may as well not waste our time.
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And then, abruptly, he goes still again, staring hard at Saturn. "Knowing that, would you still go forward?"
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[He stares hard right back. The monologues do give him time to not breathe and avoid the bloody air, so between that and the helpful ozone, his head is clearing, and his voice is steady.]
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"Very well! If you are foolish enough to dive into the depths of hell for the sake of a foolish sinner, I shall loan you what you need to make your way."
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—Thank you. What is your name?
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"...You may refer to me as 'Avenger' for now."
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[There's a faint glow to his yellow eyes in the dimness, and a warmth about it all despite their determination.]
But I could use your help.
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He's walking as he talks, at least, the confident stride of a man who knows his way very well. In the hazy glow that surrounds him, it's obvious that the blood is shying away from him, as if it fears his presence. It leaves a slightly clearer path in his wake to follow.
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I see. But you . . . these things don't touch you in the same way. Only because you're a Servant? Or something more than that? Because you're Avenger?
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Avenger, though, only snorts. "Any Servant could wade into these waters and come through alive, if not entirely intact. But to leave these things be would only allow them to gather their strength and to grow. A curse is hardly a dead thing. It lives, it breathes, it consumes, it grows. And what, then, if it is allowed to do so unchecked?"
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Then you're preventing that. Keeping them in check. Your presence here beats them back, in some special sense.
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Without looking at Saturn, without breaking his stride, he makes a sharp slicing motion with one hand. It sends a bright bolt of energy out to the side, and something that was under the blood, hidden from detection, lets out a squeal of pain. The stench is strong enough to bleed through, just for a second.
"But if it is a battle they wish for, a battle they may have."
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Ah—brute force, then? But you said a Servant wouldn't come through entirely intact. And yet this place draws back from you, and you . . . well. I won't presume how intact you are or aren't.
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I see how it is. But your loyalty to your fellow sinner is stronger than your kinship with them.
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"Is it loyalty, when you are cut from the same sort of cloth? Once upon a time, there was a man who only thought to live happily with a woman that he loved, in the service of his king and country. Once upon a time, there was a girl who only thought to live her own normal life, untouched by greatness--the good or the terrible. I would not call it loyalty, no."
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[Casually. Conversationally. These are normal things to talk about while you trudge through a sea of putrid blood, surrounded by shadows in the dark.]
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At this point, there is a definite upward slant to their path, getting steadily steeper. Somehow, the blood sloshing at their ankles does not subside.
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[Lightly, and watching him.]
What can I do to help?
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He finally comes to a stop. There is no light ahead, but he points.
"So if you wish to be of any help at all, keep going. Until the end of the line, and beyond that! Keep moving, no matter if your skin splits, your bones crumble, your body fades to dust! Continue on beyond even that!"
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[He turns to him, offering his hand.]
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"Continue on, then, and see where the path leads you. With luck, it will be what you wish for."
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