CHAPTER 50: The Road to Addis Ababa

Phantom's hand was outstretched, a wire-like organ slithering from his wrist. Its end was a barb made of some type of white boney material. Alex wondered, what was it for? It looked like the stinger of a scorpion! It was integrated into the man so naturally that it must have always been part of him. He thought of his own Arbeteres System. Even with no scars, the device on sat awkwardly on his neck, blocking off some degrees of movement. The device was so unnatural, clearly not optimized for human necks. Focusing back on Phantom's stinger, Alex questioned if it could be a venom of some sort. Whatever it had inside, it was clearly associated with the Violetta. Was this how Violettas' contracts were made?

The prick was as instant as the light flashing between the two. Light. That light had gathered on Phantom's wrist at the base, the smell of burnt flesh rising in the air as Phantom's hand retracted back, the wire that connected them now hanging loosely from Alex's arm before falling off entirely. Phantom looked sneeringly for the perpetrator, desiring nothing other than to deal a quick and painful reminder of how things stand between them. Combating the time dilation with the speed of light, and being able to react to this dilated environment in the first place, this could only be the work of a man named Holts, whom he had scanned the mind of on his way here. No one was ever safe from his prying eyes. But the man no longer showed any fear. Hence his mind being barred from his sights. Why did father make it this way? Phantom half-scoffed, teeth gritting and eyes apathetic as a wave of destructive force blasted in the laser's general direction, ripping up what little ceiling remained of their basement dwelling and leveling an entire side of the room. From an angle, it was impossible to tell they were once underground. Phantom lifted his foot, every step planting down with a small but calculated force. Phantom need only to walk to catch up to his future victim. As he looked at the base of a mostly decimated building, he drew his eyes to the front of him slowly. Without any delay, Phantom disappeared from Alex's view.

Holts found himself sitting in front of violet eyes, unable to move except for a quick slip of a special bullet into his pocket. There was a moment of peace that fell over him as he waited for death. The scene of Astraeus looking down at a defenseless Holts seemed to be preserved in the eternity of its stillness, their eyes locked in a silent conflict. Those vibrant, perfect violet eyes, a mark of the purity and inevitability that was the very symbol of absolute control over another. From what intentions were those violet eyes forged? Were they a sick joke from God? A tool made to oppress, to enslave? To instill an almighty justice? Looking into them, Holt's had an insane epiphany. They spoke to him in the same language that he had familiarly breathed all those years ago. The tongue of combat. It sounded, muffled but true.

To create a world without war.

Even though humans diluted its great bloodline, the desires of its creator shined through like a star to be seen from galaxies away. Nothing can burn out that seething passion.

Wonderstruck, Holts did not want to move. He felt as if he had come across a revelation unparalleled! It was a brief moment of excitement. Holts snapped back to reality as he, too, was released from the effects of time dilation. His mind burned with desire, acting with a newfound familiarity towards Astraeus.

"What was that?"

"Oh?" Phantom was surprised that his attacker was so quick to drop his weapon. Usually, they'd go into a frenzy. "You've seen it? The Scientist's will. I've been asking the same question myself since the first time my eyes glowed violet. He calls to me, yet the image I see and the voice that guides me is rough and distorted like an incomprehensible minefield of static. There are only a few sentences that come out of the mayhem. It must be my impure blood." Phantom said, before promptly slapping Holts across the face suddenly. Holts staggered from the impact, his dark eyes looking back in confusion.

"That's for the laser, you bastard. You wanted to stop the contract between Alex and me, right? And you knew just where to aim. How did you even know about that?"

"As an X, I've had a chance to observe a Violetta first-hand and see what he does to his so-called 'corpses'. I don't want to wish that on anyone, especially someone I'm close to. You're not compromising Alex."

"Ah, you've seen the 'corpses'. Don't worry, I wasn't planning on turning Alex into one of those… things. I'm clearly not that cruel and merciless. Death is one thing, but living for it is another. In fact, after I kill my father, I'll send them off as well. It's the least I can do for them." Phantom's eyes glowed with the rare pain of empathy "As for Alex, I was only planning on making him a golden cross under my authority. He would still have the benefits and protections of a regular golden cross. Imagine the possibilities!"

"Hell no."

"Fine, I'll even go there to the capital with you all myself! You, Midnight, and even Alex seem to be under Veltos' protection from me..." He couldn't land that deadly kick on him, after all. Alex's dodge had nothing to do with skill. "But some random baddies from the TA aren't protected whatsoever!"

"Wait, why is Alex under his protection?" A sharp gasp alerted Astraeus. Holts had just learned the answer to his own question. "Oh, shit-" Holts barely finished cursing before his breath gave out. That expression on his face. How unusual it was. As if his world had just turned sideways, leaving him to plummet towards the horizon.

"That's not a good look for you, have you figured out the most important detail of all of this yet? That Veltos plays both sides of this game? Anyways, aren't you coming?" Astraeus doted on Holts.

"I- didn't agree…" Holts' once-stable motivation was washed away. Astraeus continued walking, before stopping to unveil what little wisdom he had.

"People like you only get one chance to protect the people you care about. This golden opportunity is something neither of you should pass up" The words moved off Astreaus's lips and struck Holts straight through the heart. All those times… It was his fault. He screwed up and there's no turning back.

Not for him.

Not for Frilo.

Not for anyone.

They were all too deep in this conflict. Holts had made his bed, it was time to sleep in it.

"W-Wait up! Wait for me!"

Alex saw the two approaching as Astraeus smiled and Holts sighed and scoffed his fate away into a grin.

"Turns out there's a change of plans, I'm comin' with you!" Phantom exclaimed enthusiastically, patting Alex's back so hard it stung "When we get there, I'll knock 'em goons down so you can get yourself a clear straight shot at the devil himself! And Holts here can watch from a distance, picking off the stranglers as you make your suicide run. Now hurry up, uh… what's your name? ah, that's right! Alex! I won't be able to hold this time thing forever! I'm already getting sick of counting!"

The black ash under their feet transitioned to a typical concrete gray as the group made their way to the capital.

"This is going to take a long time, isn't it…"

"Oh, you don't know the half of it."

"While we're running, I want to ask you more questions."

"Shouldn't we go over the plan?" Holts remarked.

"Hell no, Holts! I'm already bored! You're so uptight! I hate it." Phantom scoffed "Anyway, ask away, red hair. I need something fun to keep me occupied."

"The fuck are you on about…" Holts was trying his best not to blow up on the cocky bastard.

"Well, why are you so anxious about everything lately? I have this feeling that you'll just run away as soon as things don't go as planned, just like the day on the boat…"

"SHUT UP! Stay out of my head!"

"Then stop being a little bitc-"

Holts took a swing at Astraeus, who gracefully warped his body around the fist before taking his finger and shoving it deep in Holt's nostril, surprising the shit out of him. His head jerked back, his pace halted and his large hands covering his nose. Soon, everyone stopped moving.

"Why are doing that?" Alex's voice was penetrating and aggressive.

"What? I'm just teasing him… It's not my problem if-"

"What would you do if I talked like that about your mother? I don't think you're taking this seriously enough! Holts' life as well as mine are on the line here, as well as all of these poor people around us! What's wrong with y-" Alex stopped himself.

Astraeus fell into a criss-cross, his head supported with his palm while he sat in pouting thought. Moments later, he tsked and looked away, letting his arm fall loosely. Alex stared back in the direction of the capital, letting out a slow, quiet sigh.

"Let's get moving again. We can't stop." Alex led the march. Holts followed first, while Astraeus took his time, dusting off his pants and swinging his arms and legs to stand upwards, running with his hands in his pockets.

They ran for a time, Holts almost managing to jumpstart a sentence or two before eventually sputtering back into normal breaths. Finally, Alex was the one to speak.

"What do you silver crosses even do? I know they're the heads of something, but what exactly does that mean?"

"MMm, great question. As a silver cross, we have two jobs: a public and a private one. Publicly, we are the greatest figureheads of Maleadora's cult other than the priestess herself. We are its guiding lights, seemingly untouchable personas. Our word, even without my Violetta's command, is taken as divine law. One-third of the world's population has allegiance to the cross, and one-fourth of the world lets my words hold significant weight in their lives. This is how the cult secures its funding, manpower, and sheer authority by day, while we boost our military and trade economy by night. That's where the real money and power comes in." Phantom really seemed to like bragging. Either that, or the tension of this silence was starting to get to even him.

"Any chance we can get some of that power now?"

"Nope. the TA is currently looking for us to make an alliance of sorts. They'll have to talk to Maleadora themselves before that happens, but, I don't want to ruin a good thing… "

"Then how are you going to get away with this?"

"Anybody who sees me tonight is dying, and none of y'all have the secret to death like the cult does. My secrets will either be zipped up tight or six feet under. You hear that, Holts? Blab on me and I'll do everything but kill you!"

"I understand" he said in a cold, deep, grumpy voice.

As they got closer, both Alex and Holts felt the ever-increasing thickness of the air rise exponentially. The toxic stench of war filled all the five senses even from this distance, knocking the group back to their senses. The smell. The sight of red drowning out the black horizon. The eerie sound of what could only be assumed to be a gunshot and an explosion slowly enveloped them like a rattling wind, a melody of decelerated death. At its center, the worse possible outcome became realized. The aura of Midnight was already somewhere in the city, the dilation of time merely a detour for him. Just as Holt's realized this effect, Midnight did too. And he adjusted accordingly.

As they took their first look at the skeleton of Addis Ababa, all of them halted a second in shock. This was the capital Holts and Alex were supposed to protect. Black Smoke covered the stars, and many of the concrete giants that just recently stood erect here were pulled down to human height, shattered or skeletonized. The countless people living in these giants, all swept away in an avalanche of their own possessions.

"Should we… help?" All those people trapped in the darkness… crushed and terrified and confused…

"No." We must walk past them. Help will come for them eventually. Hopefully.

"He's already ahead of schedule, but making his way to the right location. Alright you guys, are you ready? Let's just keep it simple. Silver Cross over here clears a path with me, and Holts, you pick off any strays and wait for a chance to assist me with Midnight. We need to find a weakness. I'll go straight to the location and wait to catch him by surprise at the target politician's hideout. Once Midnight is dealt with, We'll reorganize ourselves with the Brotherhood and Association forces to help clean up the rest of the TA. Easier said than done, I know."

"We'll be working with what we got here…" Holts was finished preparing his battle-ready psyche. He was now more determined than ever to make this last run not a failure.

"Eh, that's good enough for me!" Phantom added in a burst of cocky arrogance, his otherwise seductive smile amplified with the promise of an upcoming bloodbath. Now was the time to set aside all differences and get shit done. One plan, one crew, one job. With the finish line just now in sight, the final sprint starts now. Victory or death, there will be only one.