Son

Meanwhile, below the sea at Layer 0 of Paradise within the Limitless Corridor, there remained two unconscious bodies. The ginger riddled in wounds of the Reaper's creation, but as one foot turned around the corner, there was another seen sitting over his body. Having shed himself of the stylish trench coat, the turtleneck's sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the white hair of the Requiem Reaper stood there with one hand on his son's chest.

"So you're back, huh? Ace must've said somethin', little brat," Icarus commented with a smirk, but that drop of sweat gave away everything to the Reaper looking up at the Jester,

"Don't insult my son. The next time you say something about my children, I'll kill you," August's words needn't have his head turn to face him, for even from afar, Chrollo could feel it within his heart.

That even with the skills he'd learned, the power he hid within himself, the strength stabbed into his bulging muscles- it was nothing but a speck before the might of an Incarnated Requiem Artifact such as this. The idea that their power was limited thanks to the curse seemed to be but a myth, for if just the words of August were to make him perspire…

"I'll probably die if I fought you. If you remember our arrangement, then, since you beat him… he's yours, Rivera," Icarus offered, stretching his hand out to him, also extending his fingers in unison,

"No. That's too easy. I just take my son, and you get to go off scot-free. I don't know what's exactly going on, but I hate people who try to be like you. You're not a puppet, you're an insecure excuse of a human… and I intend to erase you from this world," The Reaper's threats, while true, would be empty for the second he'd claimed that- Icarus vanished into a transparent afterimage of his physical body.

August's foot never lifted from the ground, the second he was sure that threat vanished, he went back to resuscitate his son. Lifting his head from behind so it could rest in his lap, white strands moving with his neck, falling over his face; barely peering through the curtains to examine Ace's tired features.

There was something he couldn't describe- he was sure a future existed in maybe a few minutes, that Ace would awaken, however, oddly, August smiled at his sleeping face. While this had been the byproduct of multiple damaging blows, Rivera couldn't let this idiotic smile fade… for this was the result of all their fighting. Everything from the Old World gave form so his children could live on, and while their lives wouldn't be so easy to live through, there remained but one factor he could be grateful for. And that was their freedom- that there existed no omniscience overseeing their every move, manipulating them as if they were puppets on the strings of hate.

"This musta been what Dad felt…" Fatherly whispers as he stares at his child, thoughts of concern wandering as he pondered about his wife- his daughter. June. Kristina.

"Ah well. I should leave somethin' for you and your sister," August brushed his fingers against his forehead, but for this endowment to work properly, there needed to be the use of the forbidden energy. Requiem power, angelic energy affected by human blood. Holding his head in his lap, the exponential use had damned his soul to another world, so, unfortunately for his son… he was alone when he awakened.

His eyes watery, cheeks stained with dried tears, Ace shakily inhaled… steadily moving forward with his arms draped by the sides. In the end, he couldn't falter; while the Reaper vanished and he technically defeated him, the words of his father relayed on repeat like that of a broken record. The ginger stood where the assassin formerly was, audio of a knuckle breaking entering this empty chamber; the simple scanning of a singular presence had begun the elevator's ascent. It was almost like rising to the heavens from being trapped in hell's fiery gates; for the voice of his father, already deceased, had echoed further within his mind's recesses.

Steel doors mechanically revealing the outer space of the upper floors, Ace's strut through the bullet barrage of guards' pistols, the flying limbs of prisoners as they were shot off, a result of inferior ability.

'It's been a while since I'd seen ya face. You have grown so old, son. Son… it feels so weird to say that, now. I'm so old. The first thing I wanna say is that I'm sorry for whatever happened to you. When I allowed those puppets of Kristie and me to exist, I wanted them to be whatever my parents weren't for me. Allowing of anything, that they'd accept everything and always… loving. In the end, I guess that was the wrong choice. This might be the first time you've genuinely heard me say that. But I love you, my son. There is no excuse I can make for being responsible for this. If it hadn't been for whatever I'd done, the way those things you called your 'parents' acted, then it wouldn't have resulted in this end.

I know Alex was a way for you to live, that he aided in your freedom, but I suppose he was a novice to the teaching thing.'

Ace turned his head… the chaos was endless, for blood puddles replaced the clean floors, guards' disfigured faces as their corpses were defiled repeatedly by sharp knives. Wielding the hand of a loyal soldier in his own, the second elevator to the surface world revealed itself through a normal wall. Vanishing into the confines of the hidden elevator so the doors would enclose his presence, the next thing he'd see was the vast sea, limitless, the azure palette of the sky reflected into the ocean surrounding him on this metal sphere.

'The vastness of the sea will be the guide for you. The stars of the universe will dictate your path, the new one to a better end. For I won't lie when I say that my father wasn't the best… and neither was I. Be the best you that you can be. Don't steal the lives of others because you think it best… for what would your sister think if she was snuffed out randomly, for the sake of a self-righteous goal that leads to more chaos than tranquility? Live for yourself, and nobody else. I know that's not as stylish as you'd be hoping your old man's last words would be but… even if you have to gnaw your way through, my sweet boy-

Live.'