All That's Left Is Flinders

"What... what the fuck..."

Scrambling back as my whole... EVERYTHING howls in pain. From the tips of my toes to the hair on my head, each morsel of my body is in fiery agony. Screams echo out my lungs, and my muscles contort, spasming as I slam into the unknown ground beneath me.

The other man with me still doesn't move, only offering deaf condolences as everything I know and am burns.

"I am sorry. It is hard for me to sense things as they are. You are quite resilient, I must admit. Souls gain density with age. You... you are not at any age to possess such a powerful soul to survive a millennia of memories. It is ironic, is it not? We grow the fastest young but cannot reach our pinnacles without time."

The syllables from his mouth pound spikes into my skull. My fist breaks against the floor beneath me as I just want to distract myself from the agony. Lava laces up my body, a thousand times worse than any Serum or Concoction. Lifting my arm, I bite into my flesh, seeking anything, any way to escape this pain.

It only delivers more, however. I fall to my back, gasping and heaving for air as the bastard just won't shut up. I cannot muster the noise to tell him to do so, but I oh so wish he would.

"Again, I apologize. As a shadow, there is little I can do. All I can do is speak to you and guide you. Focus your mind. That is all that truly matters, young man. With control comes clarity, and with clarity comes resolution. Beyond that pain, there is exhaustion, but on the other side of that evil is an endless plain of potential."

More nails sink into my body, the pangs exploding with detonations throughout my whole form. I crash my skull against the earth below me, unable to listen to a word of his. Only the pain registers. I just want it gone! I want it over! Why won't it go away!

And yet he won't be quiet!

"Focus, young man. Grasp that tidbit of rationality you have. Your soul is severely damaged, already quite so before you arrived, but that does not mean you should break. A fractured soul is the greatest way to gain authority in this world. One proves their body, their mind, and then finally, their soul. It is not necessarily in that order, but that is most common. You are missing the last. Take hold."

"AHHHH!"

Air leaves my lungs with near-visible fire. My fingers break, and my chest cannot inhale fast enough to keep up with my screams. There is no Blodwyn to help dull the pain. No Lily to help ease the recovery. There is only raw suffering throughout my whole being.

And yet... this man... this bastard tells me to focus? How am I to focus like this?

It's impossible. I can't hardly even form a single thought before it is shattered. Rallying my resolve, I attempt to close my fist to help me move, but an inch of movement costs me everything. All I see is red, white, and back from behind my eyelids, as those fucking words won't stop!

"A fractured soul is the riskiest way for a Dominion. Only Hiesch ever managed that, as far as I know. Doubly so for one such as you whose soul is already unwhole, missing that arm, and never owning another piece. The Road Of Shadows possessed the strongest will I've ever known. Smiled in the face of the most brutal demise. Laughed with joy no matter the darkness. Held out a hand to any who would desire it. Befriended just as many enemies as he made. Many called him a fool. I? No, I know better. He might have been a fool, but some fools are special."

Remington pauses for a moment, or whatever this shadow of him is. It languishes in melancholy as my screams only crescendo. I feel my legs and ribs break simultaneously as I knee myself in the stomach. When the shadow continues, his tone is directly wholly unto me, not missing an inch of meaning. It pierces beyond the fog, reaching my scattered thoughts and helping them reform.

"Some fools are ignorant of the horrors in this world, deigning to see them as challenges to be overcome. Some fools are simply... too stubborn to break, no matter the hammer that strikes them. I have not known you for long. But... if you have met whatever remains of me out there, you must be that kind of fool. None would survive such an encounter otherwise."

Some part of me finally listens to him, latching onto the stubbornness. An old phrase comes to mind. The one that kept me alive long, long ago. It is ill-fitting in this place, honestly, but it is the only one that holds me together as the pain only triumphs further.

"Death will not take me. She is afraid. Afraid I'll resist."

"Hmm?"

Remington hums a question to my whisper, the barely audible words leaving my throat with hardly less pain as they push away. But I grasp onto them, thinking of my mother—of both Ma and Anwiye as one. The stories read to me of the glorious fights and fantastic endings. The awful monsters and legendary hunters who fell them. The hidden Gods and those who worship them in secret. The darkness within the world that attempts to stamp us all out.

And no matter what I've learned about my family, the truth is she's right about a few things. I'll fight back against anything, even if it's Death. I've made that wrestle many times by now. It never scared me in the first place; it only made me apprehensive.

"Death will not take me. She is afraid. Afraid I'll resist."

The words leave my throat just a little louder. The pain and comfort intertwine as I gradually gain movement. Still, Remington cannot hear me.

"What are you saying? Something about Death? She takes all. Even once she passes, her remains will continue. That's the thing about the Elders like Death. They are few in number but eternal in function, birthed by reality itself at the origin of all. There used to be a God of Time, though not even Lady Kudo knows what happened to her. Most of the Elders are long gone by now. Only Death, Space, and Horizon remain. Though Kudo's older brothers ran away before this planet was even formed."

Remington rambles just as he does outside of this place. Instead of ignoring him, though, I latch onto the sound and echo him with my own words. Each little thing compiles into something more prominent as I roll onto my stomach through the harrowing agony of everything ablaze internally.

"Death will not take me. She is afraid. Afraid I'll resist."

Opening my eyes, I see everything awash with a red tint. But I am not done yet. Feeling a tooth crack, I heave with all my might, the great strength reduced to that of a feeble toddler. I hack out some of my lungs right at the peak of my push, and I nearly fall back to the ground.

Before I lose all my will, however, I lurch backward with my body, sliding onto my knees and ass. In a semi-kneel like that of a praying priest, I gasp for air, the pain still seething throughout it all.

"What is that saying you said? Could you say it again?"

Unable to refuse him as it is my anchor, I mutter it a little louder than before. Through my bleary and crimson vision, I see Remington's face shift slightly.

"Death will not take me. She is afraid. Afraid I'll resist."

"How interesting. I believe that phrase originates from an old cult that, unlike most religions back in the day, did not revere the Gods. They treated them as unfairly gifted monsters that toy with the lives of the masses as they saw fit. In some ways, they weren't wrong. Many Gods were and still would be like that had they not perished. Not all were like that, though. I suppose that's why he fell in love with her, for her generosity and love."

The meaning from Remington's tone twists and confuses me as I grasp for anything else to anchor me. The old fucker's brain must be haywire after so long alone. That must be why he won't shut up!

Groaning in pain, I stabilize myself partially, a splayed-out hand on the ground to anchor me further. Nevertheless, between the broken bones and trembling from the pain, it's not easy to hold still.

And yet, I do so anyway.

I tighten my jaw as I open my eyes fully, piercing through the fog of suffering to look at Remington. To truly look at him. This figure is one of the most outstanding ever to exist. No. He is the most outstanding ever to exist.

He is more impressive than Vincent, Lennon, Louis, and any of the others that might come along. At the 8th Sigil, he kept up with those Demigods. And those Demigods weren't average 9th Sigileds, after all. They would each slaughter someone like Tonuyn with ease. Nonetheless, he didn't slow them down in the slightest.

In fact, he often outshined their brilliance. And in the end, it all came down to him to seal the Mother Below away in this place. A question forms as I hold some hope that this man is not entirely out of the fight yet. If we could get him back, I know his hand's out there, but that's not him. It's just a fragment. This is... him.

"Are you still alive? Is there any method to save you?"

A knot in my heart overshadows the agony for just a moment as Remington answers.

"No. I am long gone, my friend. I am nothing but a shadow of a shadow. Anything you see of me out there... You should be wary of it."

Squinting, I can barely compose a thought through the pain. I manage to eke out another question, though, not comprehending how he's here right now with me.

"And then what are you now?"

Remington sighs, an unrivaled genius given just a couple of years too few in order to shine truly.

"Just as great heat can leave behind an imprint or the light of the sun leaves behind a shadow, when mighty souls are destroyed in their finest acts, they leave behind Remnants. I am sure you have heard of them. I am the Remnant of a Remnant. Twicefold perished, thousandfold shattered."

I stutter out a defense, knowing that a portion of him exists outside. As I speak to him, though, a weight begins to form behind me. I twist my head, still talking to Remington.

"Are you sure? I met a fragment of your soul out of here. Did you not leave behind something in the River Of Time?"

The Timewarped Delver's eyes flare with alarm as he yells at me.

"Not good. She's finally moving! Someone... someone attacked her in her seal!? What... Wyatt. I need you to listen to me!"

The darkness where the sands provided some mediocre light immediately vanishes. In its replacement comes a tapping of chitin that resembles a cackling laughter. Within the noise, a shattered voice reaches out for me. It is distorted as if it stutters out in power at my very destination.

"There is little time! Whatever that thing is out there! IT IS NOT ME! I REPEAT! IT IS NOT ME! I LEFT BEHIND A MARKER, NOT A PIECE OF MY SOUL! SHE IS PLANN—"

My heart sinks to a dangerous depth as I learn a brutal truth, or what has to be a truth. That Remington out there isn't real. Or... is this one not real? I am in this realm, after all. Could this all be some kind of trick?

I don't know. He did save me just now. But... so has the other one. Although... Hand-Remington almost got me killed within the Codex, and that damage still remains. Was he weakening me for this? At the time, it seemed like an oversight, but was it?

I don't have much time to think as the clacking chitin pauses. A weight descends over me as twelve glowing orbs penetrate the darkness. Kneeling, I stare up at the eyes of the Mother Below—of Usen.

A God of corruption, light, and darkness all at once. The most powerful being alive—that we know of, at least. But that 'at least' does little for me as I reconcile its frame.

A clacking of the spider's colossal mandibles turns into words that burrow into me profoundly. The pressure sinks my body down further as I feel the things that invaded me earlier explode. The fragments of the shadows transform into mass amounts of Darklight, etching their meanings into my flesh—and my soul.

"Want. You. Join. All."

The four words are simple and concise, but they hold unending meanings. Visions pass through my mind in the thousands as I see dozens of planets, the same as mine, overflowing with her kind, those tainted my Darklight. Yet... she...

Something fractures further as the sights widen.

This one is not the only of her kind. There are more. So many more. Numbers higher than I can imagine, more than millions, a thousand millions, a million millions, exist out there in the outer worlds. The Mother Below might be the strongest, the eldest, but she is not the only one. Countless creatures are indebted to her, bound to her.

Something else cracks as the sights narrow upon a random world. I find nothing but the corruption wash through what must have once been a lovely vista. All the plants, all the animals, and all the life walk with a duality of tainted light and brimming darkness. They all nod to each other numbly, only the powerful even having a modicum of rationality.

Another few words deliver a promise to me as I begin to lose it all.

"You. Safe. Your. Safe. Give. Hand."

A shudder runs through me as I can feel my soul splinter all throughout. It was damaged even before I entered here. Am I? Am I about to break? No. Death will not take me. And neither will this God.

I grit my teeth, mutinying with all I can, but it's not enough. My left hand moves on its own. Some part of me wants to live. It wants to be safe. It wants this pain to end. The Mother Below only makes things worse by hitting while the iron is hot.

"Yes. Friend, too. Safe. All safe. Warm. No. Death. Only family. Love to all."

Visions crackle through past wars, the planets this God came to in the past under eternal conflict. Millions would die in each clash. They would have powerful figures battle and singe scars into their worlds, permanently altering and damaging them. The harm gradually ruins the worlds, turning them into hardly hospitable lands. Yet, when She arrives, all the war is gone, and all the animosity is leveled. Only love for Her exists in these being's hearts. The powerful have a few more frivolous things, but that is all. Their worlds slowly repair themselves, returning to how they were as all the beings work together.

This vision makes my hand move, but my heart squeezes with alarm. Something internal, so viscerally deep within, doesn't want safety or life for all. It only wants to be free. For a moment, a split second, I think it is my Sigil, but it's not. The shattering bits of me leak out with emotions that contest the neverending pain.

A chitinous leg dips into my hand like a loving embrace, to take it and me as well into the Darklight, to induct us into Her 'family'. Inch by inch, it descends painfully slow as my heartbeat halts. Every piece of my body freezes in mortal peril as I come to clarity.

The cracks in my body resound as I press on my soul, forcing it to move, and the formed thing that possesses the shape of my one-armed body shatters wholly. A million fragments wash through my body, the sheer pain blacking out all my vision, all my senses, and even my thoughts. There is only darkness.

There is nothing but darkness, a kind of nothingness that is separate from all other nights I've ever experienced. It's even dissimilar from death. This is... nothingness.

"Some are simply too stubborn to break."

A voice suddenly enters my mind in this void. I probe for its owner, but nothing comes. As it were. There is simply nothing here. This is the void of life and death, it would seem, what happens to souls after their demise.

Lost adrift, I float in this void. There is no pain. No agony. No suffering. There are no more fights, no more wars, no more bloodshed. There is only peace.

...

...

...

...

...

But there is only peace. I can't do anything but drift. I don't like it. I don't like it at all. I don't want to be here anymore.

I want to live. I want to eat. I want to drink. I want to fight! I want to breathe! I want to run! I want to... I want to live. I want to do whatever it is I want at any moment.

Something... something within me rumbles before the void shifts. And from the void, I see the Mother Below once more. Her leg is only inches from my open palm. It would seem no time at all has passed. How odd. I could swear I was there for a few years, wherever that was. I feel... older. So much older. It's weird, but I don't have time to think.

My soul is different, too. Taking heed of it, there is no longer a set form stretched to match my body. It is... formless, shifting within like a liquid or gas.

An idea flicks on as I move onto it, doing as I want the second I want to for the first time in my life. There will be nothing to stop me. I will be free—free to do whatever I want without limits.

As the Mother Below's leg touches my frozen hand, the air whistles from movement. A fist slams into the God's chitinous leg, sending it off-target. The enormous piercing leg sinks into the floor beside me as I gape at the return of my right arm.

A feeling sinks through me, the complete knowledge of my soul's existence. Nothing of my soul can hide from me.

An authority has been established, and my body regains function as the pressure seems to have alleviated. The God before me's weight doesn't seem so colossal as I stand, inhaling the dreary air. As I do so, another leg falls for me.

With the descending spike, I close my eyes, believing in what I now know as fact. Then, I open them, wanting to be gone from this Sirza.

And so I am.