The Ides of March
Rihaku
The Internet
The Ides of March
Aobaru squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fingers on the armrest. Fortified by Vigorflame, it did not yield.
Sweat trickled down his brow, stinging his eyes. He worked his jaw, the febrile tension of imminent action swelling in his gut, his sternum.
The Shogun's words redounded through his mind. A flat impartial tenor, devoid of all feeling but certitude; the unrelenting and unshakeable honor of a being that had been ancient when Procyon itself was young.
Procyon was dead at the hands of Lord Hunger. As its emergence had inaugurated one Age, so would its passage one day mark another: for that was when Hunger had turned the corner, become truly unstoppable. When the greatest Implements of the Human Sphere threw their herald against him, and it was found wanting.
Ereadhihr could not oppose Praehihr. Any fluctuations from this precept would bend towards compliance, in time.
This is the moment, Chen Aobaru. The Shogun had spared no niceties. This is the hour of Hunger's accession. It was already inevitable; this will render it irreversible. Dien Bravo is the mightiest remaining Shard. Without his opposition, Lord Hunger will reign supreme. Unquestionable and invincible.
And was that really so bad? Considering what Dien had done... and Hunger had always treated him well. To simply betray the man who had been mentor and protector to him - felt wrong. No - was wrong. It was an unconscionable act.
No matter how much you try to convince yourself otherwise, the truth will always shine through.
You are Chosen, Chen Aobaru. Our Foremost selves seeded that potential within you, and not by chance or mere happenstance. If Hunger prevails today, you will never in any meaningful respect surpass him ever again. Not in your field of strength, nor in any field. He is a Progression-type Cursebearer, and you are merely the hero of a single universe. Less prey than fodder, at best an ornament.
No matter how brightly you shine, you will never eclipse him. Not even for an instant.
You cannot deny what you are. You cannot deny the disquiet that burns within you. The fundamental in-correctness of your current role. Will you not act?
Fuck his chosen role. Hunger hadn't done anything to deserve betrayal. If Aobaru turned on him over something as shallow as that, wasn't the 'Chosen' one just a puppet dancing on another set of strings?
He clenched his teeth. All he had to do was, nothing. Let Hunger win and things would work out. To raise his own sword against the King of the Elixir Sovereignty was utterly ridiculous, and literal treason besides. And even if he did, there was no chance he would actually win.
That is why you will join with me. I shall be your sword and armor, and yourself the animating flame. Nor do we seek the Praehihr's undoing. Merely, independence. Independence from the incidental tyranny of his overwhelming might. We shall see to it that Dien is defeated, and the Praehihr weakened only to the point that we might reasonably establish a realm of our own. That, would be entirely within our merged capabilities, once I have unlocked your true strength.
His true strength... was capable of rivaling Hunger? Hunger, as he was now, with the Realm of Evening overlaid upon reality around him? But even so, if Aobaru wanted a realm of his own, surely he just had to ask. Hunger was not much into ruling directly anyway.
Enfeoffment is not conquest, just as power inherited is not earned. Do not confuse utility for purpose, or means for ends. Freedom, rather than a mere facade thereof, will never arise merely from entreating that man. The nature of his Curses are such that he will never regard another authority as legitimate, save for that of his patron.
All while his mere presence summons endless calamities upon his head, upon his realm and entourage. Calamities which he may have the strength to repel, or endure - but for which the survival or well-being of those around him, is nowhere near assured.
Aobaru shook his head. No, he didn't have to do anything. He would acquiesce to Hunger's victory and see Dien defeated once and for all. Whatever came next... he didn't have to think about now.
If you acquiesce now, the flame of your spirit - of your purpose - will be banked utterly. You will be extinguished in meaning, if not in essence. Is that the act of he who bears the Vigorflame? The indivisible spark of heroism itself?
Lord Hunger will either bring ruin upon this realm by his presence, or ascend to such unassailable strength that no catastrophe could dislodge him. In the former case, you will not survive. In the latter...
Recall the Realm of Evening in its cosseted, suffocating splendor. The extinction of all conflict includes with it, dissent. The annihilation of one's troubles, is the amputation of destiny. He would turn all the universe into that prison: for what matters that the body and mind are unshackled, if the spirit is trapped inescapably? All that unfolds from such provenance would be as meaningless as artificial challenge, little more than a game.
Allow me to show you the destiny you might have claimed, which the Praehihr unwittingly severed from you. The destiny that we might yet restore. Understand now that the purpose of the Elixir Springs was solely to bring about their counterpart; all other elements mere radiation. From the life-giving waters, which merely imbue power, arises the solitary flame, that embodies it.
For the Vigorflame numbers among our finest weapons, and there is no weapon which I have not mastered.
Behold, the might and the fury of our Chosen One.
Power came upon him then, power in an onrushing flood, ocean of oceans too vast for comprehension; brilliance beyond sight or reckoning, heat like a supernova flare, a torrential advance delirious and inconceivable, all-conquering and - constrained. Dammed behind the wall of his arbitration, not by force but by volition held away.
For it was only his own power, and could not arise if he were not willing.
It pressed against his form, as if bursting from the seams of his skin, radiance spilling forth incontestably, uncontrollably. He could bear it, he could keep it contained, but it was simultaneously too much to bear.
Aobaru grunted, and clutched at his eye. Tears of flame dribbled from his fingers. This- All this, if he'd stayed in the Voyaging Realm, if he'd gone his own way- should have been his?
There were other ways, he knew instinctively, with the curious affinity his Element had always exhibited for him. He could turn it aside. Dismiss it. Diminish, and become merely Chen Aobaru, the chosen one no more.
Or keep it contained forever, if he so wished, and some how find a way to endure.
In his heart of hearts that wasn't what he wanted.
Marvelous as the Evening may be, it is not your nature to go gently into that good night.
Rage, Chen Aobaru. Rage against the dying of the light.
The Foremost Chosen accepted his destiny.
And the Blade of the Shogun appeared in his hand, and the Armor of the Daimyos around him: he roared, and a great heat and vehemence erupted from him. Power that ruptured the bounds of the real, power beyond all grandeur and reason, force and glory racing outwards to the bounds of the universe and still pouring endlessly forth.
A mere pulse of that power subdued the system of the cosmos, matter yielding to energy in looking-glass inversion. And all the realm became fire, and the stars bowed to him; for He Who Was Chosen had come before them at last.
---
Hunger had been prepared for Apocryphal intervention, but this was sheer insanity. Utterly ludicrous and brazen - the Shogun fusing with Aobaru and making a play for independence, right as Dien attacked!?
Nonetheless, there was only one thing to do. The magnitude of his task had greatly increased, but its directionality remained unchanged. He merely had to cut through, even if it could not be cut.
Expanding from Aobaru's former position was a sphere of molten light, bright coruscating pressure that retextured the universe in its wake. Luckily Hunger's other companions were positioned elsewhere around the system; with transcendental quickness he threw himself forward, retrieving the others and teleporting them to safety. Hunger spared a moment for Dien; Novakhron's primary cannon barked once, discharging a torrential pillar of energy towards his manifestation. At the same moment he displaced Aobaru to a distant uninhabited star, swiftly following afterwards.
The boy stilled, every muscle tensed as if straining against the efflux of power that raged within him. At Hunger's arrival he locked on, exploding forwards as if grateful for a target to vent his strength on.
Then the Shogun was upon him: blink-spasm forth as his blade severed space, gliding with eerie smoothness around Novakhron's suppressive fire as he skated into melee range. The impression of his descent was unearthly grace married to unthinkable power, sheer ravaging might that seemed to roil the universe at their collision, shake loose the cosmos from its moorings.
But Novakhron the Dog of War was mightier still. Unmoved and unbroken from the severity of that impact, Hunger's Armament shifted out of its defensive stance to retaliate with a blow of its own: power focused rather than wastefully extruded, brutal driving mass like a hammer-blow crushing the boy, whose form fractured and distorted under such concerted might. Aobaru spun out wildly, but an instant later corrected himself; somehow converting and dissipating the force as discharged heat, no more than a judicious flare of the fiery nimbus that constantly emanated from him.
Hunger frowned. It was a considerable exertion simply to keep Aobaru's power from obliterating the universe, even with his own Pressure fused to Novakhron's. Adorie's power of winter was slightly effective at neutralizing it, but at the cost of expending its own force. And his clones were thoroughly occupied containing Dien.
Such effortless skill from the unseasoned teenager was the Shogun's contribution, no doubt. This would not be trivial, even with the advantages of his form and all his magics. He was the faster and stronger of them, but not unassailably so, even with his attainments in the Praxis. And his opponent now drew from a well of battle-knowledge, instinct excruciatingly internalized, that might be unmatched in this realm.
"What is this about?" Hunger asked in the thundering basso of Novakhron's voice.
Aobaru shook his head. "You wouldn't understand. But we want Dien gone too, just without you too mighty ever to challenge. Let me weaken you enough and then we can destroy him together. Your current strength, alongside those Curses, is an unsustainable combination!"
"My Curses will not let up just because I'm weakened. The Shogun is using you," Hunger replied. "They will rationalize anything to justify their rule. That's all this is."
Aobaru sighed, and tightened the grip on his blade. "I knew you wouldn't understand."
All about them came the sense of a great retraction, spacetime breathing in: inversion of the all-pervading fury that had accompanied Aobaru's ascent, power drawn back and condensed, refined into faultless clarity. He moved.
If his first strike was heat then this was light, flash of steel and pure shining sharpness, singing partition as the blade-stroke approached.
Hunger exerted the Realm, diminishing his opponent along every aspect and parameter, heightening his own prowess as he drew on the Refinement of War. He did not meet Aobaru's blade but evaded it, curling around to strike at his flank with an unabated haymaker blow.
This, too, the Shogun anticipated, as blades of compressed Vigorflame appeared along Aobaru's shoulders and back, cleaving through and deflecting the main body of Hunger's strike as the boy twisted, cleanly severing the shoulder of Novakhron in exchange. Hunger grunted, and without hesitation detonated the Armament's gun-arm, which lay directly beneath that shoulder. If maneuver would not suffice, then simply trade resources.
A typhoon of energy washed over them both, atomizing the boy's armor; Ruin burrowing deep as claws of entropic magic savaged Aobaru's reinforced flesh.
The Shogun beat a hasty retreat, vortex-jets of Vigorflame propelling him away from the heart of the explosion, juking and angling with supernal ease even as Hunger teleported to pursue. Hunger's dominion over life and essence was already restoring the sacrificed arm, but without the Refinement of War he was not quite able to close the distance. His chaser-volley was ultimately ineffectual, lines of missed fire like scars in the universe fading slowly as Aobaru recovered. A swell of gold-white flames congealed across his body, forming false limbs and skin to replace Ruin-splintered flesh. Cautiously they circled, preparing to re-engage. Neither had truly tapped their depths in this fight, but they were both wasting time, giving Dien a window to act.
"Hah... unbelievable." Aobaru panted, drawing ragged breaths. An artifact of habit, seeing as they were in space, but their mutual Pressure smoothed over such tiny concerns. "Even after all I've gained, you're barely even taking me seriously."
"Neither of us are fighting to kill," Hunger replied. "Whatever your concerns are, we can address them in time. Cease this contest. We ought to deal with Dien first."
"Feel free," Aobaru said, "But I can't let up. Your being distracted by Dien is the only chance I have to actually win."
Hunger frowned. "And how many will the Surgeon massacre in that time? You're relying on me to save them, while simultaneously carving up my flank? Hardly the actions of a hero, or of any worthy ruler."
"What matters a hero in the face of a Cursebearer?" He shrugged. "I'm just a theme park manager. Without strength enough, my only recourse is treachery. You taught me that."
They did not have any more time to waste. Both were quicker than Dien, himself considerably so, but the Surgeon had well-demonstrated on countless occasions why it ought not be left to its own devices. From their interactions so far, Aobaru at least had retained some semblance of sanity, and the compression of his nimbus mitigated his threat to the greater universe. Assuming his aura was even dangerous to life - Hunger suspected it might re-contextualize biological entities into beings of pure spirit.
Aobaru was the deadlier opponent, but would inflict less collateral damage upon the cosmos. Without the ability to decisively crush one of the Shogun's apparent skill, the correct decision was clear. Hunger had no choice but to prioritize Dien first.
Hunger said nothing, and swiftly departed, teleporting back to their original system. Aobaru followed in hot pursuit, winking out like a spent ember only to re-emerge from a nearby star, birthed from a tongue of coronal flame. At his appearance, all the stars in the sky flared in metronomic unison, dead suns re-igniting like ash become the phoenix.
---
Aobaru is developing mastery over his vastly-expanded capabilities with outrageous speed. If allowed to fully integrate his new powers, he might become a threat to Hunger himself, at least enough to credibly achieve his stated objective of permanently weakening the Cursebearer. On the other hand, every moment wasted gives more time for Dien to generate yet another atrocity for some invented purpose. Small mercy that this is occurring at speeds too quick for the other companions even to perceive, much less get involved - but that means they will be little help here, as well.
[ ] There Can Only Be One - Aobaru's intractable for now, but Dien seems to have some fixation on combating Hunger directly. Perhaps that can be usefully channeled in this case? Attempt to join forces with the Surgeon until this 'interloper' is subdued, so that they might have an unbiased contest of who is truly more able.
Treachery is your only recourse, Chosen One? Two can play at that game.
*Tactics can improve odds, though remember that Hunger has never really met Dien
*It's not really in Dien's interests to do this, and the Hero will do anything to win
*On the other hand, he may not take kindly to another attempting to usurp his role!
*And Hunger will only accept if Dien can credibly commit to not performing any atrocities for the duration...
[ ] Full Speed Ahead - Just let the boy do his worst while Hunger focuses on taking down Dien. Unfortunately there's no truly superior solution here. The faster Dien falls, the sooner Hunger can turn his full attention to the root cause of this uprising. Perhaps he'll be able to extirpate the Shogun from Aobaru, see if that makes him more reasonable.
*Hunger can probably destroy Dien pretty quickly, if he's doing his uttermost
*Simplify the equation, even if at a cost
*Aobaru will certainly get some damage in, all the while scaling even further. It's nearly at the point where his Vigorflame can strengthen or incinerate arbitrary concepts in anyplace touched by heat or light...
[ ] Usurpation Containment Wave - The Seal of Ruin has an almost unacceptably large wind-up at these speeds, but if successfully executed will cripple Aobaru's destructive capabilities and his ability to scale. But while Hunger performs the Praxis technique, he will either have to endure the heroes' combined onslaught, or attempt to evade and leave the universe at Dien's mercies. Perhaps the boy will step in if the Surgeon attempts anything truly unconscionable.
*A fairly straightforward strategy, though one that risks much in exchange for establishing control over the parameters of the engagement.
[ ] A House Divided - Hunger was bluffing; Aobaru is too great a threat to merely give free reign. Dien has little chance of actually slaying his projected Tyrant, while Aobaru's power is unfathomably immense and his skill now greater than Hunger's own. Hunger has no choice but to bring now the full weight of his still-greater might to bear, and crush the boy before things escalate further. His clones will have to do their best to defend the Sphere in the meantime.
Aobaru squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fingers on the armrest. Fortified by Vigorflame, it did not yield.
Sweat trickled down his brow, stinging his eyes. He worked his jaw, the febrile tension of imminent action swelling in his gut, his sternum.
The Shogun's words redounded through his mind. A flat impartial tenor, devoid of all feeling but certitude; the unrelenting and unshakeable honor of a being that had been ancient when Procyon itself was young.
Procyon was dead at the hands of Lord Hunger. As its emergence had inaugurated one Age, so would its passage one day mark another: for that was when Hunger had turned the corner, become truly unstoppable. When the greatest Implements of the Human Sphere threw their herald against him, and it was found wanting.
Ereadhihr could not oppose Praehihr. Any fluctuations from this precept would bend towards compliance, in time.
This is the moment, Chen Aobaru. The Shogun had spared no niceties. This is the hour of Hunger's accession. It was already inevitable; this will render it irreversible. Dien Bravo is the mightiest remaining Shard. Without his opposition, Lord Hunger will reign supreme. Unquestionable and invincible.
And was that really so bad? Considering what Dien had done... and Hunger had always treated him well. To simply betray the man who had been mentor and protector to him - felt wrong. No - was wrong. It was an unconscionable act.
No matter how much you try to convince yourself otherwise, the truth will always shine through.
You are Chosen, Chen Aobaru. Our Foremost selves seeded that potential within you, and not by chance or mere happenstance. If Hunger prevails today, you will never in any meaningful respect surpass him ever again. Not in your field of strength, nor in any field. He is a Progression-type Cursebearer, and you are merely the hero of a single universe. Less prey than fodder, at best an ornament.
No matter how brightly you shine, you will never eclipse him. Not even for an instant.
You cannot deny what you are. You cannot deny the disquiet that burns within you. The fundamental in-correctness of your current role. Will you not act?
Fuck his chosen role. Hunger hadn't done anything to deserve betrayal. If Aobaru turned on him over something as shallow as that, wasn't the 'Chosen' one just a puppet dancing on another set of strings?
He clenched his teeth. All he had to do was, nothing. Let Hunger win and things would work out. To raise his own sword against the King of the Elixir Sovereignty was utterly ridiculous, and literal treason besides. And even if he did, there was no chance he would actually win.
That is why you will join with me. I shall be your sword and armor, and yourself the animating flame. Nor do we seek the Praehihr's undoing. Merely, independence. Independence from the incidental tyranny of his overwhelming might. We shall see to it that Dien is defeated, and the Praehihr weakened only to the point that we might reasonably establish a realm of our own. That, would be entirely within our merged capabilities, once I have unlocked your true strength.
His true strength... was capable of rivaling Hunger? Hunger, as he was now, with the Realm of Evening overlaid upon reality around him? But even so, if Aobaru wanted a realm of his own, surely he just had to ask. Hunger was not much into ruling directly anyway.
Enfeoffment is not conquest, just as power inherited is not earned. Do not confuse utility for purpose, or means for ends. Freedom, rather than a mere facade thereof, will never arise merely from entreating that man. The nature of his Curses are such that he will never regard another authority as legitimate, save for that of his patron.
All while his mere presence summons endless calamities upon his head, upon his realm and entourage. Calamities which he may have the strength to repel, or endure - but for which the survival or well-being of those around him, is nowhere near assured.
Aobaru shook his head. No, he didn't have to do anything. He would acquiesce to Hunger's victory and see Dien defeated once and for all. Whatever came next... he didn't have to think about now.
If you acquiesce now, the flame of your spirit - of your purpose - will be banked utterly. You will be extinguished in meaning, if not in essence. Is that the act of he who bears the Vigorflame? The indivisible spark of heroism itself?
Lord Hunger will either bring ruin upon this realm by his presence, or ascend to such unassailable strength that no catastrophe could dislodge him. In the former case, you will not survive. In the latter...
Recall the Realm of Evening in its cosseted, suffocating splendor. The extinction of all conflict includes with it, dissent. The annihilation of one's troubles, is the amputation of destiny. He would turn all the universe into that prison: for what matters that the body and mind are unshackled, if the spirit is trapped inescapably? All that unfolds from such provenance would be as meaningless as artificial challenge, little more than a game.
Allow me to show you the destiny you might have claimed, which the Praehihr unwittingly severed from you. The destiny that we might yet restore. Understand now that the purpose of the Elixir Springs was solely to bring about their counterpart; all other elements mere radiation. From the life-giving waters, which merely imbue power, arises the solitary flame, that embodies it.
For the Vigorflame numbers among our finest weapons, and there is no weapon which I have not mastered.
Behold, the might and the fury of our Chosen One.
Power came upon him then, power in an onrushing flood, ocean of oceans too vast for comprehension; brilliance beyond sight or reckoning, heat like a supernova flare, a torrential advance delirious and inconceivable, all-conquering and - constrained. Dammed behind the wall of his arbitration, not by force but by volition held away.
For it was only his own power, and could not arise if he were not willing.
It pressed against his form, as if bursting from the seams of his skin, radiance spilling forth incontestably, uncontrollably. He could bear it, he could keep it contained, but it was simultaneously too much to bear.
Aobaru grunted, and clutched at his eye. Tears of flame dribbled from his fingers. This- All this, if he'd stayed in the Voyaging Realm, if he'd gone his own way- should have been his?
There were other ways, he knew instinctively, with the curious affinity his Element had always exhibited for him. He could turn it aside. Dismiss it. Diminish, and become merely Chen Aobaru, the chosen one no more.
Or keep it contained forever, if he so wished, and some how find a way to endure.
In his heart of hearts that wasn't what he wanted.
Marvelous as the Evening may be, it is not your nature to go gently into that good night.
Rage, Chen Aobaru. Rage against the dying of the light.
The Foremost Chosen accepted his destiny.
And the Blade of the Shogun appeared in his hand, and the Armor of the Daimyos around him: he roared, and a great heat and vehemence erupted from him. Power that ruptured the bounds of the real, power beyond all grandeur and reason, force and glory racing outwards to the bounds of the universe and still pouring endlessly forth.
A mere pulse of that power subdued the system of the cosmos, matter yielding to energy in looking-glass inversion. And all the realm became fire, and the stars bowed to him; for He Who Was Chosen had come before them at last.
---
Hunger had been prepared for Apocryphal intervention, but this was sheer insanity. Utterly ludicrous and brazen - the Shogun fusing with Aobaru and making a play for independence, right as Dien attacked!?
Nonetheless, there was only one thing to do. The magnitude of his task had greatly increased, but its directionality remained unchanged. He merely had to cut through, even if it could not be cut.
Expanding from Aobaru's former position was a sphere of molten light, bright coruscating pressure that retextured the universe in its wake. Luckily Hunger's other companions were positioned elsewhere around the system; with transcendental quickness he threw himself forward, retrieving the others and teleporting them to safety. Hunger spared a moment for Dien; Novakhron's primary cannon barked once, discharging a torrential pillar of energy towards his manifestation. At the same moment he displaced Aobaru to a distant uninhabited star, swiftly following afterwards.
The boy stilled, every muscle tensed as if straining against the efflux of power that raged within him. At Hunger's arrival he locked on, exploding forwards as if grateful for a target to vent his strength on.
Then the Shogun was upon him: blink-spasm forth as his blade severed space, gliding with eerie smoothness around Novakhron's suppressive fire as he skated into melee range. The impression of his descent was unearthly grace married to unthinkable power, sheer ravaging might that seemed to roil the universe at their collision, shake loose the cosmos from its moorings.
But Novakhron the Dog of War was mightier still. Unmoved and unbroken from the severity of that impact, Hunger's Armament shifted out of its defensive stance to retaliate with a blow of its own: power focused rather than wastefully extruded, brutal driving mass like a hammer-blow crushing the boy, whose form fractured and distorted under such concerted might. Aobaru spun out wildly, but an instant later corrected himself; somehow converting and dissipating the force as discharged heat, no more than a judicious flare of the fiery nimbus that constantly emanated from him.
Hunger frowned. It was a considerable exertion simply to keep Aobaru's power from obliterating the universe, even with his own Pressure fused to Novakhron's. Adorie's power of winter was slightly effective at neutralizing it, but at the cost of expending its own force. And his clones were thoroughly occupied containing Dien.
Such effortless skill from the unseasoned teenager was the Shogun's contribution, no doubt. This would not be trivial, even with the advantages of his form and all his magics. He was the faster and stronger of them, but not unassailably so, even with his attainments in the Praxis. And his opponent now drew from a well of battle-knowledge, instinct excruciatingly internalized, that might be unmatched in this realm.
"What is this about?" Hunger asked in the thundering basso of Novakhron's voice.
Aobaru shook his head. "You wouldn't understand. But we want Dien gone too, just without you too mighty ever to challenge. Let me weaken you enough and then we can destroy him together. Your current strength, alongside those Curses, is an unsustainable combination!"
"My Curses will not let up just because I'm weakened. The Shogun is using you," Hunger replied. "They will rationalize anything to justify their rule. That's all this is."
Aobaru sighed, and tightened the grip on his blade. "I knew you wouldn't understand."
All about them came the sense of a great retraction, spacetime breathing in: inversion of the all-pervading fury that had accompanied Aobaru's ascent, power drawn back and condensed, refined into faultless clarity. He moved.
If his first strike was heat then this was light, flash of steel and pure shining sharpness, singing partition as the blade-stroke approached.
Hunger exerted the Realm, diminishing his opponent along every aspect and parameter, heightening his own prowess as he drew on the Refinement of War. He did not meet Aobaru's blade but evaded it, curling around to strike at his flank with an unabated haymaker blow.
This, too, the Shogun anticipated, as blades of compressed Vigorflame appeared along Aobaru's shoulders and back, cleaving through and deflecting the main body of Hunger's strike as the boy twisted, cleanly severing the shoulder of Novakhron in exchange. Hunger grunted, and without hesitation detonated the Armament's gun-arm, which lay directly beneath that shoulder. If maneuver would not suffice, then simply trade resources.
A typhoon of energy washed over them both, atomizing the boy's armor; Ruin burrowing deep as claws of entropic magic savaged Aobaru's reinforced flesh.
The Shogun beat a hasty retreat, vortex-jets of Vigorflame propelling him away from the heart of the explosion, juking and angling with supernal ease even as Hunger teleported to pursue. Hunger's dominion over life and essence was already restoring the sacrificed arm, but without the Refinement of War he was not quite able to close the distance. His chaser-volley was ultimately ineffectual, lines of missed fire like scars in the universe fading slowly as Aobaru recovered. A swell of gold-white flames congealed across his body, forming false limbs and skin to replace Ruin-splintered flesh. Cautiously they circled, preparing to re-engage. Neither had truly tapped their depths in this fight, but they were both wasting time, giving Dien a window to act.
"Hah... unbelievable." Aobaru panted, drawing ragged breaths. An artifact of habit, seeing as they were in space, but their mutual Pressure smoothed over such tiny concerns. "Even after all I've gained, you're barely even taking me seriously."
"Neither of us are fighting to kill," Hunger replied. "Whatever your concerns are, we can address them in time. Cease this contest. We ought to deal with Dien first."
"Feel free," Aobaru said, "But I can't let up. Your being distracted by Dien is the only chance I have to actually win."
Hunger frowned. "And how many will the Surgeon massacre in that time? You're relying on me to save them, while simultaneously carving up my flank? Hardly the actions of a hero, or of any worthy ruler."
"What matters a hero in the face of a Cursebearer?" He shrugged. "I'm just a theme park manager. Without strength enough, my only recourse is treachery. You taught me that."
They did not have any more time to waste. Both were quicker than Dien, himself considerably so, but the Surgeon had well-demonstrated on countless occasions why it ought not be left to its own devices. From their interactions so far, Aobaru at least had retained some semblance of sanity, and the compression of his nimbus mitigated his threat to the greater universe. Assuming his aura was even dangerous to life - Hunger suspected it might re-contextualize biological entities into beings of pure spirit.
Aobaru was the deadlier opponent, but would inflict less collateral damage upon the cosmos. Without the ability to decisively crush one of the Shogun's apparent skill, the correct decision was clear. Hunger had no choice but to prioritize Dien first.
Hunger said nothing, and swiftly departed, teleporting back to their original system. Aobaru followed in hot pursuit, winking out like a spent ember only to re-emerge from a nearby star, birthed from a tongue of coronal flame. At his appearance, all the stars in the sky flared in metronomic unison, dead suns re-igniting like ash become the phoenix.
---
Aobaru is developing mastery over his vastly-expanded capabilities with outrageous speed. If allowed to fully integrate his new powers, he might become a threat to Hunger himself, at least enough to credibly achieve his stated objective of permanently weakening the Cursebearer. On the other hand, every moment wasted gives more time for Dien to generate yet another atrocity for some invented purpose. Small mercy that this is occurring at speeds too quick for the other companions even to perceive, much less get involved - but that means they will be little help here, as well.
[ ] There Can Only Be One - Aobaru's intractable for now, but Dien seems to have some fixation on combating Hunger directly. Perhaps that can be usefully channeled in this case? Attempt to join forces with the Surgeon until this 'interloper' is subdued, so that they might have an unbiased contest of who is truly more able.
Treachery is your only recourse, Chosen One? Two can play at that game.
*Tactics can improve odds, though remember that Hunger has never really met Dien
*It's not really in Dien's interests to do this, and the Hero will do anything to win
*On the other hand, he may not take kindly to another attempting to usurp his role!
*And Hunger will only accept if Dien can credibly commit to not performing any atrocities for the duration...
[ ] Full Speed Ahead - Just let the boy do his worst while Hunger focuses on taking down Dien. Unfortunately there's no truly superior solution here. The faster Dien falls, the sooner Hunger can turn his full attention to the root cause of this uprising. Perhaps he'll be able to extirpate the Shogun from Aobaru, see if that makes him more reasonable.
*Hunger can probably destroy Dien pretty quickly, if he's doing his uttermost
*Simplify the equation, even if at a cost
*Aobaru will certainly get some damage in, all the while scaling even further. It's nearly at the point where his Vigorflame can strengthen or incinerate arbitrary concepts in anyplace touched by heat or light...
[ ] Usurpation Containment Wave - The Seal of Ruin has an almost unacceptably large wind-up at these speeds, but if successfully executed will cripple Aobaru's destructive capabilities and his ability to scale. But while Hunger performs the Praxis technique, he will either have to endure the heroes' combined onslaught, or attempt to evade and leave the universe at Dien's mercies. Perhaps the boy will step in if the Surgeon attempts anything truly unconscionable.
*A fairly straightforward strategy, though one that risks much in exchange for establishing control over the parameters of the engagement.
[ ] A House Divided - Hunger was bluffing; Aobaru is too great a threat to merely give free reign. Dien has little chance of actually slaying his projected Tyrant, while Aobaru's power is unfathomably immense and his skill now greater than Hunger's own. Hunger has no choice but to bring now the full weight of his still-greater might to bear, and crush the boy before things escalate further. His clones will have to do their best to defend the Sphere in the meantime.
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