Goddess' Shooting Star (Black★Rock Shooter X Persona 4)

Ninety seconds seems so small from here. Even with the Knights looming at the far end of the corridor, even with the intellectual awareness that every single one of those seconds will become an eternity the moment you close that distance, it seems like such a short time. A minute and a half, a bare fraction of an hour, a day, a week.

90 seconds.

"I can do it." You give voice to confidence you don't feel. To certainty that does not truly exist except at this remove. Steel hisses and you look over to see Narukami drawing his sword.

"Just hold out as long as you can Mato. We'll back you up." His stance is awkward but his voice is flat and his eyes are hard. In response, you draw your own blade the metal gleaming darkly in the dull orange light as you give a nod, not trusting your voice not to shake.

You barely hear the shout that spurs you into motion. Your blood roars in your ears as your toes dig into the carpet, accelerating sharply, turning the peripheries of your vision into blurs of light and shadow as your focus narrows to the knights as they charge. The left one taking a lead position while the right falls back slightly, clearing their companion's sword to swing freely. The massive black blades come low, a vertical slice that you don't doubt could cleave you in two in a single blow if allowed to land.

At a yell, your group separates, the others joining the colours in the corners of your vision as your foot strikes the ground and you launch yourself upwards, higher than you would have ever expected to manage.

Then the Knight's sword swings up and you remember that you have now Rock Shooter to direct yourself with.

Black metal screams as you meet the wide slice, the sheer momentum arresting your arc, holding you to hang in space for an instant that seems all too similar to an eternity, overcoming your own mass and turning your vertical motion into near-horizontal as the force of the knight's swing launches you at the nearest wall.

You don't hit it, you land on it and launch yourself off the moment you can get your feet under you. Beyond the Knight you catch flickers of energy swirling, a maelstrom of power unleashed by the Personas flickering in and out of view before black plate fills your vision once more.

80 seconds.

This time the sword comes down at a diagonal and once more you are unable to do anything but block, wincing as Daidara's work shudders in your hands at the impact, steel alloy keening as though in pain. The angle launches you towards the ground, far too quickly this time, forcing you to tuck and roll and pray that your grip is tight enough to keep the sword's single edge from twisting towards you. A baffling kaleidoscope of blacks and reds running together in your vision until-!
You bring your palm down and experience a brief flicker of surprise that the direction really is 'down' before the push turns your desperate roll into a little spring that propels you back to verticality and almost out the other side to fall again as the world spins around you. Your inner ear struggling to keep up. The Knight, where's the Knight?! He's charging, all too close already, and you dive to the opposite side from his sword, not trusting your depth perception to serve you in trying to get in close just yet.

Not too early to evade his strike but early enough that he slows and pulls his horse into a rear, swiftly bringing the sword up and around from the half-aborted blow into a new attack. Forcing you to take hurried steps back.
You leap again, some part of your brain screaming at the stupidity of trying the same thing over and over again. "What is that thing that westerners say about the definition of insanity?" But you've learned your lesson from those attempts, and while the knight is committed to his swing you go over his sword, your toes tapping the flat of the blade for the briefest of moments as you get in close, far too close for either of your weapons to be brought to bear properly.

70 Seconds

So of course the stupidly-strong Monster Knight launches a gauntleted fist at your face.
You duck, shifting your sword to a two-handed grip as you aim a thrust at the Knight's unprotected armpit only to have the thrust go wide, your lack of stable platform (or any platform at all really, considering the circumstances) proving insufficient when it comes to the precision needed to aim your blow at that weak point.

Then gravity takes over again and your arrested forward momentum swiftly changes to downwards instead, leaving you with no options but to kick off the horse' flank and feel a line of cold fire trace across your bicep as you jump clear of the knight's thrust.

You land and nearly stumble as PAIN strikes you like a hammerblow, every little motion of your arm drawing a spasm from around the cut. Memories of spreading taint and poison come and go as you remember. No green glow to the blade.

You still wince as you take up a stance again and the Knight rushes to meet you. Lashing out under the oversized horse' forelegs and feeling your sword shudder in your hands as it bites into the animal's body for a moment before a kick nearly knocks it clean out of your weakened grip and you're forced to spin to keep your your hands on your weapon.
You recover, feeling the pain burning at your upper arm as the knight wheels to face you again. Uninterested in offering any respite, he charges towards you again, sword held high rather than low to keep you from simply predicting which side his swing will come on.

Feinting to the right for an instant, then dodging to the left with a cross-step as the stroke descends. Too slow to keep the horse from body-checking you in its rush, but fast enough to keep from being trampled as you fall out of the path of its thundering hooves.

60 Seconds

You dare to risk a look around but in spite of the barrage of magic that was being tossed the other knight's way it still hasn't gone down yet, the situation having devolving into a chaotic melee with flashes of energy attacks interspersed with shouts and screams. Slowly but surely they're whittling the knight down.
"Too slowly." you agree, feeling a sinking sensation in the pit of your stomach.

Then the Knight is charging you again and there's no more time for distraction.

You don't know if Teddie isn't paying attention or simply missed the wound on your arm in the chaos but whichever it is, you're rapidly learning that even through the adrenaline rush of combat, the stabs of pain as the muscles tense and the skin shifts are distracting in the extreme. You have to watch how you move, watch how you roll, and every swing comes just a little slower than they did before. You cross step again, feinting to evade another attack and swinging for the less armored legs, drawing a scream from the horse as your blade bites to the bone for a moment and is nearly torn from your hands again for your trouble.

The resulting stumble slows the beast however and you see a chance. Moving without thinking as you pursue the foe, blade lashing between its legs, left, right.

You don't dodge back fast enough and stars explode in front of your vision.

Flat on your back, your chest aching with every breath, but there's no stabbing pain even as you push off the floor and haul air into your lungs. You probably haven't broken any ribs.

The horse is down, its right hind leg collapsed entirely under it while the left kicks uselessly at the carpet. Not quite hamstrung, but close enough that the knight is swinging his leg over and extricating himself from his fallen mount as you try to draw yourself up, recovering your fallen sword as you rise and set yourself into a stance.

The knight picks up his own sword and stalks towards you, every footfall almost tangible through the floor despite the thick carpet.

Breaths that feel far too shallow burn in your lungs. You don't dare look away from your foe for even an instant, unable to glean a picture of the rest of the fight that's going on behind you.

Even on foot, your opponent towers over you, moving with unnatural grace despite the bulky armor.

How much longer now..?

The sword lashes out as a poisonous bright green aura coalesces around it. A quick thrust that you bat aside, another twinge in your shoulder, a stiffness and ache in your chest and stomach.
The deflection is twisted into a vertical slash and you bring your arms up in a hanging block that knocks the heavy blade to the side even as your bicep screams pain into your mind and then the Knight steps forwards again, relentlessly advancing, and forcing you to backpedal just to keep the distance. Driving you away from the others one step at a time.

Monstrously strong and massive enough that even his shorter blade matches your reach.

I'm going to die. The thought digs into your mind, an awareness of just how close you've danced to the brink. Your whole body aches and the Knight leaves you barely any room to breathe. Your shoulder screams with every blow deflected, your fingers trembling with the effort of keeping a grip on your sword.
You step under a blow and dive under the follow-up punch, tucking and rolling awkwardly on your uninjured shoulder before springing to your feet, buying yourself scant seconds of breathing room. Blue flame tints the corner of your vision, bright and furious, desperate.
The card is in your other hand.
You cry out…

[ ] A wordless scream of defiance.
[ ] "Black Rock Shooter!"
[ ] "Yosuke!"
[ ] PERSONA!