Also, here's a short little omake to make up for the schedule slip. This was originally "That's a Bad Move, Little Ant" before I went back and retooled the concept. I may wind up making a small series out of this.
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Praying here felt like cheating.
Without the endless chatter of life, without even the gentle touch and rustle of the wind, it was child's play for Isaac Netero to turn his gaze inwards and immerse himself in the placid waters he knew so well. He gave thanks to the martial arts that had followed him beyond death, had carried his indomitable will into this new world.
His knee twinged, a microscopic motion that the world's finest doctors would struggle to identify even with the finest camera equipment, and he frowned. The waters churned and boiled, but he remained submerged, drawing from his years on the mountain.
He'd gotten old. He'd gotten complacent. He'd let patterns slip into his attacks; not even one in a hundred, not even one in a thousand strikes, but they were there and he'd died because of them. Isaac Netero the martial artist cherished the fight against the unstoppable Ant King. Isaac Netero the man was furious that a newborn whelp with delusions of grandeur had gotten the best of him.
"Something the matter?"
The Chairman did not bother to turn around as the gently-creaking wheelchair approached, instead rising to his feet and looking out at the massive moon above.
"A bit of impatience on my part. I'm very eager for the rematch I told you of," he replied with a friendly smile.
Gehrman chuckled. "Still think you're in Hell, then?"
"It's either that or I have gravely misjudged both my character and his."
Netero crouched down and proceeded to stretch, though more for show than anything else. Old though it was, his body remained as limber as ever. Even the Chairman's joints knew better than to draw his ire.
"Has Yharnam's opposition not been up to your standards?" said Gehrman.
"Oh, here and there, but everything is a disappointment after that monster." He smirked and looked down towards the old caretaker. "Although perhaps I'm just not looking in the right places."
Gehrman acted oblivious for all of a second before seemingly realizing the pointlessness of the gesture. "Was it that obvious?"
Netero's smirk grew wider.
"I'm not working against you," said Gehrman.
"You're welcome to; it's more fun that way." Netero turned towards the Dream's myriad graves and strode away. "Don't worry, we don't have to do this right away. I don't know how long you've been in that chair and there's no point in fighting you if you're not at your best."
Gehrman had yet to reply by the time Netero knelt at a bustling grave and vanished from sight. The old master allowed his smirk to blossom into a true smile as he emerged once more in Yharnam's ruined streets.
It seems, King of the Ants, that you may have to wait as well.