Arc 4: Mad world.
- Location
- Here
Ragnarok didn't like to remember.
Those oldest things, the torment, the endless torture, they hurt to think about. To remember.
Even after suffering through all that, and learning to attack anything and everything to try and survive, they weren't pleasant memories to say the least.
It hurt more now to know that towards the end of the nightmare, the one he had been ripping and tearing had been his new host and younger Sibling, Crona. Not his tormentor, but just another victim… One smaller and less defended than even his own cripled self.
He… He tried to make up for that. To redeem himself, even a little, since then.
But those days had forged him sturdy, both mentally and practically.
Survival.
Rage.
Violence.
His backbone and cornerstone, his foundation: To live.
Later on, as he grew with his younger half, it even expanded slightly: To have them BOTH live.
But all his history and past experiences didn't help here.
He was never taught, not traditionally. Not how to be subtle, not how to learn or think, not how to adapt.
He was beaten to learn regeneration and recovery, he was tortured to learn viciousness and undirected aggression and violence.
At no point had Ragnarok been taught how to act in a stealthy manner.
Still, he tried his best.
Black Blood had soaked into the wall, and on a scale smaller than any he believed possible his body formed into countless near invisible mouths. The bright red lips and tongue, those deceptively sharp white teeth, bit into paint and glue and plaster and drywall and wood and then these STUPID METAL PLATES that formed this prison.
As quietly as possible, the tiny jaws tore into the material.
As slowly as needed, the freed debris was carefully guided and pulled into his growing mass of a body that cradled the sleeping Crona.
Nothing could be risked. No sound of crunching, no vibrations, no quiet rustling as material fell to the floor.
So the freed chunks and particles of wall were pulled into the Black Blood and C̸̮͍ͅo̡̠̼̜͇̜̤̞n͖̤̪͙͚͔͓͍s̸̹̼̥̖̺̰̼͖̞͡ų͚̠̘m̪͖̜̝̺̙͈ͅe̺̫͇̟d̷͉͙͖̥.
Some was needed, oddly enough. The human body needed trace elements of all sorts of non-organic stuff, like iron, zinc, fluoride, selenium, copper, chromium, iodine, manganese, and molybdenum.
And Crona's body, after all the experimentation and mutilation, needed even more odd things as well… Some of which was found in these materials that were slowly being chewed from the surroundings.
He should know, all his life he had been keeping Crona from crossing over that razor edge of life and death. While he was very much uninformed about MOST of the world, when it came to his younger sibling and keeping them alive he was a master.
The vast bulk of this dross though was useless slag, even after carefully reserving some of the more valuable material for manifesting stronger and denser blades and weaponry in the future within the Black Blood itself.
Thankfully, slumbering within Ragnarok's liquid form, was something fundamental and H̨̨͕̫̱̺͈̱͘ų̼͖͉̦̙̻ǹ̡͕̖g̴̶͙̭̣͚͈̦̣̘r͞͏̻̰ỳ̫͙.
So he fed the useless fragments to the Darkness within.
For some odd reason, it just felt… Right.
And the benefits were instant and significant. Suddenly the strain of forcing the Black Blood to manifest like this dropped significantly, and the loss of stored energy within the material began to rapidly recover.
Oh, better food would mean far greater results, but the important thing here was that Ragnarok could now bore into the walls faster with less stress and no mass of excess material to manage.
Progress was moving smoothly until he felt the familiar aura of Madness attempt to touch their blood, causing him to instantly pause.
He manifested more white eyes with pink rings to better see inside the corroding hole in the wall… And saw a network of snake like symbols and patterns.
Familiar ones.
Those over there were the ones that kept their screams from annoying the witch when she was attempting some new body modification. That one did something… Maybe alerting when a change occurred? That day had nearly killed them both a few times, and he couldn't remember the pattern right…
Shit.
Cautiously, Ragnarok began to seep outwards, soaking the material as close to the strange patterns as possible without coming into contact with the magic itself.
Let's just… Open up some space. See what they were dealing with here.
If nothing else, consuming these layers of metal and rock and stuff had almost doubled his mass so far. Crona was slumbering in a nest of Black Blood now, and seemed more at peace than he EVER remembered them showing before, so he had some time to work something out.
A white skeletal system with hungry pink highlights began to form within the Black Blood as more and more material was Consumed and the odd network of snake patterns became more exposed.
The additional support allowed greater body shapes to be constructed without increasing the cost of keeping Crona secured, and the pink material that now formed with his harder structures seemed to act as energy or impact redistributors… They Hungered for energy, and would send anything they absorbed directly into their Black Blood for Ragnarok to redistribute.
Sure, these pink bones also consumed that same energy AGAIN as it showed up in the Dark liquid, but it sort of established a stable harmony after a few moments.
Anything extra, such as the vibrations of chewing away this stubborn and strong material or theoretical attacks from a foe?
All that stuff would disrupt this delicate balance and get converted into heat or vibration or magic or whatever and then be D͏̹e̟̗̜͎̼̩v̰̝o̹ͅure̶d̺̮̞̤ for their use. Free food and fuel, less effort needed to stay quiet!
But even with this growing advantage as he continued to Consume this prison into the Darkness, Ragnarok couldn't risk attempting to soak the Black Blood into this magical pattern.
What if breaking it would call Medusa here or set off an alarm?
So the many limbs of Black Blood continued to soak and chew and grind and consume more and more material.
After all, Ragnarok was not just an experiment, he was also the Demon Sword of Black Blood.
And a Weapon only needed to find the right point to strike down any obstacle.
~~~Broken Adventure~~~
The powerful witch, Medusa Gorgon, paused in her laboratory, chemicals still reacting to the side while her notes were being reorganized.
Something had felt off.
While it was probably nothing, it was better to check. Just in case. "Nake-Snake, Cobra, Co-bra… Nake-Snake, Cobra, Co-bra! [[Vector Arrows.]]"
Black arrows twisted around her and began to connect to the established vector arrows that hooked into her defensive network, moving in snake-like patterns.
There was something… Yes, something is stressing her systems. Not a direct assault, more like an odd probe or some sort of signal being sent or searched… How odd.
Her eyes flickered to the various alarms and alerts… Very subtle. Almost unnoticeable.
She couldn't help but frown.
This wasn't the best time for some sort of interference.
Her experiments were at a critical juncture. With a bit more manipulation, her child would finally crack apart and Madness could properly began to cultivate Crona's future, to help the Black Blood develop into a true Kishin!
Those beings were created from the over-hunting of a large number of pure, 'good' people… By consuming their human souls and tormenting them to shift into devastatingly effective Madness attenuators.
It would allow her child to become a powerful, dangerous, destructive entity… An Asura, a demon of the world, something far greater than some worthless lab attempt!
And NO one would be allowed to threaten her work.
Besides, until the little one cracked and became more pliable by raw Madness, she couldn't ensure that Crona would properly begin to consume the souls required. The child was still trapped with emotions and empathy and other such weaknesses, even torturing and killing those animals caused them distress!
Unacceptable.
All of this was beyond accepting.
She stood with power and began striding towards the main facility rooms, to properly prepare for whatever was attempting to infiltrate her facility.
If they didn't wish to be slaughtered, then they shouldn't have come uninvited.
Besides, it was always nice to gather a few new experimental subjects and samples.
~~~Broken Adventure~~~
Stein paused… And grinned, a sharp smile full of madness that his scarred and stitched up face only enhanced. "Ah… A research facility."
Something flickered to his Soul senses. "A hidden, ACTIVE research facility. One belonging to what feels like a witch."
His half lidded eyes checked the collection of junk he had roughly cludged into a passable signal scanner. "A witch who has apparently created something VERY interesting indeed…"
A sudden pulse of D̛҉͜͝͞ÀN̴̛͜͠͡G҉̸͝É̴̸͞͏Ŕ̵̢̕ made his grin manic.
"I may have found my target."
~~~Broken Adventure~~~
Ragnarok flinched as the growing hole that exposed the magical patterns flashed, the light of the symbols pulsing with power. [[Shit. Did I set something off?]]
A distant explosion and the rough vibration in the walls suggested otherwise. [[Shit! Well, I've never been great at subtly anyway.]]
He pulled deep, the Black Blood swelling his reinforced body, skeletal system allowing his already massive muscles to contort and swell and then HISS as each component was forcibly compressed!
His right arm became a blade of PASSION! A sharp spike with a bone base covered with bright red mouths that all opened to S̡͏̬͚̰c̛͈͇̰̘̟̩͙ͅr҉͔̰̺͚͓͈͇̖̹͟e̸̗͕̝̣͠a̹̹̦̗̟̟̜̺͞͡m̵̺̫̳̙̰̪̱̩̞̕!
[[S̸͡҉͢C̨̀Ŗ͟Ȩ̸́͘͝E͏̢̨͠Ć̢̢͜͠H̸̡̧͘͢ G͏́͠͏A҉̡̕͞M͏͟M̷͢À̷̛͘!]]
He SMASHED the blade into the flickering magic blocking his escape, even as the raw vibration of his and Crona's Soul forced the already deadly weapon to easily pierce most obstacles!
The magic flailed and pulsed, but it died like everything else as the rebound of the vicious Scream Resonance attempted to pierce everything!
Ragnarok didn't even pause as the vicious power was consumed by his new skeletal structure and redistributed back to his Black Blood, keeping Crona slumbering peacefully while doubling the damage that was shocking this STUPID BARRIER! [[BREAK FOR ME!]]
The power in the wall attempted to hiss… And then gasped and died, allowing the massive blade to massacrate the reinforced material behind it.
Using the spike sword as a wedge, the edges fanged open and began to consume an escape passage at the fastest rate possible as a sudden scream of familiar rage rang out in the distant explosions.
Ragnarok couldn't care less though. [[WE WILL BE FREE!]]
And despite being asleep, despite being hurt, despite not knowing how to handle this…
Crona's Soul Resonated with Ragnarok anyway.
A massive claw of swords and mouths and rage tore into the world, and the waves of Sound screamed in pain and joy and Madness and Darkness right alongside them.
[[S̕͘͟͞C̸̀͘͢R̴̸È́͜E̴̛͘C͘҉H̨̧̛͟ ̶̡͢ ̶̡͢ ̸̵͏G̸̸̕Á̶̡͢M̸̷̡͡M͏̴̶́͝A͢͞!]]
Even the distant battle paused as a power tainted with Madness and Darkness P̬̺u̼̪̤͔̙͙̮l͇̲͕̺̳̼̱͜s̶͓̲e̢͈̣͉d̴͉͉̪͖̜̗̮ͅ into the night!
~~~Broken Adventure~~~
Medusa felt her heart drop at the explosion! "NO! My experiment!"
The slightly bloody patchwork of a man grinned as he flexed a hand that flickered with Lightning. "Not something important I hope? You know, we can still put this small conflict aside with only a… Minor amount of surgical documentation required." His gaze moved to the deadly arrows that could redirect his attacks and movements.
She didn't have time for this! It didn't matter HOW attractive his Madness was, she couldn't risk the Black Blood escaping her overview with the host not yet destabilized! "No more flirting, no more teasing: Just die quietly so I can get more important things done."
His lit cigarette twitched as he reached up to the massive bolt-screw running through his skull.
Ć̛͏̸͎̰͖ͅl̷̝̥̖̫̯̫̱̗̞͔̣͞ì̴͙͎̥̩̰̞͎̯͇̱̟̦͘͢c̡҉҉̴̪͓̤̬̝̺̖̖̪̪͙̹̯͓ḱ̨̞͎͕̤̣̳͇̟̭̻͟͠.̶̙̫̭̻̙̭̱͇͔̥͝
.
With one movement, his whole body shifted posture. "Death sounds very inconvenient. I should know, I work for him."
She flinched! This insane monster worked with THE DEATH, the headmaster of Death Weapon Meister Academy and the leader fighting the war against Kishins and Madness-crazed witches!?
How could someone like THAT sneak up on her secured facility!?
Her broken security… Because her child, her WORK had escaped.
She didn't have time for this. "Nake-Snake, Cobra, Co-bra! Nake-Snake, Cobra, Co-bra! [[Vector Arrows!!!]]"
But she didn't attack.
She tried to flee!
She couldn't risk losing her experiment! Not her work! NO!
A massive pulse forced her to pause and resist the power as a huge orb formed behind her, the intruder's manifested Soul a crazy looking hacked apart and stitched up ghost-like ball with a massive screw embedded into it.
His eyes glowed with the power of insanity. "Oh, don't go… I haven't even started the autopsy yet!"
She felt the fear of losing her life's work struggle against the will to survive…
And then conflict resumed, and she had other things to worry about.
~~~Broken Adventure~~~
The soil cracked as the underground containment area was fully breached and Ragnarok clawed his many Black Blood limbs free from the world's embrace. [[Maha HAHaA! Is THIS the outside!?]]
Madness filled Ragnarok's vision as he looked up and up and up and there was no concrete ceiling or lab surface or glass observation tube or mess of equipment, only more and more nothingness!
Off in that nothing, a glowing yellow crescent moon grinned down in insanity, it's clenched bright white teeth bleeding bright red blood as the rictus smile vibrated with it's near silent cackling, the black craters of it's glowing yellow eye looking down upon the freed siblings in satisfaction and glee.
Freedom!
Heh heh heh ha ha hA HA!
Crona shifted, and Ragnarok wrenched back his focus with alacrity and a deadly force.
Freedom only mattered when one could possess it.
His form hunched forwards as all his claws gripped the soil, fingers shifting to blades and his muscled form twisting with power. The spikes of flesh or bone shifted as he focused on true escape, of fleeing this place.
[[Speed. We need distance, we can try to hide later.]]
A distant explosion from ongoing combat combined with the crackle of distant lightning only convinced him to move faster. [[Let's go, Crona!]]
His sleeping partner silently gave their support, probably.
And they M̺̣̖͙̞͈̪̕o̻͍̘̫v̨̜͚͕e̶̠d͕̱͓͙̣͞.
Rock crumbled under his claws, roots tore on his blades, soil carved at his grip and the Darkness cradled the pair as their speed increased at an astonishing rate.
Still, he had priorities other than the raw need to flee. Each step attempted to touch wood fragments, odd stones, and various small plants or bugs. Blades of Black Blood that would form endless mouths and chew and grind and feed the Darkness, while extracting what little useful material could be gathered for Crona to continue their recovery.
After all, long term starvation caused many problems beyond the basics that he had already treated his sibling for, and Crona needed more than just biological stability.
They needed food and water, and odd chemicals and materials, and he needed to collect that while fleeing as fast as possible. This location was in some sort of forest, and he had no idea how far the nearest group of people would be or how trustworthy they could be considered…
Honestly, all he knew about the outside world was the stuff taught to Crona to better assist their future hunting efforts and murder sprees.
Maybe he could find a puddle or small stream? For now, he had to rely on what moisture he could extract from the various living plants and stuff he crushed as they both fled into the trees.
Water was most critical, food would be lovely, but most important were finding some amount of vitamins and iron that Crona needed due to Black Blood basically needing to be rebuilt from scratch, since using Ragnarok was practically forcing their body to suffer under extreme blood loss functionally all the time…
Still, just being able to experience a place without walls for the first time, to smell something besides disinfectant and the rotted parts of their bodies or the creatures they were forced to slaughter… This was amazing!
Speaking of which… He kept an eye open for any creature that might be moving about nearby. A lot of issues could be handled with a good food source, and unlike Crona he didn't mind a bloody situation if it got the job done.
Better avoid anything too cute or too human though, since Crona wouldn't know how to deal with that.
Distant thunder made him focus and pick up speed.
Food later, escape now!
~~~Broken Adventure~~~
Dreams drift as Crona sleeps.
They didn't pause as they drifted, clouds of thought that flew forever.
Bolts of memories, fears of days long past, stabbing from sky to self in endless abuse.
Rains of moments, shared in the dark, of an older brother with tied hands and helpless rage.
Winds of change, as pain faded and worn flesh became new.
Cradled by Black Blood, the days of whispering to Mr. Corner seemed long gone. Long lost.
But even Mr. Corner would be happier now, now that the winds drifted.
Hands stained with wet blood, but it was not Black.
But without Black Blood, there was blood there still.
Before, such was survival. To stain oneself with the love of those that once were cradled by these same hands. To twist care and comfort into pain and loss.
Crona longed for such things taken from them.
But now, as drifting waves of slumber silently sang, the night was humming.
The Darkness was Singing.
And while such things were outside their understanding, beyond what they could handle, still the song continued.
A choir of love, a symphony of change.
Of those lost to rage, tortured by fate, haunted by choices, finding the Darkness.
Of the rotten being Consumed, and the hopeless finding a home.
A sanctuary for discarded children, a forest for abandoned Souls, a land of Wonder for a young goddess betrayed by life, an endless war for deathless warriors of time… And there, beyond all memories and thoughts and dreams, somewhere more.
A Kingdom, for Light and Dark and the Heart.
One touched by Shadow, but not coveted or consumed.
Black Blood gave rest to the youngest of Shadows, who strove to grow up in a land of more mature people, yet people still lost to the confusion of life.
How does one teach a topic they do not know?
How does one bestow lore and wisdom when they are lost themselves?
When fact and logic were disposable and easily shifted, how could they guide the way?
A hard answer, one that felt worse for the concern and care it breathed, was no.
One could not give a simple response to an endless question.
But the warmth from the Darkness continued to sing in the emptiness.
Learning was a process, teaching was a pathway.
Through bestowing what one gathered, their collection grew more complete.
From talking to one who was lost, one could find their way.
Crona whispered in slumber to the Shadow that slept.
They didn't know how to survive in a world so full of pain and sorrow.
They didn't understand how to grow, to protect themself, to find something beyond horror.
They couldn't handle it. Any of it. And they murmured these fears to the Darkness.
And Shadow slept, but the dreamer found a spark of Light in the process.
All else aside, one thing they knew: Their Blood was Black.
A pillar of truth, a bastion of sanity in this world of Madness.
Body may be torn and broken, muscles sheared and hurtfully reformed, but here in the place they couldn't handle they knew all the same: Their Blood was Black.
A brother, a partner, a friend and a hand in the Dark.
A sibling that prodded and teased, that harrassed and amused, that protected and carried burdens of his own.
Family was made of lies, love a tainted illusion, but when the world itself crumbles and existence finally dies, one thing above all this was true.
Their Blood was Black.
The concept was simple, the scope minute, yet a foundation of a conceptual nature did not require mountains or planets, nor stone or steel.
To build one's life, stability was key.
And for one child, stability was deep within them.
It ran in their Blood.
Sleep floated through clouds of confusion as the tormented child of Madness and Science began to grow new winds of their own.
At the core, at their essence, a Black pool began to swirl.
Later may come walls, to protect one's self.
Someday life could grow, and new relationships flourish.
Eventually this small pool could swell to a glorious pond or an endless sea.
But despite being unstable and liquid, this pool of Black Blood was, in its own way, more sturdy than any belief. More profound than any religion or legend or hero or monster.
Only for them, the children, could such a weak thing become so reliable and essential.
Not for outsiders. Not to them. For their Blood wouldn't be Black.
As for Crona, their body was reborn from fragments stolen from nature and a prison, from magic and Madness. A process that was slow but ongoing, procedural and relentless.
Cradled by Black Blood, their union would be strengthened further… Enhanced and enriched by the Shadows that now slept within their foundation.
Ninety-nine shades and a Gem of the Heart, that pulsed within slumber and veins.
The power was thick, and touched with chaos, and each part of them began to die and grow anew, stronger and odd and touched by the liquid of life.
By the Black Blood of foundation.
Changes would happen, Crona was sure. Even as they slumbered, changes would occur.
This was core information. Undeniable, unresistable, a law of reality.
But despite such a concern, Crona faced the thought with slumbering solidarity, for once without care about the outcome.
After all, many things would change as things often did… But in the end, there was a truth that could always be held up against any worry.
This much they knew: Their Blood was Black.
Sleeping in silent slumber, a child who had never developed enough of a self identity to consider themselves a person began to heal. Slowly, and on a Black and Bloody foundation, but heal all the same.
~~~Broken Adventure~~~
Ragnarok gasped as a wave of something helped the Black Blood unclench on some level, his monstrous and massive form finding some now sort of balance as his temporary body began refining itself.
Twisted and unusually formed limbs began to gain something like symmetry, the skeletal system cracked itself and restructured the framework to better protect his younger sibling, his body altering its stance to better move with smooth power and efficiency.
It was some hurdle finally crossed, some barrier unexpectedly breached, and if he was in LESS of a hurry and felt LESS hunted right now, he would probably attempt to just find somewhere safe and just breathe in the new changes.
At least their maximum speed had been kicked up another few notches now. And with fewer and stronger limbs, ones that didn't mutate and twist with every step, his progress was significantly smoother and less wasteful too, allowing any scavenged resources to be allocated towards further nurturing of Crona's cripled existence rather than simply repairing the damage he was causing while they escaped.
His many eyes twitched.
Had that been a hiss? No, probably not.
Still, it may be a good time to alter direction again. Going only in a straight line was stupid, and he had only done so initially to gain enough range from their 'mother' so that future path obscuration attempts wouldn't be instantly seen through. Hopefully.
Although… This sudden and deep control of his new body did open up an option or two that wasn't possible before.
A tug and shift had his limbs lose sharp edges, the surface itself altering to be more absorbent and soft, while the impacts and frantic effort would be partially collected by the pink bones and pink plates that covered his temporary body.
It felt really odd, like a fat guy holding in his gut to show off for someone, but now his new path wasn't leaving behind claw marks and torn earth and crumbled rocks and such.
Shifting Crona and his body mass closer to the soil, the branches were easier to avoid without bending or breaking any, and with a stronger grasp over his own material Black Blood shouldn't leave behind any scents or drops anymore, not without resisting a vicious assault or something.
A new direction, hopefully no trail… It might help a bit. Hopefully.
Someone probably could still track the pair if they examined which regions were full of freaked out animals or whatever, but at least it wouldn't be a literal line leading that asshole of a mom straight towards them.
Still no river or stream, but that was still the best plan he could come up with. A way to abuse his unnatural form to the fullest to ensure a safe escape, hopefully.
Find a rapid flow of water, one that other people would assume he would follow or swim along to disrupt any trails… And then dig into the waterbed and hide Crona underground, under water, with no pursuers.
The Black Blood could easily provide the needed air and stuff, even before being empowered by this new energy source… And unlike hiding by digging some random hole HERE, the flowing water would cover up any additional signs or traces he missed.
Hopefully.
His white orbs with black crosses glared at the passing terrain with growing frustration.
After all, he had a plan and a good chance of pulling it off now that he could skitter close to the ground with nearly no clues left behind. Things were finally looking up, hopefully.
Now if only he could actually FIND some sort of water source!
Wasn't it a rule that every forest had a river or something!? Dang it!
Those oldest things, the torment, the endless torture, they hurt to think about. To remember.
Even after suffering through all that, and learning to attack anything and everything to try and survive, they weren't pleasant memories to say the least.
It hurt more now to know that towards the end of the nightmare, the one he had been ripping and tearing had been his new host and younger Sibling, Crona. Not his tormentor, but just another victim… One smaller and less defended than even his own cripled self.
He… He tried to make up for that. To redeem himself, even a little, since then.
But those days had forged him sturdy, both mentally and practically.
Survival.
Rage.
Violence.
His backbone and cornerstone, his foundation: To live.
Later on, as he grew with his younger half, it even expanded slightly: To have them BOTH live.
But all his history and past experiences didn't help here.
He was never taught, not traditionally. Not how to be subtle, not how to learn or think, not how to adapt.
He was beaten to learn regeneration and recovery, he was tortured to learn viciousness and undirected aggression and violence.
At no point had Ragnarok been taught how to act in a stealthy manner.
Still, he tried his best.
Black Blood had soaked into the wall, and on a scale smaller than any he believed possible his body formed into countless near invisible mouths. The bright red lips and tongue, those deceptively sharp white teeth, bit into paint and glue and plaster and drywall and wood and then these STUPID METAL PLATES that formed this prison.
As quietly as possible, the tiny jaws tore into the material.
As slowly as needed, the freed debris was carefully guided and pulled into his growing mass of a body that cradled the sleeping Crona.
Nothing could be risked. No sound of crunching, no vibrations, no quiet rustling as material fell to the floor.
So the freed chunks and particles of wall were pulled into the Black Blood and C̸̮͍ͅo̡̠̼̜͇̜̤̞n͖̤̪͙͚͔͓͍s̸̹̼̥̖̺̰̼͖̞͡ų͚̠̘m̪͖̜̝̺̙͈ͅe̺̫͇̟d̷͉͙͖̥.
Some was needed, oddly enough. The human body needed trace elements of all sorts of non-organic stuff, like iron, zinc, fluoride, selenium, copper, chromium, iodine, manganese, and molybdenum.
And Crona's body, after all the experimentation and mutilation, needed even more odd things as well… Some of which was found in these materials that were slowly being chewed from the surroundings.
He should know, all his life he had been keeping Crona from crossing over that razor edge of life and death. While he was very much uninformed about MOST of the world, when it came to his younger sibling and keeping them alive he was a master.
The vast bulk of this dross though was useless slag, even after carefully reserving some of the more valuable material for manifesting stronger and denser blades and weaponry in the future within the Black Blood itself.
Thankfully, slumbering within Ragnarok's liquid form, was something fundamental and H̨̨͕̫̱̺͈̱͘ų̼͖͉̦̙̻ǹ̡͕̖g̴̶͙̭̣͚͈̦̣̘r͞͏̻̰ỳ̫͙.
So he fed the useless fragments to the Darkness within.
For some odd reason, it just felt… Right.
And the benefits were instant and significant. Suddenly the strain of forcing the Black Blood to manifest like this dropped significantly, and the loss of stored energy within the material began to rapidly recover.
Oh, better food would mean far greater results, but the important thing here was that Ragnarok could now bore into the walls faster with less stress and no mass of excess material to manage.
Progress was moving smoothly until he felt the familiar aura of Madness attempt to touch their blood, causing him to instantly pause.
He manifested more white eyes with pink rings to better see inside the corroding hole in the wall… And saw a network of snake like symbols and patterns.
Familiar ones.
Those over there were the ones that kept their screams from annoying the witch when she was attempting some new body modification. That one did something… Maybe alerting when a change occurred? That day had nearly killed them both a few times, and he couldn't remember the pattern right…
Shit.
Cautiously, Ragnarok began to seep outwards, soaking the material as close to the strange patterns as possible without coming into contact with the magic itself.
Let's just… Open up some space. See what they were dealing with here.
If nothing else, consuming these layers of metal and rock and stuff had almost doubled his mass so far. Crona was slumbering in a nest of Black Blood now, and seemed more at peace than he EVER remembered them showing before, so he had some time to work something out.
A white skeletal system with hungry pink highlights began to form within the Black Blood as more and more material was Consumed and the odd network of snake patterns became more exposed.
The additional support allowed greater body shapes to be constructed without increasing the cost of keeping Crona secured, and the pink material that now formed with his harder structures seemed to act as energy or impact redistributors… They Hungered for energy, and would send anything they absorbed directly into their Black Blood for Ragnarok to redistribute.
Sure, these pink bones also consumed that same energy AGAIN as it showed up in the Dark liquid, but it sort of established a stable harmony after a few moments.
Anything extra, such as the vibrations of chewing away this stubborn and strong material or theoretical attacks from a foe?
All that stuff would disrupt this delicate balance and get converted into heat or vibration or magic or whatever and then be D͏̹e̟̗̜͎̼̩v̰̝o̹ͅure̶d̺̮̞̤ for their use. Free food and fuel, less effort needed to stay quiet!
But even with this growing advantage as he continued to Consume this prison into the Darkness, Ragnarok couldn't risk attempting to soak the Black Blood into this magical pattern.
What if breaking it would call Medusa here or set off an alarm?
So the many limbs of Black Blood continued to soak and chew and grind and consume more and more material.
After all, Ragnarok was not just an experiment, he was also the Demon Sword of Black Blood.
And a Weapon only needed to find the right point to strike down any obstacle.
~~~Broken Adventure~~~
The powerful witch, Medusa Gorgon, paused in her laboratory, chemicals still reacting to the side while her notes were being reorganized.
Something had felt off.
While it was probably nothing, it was better to check. Just in case. "Nake-Snake, Cobra, Co-bra… Nake-Snake, Cobra, Co-bra! [[Vector Arrows.]]"
Black arrows twisted around her and began to connect to the established vector arrows that hooked into her defensive network, moving in snake-like patterns.
There was something… Yes, something is stressing her systems. Not a direct assault, more like an odd probe or some sort of signal being sent or searched… How odd.
Her eyes flickered to the various alarms and alerts… Very subtle. Almost unnoticeable.
She couldn't help but frown.
This wasn't the best time for some sort of interference.
Her experiments were at a critical juncture. With a bit more manipulation, her child would finally crack apart and Madness could properly began to cultivate Crona's future, to help the Black Blood develop into a true Kishin!
Those beings were created from the over-hunting of a large number of pure, 'good' people… By consuming their human souls and tormenting them to shift into devastatingly effective Madness attenuators.
It would allow her child to become a powerful, dangerous, destructive entity… An Asura, a demon of the world, something far greater than some worthless lab attempt!
And NO one would be allowed to threaten her work.
Besides, until the little one cracked and became more pliable by raw Madness, she couldn't ensure that Crona would properly begin to consume the souls required. The child was still trapped with emotions and empathy and other such weaknesses, even torturing and killing those animals caused them distress!
Unacceptable.
All of this was beyond accepting.
She stood with power and began striding towards the main facility rooms, to properly prepare for whatever was attempting to infiltrate her facility.
If they didn't wish to be slaughtered, then they shouldn't have come uninvited.
Besides, it was always nice to gather a few new experimental subjects and samples.
~~~Broken Adventure~~~
Stein paused… And grinned, a sharp smile full of madness that his scarred and stitched up face only enhanced. "Ah… A research facility."
Something flickered to his Soul senses. "A hidden, ACTIVE research facility. One belonging to what feels like a witch."
His half lidded eyes checked the collection of junk he had roughly cludged into a passable signal scanner. "A witch who has apparently created something VERY interesting indeed…"
A sudden pulse of D̛҉͜͝͞ÀN̴̛͜͠͡G҉̸͝É̴̸͞͏Ŕ̵̢̕ made his grin manic.
"I may have found my target."
~~~Broken Adventure~~~
Ragnarok flinched as the growing hole that exposed the magical patterns flashed, the light of the symbols pulsing with power. [[Shit. Did I set something off?]]
A distant explosion and the rough vibration in the walls suggested otherwise. [[Shit! Well, I've never been great at subtly anyway.]]
He pulled deep, the Black Blood swelling his reinforced body, skeletal system allowing his already massive muscles to contort and swell and then HISS as each component was forcibly compressed!
His right arm became a blade of PASSION! A sharp spike with a bone base covered with bright red mouths that all opened to S̡͏̬͚̰c̛͈͇̰̘̟̩͙ͅr҉͔̰̺͚͓͈͇̖̹͟e̸̗͕̝̣͠a̹̹̦̗̟̟̜̺͞͡m̵̺̫̳̙̰̪̱̩̞̕!
[[S̸͡҉͢C̨̀Ŗ͟Ȩ̸́͘͝E͏̢̨͠Ć̢̢͜͠H̸̡̧͘͢ G͏́͠͏A҉̡̕͞M͏͟M̷͢À̷̛͘!]]
He SMASHED the blade into the flickering magic blocking his escape, even as the raw vibration of his and Crona's Soul forced the already deadly weapon to easily pierce most obstacles!
The magic flailed and pulsed, but it died like everything else as the rebound of the vicious Scream Resonance attempted to pierce everything!
Ragnarok didn't even pause as the vicious power was consumed by his new skeletal structure and redistributed back to his Black Blood, keeping Crona slumbering peacefully while doubling the damage that was shocking this STUPID BARRIER! [[BREAK FOR ME!]]
The power in the wall attempted to hiss… And then gasped and died, allowing the massive blade to massacrate the reinforced material behind it.
Using the spike sword as a wedge, the edges fanged open and began to consume an escape passage at the fastest rate possible as a sudden scream of familiar rage rang out in the distant explosions.
Ragnarok couldn't care less though. [[WE WILL BE FREE!]]
And despite being asleep, despite being hurt, despite not knowing how to handle this…
Crona's Soul Resonated with Ragnarok anyway.
A massive claw of swords and mouths and rage tore into the world, and the waves of Sound screamed in pain and joy and Madness and Darkness right alongside them.
[[S̕͘͟͞C̸̀͘͢R̴̸È́͜E̴̛͘C͘҉H̨̧̛͟ ̶̡͢ ̶̡͢ ̸̵͏G̸̸̕Á̶̡͢M̸̷̡͡M͏̴̶́͝A͢͞!]]
Even the distant battle paused as a power tainted with Madness and Darkness P̬̺u̼̪̤͔̙͙̮l͇̲͕̺̳̼̱͜s̶͓̲e̢͈̣͉d̴͉͉̪͖̜̗̮ͅ into the night!
~~~Broken Adventure~~~
Medusa felt her heart drop at the explosion! "NO! My experiment!"
The slightly bloody patchwork of a man grinned as he flexed a hand that flickered with Lightning. "Not something important I hope? You know, we can still put this small conflict aside with only a… Minor amount of surgical documentation required." His gaze moved to the deadly arrows that could redirect his attacks and movements.
She didn't have time for this! It didn't matter HOW attractive his Madness was, she couldn't risk the Black Blood escaping her overview with the host not yet destabilized! "No more flirting, no more teasing: Just die quietly so I can get more important things done."
His lit cigarette twitched as he reached up to the massive bolt-screw running through his skull.
Ć̛͏̸͎̰͖ͅl̷̝̥̖̫̯̫̱̗̞͔̣͞ì̴͙͎̥̩̰̞͎̯͇̱̟̦͘͢c̡҉҉̴̪͓̤̬̝̺̖̖̪̪͙̹̯͓ḱ̨̞͎͕̤̣̳͇̟̭̻͟͠.̶̙̫̭̻̙̭̱͇͔̥͝
.
With one movement, his whole body shifted posture. "Death sounds very inconvenient. I should know, I work for him."
She flinched! This insane monster worked with THE DEATH, the headmaster of Death Weapon Meister Academy and the leader fighting the war against Kishins and Madness-crazed witches!?
How could someone like THAT sneak up on her secured facility!?
Her broken security… Because her child, her WORK had escaped.
She didn't have time for this. "Nake-Snake, Cobra, Co-bra! Nake-Snake, Cobra, Co-bra! [[Vector Arrows!!!]]"
But she didn't attack.
She tried to flee!
She couldn't risk losing her experiment! Not her work! NO!
A massive pulse forced her to pause and resist the power as a huge orb formed behind her, the intruder's manifested Soul a crazy looking hacked apart and stitched up ghost-like ball with a massive screw embedded into it.
His eyes glowed with the power of insanity. "Oh, don't go… I haven't even started the autopsy yet!"
She felt the fear of losing her life's work struggle against the will to survive…
And then conflict resumed, and she had other things to worry about.
~~~Broken Adventure~~~
The soil cracked as the underground containment area was fully breached and Ragnarok clawed his many Black Blood limbs free from the world's embrace. [[Maha HAHaA! Is THIS the outside!?]]
Madness filled Ragnarok's vision as he looked up and up and up and there was no concrete ceiling or lab surface or glass observation tube or mess of equipment, only more and more nothingness!
Off in that nothing, a glowing yellow crescent moon grinned down in insanity, it's clenched bright white teeth bleeding bright red blood as the rictus smile vibrated with it's near silent cackling, the black craters of it's glowing yellow eye looking down upon the freed siblings in satisfaction and glee.
Freedom!
Heh heh heh ha ha hA HA!
Crona shifted, and Ragnarok wrenched back his focus with alacrity and a deadly force.
Freedom only mattered when one could possess it.
His form hunched forwards as all his claws gripped the soil, fingers shifting to blades and his muscled form twisting with power. The spikes of flesh or bone shifted as he focused on true escape, of fleeing this place.
[[Speed. We need distance, we can try to hide later.]]
A distant explosion from ongoing combat combined with the crackle of distant lightning only convinced him to move faster. [[Let's go, Crona!]]
His sleeping partner silently gave their support, probably.
And they M̺̣̖͙̞͈̪̕o̻͍̘̫v̨̜͚͕e̶̠d͕̱͓͙̣͞.
Rock crumbled under his claws, roots tore on his blades, soil carved at his grip and the Darkness cradled the pair as their speed increased at an astonishing rate.
Still, he had priorities other than the raw need to flee. Each step attempted to touch wood fragments, odd stones, and various small plants or bugs. Blades of Black Blood that would form endless mouths and chew and grind and feed the Darkness, while extracting what little useful material could be gathered for Crona to continue their recovery.
After all, long term starvation caused many problems beyond the basics that he had already treated his sibling for, and Crona needed more than just biological stability.
They needed food and water, and odd chemicals and materials, and he needed to collect that while fleeing as fast as possible. This location was in some sort of forest, and he had no idea how far the nearest group of people would be or how trustworthy they could be considered…
Honestly, all he knew about the outside world was the stuff taught to Crona to better assist their future hunting efforts and murder sprees.
Maybe he could find a puddle or small stream? For now, he had to rely on what moisture he could extract from the various living plants and stuff he crushed as they both fled into the trees.
Water was most critical, food would be lovely, but most important were finding some amount of vitamins and iron that Crona needed due to Black Blood basically needing to be rebuilt from scratch, since using Ragnarok was practically forcing their body to suffer under extreme blood loss functionally all the time…
Still, just being able to experience a place without walls for the first time, to smell something besides disinfectant and the rotted parts of their bodies or the creatures they were forced to slaughter… This was amazing!
Speaking of which… He kept an eye open for any creature that might be moving about nearby. A lot of issues could be handled with a good food source, and unlike Crona he didn't mind a bloody situation if it got the job done.
Better avoid anything too cute or too human though, since Crona wouldn't know how to deal with that.
Distant thunder made him focus and pick up speed.
Food later, escape now!
~~~Broken Adventure~~~
Dreams drift as Crona sleeps.
They didn't pause as they drifted, clouds of thought that flew forever.
Bolts of memories, fears of days long past, stabbing from sky to self in endless abuse.
Rains of moments, shared in the dark, of an older brother with tied hands and helpless rage.
Winds of change, as pain faded and worn flesh became new.
Cradled by Black Blood, the days of whispering to Mr. Corner seemed long gone. Long lost.
But even Mr. Corner would be happier now, now that the winds drifted.
Hands stained with wet blood, but it was not Black.
But without Black Blood, there was blood there still.
Before, such was survival. To stain oneself with the love of those that once were cradled by these same hands. To twist care and comfort into pain and loss.
Crona longed for such things taken from them.
But now, as drifting waves of slumber silently sang, the night was humming.
The Darkness was Singing.
And while such things were outside their understanding, beyond what they could handle, still the song continued.
A choir of love, a symphony of change.
Of those lost to rage, tortured by fate, haunted by choices, finding the Darkness.
Of the rotten being Consumed, and the hopeless finding a home.
A sanctuary for discarded children, a forest for abandoned Souls, a land of Wonder for a young goddess betrayed by life, an endless war for deathless warriors of time… And there, beyond all memories and thoughts and dreams, somewhere more.
A Kingdom, for Light and Dark and the Heart.
One touched by Shadow, but not coveted or consumed.
Black Blood gave rest to the youngest of Shadows, who strove to grow up in a land of more mature people, yet people still lost to the confusion of life.
How does one teach a topic they do not know?
How does one bestow lore and wisdom when they are lost themselves?
When fact and logic were disposable and easily shifted, how could they guide the way?
A hard answer, one that felt worse for the concern and care it breathed, was no.
One could not give a simple response to an endless question.
But the warmth from the Darkness continued to sing in the emptiness.
Learning was a process, teaching was a pathway.
Through bestowing what one gathered, their collection grew more complete.
From talking to one who was lost, one could find their way.
Crona whispered in slumber to the Shadow that slept.
They didn't know how to survive in a world so full of pain and sorrow.
They didn't understand how to grow, to protect themself, to find something beyond horror.
They couldn't handle it. Any of it. And they murmured these fears to the Darkness.
And Shadow slept, but the dreamer found a spark of Light in the process.
All else aside, one thing they knew: Their Blood was Black.
A pillar of truth, a bastion of sanity in this world of Madness.
Body may be torn and broken, muscles sheared and hurtfully reformed, but here in the place they couldn't handle they knew all the same: Their Blood was Black.
A brother, a partner, a friend and a hand in the Dark.
A sibling that prodded and teased, that harrassed and amused, that protected and carried burdens of his own.
Family was made of lies, love a tainted illusion, but when the world itself crumbles and existence finally dies, one thing above all this was true.
Their Blood was Black.
The concept was simple, the scope minute, yet a foundation of a conceptual nature did not require mountains or planets, nor stone or steel.
To build one's life, stability was key.
And for one child, stability was deep within them.
It ran in their Blood.
Sleep floated through clouds of confusion as the tormented child of Madness and Science began to grow new winds of their own.
At the core, at their essence, a Black pool began to swirl.
Later may come walls, to protect one's self.
Someday life could grow, and new relationships flourish.
Eventually this small pool could swell to a glorious pond or an endless sea.
But despite being unstable and liquid, this pool of Black Blood was, in its own way, more sturdy than any belief. More profound than any religion or legend or hero or monster.
Only for them, the children, could such a weak thing become so reliable and essential.
Not for outsiders. Not to them. For their Blood wouldn't be Black.
As for Crona, their body was reborn from fragments stolen from nature and a prison, from magic and Madness. A process that was slow but ongoing, procedural and relentless.
Cradled by Black Blood, their union would be strengthened further… Enhanced and enriched by the Shadows that now slept within their foundation.
Ninety-nine shades and a Gem of the Heart, that pulsed within slumber and veins.
The power was thick, and touched with chaos, and each part of them began to die and grow anew, stronger and odd and touched by the liquid of life.
By the Black Blood of foundation.
Changes would happen, Crona was sure. Even as they slumbered, changes would occur.
This was core information. Undeniable, unresistable, a law of reality.
But despite such a concern, Crona faced the thought with slumbering solidarity, for once without care about the outcome.
After all, many things would change as things often did… But in the end, there was a truth that could always be held up against any worry.
This much they knew: Their Blood was Black.
Sleeping in silent slumber, a child who had never developed enough of a self identity to consider themselves a person began to heal. Slowly, and on a Black and Bloody foundation, but heal all the same.
~~~Broken Adventure~~~
Ragnarok gasped as a wave of something helped the Black Blood unclench on some level, his monstrous and massive form finding some now sort of balance as his temporary body began refining itself.
Twisted and unusually formed limbs began to gain something like symmetry, the skeletal system cracked itself and restructured the framework to better protect his younger sibling, his body altering its stance to better move with smooth power and efficiency.
It was some hurdle finally crossed, some barrier unexpectedly breached, and if he was in LESS of a hurry and felt LESS hunted right now, he would probably attempt to just find somewhere safe and just breathe in the new changes.
At least their maximum speed had been kicked up another few notches now. And with fewer and stronger limbs, ones that didn't mutate and twist with every step, his progress was significantly smoother and less wasteful too, allowing any scavenged resources to be allocated towards further nurturing of Crona's cripled existence rather than simply repairing the damage he was causing while they escaped.
His many eyes twitched.
Had that been a hiss? No, probably not.
Still, it may be a good time to alter direction again. Going only in a straight line was stupid, and he had only done so initially to gain enough range from their 'mother' so that future path obscuration attempts wouldn't be instantly seen through. Hopefully.
Although… This sudden and deep control of his new body did open up an option or two that wasn't possible before.
A tug and shift had his limbs lose sharp edges, the surface itself altering to be more absorbent and soft, while the impacts and frantic effort would be partially collected by the pink bones and pink plates that covered his temporary body.
It felt really odd, like a fat guy holding in his gut to show off for someone, but now his new path wasn't leaving behind claw marks and torn earth and crumbled rocks and such.
Shifting Crona and his body mass closer to the soil, the branches were easier to avoid without bending or breaking any, and with a stronger grasp over his own material Black Blood shouldn't leave behind any scents or drops anymore, not without resisting a vicious assault or something.
A new direction, hopefully no trail… It might help a bit. Hopefully.
Someone probably could still track the pair if they examined which regions were full of freaked out animals or whatever, but at least it wouldn't be a literal line leading that asshole of a mom straight towards them.
Still no river or stream, but that was still the best plan he could come up with. A way to abuse his unnatural form to the fullest to ensure a safe escape, hopefully.
Find a rapid flow of water, one that other people would assume he would follow or swim along to disrupt any trails… And then dig into the waterbed and hide Crona underground, under water, with no pursuers.
The Black Blood could easily provide the needed air and stuff, even before being empowered by this new energy source… And unlike hiding by digging some random hole HERE, the flowing water would cover up any additional signs or traces he missed.
Hopefully.
His white orbs with black crosses glared at the passing terrain with growing frustration.
After all, he had a plan and a good chance of pulling it off now that he could skitter close to the ground with nearly no clues left behind. Things were finally looking up, hopefully.
Now if only he could actually FIND some sort of water source!
Wasn't it a rule that every forest had a river or something!? Dang it!
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