Omake 1a: Non-canon What-if
Part 1: Emerald Empress Burns the Board Clear
Taylor panted, waiting for the itch of the new flesh billowing from her severed arm to settle into its proper shape as her limb grew back into place. Gradually, the hissing sizzle of the acidic ichor which flowed from the wound dribbled to a stop as new skin regrew over returning muscle and sinew. Turning to face the direction of the strike which cut her arm cleanly off, she gritted her teeth. "I know you're over there, Jack! I WILL FIND YOU. SHOW YOURSELF!" As she screamed out the last sentence, emerald embers curled up from her eyes and mouth, as though the inside of her body was a roaring green furnace that had been stoked to a snarling burn. As the fires flowed up from her maw, they curled into the outline of a veridian crown, adorned with a jet eye, whose burning iris was emerald carved into the shape of a flame. On hearing the command, much to his own self-evident surprise, the tall, toned man stepped around a nearby blood-fountain, revealing his position inside the charnel house that had once been a small town's public square.
"Now this is a wonderful twist on things." He offered a mocking bow, his long jacket trailing back as he swept back to a standing position. A knife, the knife, the one she'd taken from Oni Lee on her first night as an Exalt, the one Jack Slash had used to slit her father's throat, twirled between his fingers, spinning in a deliberate taunt while his other hand rested against his fit, well-toned abs. "I knew when I nominated you that you'd pass the others' tests with flying colors. And it's looking like you've found me, so I suppose that means you pass mine." He begins to sketch another rakish bow, freezing in place as the young woman again screamed out a command.
"SHUT UP AND DROP THE KNIFE!" Startlement twitches into a moment's anger, before his insouciant smirk returns full force, and he cuts her throat clean through, severing tendons in her legs and arms with another four sweeps of the blade he'd hidden in his waistband. The girl before him gasps and gargles through her gore-gushing throat. Jack feels a moment's irritation. He'd gone to such effort to make a perfect mirror of the scene where she'd watched her father die. He'd even intended to use the same knife for a better ironic parallel.
Ah well. Everyone's a critic, he mused as he stepped forward to whisper in the girl's ear, picking up the intended knife as he went. He kept well back from the poisonous blood/acid/ichor which had sprayed so liberally from her. Bonesaw had had a field day fixing the last time one of the Nine had been sprayed by the stuff. It was, in many ways, worse than Crawler's own acids. Leaning in, he continued to rake new wounds into her, knowing that it took shredding her body before she showed any sign of slowing. "Such a shame Daddy dearest never survived to see this. I think it would've shredded his heart harder than Siberian did after I gave her his corpse, watching what you became. Even more, watching you die. He might even have been glad, seeing the monster I made of you put down." And with that last syllable, he hacked once, twice, three times with the designated blade's extended edge, all-but decapitating the distressing damsel. Dropping the acid-etched edge behind him, he began to saunter away, Now where exactly had Bonesaw and the Siberian gotten to? The Hebert girl would've made a good protege, but he couldn't have someone who undermined his authority over the Nine. Pity, that; her abilities were almost as varied as Eidolon's.
Jack stumbled, catching himself with both hands as the ground buckled beneath him. He looked up to see fissures spreading throughout the small city, glowing with sickly green and bloody red light. Following the trail of cracks, he saw the Hebert girl's mostly-severed neck regrowing itself back into place as she'd dropped to one knee and begun to fall. Catching herself, she stood, that eye-smiting white light she radiated roaring into the ginsu-crab shape it did when she really pushed herself. That clever minx! She was holding out on me. A wicked smile slanted his pretty lips. Then again, I was doing the same. It really is a pity that last new trick means I have to kill her.
Lettering in some hieroglyphic pattern banded about her breasts, as glowing white torcs about her biceps, and about her head in a glorious and radiant crown. Her eyes glowed white and green, burning spotlights of all the hatred the world had ever seen. Drawing a spare knife he sent a slash in at her, only for it to do less than nothing. It was like trying to cut the Siberian. Scowling, he whipped his ace out of his sleeve, the weapon Mannequin had taken from Armsmaster so long ago. Extending its nanothorn edge to carve gaping slashes into the ground and buildings behind her...only to find her uncut, not so much as scratched by the matter-annihilating blade. He felt an icy edge of fear, so long since gone from his life, scrape over his spine in a cold caress.
ooo
As an aside, if we were doing Abyssal!Taylor quest, her title would totally be The Conqueror Worm.
As another aside, having met the man before, I can't help but picture Jack Slash as looking and sounding just like Aurelio Voltaire. It miiight be why I always picture him wearing fabulous shoes, too.
