Chapter Twenty-one: What Kind of Autograph is That?!
Anita ducked and ran as soon as the crashing started. Cape battles – or even regular non-parahuman gang battles – weren't common in Chattanooga, but listen, if there was even a chance of it, Anita was not going to be getting caught in it. You see, if she was caught in a dangerous situation, she would have to defend herself, and then she would be outed as a parahuman herself, which was just not in her life's goals.
Like, there wasn't much gang activity in the area, but she'd heard the statistics on independent and rogue parahumans, so she'd have to join the Protectorate.
No thank you!
Anyway, that was if her mother didn't kill her first.
So yeah, Anita was in hiding for most of the fight and didn't see much. The continued crashing and banging confirmed her suspicion of it
being a fight, so she did not emerge from hiding (in the bathroom of the first store she'd run into). When the sounds finally died down, she crept out cautiously, prepared to bolt at the first sign of danger. But in front of the big windows looking out into the rest of the mall, there was a crowd of people staring out.
Relaxing at the sign that it was safe, Anita made her way over, trying to get a peek out at whatever they were watching. There were even more people outside the store, making it hard to see.
Eventually, Anita gave up and walked out to get a look for herself. With a better angle, she was able to see that there were a number of people on the ground, and she froze, thinking that people had
died – but they didn't look especially injured, even the ones that were laying flat, hopefully just unconscious. There were a number of people who were sitting up, looking sulky.
The crowd was not, in fact, focused on those people, however, whoever they were – actually, Anita thought she recognized one as one of the local small-time villains – but rather seemed more interested in the lone man still standing.
"That was so cool!"
"Can I have your autograph?"
"How'd you do that?"
People clamored and talked over each other, fighting for attention. The man in the center of them didn't look overwhelmed, exactly, but perhaps somewhat bemused. He was probably a parahuman, though the half-mask on his face was mostly the only thing that indicated it. Well, and the giant gun at his waist which looked kind of like a sawed off shotgun, though it wasn't common for parahumans to use guns. That was still more likely than him being a regular civilian.
Anita didn't recognize him until somebody said his name, trying to get his attention.
"Azem!"
The man himself didn't react, like he wasn't used to going by that yet, but Anita's entire perspective shifted.
That was
Azem?
...Actually, he wasn't as impressive-looking as she'd expected. He just looked like a normal guy, albeit one with a gnarly looking gun. Not somebody who'd killed an Endbringer. She was kinda disappointed, honestly. He wasn't acting like somebody who'd killed an Endbringer, either, just letting himself be shouted at and jostled as what seemed like every nobody in the mall tried to get something from him.
It looked like Azem was handing out autographs willingly enough, though there was a pinched look on his face that Anita couldn't read and everyone else seemed to be ignoring. Something like puzzlement, maybe.
That would make sense, Anita decided as she caught a glimpse of one of the papers he'd 'signed,' which had gibberish on it in a vaguely Azem-like pattern. Maybe Azem just didn't know how autographs worked? Or possibly how to sign his name? Was he an alien, or did he just grow up under a rock?
None of the people walking away with Azem's sham 'autographs' seemed bothered. Anita supposed that as long as he didn't change his autograph style, even the gibberish counted as a legitimate autograph.
Just as Anita was preparing to slink away, uninterested in joining the throng of people just for the chance to get a scribble claiming to be Azem's name or a picture – especially considering how distasteful it was to do such a thing at the site of a battle anyway – the cops showed up. They had to muscle their way through the uncooperative crowd, who were treating the situation like they'd gone to a PR event rather than happening to catch a hero who just finished a fight. Anita couldn't help but roll her eyes. The cops spoke briefly with Azem, and then he nodded to them and turned to leave.
There was a unanimous cry of despair from the crowd as he stepped away from the place he'd been patiently indulging them for so long. Several people even dared try to grab hold of him, as though to physically keep him from moving; Anita applauded their bravery. Obviously, they never stood a chance, and Azem didn't even seem to notice the attempts.
There was a flash of light bright enough that even Anita, halfway across the grand plaza, winced. The people nearest to Azem yelped and shouted and covered their eyes. When the light cleared, Azem was dressed in completely different clothes, which for some reason consisted of purple pants, a black-and-purple jacket, and a trailing black scarf. Anita blinked. There was probably a reasonable explanation – probably – but her first thought, entirely despite herself, was:
A magical girl transformation?
Azem pulled two long daggers from his waist, which no longer held the gun. Everybody who'd been trailing after him backed away, but Azem didn't threaten them. He just lifted his daggers up in front of his face, elbows out, and then vanished.
Literally.
He was just
gone. Anita looked around, wondering if he'd performed a short-range teleportation or something, but he was nowhere to be seen. The entire crowd, based on the confused, affronted murmurs and shouts, agreed. Maybe a
long-range teleportation? That was the only thing that made sense, right?
But how come no one had ever mentioned Azem being able to do
that before!?
More and more often, the man going by 'Azem' in this world – regardless of whether he truly deserved the moniker – found himself being approached by strangers. Crowds of strangers, who didn't seem content to leave him alone until they'd all individually gotten the chance to talk to him, take one of their 'pictures' with him, or get his 'autograph.' Sometimes all of the above.
Azem didn't mind, exactly. He liked people well enough, and they were usually friendly. But it was starting to get in the way. He couldn't seem to get more than one thing done before getting sidetracked for up to a bell – or 'hour' as people here called them – longer than necessary. It was getting to the point where he had to use the skills honed as a Rogue and then as a Ninja and literally 'hide' just to get away from these people.
Otherwise, even if he just tried to walk away, they would
follow him, which was just going to cause trouble, if they didn't get seriously injured the next time he incidentally encountered a serious threat like the Slaughterhouse Nine.
He was used to being famous. He was used to most people he encountered recognizing him as the Warrior of Light or Darkness or the Eikon-slayer or the Champion of Eorzea or what have you.
He just wasn't used to them acting like
this about it.
If there was one saving grace, it was that people generally didn't seem inclined to notice him unless he was doing something particularly noteworthy – normally fighting. That was the most noteworthy thing about him, most would agree.
So it was that Azem was walking down the sidewalk mostly unhindered, amongst a crowd of people who hadn't yet realized he was their 'Endbringer-slayer.' Some titles he couldn't seem to get away from.
Out of nowhere, he was thrust into a vision, and he stumbled to a halt. So swiftly he would have had trouble keeping up had he not been practiced in doing so, he was shown a sequence of events: a girl, a fight, a – person?
Pain. Ow. Azem snapped back to himself with a choked, nearly-silent gasp. The future-visions were occasionally unpleasantly detailed.
Azem had never mentioned this type of vision to anyone. He didn't know of anyone else for sure who had them (except for his alternate selves, who obviously didn't count). Those with the Echo receiving visions of others' pasts was well-documented, or so he'd been told, but Mikoto was the only person he'd met who mentioned getting Echo visions of the
future, and unlike her, Azem was capable of changing the future he saw. Sometimes he thought that was the point.
He thought Ardbert and his fellow Warriors of Light from the First might have had the same future-visions as Azem – they'd certainly shown the signs of having knowledge of the future, namely the last-second saves – but he'd never asked when he had the chance.
If he thought about it hard enough, he felt like he
knew they had, like Ardbert must have known, but he generally preferred not to think too hard on the things he might know that Ardbert had known.
Sometimes, Azem wondered what the others would think of all of his miraculous victories if they knew he didn't come out victorious on the 'first try' – if they knew the, occasionally many, times he'd gotten memories of his failures, adjusted, and tried again. It didn't matter, really, as long as he continued winning in the end.
It was the same with this fight. He'd gotten the memories of one failure; it seemed either he succeeded this time, or no more memories of the future would be forthcoming.
Swiftly, Azem ducked into a side alley. The girl they'd sent out looking for him would be nearby, and once she saw him, he would have no choice but to head into the encounter. He wanted to process what he'd seen first.
It was a group of people claiming the Simurgh as their god. "The Hopekiller," they'd called her. An interesting title. Azem couldn't wait until his alternate selves learned of
that name. The Endsinger comparisons would be undeniable. Though it wasn't a particularly fitting title. As one of the others had pointed out, the Simurgh fell quite short of the Endsinger's fearsomeness, and even the Endsinger hadn't been able to kill hope itself. In fact, the Endsinger being the embodiment of despair, hope had been her greatest weakness, in the end.
The Simurgh was no embodiment of despair, showcasing pretty typical abilities for a primal, but Azem supposed the people of this world had different standards.
Things made more sense now that Azem knew there
was a group of worshippers of the Simurgh. He had wondered what the Endbringers were, if not primals, but it seemed they were, at the very least, something similar to primals. Though, the people of this world didn't seem to know how summoning worked; fair enough, seeing as this world
did seem to have an incredible lack of crystals to use for the purpose.
The singular crystal he'd come across so far, the one that he'd gotten from the Simurgh and subsequently spent crafting the Simurgh minion, wouldn't provide much as far as primal-summoning energy, either, though of course, most of her energy should have returned to the planet when she was destroyed. If this world followed the same rules as Etheirys, that was. It didn't seem to, but aetheric theory wasn't Azem's strong point. Perhaps he would mention it to the other Scions when he returned; how could a primal exist on a world without aether to form it?
It wasn't relevant at the moment. The Simurgh's worshippers, the Fallen, were after revenge. Unsurprising, though most of the beast tribes tended to back off after he killed their god. These ones seemed extra angry, possibly because resummoning their god wasn't a matter of simply collecting enough crystals.
As far as he could tell, there was no institutional discrimination against them that they were struggling against, so they were probably just criminals. That made it his responsibility to see that they were stopped.
Most of them wouldn't pose a problem. They had some strange magicks, and some things that were somewhat difficult to deal with, but nothing totally outside of his expectations. The only real problem was the person Azem hadn't been given a good look at in his vision, just the barest implication of their existence; the one who seemed to gain a greater ability to affect others based on the other's awareness of them. Or so Azem was assuming. It was a strange power, but many of the abilities and forms of magic in this world were strange.
Whatever the exact details of their ability, the fact remained that it would make them incredibly difficult to deal with short of killing them, and he'd been told not to kill people unless they were like the Slaughterhouse Nine, a category Azem wasn't sure how to determine.
But he wasn't sure he had any other choice. Even if putting them to sleep would work, Azem would need to see them to cast it, which would present a problem. Most of his spells and techniques required the same.
It was possible one of his egis could attack the person without
Azem ever having to see them, thus subverting the issue. But it would be especially difficult to subdue the person that way, and then what if they woke up? Like the Siberian, would they have to be kept unconscious? That wasn't feasible. But unlike the Siberian, this person
could be killed.
Well, it wouldn't be the first time Azem had killed someone without the approval of the country he was in. Either he would receive special consideration for previous actions, or he would have to find a different country to explore in this world.
Mind made up, Azem switched to his Summoner gear set, and stepped out to meet his future.
Elijah – no, Valefor – was waiting. The Fallen were waiting. They'd sent out one of their unpowered members, a sweet-looking teenage girl, to lure in their quarry, and she'd already sent in the notice that she'd found him.
They would arrive soon.
He would arrive soon. The murderer of the Simurgh.
Valefor wasn't nervous. He
wasn't, because they were prepared for this, even if Mama had said she hadn't expected Azem to show up
in their city. They still had the element of surprise, and they had Valefor, and Mama too, if necessary. It wouldn't be necessary. Valefor was strong.
...And so were the rest of their soldiers, he acknowledged reluctantly. Coronzon and Seir were powerful, and Bamet (along with Amaymon) was with Mama rather than on the front lines, but he'd sent several of his more combat-ready creatures with them. They had Savannah, as well, one of their more successful former-Ward recruits, though she likely wouldn't be
as useful. They outnumbered their enemy, and they had the element of surprise. Even if Azem had known where they were and had come in search of them, he had no way of knowing that this was their trap.
They weren't at the compound, that was too risky, but they were near it, in the city outskirts where there was nothing but old, abandoned buildings. Valefor couldn't see the others, they were in hiding and so was he, but he could hear Bamet's creatures making noises, whines and growls.
There were probably words mixed in, but those were too quiet for him to make out. Occasionally, Seir would snap at them to quiet down, and that was probably the loudest of all. If Valefor could see them, he would tell them
all to be quiet.
All he could do was hope they didn't give them away.
Finally, between his own breaths, loud in the silence, Valefor heard footsteps. Startling to attention, he peered around the corner of the building he was lurking in the shadow of, just in time to see their bait round her own corner. She didn't make it far, however, before stopping and turning. Before she'd even turned completely, however, she collapsed, deathly still.
What? Was she dead? Had Azem killed her?
Mama hadn't said anything about this being part of the plan. The thought of her, in the rush of Valefor's panic at the realization that Azem was going off-script – did he
know – caught Mama's attention, and her presence at the back of Valefor's mind strengthened. He knew she was watching from his eyes as he rushed out of the alley he'd been tucked in, hoping to catch even a glimpse of Azem himself.
A massive winged beast sailed around the corner from Azem's direction, rocketing down the street in Valefor's direction. He ducked automatically, but the beast passed him by, well above his head. Even so, just the wind from its passage sent his long hair whipping around his face.
Bamet's creatures burst out of a nearby building, letting out the shrieking howls in almost-human voices that were typical of them. Seir was just behind them, and with a roaring noise like a waterfall or a stampede, he released a dozen of his shadowy tendrils, and they streaked across the road. Glowing blasts of energy from where Azem must have been, where Valefor couldn't see, knocked half of them out of the air, but the remaining ones impacted walls and took their eerie imitation forms.
Together with Bamet's creatures, the Seir clones converged on Azem's location.
Gritting his teeth, Valefor kept running. If he could just
see Azem – what was Seir planning on doing, anyway? Even his clones were baseline human. They did make for a reasonable distraction, at least, Valefor supposed.
When Valefor rounded the corner, dashing past the body of their bait, he couldn't even see Azem, who was totally hidden behind the grotesque forms of Bamet's creatures and Seir's clones. Azem must have been retreating, on the back foot under the assault, because he was twenty feet down the road, not right at the corner like he'd presumably started out.
Azem shot one of his energy blasts at one of Bamet's creatures, and it fell with a yowling cry of pain that almost sounded like a human
ow! Then Valefor caught the barest glimpse of a trailing coat as Azem ducked behind a building, followed by the rest of Bamet's creatures and a few of Seir's clones – which had already been reduced in number from six to four. Seir was just ahead of Valefor, and he wound up for another blast, aiming for the roof of the building Azem was next to, presumably allowing his next batch of clones to drop directly on Azem's head.
Valefor had no choice but to keep chasing after them.
Three steps around the corner, however, there was an explosion in the distance, and Mama's presence, curled around Valefor's mind, vanished. It vanished
completely.
Mama? he thought immediately, startled and worried.
He couldn't remember a time when he
hadn't had her there at the back of his mind, just passively present if not actively so. It used to bother him, but it was something he'd gotten used to. Why would she suddenly leave? It didn't make sense... unless Azem had known where she was. Unless the massive flying beast Valefor had seen, which wasn't one of Bamet's, had been sent after Mama by Azem.
Valefor turned and ran in the direction the winged beast had gone.
Mama!? Mama! he called. He didn't need to do it out loud for her to hear him.
But she didn't respond.
As soon as Valefor was getting close, it was obvious which building the explosion had gone off in. It was half-collapsed, the front crumbled in on itself like a truck had driven through it. Or a truck-sized monster. Valefor picked his way through the rubble as quickly as he could without knocking more of the building down on himself.
And inside...
was Mama.
She was barely recognizable, lying there on the floor, badly burned. Practically half-charred, like that time they'd left a pig cooking in a fire pit for too long. If there had been an explosion in the room, Mama must have been at the center of it.
"Mama!" Valefor cried, rushing over to her.
He dropped to his knees beside her, heedless of the dust and ash that would probably stain the white fabric of his pants. Hands fluttering uselessly, Valefor stared down at Mama. She was clearly dead. He wasn't sure how to react. How to feel.
Mama couldn't die. She was
Mama. She was their leader. She was too strong to die. Too important.
Like the Simurgh?
It seemed Azem had a habit of killing the unkillable.
Valefor gritted his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut. "That
bastard!" he hissed, and stood.
Less focused on Mama, this time he noted that Bamet and Amaymon were also collapsed on the floor nearby, on either side of Mama. They'd clearly been caught in the blast as well, though they appeared to be alive for the moment.
Valefor walked away. Azem was their priority. Later, they could get medical attention for Bamet and Amaymon.
Leaving the building, it wasn't hard to track down the fight – Coronzon must have finished powering up and joined in, and fights with him were always
loud. Bamet's creatures weren't quiet either. Valefor jogged in the direction of the sounds of destruction and the roars.
By the time Valefor arrived at the site of the battle, Coronzon was the last one fighting, a massive monster snapping and slashing at Azem's much smaller form – who Valefor still couldn't quite see behind Coronzon's bulk.
Seir and Bamet's creatures were nowhere to be seen, and Savannah, who had been with Coronzon, was nearby, kneeling on the sidewalk a safe distance from the battle, panting and clasping her side. At that very moment, Valefor honestly didn't care if she was injured. He used his power on her.
"Get up!" he ordered, and she stood. "Do
everything you can to kill Azem. Try not to hit Coronzon."
Savannah moved to obey, lifting off to search for a good angle from which to fire at Azem. She was a mid-tier Blaster, but her firepower wasn't bad. She should serve as decent backup for Coronzon.
Meanwhile, Valefor began circling, trying to get even a single look at Azem – this was becoming deeply frustrating. This was why he preferred to work alone. Then he didn't have to worry about his own allies
getting in his way. Or potentially being caught in the crossfire and injured by his own allies; Coronzon wouldn't deliberately hurt Valefor – he wouldn't dare – but he was a messy, chaotic fighter. Valefor kept a cautious distance away not because he was worried about being attacked by Azem, but because he was worried that Coronzon would
accidentally hit him.
Yet without getting closer, it seemed that no matter what he did, Azem stayed on the other side of Coronzon from him. Valefor circled, and so did Azem, keeping Coronzon in the middle, an unknowing accomplice.
Savannah, with her bird's eye view, was able to fire off a few shots at Azem, but that only lasted a few minutes before she was plummeting out of the sky with no explanation, just like their bait had before. She landed hard, with the kind of crunching noise that meant something had broken, and screamed.
Not dead, then. Interesting. Still, the pain must have snapped her out of Valefor's hypnosis, because she lifted into the air long enough to launch herself out of the danger zone to somewhere she wouldn't be stepped on, then passed out.
Valefor clicked his tongue. Useless. He couldn't hypnotize an unconscious person.
Which left just Valefor and Coronzon. He still didn't know what had happened to Seir, but if he was alive, it was probably best that he was outside of Coronzon's battle radius. For such a disciplined man, Coronzon's fighting style certainly was disorderly.
It didn't seem to be very effective, though. Coronzon was holding his own well in what was effectively a solo fight because Valefor couldn't seem to
do anything, but he wasn't winning.
Impatient and irritated, Valefor was just considering doing something ill-advised, like using his power on Coronzon and
making him get out of his way, when it seemed that Azem also got tired of the fight. The massive winged beast from before appeared in a burst of light, big and ostentatious enough that Valefor could see it even on the other side of Coronzon. Then, with little fanfare, a pillar of light as big as Coronzon's Changer form came out of nowhere in an eruption of searing light.
When it died down, large swathes of Coronzon were simply gone.
If that had been what hit Mama, some distant part of Valefor noted, it was surprising anything was left of her.
It destroyed enough of Coronzon's Changer form to force him to change back, which wasn't good, but Valefor watched eagerly, expecting to catch a glimpse of Azem now that Coronzon wasn't blocking his entire field of view.
...Except yet again, Azem was nowhere to be seen.
There was an alley behind where Azem must have been standing, and it looked like there was a corner where you could turn and get behind the buildings. Valefor knew how much Azem liked corners.
He dashed forward, passing by where Coronzon was trying to get to his feet, and kept running until he hit the split in the alley. Behind him, he heard Coronzon start charging up his power. Azem wasn't visible down either path, and Valefor hesitated. Where did Azem go? Why would he run?
A wave of exhaustion hit Valefor, and he staggered in place.
Within a heartbeat, Valefor's eyes drooped, and he remembered what had happened to both their bait and Savannah – he'd thought Azem had killed the first one, but some kind of sleep inducement made sense.
But like
hell Valefor was going to fall to a cheap trick like that.
He was a Master, and a stronger one than that.
A rush of angry, hateful adrenaline woke him up enough to straighten up, and he whipped around on instinct. Azem was standing behind him, in plain view for the first time. Triumphantly, he used his power on Azem, but too late; a second wave of exhaustion hit, and this time Valefor couldn't keep his eyes open.
Everything went dark.
In the same moment that Azem finished casting Sleep for the
second time on the kid with the irritating sight-based magick (and apparently a rather impressive level of resistance to Sleep), the kid turned around and used said irritating sight-based magick on him, then collapsed under the weight of
two Sleep spells. Azem was left standing still, mind drifting vaguely.
Sharp pain on his ankle jolted him out of it, and he jerked away on instinct, then looked down to find Carbuncle looking up at him innocently, face so cute he could almost believe she hadn't just
bitten him. Carbuncle teeth were surprisingly sharp. Azem nodded at her approvingly, though she was little more than an extension of his will and not
truly an animal. He turned back towards where his other foe had been – the tall man with white-striped black hair who could turn into a giant beast that looked like some combination of a behemoth and the Myath Azem had encountered passing through Sohm Al the first time.
He'd relinquished his other form after being severely injured, but apparently was not yet out of the fight. Where he'd been, there was now a swirling mass of darkness floating in the air. It looked like an Ascian portal, but the way it hung there without fading out of existence within a few moments reminded Azem of Nabriales' portal when he'd kidnapped Minfilia – which had lasted long enough for Azem to jump through after them, unlike most Ascian portals.
Azem wasn't sure if this was something similar. Was he supposed to go through? It was possible the man would get away if Azem didn't follow.
On the other hand, there were no Ascians left, much less any in this world, and it wasn't
quite the same as a portal.
Well. Jumping in was a bit of a last resort. First, Azem summoned Garuda-Egi, ordering it to execute Aerial Blast. The egi whipped the wind around the portal into a deadly tornado of slicing blades, and the portal let out a shout of pain and dissipated to reveal the man from before, who collapsed onto the ground, covered in bloody cuts.
Oops.
The man struggled to get back to his feet, and Azem cast Sleep on him before it could become apparent whether or not he was still in fighting shape. The man slumped back to the ground. He was bleeding quite a bit, so Azem switched to White Mage quickly and cast a Cure, which would probably be enough to keep the man from bleeding out.
Then Azem looked around at his sleeping foes and the destruction their battle had wrought. Normally the local authorities would be showing up by now. Azem had never had to call their attention himself.
Fortunately, the first person he'd met in this world, who hadn't tried to kill him, had taught him what to do in an emergency. Azem pulled out the communication device – phone – he'd been given by Sergeant Levens, and did as Riley had shown him. Carefully, he entered the three numbers she'd taught him: 911.
