Chapter 950 (1/2)

As Randidly dropped toward the ground, Mrs. Hamilton continued to weave a web of razor-sharp wires around the spot where he would land. She was somewhat nervous witnessing his strange monstrous image take over his body, but even so, he was bound by Beryl’s Isolate. This was the best chance for them to strike, and Mrs. Hamilton wouldn’t let a chance of this magnitude slip through her fingers.

Even without any more aces up her sleeve, she could-

With heavy footsteps, Alana moved to stand beside Mrs. Hamilton. For several seconds, she was silent. Then she grinned and looked at the slowly falling form of Randidly Ghosthound in his new form. “You know… sometimes I wonder who tricked who with this fight…”

Mrs. Hamilton looked up sharply. “You think we will lose? That this form of his means he has broken out of Beryl’s Skill?”

“No, he’s still trapped,” Alana replied, almost helplessly. “But… yes, I think we will lose. You probably can’t feel it. Your understanding of images is still growing. Instead of working at it, you’ve been orchestrating every twist of this fight.

“But after being submerged in Helen’s image for so long… I can feel it. How something about him just changed. All this time, Randidly still saw us as Donnyton. The Donnyton he founded and nurtured. Perhaps unconsciously… he held back. Or his most dangerous instincts were sleeping. But now you took away that sight. His limiter was removed. All he sees now are enemies.”

For several seconds, Mrs. Hamilton considered Alana. Perhaps forcing her to the task of wearing down Helen was more mentally exhausting than Mrs. Hamilton had anticipated. Finally, Mrs. Hamilton spoke to the other woman in a rather dry tone to try and draw her back to concrete issues. “...you know he can’t see anything at all, right?”

“Is that so?” The corner of Alana’s mouth twisted upward. Then a wave of orange light exploded outward from her. Impossibly bright silver armor condensed around her body, illuminating the surrounding area. The wings on her helmet grew longer and more lifelike until they were beating softly over the two women’s heads and producing dozens of pearly feathers that fluttered down around them.

Before Mrs. Hamilton could even process the fact that Alana had been able to successfully manifest an image, another change dragged her attention sharply upward: the head of the monster version of Randidly snapped downward, locking onto Alana’s position. Even as he fell, his gaze remained fixed upon her.

“He can feel the image,” Alana said softly. “You can cut out everything else… but the power of the human spirit can invent things that aren’t even there. It’s magical, really.”

Narrowing her eyes, Mrs. Hamilton considered how to reply to this. Ultimately, however, she let the implicit criticism in Alana’s tone pass so she could focus on the positive. “You created an image. Excellent. While I distract him, you need to-”

“I understand why you are still missing it, so I’ll say it bluntly: you don’t have the capability to interfere in this last part of the fight. His kid gloves are off. If you attempt to interfere…” The incandescent valkyrie turned and regarded Mrs. Hamilton steadily. “...I will not be able to protect you.”

As Mrs. Hamilton froze, Alana continued to speak.

“I do not believe in fate or destiny. But I think part of what Randidly was trying to tell us was that images become a self-fulfilling prophecy: once they exist, they spread themselves endlessly and warp the world. Once he made this challenge about images, all of us would move toward that end… even if we struggled to avoid it.”

That finally shattered Mrs. Hamilton’s shock and gave her something to hold onto. “Great as he is, I believe we both know that Randidly Ghosthound doesn’t have the patience or the interest in manipulating such a large scale event to such a fine degree. He had no plan.”

Sighing, Alana turned back toward the accelerating monster. “Of course he didn’t mean to do it. But what he was showing was that images infect everything; they speak with a universal language that we implicitly understand. They move through lines of emotion, culture, and symbology to exist. By seeing them, we are shaped. Which shapes the world, which shapes the image. We step into an endless cycle. Without owning and understanding our own image we propagate… we are destined to be victims.”

Mrs. Hamilton just looked at Alana. “This is surprisingly philosophical stuff, coming from you.”

”I had a lot of time to think, wasting time with Helen for so long.” Alana scratched her head. “Ah, hell, it’s hard to put into words. I’ll just say this: I think that there were a lot of lessons in this fight. You learned that tricks and shadow plays sometimes weren’t enough. Donny learned that he cannot protect everyone. The Cortez siblings probably learned how far they really are from being able to stand at the pinnacle of Donnyton. I bet their confidence will be shaken by how casually they were knocked out.

“Clarissa saw some hope of her dream of utilizing the elements. Decklan saw that Randidly could truly bleed, just like the rest of us. Paolo and Kayle both learned that the other isn’t invincible.”

“And you?” Mrs. Hamilton asked.

“This, obviously.” Alana gestured at herself in her brilliant splendor. “Which is the strangest of all; I could not have formed this image without spending so much time under the pressure of Helen’s Domain. Was it inevitable that I fight against her this whole time to maintain my strength?”

Then she shook her head. “Or is this just me wishing to be have been chosen, and that this all was just a roll of the dice? Either way, please step back. Take Beryl with you.”

“But his Skill-”

Alana’s eyes were a brilliant tangerine as she fixed Mrs. Hamilton with a sharp stare. “This isn’t your fight. The time limit of the Isolate Skill won’t become relevant. I doubt… this will last longer than a single clash. Two at most.”

Mrs. Hamilton wanted to say no. She wanted to deny what Alana was saying was true. But also, Mrs. Hamilton was tired and running low of Stamina and Mana. The ground beneath her feet was cracked in pitted. And the brave young man she had sought to protect for so long had already on this day been betrayed and now fell from the sky wearing a guise of a monster.

It was a mask they had given him. A mask of envy and awe and isolation.

Sometimes, it’s okay to feel old, Mrs. Hamilton thought sadly. Then she turned away from the fight and used her wires to pull away the remaining wounded from the fractured arena.

*****

When Randidly hit the ground, the arena proper collapsed into a pile of pale rubble. It also set off a chain reaction on the island in the middle of the quarry, sending bits of stone tumbling into the water. Alana stumbled from the impact, righting herself almost instantly as she prepared for his attack. But he hadn’t moved.

The dust cleared and revealed him standing on a platform of densely woven roots amongst the fractured arena. Even as the ground continued to shudder and give way, Randidly simply looked over at her. The monstrous black hole that functioned as his mouth curved into an arc.

Weak.

His monstrous gaze made his reaction to her clear. And it was an accusation that Alana couldn’t deny after today. Now that she had felt the edge of what an image was, she could sense the depth of time and emotion that Randidly had put into refining this monster he now displayed. How he managed to move through his daily life without breaking under this weight was beyond Alana.

In addition, Alana admitted that it was also true that the brilliant image she was currently displaying wasn’t truly hers; much of the emotional weight she wielded to craft her shimmering armor and her wings were borrowed from Donnyton’s sorrow. Tens of thousands of individuals had clasped their hands tight and wished for Donnyton’s victory. That was the blade she now wielded.

Even as the watchers fled, they sent her their hopes and prayers.