Chapter Text
Elio had given him a new script.
As Blade wakes up from that soft, delightfully suffocating dream once more, Kafka waves his phone at him.
"This time, Elio said that it would account for that unexpected variable." She smiles, as if knowing something he does not know. The immortal combs his hair back, ignoring the fact that Kafka had entered his room just to wake him up for this news. It had to be important enough, at least for her amusement, but…an unexpected variable?
He taps at his phone screen.
A dozen or more missed notifications had flooded in, and he took note that it came from none other than…Childe.
Opening up the texts, he scrolls through the countless pictures and messages that the ginger had sent him. Pictures of himself and some structure in the background, or standing over the corpse of his most recent kill.
A few dragon shaped creatures were scattered about, alongside others in what appeared to be the aftermath of a slaughter, within a land besieged by war. With it was attached a caption, explaining what this 'Abyss' was, and how it corrupted living beings and took their form after death, and how he had been tasked with killing it.
What Kafka had mentioned about Elio slips from his mind, as he traces his fingers through the different messages, of which some offhandedly asked him for tips on how to mend a blade that had cracks within it. Others proudly showcased his own handicraft for some handwoven item, or some alcoholic beverage adorned with flowers.
Blade was not one to look at his messages, or remember what others had done. For Childe however, this was where he found himself willing to read through his exploits and adventures, because the other had made the effort to get to know him, and update him on his life.
A part of him yearns to return to his side.
To spar with him once more, to run his blade against Foul Legacy's claws, to feel cold hands against his own warm, feverish palms- To behold Childe in the flesh.
It is a feeling he does not quite recognise. Neither entirely foreign, yet not familiar to him as well. Perhaps his past self had once felt the same for another, but he was no longer his past self, and had stepped forward to the future under the name of Blade.
He combs a hand through his hair.
Reminding himself of getting around to responding to the ginger's messages, he finds the script that Elio had sent him, and opens it up.
-
The shape of the shore had changed.
It is now a shore filled with jagged, sharp rocks, ones that point towards the sky, of which that lightless sun overhead had drawn its eye shut, casting the world into a hallowed, violet-crimson glow. Black rock glints in the scattered rays of light, an ominous depth unlike what it used to be.
It is a light that reminds him of the Abundance, of the own fever in his heart, the one he could not quell alone.
He stands, watching the waves crash against misshapen rocks, as seawater breaks and scatters like fine mist, landing on his bare skin. It clings to him, refusing to let go and fall to the ground as a liquid should.
Waiting would do him no good here. Not when he himself wanted to seek out the other, to hear his voice, to watch his ginger hair sway in the sea breeze, regardless of how harsh or gentle it would be.
Along the shore he walks, the stench of something foul hits him like a wave.
Dried blood that stains the white sand, glistening against blackened rock, no, the rocks had been dyed black with the blood that coated its surface. Seawater could not wash it away, could not devour and erase it.
It smells of death, of a potent poison used to deliver suffering to its victim. Sharp, foul, acrid, and so bitter that he could taste it on his own tongue.
It is a power that, as he understands, is capable of tearing another from inside out.
His footsteps take on a brisk pace, as he scans through the mound of gore and broken flesh and scales that are scattered across the beach. Something had torn its way out from the water, of which now hummed and brought forth with it an oozing taint that stained the sand.
It mixes with blood, diluting seawater, a madness that this world could not comprehend. One that he should not either, lest it take a fragment of his accursed immortality and acquire it as its own.
A familiar figure stands, just ahead of him.
"...Childe? This is-"
It turns to face him.
There is something wrong. As violet streaks, not that of the shimmering radiance of starless ether, seemed to have taken itself upon Childe's being, a miasma that conquered flesh and seeded itself deep within his being. Even so-
"Stay away."
Childe was fighting. Against this parasitic entity that clung to his soul, one that desired to conquer the other.
How could he?
He draws his own Shard Sword, even when he knows that he cannot fight a threat like this.
A hand is held out, a signal for him to stay where he stood.
Childe takes in a heavy, shaky breath.
"Stay away, Blade. I'll take care of this, but until then, you cannot stay here. Wake up, do anything apart from falling asleep for the next few nights."
Childe was in danger. Someone as strong as him, as capable, was being pushed to his limits, and it was a danger so potent that it reflected within this shared mindscape between them both.
"Sorry you had to see me like this…but I promise you that things will be right as rain the next time we meet."
With a pained smile, Childe looks at him, and snaps his fingers.
The dream is broken.
-
Silverwolf does a double take when she passes by the training room.
"...Dude, it's like…way past the time you're usually asleep." She gestures to his room.
"Also, you literally haven't slept in like two nights?"
The training dummies have long since been carved up into nothing but flecks of metal across the ground. The punching bags, even with its regenerative self healing material, had been shredded until it couldn't even mend itself together.
Blade barely acknowledges her presence. He is lost in his own world, the mire of his thoughts, as much as he sought to drown out all those possibilities which swarmed in his mind by busying himself.
"Blade!" Someone is calling him, but he barely registers it.
All he can think about is how Childe made him promise not to sleep, and the state the other had been in. The Voracity was its own form of abundance, one that should not have allowed him to be scarred and wounded as he had been. The madness of the Narwhal should not have been so easily breached, by whatever it was that had seeped into Childe and his shared mindscape, which only showed how powerful the threat was.
He has been far too restless for the last two days.
Between the revelation of Elio's script, and now this new development…
A flash of light interrupts him.
Silverwolf stands slightly to his side, avoiding the reach of the Shard Sword in his grasp, as she points at him with her finger. "-de! Seriously, what has you so worked up to this point? You should talk about it instead of wrecking all of the training equipment."
He sheathes his blade, or at least returns it to his inventory. Looking around the room, he finds that he has indeed rendered most of the training materials unusable, as the younger girl stares at him with something incredulous in her gaze.
She gestures for him to follow her. "I'm gonna be making some cup noodles, you want some?" Silverwolf counted herself lucky that the immortal wasn't lost in one of his bouts of mara, though it hadn't flared up in some time ever since the Xianzhou Luofu and the funny alien guy from a non-existent planet.
Half expecting him to ignore her, Silverwolf already had a sigh on the tip of her tongue. The sound of footsteps behind her is surprising, as she makes her way over to the kitchen and grabs three cups. Two for herself and one for her companion.
Preparing it is a piece of cake, as she takes a spare towel and tosses it over to him to clean off. Blade accepts it with a low grunt, as he towels himself clean. He'd still need a shower after that, as well as sleep and rest, but this was progress.
The noodles are prepared fast enough, as she hands one cup over to him.
"...So…mind telling me what's up? Kafka's been away on a mission and Firefly's in her cryosleep conserving her energy, so it's just me here to be your therapist," She says, as crimson eyes flicker over to hers.
"I have been agitated and restless the past two days."
Two days? That was when….Elio sent in his new script.
"What was the trigger? Was it Elio's new script? What could be so bad that it has you like this?" She slurps down on her noodles. Blade picks up his chopsticks as he slowly begins to eat his own food as well.
It is strange to see him so calm after what was two consecutive days in the training room venting (presumably), but it had to have worked to get some of that agitation out of him. Kafka had informed her that he had been sleeping better because of his dream-walking thing with the Voracity emanator, but for him to not be sleeping meant that there was something off about the situation.
"Their script is one matter, but it is not the root cause." He pauses, looking down at his chopsticks. "I was told not to sleep, and I have reason to follow through with this warning."
Huh? Did…Childe tell him not to sleep? She didn't know what the specifics of their connection was, but it sure as hell was something she'd find in those online forums or light novels churned out by those hardcore fans of any pair of male leads.
"He hasn't mentioned anything since then?"
"He warned me only for my safety, but I am uncertain of what is happening to him."
Oh. So Blade was worried. Blade was worried?
My, the two of them really were going to be a thing if they weren't already a thing. Silverwolf brings up her screens, as she taps to access the chat between Blade and his companion. It seemed that Childe hadn't said much since he last sent a message, but to her surprise she saw that Blade had indeed responded to a few of his messages.
She moves onto her second cup,"...so you don't know what to do now? Or whether he's okay or not? But considering his status as an emanator of Voracity, much like your…Planarcadian contact, he should be able to take down whatever's hurting him in like no time. Plus, there's also time dilation between our side and his." It would be difficult to tell if Childe managed to resolve the crisis on his end.
Which left Blade stranded in the middle of staying up and pulling all-nighters or risking whatever it was that the ginger had told him to beware of.
"That is where the dilemma lies. I will stay awake for as long as I can, perhaps wait out another week or so, and hope that he manages to cleanse himself of the parasite that clung to him." Blade closes his eyes, even if he can sense some of the tiredness creeping up on him.
Staying up late had no physical repercussions on him, only the mental strain of staying awake. If Kafka were present, her Spirit Whisper would aid him in staying up, but she was away on a two week long mission and had only departed two days prior.
He resigned himself to this state. It mattered little to him, but he was more concerned about what was happening to Childe.
-
It is the thirteenth night which he manages to hold out to, at least until Kafka had returned from her mission and finally had a few words to say on the situation he faced.
"Oh dear, that sounds like a difficult situation for that man." She beckons him to lie down in his bed, as Blade allows himself to finally sink into the sheets after days of avoiding his bed lest he give into that slumber.
"...the place he hails from, it has its own poison. I could not risk it, and he warned me to stay away." It is a deep instinct that stirs within him, the flesh of the Abundance Emanator embedded deep within his current existence, that roused when he had taken a few steps within that dreamscape.
That thing known as the 'Abyss' had infected or poisoned Childe, an Emanator of Voracity, and even through this strange link it had managed to taste the scent of Shuhu within his being.
For someone hailing from a planet that even the Genius Society could not locate, the 'Abyss' was a danger that they could not overlook.
Blade wonders if Elio had already begun including and studying it from the knowledge of its existence.
It was a potent entity that Childe had to face alone in that moment, and he had warned him to stay away for his own safety, because Childe too also suspected that it would be dangerous for him if he had been allowed to meet it. He does not know what to do with the restlessness that comes with thinking about Childe, the uncertainty of the situation as a whole, and how long he should hold out for.
Sleep was a means for him to reset his thoughts and seal the wounds of his consciousness and hold the mara back at bay, with its effects made infinitely more effective ever since he began to wade that oceanic dreamscape that Childe granted to him.
"He told you that he would have everything settled by the next time you would meet?" Kafka murmurs softly, as she sits on the edge of his bed, reassuring warmth pressed up against his side.
"He did." Blade looks up at her, the purple haired woman letting slip a smile.
"Have you ever considered simply placing your faith in him, that he would most certainly have handled things on his end by the next moment you meet?"
Blade pulls the edge of the blanket over himself.
He had not considered that.
At the same time, it was also a test of his faith in Childe and his capability to handle such a crisis. Perhaps sleep deprivation and the suddenness of this situation as a whole had dulled his mind more than he thought, or rather, constantly thinking about how and what Childe was going through had been gnawing away at his thoughts.
"Wolfie told me about how you've been the last few days. I'll admit, it is strange seeing you so worried for another, so much so that you have forgotten something important, haven't you?"
Indeed he had.
He had forgotten that Childe was more than capable of accomplishing anything and everything he wanted. With an ambition so passionate, so raw as unending like the depths of the sea, one that helped him earn his title as an Emanator capable of defying and distorting fate…
"I won't need to use my Spirit Whisper now, do I? Or would it make it easier for you to finally catch a few winks after so long?" She offers, but Blade shakes his head. She knew him well enough.
"There is no need. I shall let myself sleep."