While the Mantis went off on her rant, Zelsys would occasionally cut in with a brief, snide remark or snap back at her to keep her going. The red one held the barest minimum of her focus, while she plotted a path around the barrier to its weak point. It was around this point that the others caught up, and Zelsys had a realization. It was a farce. A play to buy time. She felt vitriol from the Mantis, sure, but there was also fear, fear and tension that alleviated each time she took another breath from that disgusting inhaler.
The Mantis was buying time, likely to finish whatever outlandish ritual the three were partaking in, one that was doubtlessly meant to guarantee their victory. With no way to know how many more breaths of the iridescent gas it would be until the process was finished, Zelsys chose to drop any pretence of subtlety and act.
“I’ll admit that you almost had me at the start there, but I’m not biting your bait,” she grinned, turning her heels as she spoke before she took off running around the barrier.
It was just before Zelsys stopped herself from running into the barrier that the others emerged from the hive, and all of them saw it happen. All three of them saw her come to a sliding halt right in front of the changed Red Mantis. More importantly, they all saw the barrier become concrete in reaction to a foreign presence, thus rendering it visible.
The Mantis acknowledged them with a tilt of her head and a malicious glance, a wordless affirmation that “These words of murder are meant for you too”.
Nevertheless, the vast bulk of her malice remained directed at the silver-eyed homunculus, and to Strolvath it was clear that the Mantis had built Zelsys up in her mind well beyond what the slayer was - a personal villain. Or perhaps the Mantis was just that frustrated after not being able to spit vitriol at someone without severe repercussions. It didn’t matter, she had to die either way.
Zefaris grasped a handful of coins, her gun at the ready and her focus honed to a needlepoint. The Philosopher’s Eye thrummed in its socket with each silvery exhalation even as she kept it closed. It was like the stone wanted her to use it, to release the Aether in her lungs through it as a violent discharge.
Alcerys recited the same reinforcement invocation every couple seconds, feeding more Aether into the Eight Stars of Calamity to prolong the technique’s duration and slightly amplify its impact. It’d take its toll in fatigue at best and horrible pain at worst, but that was her far wealthier future self’s problem.
And Strolvath… Strolvath strummed his strings and hummed his melody, both his music and his blazing light had died down to a subtle glow. No… Not subtle. It was ominous. It was the glow of a burning fuse and the distant thunder of a coming storm. The Old Soldier had another card up his sleeve, and he made it blatantly obvious.
Seemingly out of nowhere, Zelsys interrupted the Mantis’s ongoing tirade with a short remark and took off like greased lightning, leaving the Locust Noble frozen on the spot. Her left eye and mandible both twitched for a moment, then she dropped the nasty sucker-inhaler. Extending her arm-blades she turned on a heel and launched herself towards the barrier’s other side, right over that chitinous mass in the middle that the tubes were connected to.
Zelsys ran as quickly as her feet would carry her, keeping the Butcher’s point only centimeters above the floor. Lightning surged through her legs with every step as she circumnavigated the barrier’s perimeter, intent on tossing the explosive and severing the large cable within the same half-second. She yanked the grenade off her belt just as the gap in the barrier came into direct view, tossing it right through as she ran by and severed the larger tendril.
Somewhat surprisingly, the Mantis had reached the gap in the barrier just as the grenade passed through it - not before, not after, but at the exact, perfect time. Not because she caught it and tossed it back, or because she managed to swat it out of the barrier - it was because the grenade bounced off her forehead with a hollow thunk and tumbled even higher into the air.
The fury-stricken Mantis slipped right through the gap, turning on a dime to give chase with arm-blades held out wide and eyes locked dead-on to Zelsys. A maddened, twitching stare, mandibles spread wide in an animalistic threat display. With her gilded arm-blades she lunged towards the beast-slayer, faster than any foe she’d faced before.
Faster than she could fully process. Zel’s mind simplified the motion down to smudged colours, her peripheral vision fading as her brain prioritized the greatest threat according to her Slayer’s Instinct. Everything else came to a crawl, the world outside the impending clash faded from perception for the sake of surpassing the limits of her reflexes.
Barely, just barely, Zelsys managed to pull the Butcher upward to stop her own impending decapitation. Those golden blades locked into a cross against the cleaver’s dull-red edge, scraping against it as they locked eyes. The impact buckled her knees and very nearly broke her grasp, only offset by a lungful’s exhalation and her grasping the sawteeth with her bare hands. Those she grabbed dulled themselves before she even touched them, but their shape still dug into her hand.
Neither blade was sharp enough to bite into the other, but Zelsys had a stronger stance, a heavier weapon. With a spark of will she directed the stored Fulgur to heat her weapon’s edge, and as it crossed the boundary of sun-yellow she could see the subtle discoloration of rapidly-heated metal spreading across those golden blades. She could smell the stink of burning chitin, not from the golden edges, but from the chitin that held them in place.
“Cle-cke-cle-cke-ke,” chattered the Red Mantis, cackling a mad, wordless noise.
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