Ex Lacrima Remnant

Track #27 – Pest Control

The moment her eye landed on her chest piece, Lily failed to believe what she was seeing. Her shoulder pads. Her belt. Her boots. Her gloves. Everything was vibrating, resonating at the sound of Kryzalid’s music. And cracking. Faster. Faster. Breaking down in irregular patterns, following no line. Oscillating. Vibrating. That wasn’t possible. That couldn’t be possible. And yet…

One last note.

Silence fell.

And her armor, Lily’s armor, burst into dust, into shattered fragments, all of a sudden. Leaving just a suit of blue fabric as her only protection. Kryzalid gasped for air, almost fell on the ground. Her fingers were aching. Her breath ragged. Her skin completely covered in sweat, her blindfold wet and drenched. Her right hand was shaking, unable to keep firm. That was the price for performing that miracle. The miracle only Lady Kryzalid was capable of. A stupid, useless miracle, one that just won her some time. Because Lily didn’t need her armor. It was an additional layer of defense, nothing more. The true damage was not physical.

It was psychological.

Kryzalid wore a smile, aimed her bow at the rhizome, her grin burned with bravado.

“Wanna listen to my encore? I’m sure your boobs look wonderful, under that suit! Or should I make your head explode first? Come on, iron bitch! Make me scream in pleasure!”

Lily stared at her in silence, her eye still darting around, focusing on the poor remains of her tactical gear. Bona fide resonance explosion. No trick. No cheap excuse. Kryzalid was the real deal, not a charlatan that play-pretended to be a goddess. That violin was an extension of her.

And that made her too dangerous.

Lily’s now bare foot left Dobrio’s abdomen, stomped the ground instead. Her vines coiled around her shoulder, her right hand reached for them, let them envelop it. Then, she extracted a new hilt. A shining, new blade, one equal to that which pierced Lacrima’s shoulder. She raised above her head, pulled it down. Then, the tendrils from her back burst all together in a peacock tail shape, a crown wrapping her as the one true queen. She bent her knees, her arm, her new sword ready to strike.

Suddenly, pain.

Pain through her chest.

Dulled by her medicines.

Yet, still pain.

She looked down.

A black tip.

The same.

As her weapon’s.

Piercing her. From behind.

“…who’s the failure… now?”

Lacrima. Barely hanging on. Lymph pouring out of her skewered shoulder. Her body battered. Her muscles aching. But with enough strength. To pull out Lily’s blade from her wound.

And use it against her.

Striking her through one of her lungs. Avoiding the protection of the back tendrils by an inch. The opening. That opening was all she needed. Mimi, Dobrio… they gave her a chance. They freed her from Lily’s grasp. They weakened her sister. Grabbed her attention. Just for her to finish it, to hit the last strike. Her chest burned. Her belly burned. Her new garments were already so damaged that she had to throw them away, after that fight. But that meant nothing. Because she won. She was the one standing. Despite everything. The last rhizome alive. Was she.

“So? Who’s the failure?! Say it!”

Blind rage, words spat with anger. Lacrima twisted the blade in the wound. Once. Twice. Spasms traversed Lily’s body, almost forced her to kneel. Almost. Lymph poured down her lips, dripped on her chin. Till a smile formed on her face. A cruel smile, one without humanity, one of pure mockery.

“That’s still you, ‘big sis’.”

A sudden turn, a slap with the vine hand. Lacrima lost her grip on the handle, fell backwards. Lily faced her, the blade still stuck in her body, protruding through the blue fabric of her suit. Green fluid oozed all around the wound, dripping out of it. But Lily was still standing tall. Completely unperturbed. Staring down at her ‘sister’. Lacrima’s mouth fell agape, her left hand scrambled to turn into vines again. She grabbed a new hilt, pulled out a new black blade. The lymph coated it, akin to slime, still sticking to her newborn weapon. But her will to fight was gone. Destroyed. By the simple fact.

That

Lily

Was still

Standing.

Breathe. Breathe. Lacrima clenched her fingers around the hilt. No, it wasn’t over. It wasn’t over yet. She raised her sword, dashed forward, screamed from the bottom of her lungs, stopped immediately after, swung her blade in a wide horizontal strike.

Lily’s vines.

Formed a shield.

Stopped the blade.

Like a hand.

Grabbed it.

And.

Broke it.

In half.

Lacrima’s heart sunk. As soon as her weapon shattered. Her eye blinked, the sight of the black fragments not registering. That simply. Couldn’t be. Real. She stumbled forward, still driven by her momentum, fell down. Lily’s vines opened up in a wide fan, surrounded Lacrima, wrapped around her legs, her arms, her chest, her neck, one, two, three times. Paralyzed. She was paralyzed. Locked in her grasp. She tried to move, to force her way out. In vain. The vines were strangling her limbs, crushing her bones. Pain flared up through all of her body, as lymph poured from her rose, from her lips. Overflow. She was almost in overflow. She shook her head, tried to bite the vines, to drive them away. But it was useless.

Lily was.

Too strong.

For her.

“Laccy!”

Mimi’s voice. Mimi was shouting. She couldn’t see, she couldn’t know what was happening. But her screams… her screams had given the situation away. Mimi stood up, arced her bow like a dagger. But stopped. She knew where Lily was. She knew where Lacrima was. But that was it. Her echolocation image was not precise enough. She clicked her tongue, cursed her handicap.

“…whatever.”

Then, ran forward, without wasting a second longer. Anything. Anything was better than doing nothing. She heard her heartbeat. Bump. Bump. Bump. Then, steps, other steps. His steps. Dobrio. Up on his feet again. Running forward too, at full speed. Her heartbeat went faster. Bump. Bump. Bump. She raised her bow, swung it like a bat. On the other side, Dobrio raised his fist, directed it at Lily’s cheek. But both. Were sent. Flying.

Lily’s back vines.

Slammed both of them away.

Dobrio landed on his back, his nape bouncing on the tiles, his eye going blank. Pain. Lights out. All going dark. And muffled. Kryzalid ate the dust too, lost her bow in the impact, her nose hitting the ground first. She felt a taste of iron in her mouth. Blood. Her blood. She wiped it, wiped as fast as she could, tried to find her bow again. Her hand moved on the floor, touched the tiles, tried to get a grip on her fallen instrument. All while Lacrima was still in Lily’s grip, fighting with all her residual strength.

Lily’s back vines expanded once more, creating a cage around her, sealing the exits, blocking the path. Making it impossible for the trapped people to escape. Keeping out Dobrio and Mimi. Now that her moment had finally arrived. Her fingers caressed Lacrima’s cheek, moved to touch her rose’s petals. A smirk emerged from her emotional void.

“My, my. Such a bold shade of red. Daring, are we?”

She followed the profile of the nose, down to her sister’s lips. So similar to hers, so different. Her hand went down to the neck, to that strange choker decorated with feathers. White feathers of some sort of bird, one that Lily had no interest in recognizing. It seemed expensive, though. She moved her fingers through the feathers, caressed them too.

“Tell me, ‘big sis’… should I rip them off? Pluck them off one by one? How would you like that?”

Lacrima’s pupil dilated in horror, her neck shaken left and right, as much as Lily’s grip could allow her to.

“N… no! It’s a gift! Don’t ruin it, please! Don’t… ruin it! It’s a gift!”

A chuckle. Lily. Just chuckled. At her desperate plea.

“I won’t. I’m not that cruel.”

Her fingers moved up to her rose again, moved behind the sepals, took its stem between her ring and medium.

“But this rose…”

Her grip closed around the flower, her nails bit the petals.

“…it’s too beautiful for trash like you!”

And she pulled her hand back, ripping it out of the eye socket. Severing the stem. Crushing it in her hand.

Lacrima’s eye widened. Her mouth wide open. A desperate bellow. A primeval scream. Lymph poured out of the broken stem, filled the emptiness, flowed down her cheek. But the scream. Didn’t. Stop. Every second. Every second longer. Lacrima screamed. From the bottom of her lungs. Air leaving her body, her breath dying out. The green fluid oozing all over her face, down to her ripped clothes, to the gashes on her chest. Lily brought the rose to her lips, kissed it. Before biting it, eating it down, licking her lips.

“At least, your lymph is delicious.”

Her tongue reached for Lacrima’s cheek, licked it. Another chuckle.

“Now I understand why Mimi kept you around.”

Then, she snapped her fingers. And her vines.

All together.

Snapped too.

Breaking Lacrima’s elbow.

And both of her knees.

At the same time.

Before releasing her.

Lacrima’s body fell to the floor, gravity slammed it down. A puppet with her strings cut. Her limbs aching, not responding to her commands. Her eye socket dripping lymph all down her skin. Her mouth gasping for air, hyperventilating, still screaming.

Her eye wide open. Leaking water.

Crying.

Slowly, her shouts died out. She. Simply. Stopped fighting. But couldn’t stop. Watching. In her powerless state, she was like a discarded doll. Cracked. Useless. Her sister was right. She was.

A complete.

Failure.

One that couldn’t even stand up for herself.

A plant not even good for firewood.

There was no reason to keep fighting.

Thus.

She wished she could just switch off.

Like the defective talking doll she was.

And make the pain.

Go away.

“Laccyyyyy!”

Laccy.

That nickname.

That was.

That had to be.

Mimi’s voice?

Shouting. Screaming from the bottom of her lungs. That’s right. She was her house plant, now. House. A safe place where she could let herself be drained in peace. A safe place where to watch bird documentaries. That’s what Mimi gave her. And.

She couldn’t even.

Protect it.

“What did you do to her? What did you do to Laccy?!”

“Your ‘Laccy’ was just a faulty prototype. So, I broke her. Literally.”

The voices mixed and merged in her brain, till she stopped thinking altogether. Till she heard that inhuman scream.

“Lagash fuck you! I… I won’t let you take her away from me!”

Steps. A sound of steps. Rapid steps. Without coordination. Without reason. Someone running towards them, towards her and Lily. Lacrima reopened her eye. And saw her, Mimi. Raising her bow like a mace, swinging it like a bat, to the place where she thought Lily was. But her arm. Was caught in Lily’s vines. Mimi was lifted, thrown away, slammed to the ground, then on the wall. Her bow. Her violin. Both bounced on the ground, scattered around Mimi’s body. Lacrima wanted to call to her, to call her name. But she had. No energies. Left. Every movement a pain. Her legs. Her arm. She lost sensitivity. Her nerves. Severed? Her lymph. Pouring out from her eye socket. Like waterfall. Draining her. Draining her of her only weapon.

A humming noise.

First weak. The louder. Louder. Louder.

Lily turned towards the gate, the corridor Kryzalid emerged from at first.

A figured with gas mask was standing there. Aiming a gun at her.

Pulling the trigger.

A white flash filled the room.

A bolt brighter than the sun.

Lily felt scorching heat on her left shoulder, a burning sensation spreading all around her fibers. The bolt pierced the wall, make it crumble, exposing the rebar, causing rubble to fall. Lily’s arm. Burned. It felt. Like being on fire. Her hand went for her shoulder, for where her tendrils, her vines were. Only to find a melting stump. Her bark. Her roots. Burned to a crisp.

Her arm tendrils.

Were now.

Just ashes.

Lily squinted her eye, stared at the shooter. Red cape. That had to be the cultist that escaped with Lacrima from Bargain Barricade. But that gun…? Where did that gun come from? She shrugged, realigned her back tendrils. Then, poured all of her lymph in her stump. New vines grew out of it almost immediately, still bathed in green fluid, rebuilding the lost arm. The sword stuck in her lung slipped out of the wound, falling to the ground with a muffled thud. No real damage. Yet, that gun… was dangerous. So dangerous that she had to ask. There was no way that shot wasn’t intentional. No way.

“Why didn’t you aim at my chest?”

Robin kept the gun trained on her target, breathed slowly. Her distorted voice reached Lily, in a low, droning tone.

“Captain Commander Lily of the rhizome unit…”

The finger hovered on the trigger, ready for a second shot. Lily studied the movements of that enigmatic figure, not understanding whether they were a man, a woman, or something else entirely. If they pulled the trigger again, she could have died on the spot. But there was something in their movements that felt wrong. Inexperience, maybe. Or just unwillingness to shoot. She could see it. There was a slight delay between their intent and their motion. Slight enough to be hard to perceive, but not enough to be invisible. The masked figure kept talking, their voice slow, measuring every word.

“…I want to bargain.”

Kryzalid’s mouth fell agape. Lacrima’s eye widened. Bargain. Robin want to bargain? A sudden chill went down Kryzalid’s spine. She gritted her teeth, while still trying to stand up, to force her body to win against the pain. Lily gazed at the masked figure, began to talk too.

“You’re in no position to bargain.”

“I can kill you in one shot.”

Lily nodded. That was, indeed, true. If the masked figure shot her in the head with that firepower, her life would have been over. Yet, they didn’t do it. Their goal was to play their hand, show their royal flush to force her to give something back. But what? Still, that made things easier. The caped figure couldn’t possibly want her dead. Otherwise, she would have been burned to a crisp already.

“Fair. You can. What of it?”

“You’ll be there, right? During the Turn of the Millennium! You’ll be at the vault with the President, leading the security team for the representatives of the United Nations of Lagash!”

“Yes, and?”

A pause, the gun trembling for an instant, moisture building up on the black lenses.

“I want you to stop them.”

“Excuse me?”

“Prevent them from opening the vault! Promise! Swear that you’ll do that and I’ll let you go. Kill them, if necessary! Every last one of them! But don’t! Let them! Open! The tenth vault! If that happens, it’s over, you understand? This is why I need you! You are the only one who can prevent it, Captain Commander Lily!”

Kryzalid couldn’t understand. What was that rambling? What was Robin saying? That didn’t make any sense. What camp was she in, really? Whom did she work for? Nothing made sense, that didn’t make sense at all.

What about your promise?, she wanted, she needed to ask. But her voice was stuck, frozen in her throat. Robin didn’t even look at her, didn’t seek Lacrima. Her gaze was all on her target, as if the rest of the world didn’t exist. Her distorted voice emerged once more from the mask, almost like the roar of a lion.

“So? What’s your answer, Captain Commander Lily? You just… you just need to say yes! Or … or better! Bring me with you. Bring me to the vault, so that I can kill them!”

Lily didn’t even blink. She simply extended her vines, grabbed one of the bodies from the floor – a kid. Still breathing. Still alive. Yet, passed out. With a sudden whiplash, she reeled him to her chest, hanged him between herself and the gun, letting his body dangle from her vines. A human shield. The perfect human shield.

Yet.

The masked man’s reaction.

Was not.

What she expected.

Laughter.

Distorted laughter from the mask.

“That kid… no, nobody in this room means anything to me.”

She turned her gun down, towards the senseless head of the bald man with a mustache. He was still breathing, his chest moving up and down, despite his state of unconsciousness, despite the light wounds scattered around her skin.

Suddenly, a humming noise filled the room, first weak, then louder. Louder. Louder.

“NO!”

Ms. Frankberg shouted from the bottom of her lungs, her mechanical arm protruded forward.

But. It was. No use.

A white bolt. A blinding light. A sound of thunder. A tremendous impact that shook the ground. A cloud of dust exploded, turned everything gray, rained down like ash.

Red ash.

Mixed with blood.

Entrails.

Fragments of bones.

Silence fell.

The dust slowly settled.

Where once lay the body of Shane.

A crater.

His body, from his torso up…

Gone.

His arms.

What was left of them.

Split from his corpse.

And his head.

Nowhere to be found.

Everyone screamed. Every. Single. Civilian. But not Robin. Her eyes were burning. She trained her gun on Lily, aimed with surgical precision. And her voice emerged from the speakers, more determined, more distorted than ever.

“Nobody.”