He who overcomes will, like them, be dressed in white. I will never blot out his name from the book of life, but will acknowledge his name before my Father and his angels. –Revelations 3:5 The Man in White Because they had arrived at their destination first, the so-called "Ronin Team" set about investigating their temporary abode, to see if there were any injured people inside. Kailin suggested a search for any possible missing data, but her idea was shot down for two reasons: first, since only Kamaguchi handled that stuff, nobody would know what it looked like anyway; and second, now that the Dead Zodiac were gone, it would be pointless to look anyway. Any tricks the three women might've used on them would be worthless now. But just to be safe, Ferret insisted, and was given the chance to (as only she could) sift through the building in her ghost form until she found them. Luckily, MERCS headquarters had been virtually untouched by the war, and what little mischief the Dead Zodiac caused was insignificant. A few stray criminals had wandered inside and sniffed around, but were driven away by the skeleton crew Yohko left behind to keep the place intact. The few short battles they had seen bore few casualties—but the one that really worried everyone was Yui Miyamoto's condition. She had been shot while trying to save a coworker, and another criminal stabbed her critically during a fight. She had been kept stable through a few medical devices Yohko kept stored around—the woman was a doctor, after all—but now, several hours after the fights, she didn't look well. "This is a fatal wound," Kathy murmured, using her eyes to scan the reddish-black spots that had matted over Yui's body. Miyamoto herself was breathing calmly, still a lot of fight left in her, but she had no illusions about her life being prolonged. She breathlessly asked to see Yohko; Rin set off as fast as she could, with Kathy beside her; they wanted to see if Marissa, Mora, or Aura could help turn the tide. While they were away, the others tended to Yui as best they could, but every minute lessened her chances of survival. Kamaguchi came back with a convoy—others who had heard the distress call and came running—and was the first at Yui's side. She clutched her best friend's hand tightly, as if by letting go she would surrender her to the void, and whispered to her in private. As the doctor tended to her friend's injuries, the others slowly came trickling in, many of them still wounded and weary from the war. They shot the untrustworthy doctor venomous gazes when she averted nearly all her resources to the task of saving Yui's life, but then again, they didn't expect any less from the bigoted woman. She had no true love for heroes, it seemed. When she came out of Yui's room, her face was grim and ragged. Yui had been her closest friend for ages, the one person she trusted even more than Pandora—the one person she would honestly give her life for. However, there was a building full of exhausted heroes there, each of them forced to wait for treatment so that Yui would have another hour left. It was safe to say that their opinion of the doctor lessened significantly that day, but seeing as how they didn't expect her to treat them all that well, they really couldn't complain. "Curse this technology," she muttered to herself, gazing over the crowd. "For all our work in science and medicine, we still have so far to go. What's the use of it when we can't even save one little life? But there might be a chance—I just hope she listens." Yohko descended down the staircase to the first floor, and wove her way around the crowd until she came to Amielle and Alicia's corner, where the shadow-warrior was nursing a cut leg. Needless to say, the Stalker bristled. "What do you want?" "Just to talk," Yohko said, holding her hands up defensively. "Am I correct to say that you are the alter ego of Pale the Angel, Miss Moore?" Alicia nodded slowly. It was no secret that the doctor knew—everyone did. "Can you, then, call upon Pale's presence at your will?" "No, I can't. I have no control over her. She comes and goes as she pleases." Yohko chewed on her lip. There was still hope... "Would you take the elevator with me? I have a favor to ask of you." Alicia's face darkened; she already knew what Kamaguchi wanted. "You need Pale's powers to bring Yui back." Yohko nodded. "That's right. Technology cannot repair these wounds, and those who might help are already taxed. I know I have no right to ask you anything..." "Spare me the humility, doctor," said Alicia, quiet and bitter. "I may be young and handicapped, but I can still see through your schemes. And the eyes of Pale see through far more. They know what you have in store." "I only want to save my best friend," Yohko pleaded, her voice tight with emotion. Alicia sighed wearily. The doctor was telling the truth, and for once, she didn't have any ulterior motive. Glancing at Amielle for support, Alicia squeezed the older girl's hand before wheeling off. "If Pale does not wish to help you, there's nothing I can do. I will make no further guarantees." "Thank you..." Yohko smiled joyfully and helped guide Alicia to the upper floors, where Yui laid in stasis. When they got to the room, Alicia asked to be alone, and her wish was granted. She wheeled inside, looked at the bloodied woman in pity, and took her hand. "Another life on the edge of death," she murmured, her voice deep with thought. "Pale managed to save my life, long ago. I wonder if she will do the same. Pale, my soul and my self, if you can hear me, I ask you to exercise your judgment on this woman's life. I am powerless to help her. If it is your will..." Even though she was wounded, Yui Miyamoto was strong enough to wince as a brilliant wave of light cloaked the room... ...... Yohko shifted nervously, hoping against all the logic in her mind that Pale would come through for her. Buried deep inside her jaded heart was a pulsating muscle of hope and love, love for her closest and dearest friend that enabled her to shove aside her hate and mistrust, and believe once again in the general goodness of all creatures. She knew she didn't deserve any special treatment, but this was Yui. If anyone deserved to live, even if only for a moment longer, it was she. Her hopes rose, perhaps in futility, when the door opened and footsteps padded through. No mistaking it—this was Pale. "She is safe," spoke the angel, her ashen face bittersweet as ever. "The two of you were lucky that I was called so soon. Given another hour, and not even medical science would've kept her from passing—and I am not in the habit of constantly raising the dead." "Oh, thank you!" gushed Yohko, kneeling down and clasping Pale's cold hands. "Thank you, thank you—from the bottom of my heart, I thank you!" Pale politely pulled away, and looked Yohko right in her eyes, chilling the doctor to the bone. "Know this, woman. I know what you have planned. My eyes see what goes on in here, even the things that Kathryn O'Hare cannot. I saved Yui for a reason. You still have time to stop your scheming. If you do not...then you will surely die." "I honestly have no idea what you're talking about," whispered Yohko breathlessly. "You must be mistaken—surely you must." "No. I am not." In the far distance, a slight rumbling sound could be heard, and the world seemed to shudder. Pale looked up to the ceiling, through a small glass pane that let the stars, moon, and sun shine through...and became eerily grim. "Now we must all face the consequences of my actions. You cannot have something for free in this world, Yohko Kamaguchi. Even good actions must be paid for. You will soon have many opportunities to work off your debt." "What do you mean? Can you...sense something coming?" "Yes," answered Pale, her voice low and haunting. "He is here." "Who?" "...Him." ...... No matter if they were injured or not, everyone rushed outside to see what the commotion was. They found the man in white, glowing with a frightening light, hovering high in the air with a livid expression—his smile completely forgotten. "WHERE IS SHE?" he demanded, his voice explosive. "WHERE IS PALE? I HAVE FELT HER—BRING HER TO ME!!" "This guy's absolutely demented," murmured Haanz. "Pale's not here, you bastard!" roared Amielle, brandishing her arms. "I told you that already! Why don't you go away and leave us alone?" Thirteen glowered at her, forcing her to jerk back in sudden fear. He then looked to Shalis and Namie, and became calm. "Ladies," he said, his voice smooth again, "you are loyal to me, are you not? Is Pale here? Tell me. Now is the time to collect your debt." The team focused on their allies, the two lovers who had transformed many times since their introduction. They exchanged a look, clasped hands, and raised their heads to face their master. "Yes, O Thirteenth One, Pale is here. She goes by the alternate name of Alicia Moore." "You slimy bitches!!" Amielle rushed out and tackled them, wailing madly with her bare fists. Namie put her hand on her comrade's shoulder and briefly activated her acidic powers, burning the cloth and skin just enough to distract the enraged woman. Shalis was now partially freed, and pushed Amielle away. She stood and, with her lover, distanced herself from the group, siding with the flying mass of glowing light. "You traitors," Amielle growled, bristling like a tigress. "I can't think of a curse horrible enough to place on you. Killing you would only insult the demons in Hell! How could you?!" "You have to understand, Amielle!" shouted Namie. "Master Thirteen took us in and did what no other person has ever done. He cared for us, and loved us! He nurtured us, and accepted us as normal people! He brought us together, and he healed us of our curses. He gave us what we wanted the most, and for that, we must remain loyal to him." "Fuck that!!!" she screamed. "He's a lying, manipulative, cheating, swindling, creepy, back-stabbing, selfish, evil, wretched, maniacal bastard son of a bitch!! He used us, all of us, just to get what he wanted!! And what did we get in return?!" "I got my humanity back," Shalis answered, her voice strong. "And Namie now knows what it is like to touch another person, and to feel love. These are things that we were willing to give anything for. Didn't all of us have something we wanted, something worth all this trouble?" Amielle was now weeping, but from anger and frustration, not sadness. "You cold-hearted monster... You're more a machine now than when you were before. Don't you get it? He was hunting Pale! He wanted to prosecute her for what she did, and condemn her to Hell for eternity. And you say you have things you'd rather want? What kind of a horrible person are you?" "I'm sorry," said Shalis, clinging to her lover, "but we've made our choice." Amielle cast her face down, and crumbled to the floor, weeping. All her hard work, all that skulking around and hiding...all of those wonderful, ethereal hours spent with her soulmate—all for nothing! First her parents, and now her lover. When would it ever end? "Look," said Merry stiffly, "I don't condone what you've done either, but it's become clear to me that we can't just hand Pale over to that freak up there. She's our friend now, and there's no crime big enough to convince us to hand her over. I'll fight for her, and Amielle, even if I have to give up my own wonderful life to do it!!" "I'm in on this as well," added Marissa. "Having died once before, I no longer fear an endless eternity spent in the void of Chaos. I know where I will go, and I know who I truly am. I am loved now; all of this is good enough. I will fight, even if I must die ten times before I win!" "I help friends!" called Julie, rallying along with the other girls. "But not hate Namie or Shalis. Wish not to fight them. Love-love them! I help protect Pale, because she my friend too. I...am not...a monster. I am not a monster! I'm not a monster! I'm a human being!" "Guess that leaves me," sighed Alisti, crossing her arms. She looked over and smiled wanly at Skye. "I assume that your everlasting love of me will convince you to come along as well?" The silent young woman grinned and gave Alisti a wink. One by one, more and more people rallied behind Amielle, against two who were once their comrades—and one that nobody ever really liked or trusted. Thirteen regarded the assembly with an indifferent smile; Namie and Shalis just held each other tightly. And then, the star of the show appeared. "I will not hide, Metatron!" proclaimed the loud voice of Pale, the Fallen Angel, and the focal point of this whole debacle. She hovered over the heads of her allies and friends, landed next to Amielle, and looked straight up at him. "I am here, at last, no longer in the shadows. There is no point to it anyway. If you must do this, then get it over with. However, realize that I have no intention of going along quietly. I will fight you, even if I stand no chance." "No, we're going to win," whispered Amielle, taking her lover's hand and smiling warmly. Pale returned the gesture and mouthed a thanks. Thirteen's smile broadened. "You are all interfering with powers that are beyond your limits. I will say this once: surrender Pale, immediately. I will give you whatever you ask; all you have to do is name it. Riches, power, companionship, the return of a lost loved one—all these things and more are within my grasp, if you will just give me what I seek." "So basically, we're selling our souls for material goods," growled Stevenson. He balled his fists up and stood strong, his comrades surrounding him. "Not a chance, you white freak! I'd rather die doing the right thing than live in that kind of shame! Show us your worst!" "I can do a lot more than that," sang the man in white. His glow broadened, his arms spread... "No," said Pale and Amielle, their voices as one—"We will do this, together." They squeezed their hands tight, and from out of their free palms emerged a radiant sword—one black, one white. Their bodies suddenly burst in an explosion of black and white light, and the two seemed fused at their hands: an almighty symbol of yin and yang, balance and chaos, all overpowered by love. Even Thirteen jerked back slightly in surprise as the two glowing women came at him, spinning viciously, their swords sailing through the air, direct at his body. The force was like a hurricane, slashing through his defenses greedily, throwing the glowing man back with a terrible shove. Thirteen crashed into the ground, letting a shriek of surprise—and pain—out as his body fell into the ground, the impact so great that a small hill erupted from the residue. Amielle and Pale stood waiting, examining their handiwork, patiently biding their time as the dust cleared and their own pulses subsided. They let their hands go, held their breath... "Unbelievable," whispered Alisti in shock. "Did they really do it...?" Skye shook her head; the team dared to step forward, into the unknown. For the longest time, nothing happened. A few people began to believe they had really done it, that the frightening, eerie, godlike man in white had been defeated. But a power that great cannot be extinguished so easily, and as the earth blew apart, gravel and stone flying out in an explosion, the power they thought defeated returned—only now, in its true form, and ten times stronger. There was no mistaking it: the man in white had been, in fact, an angel all this time. His body was now thrice the size it once was, and blinding fire shot out from his body, consuming the air. The creature's feet were gold, its arms blazing and silvery, its head like a thunderstorm. It was covered with all-seeing eyes, a great many color of them, and wings, countless wings, looking more like water and clouds than feathers or membrane. In his hand was an all-consuming rod, its tip blazing with the volcanic fury of Heaven. This was no meek, feminine comforter, nor adorable cherubim, not even an avenging savior. This was a living, breathing, thinking Star, clothed like the sun, its voice a roll of thunder, its vengeance swift. With but a gesture, it swept Amielle and Pale aside; the others sprang into action, futile though it was. Alisti tried blasting him, but the force merely sent the angel tumbling backwards, nothing more. No melee fighter could get close to him because of the searing flames, each white-hot tongue a lash of solar fury, and all missiles either burned or melted upon contact. Thirteen roared and slammed his rod on the ground, jostling the heroes and sending them to their knees. He floated closer, slowly, casting no shadow. Marissa rolled to the side just as a wall of searing flame carved a canyon in the ground. Using her powers at full force was deadly, but...what could she lose? Yohko would just bring her back, like she had before—that's what "mothers" were for, right? She amplified her powers and sent everything she had at the creature in white, the one who had helped her, guided her, fed her and sheltered her—but she felt no remorse, no sorrow at all. She loved another now. If Thirteen felt her blast, he didn't react; he just swept at the air, sending a gust of wind bowling her over, and spewed ice and flames from his mouth, burning the evolved woman. Even Merry could not withstand his heat, so she and a few others focused on Shalis and Namie. It was one thing for the two to betray them like that, but now they were actually fighting alongside that damned creature, against people who had once been friends. The battle was both tragic and fierce, Namie keeping attackers at bay with her acidic touch and Shalis fighting them with limbs enhanced by bionics. Julie kept out of that fight—she couldn't bear to raise her hand against friends, even if they were traitors—and kept to fighting the man in white, though even she could not endure getting close to him. She used her speed and flexibility to save others, instead, diving in at the last second to catch her troubled friends. Amielle and Pale fought back ferociously, but except for Pale, nobody was doing any kind of damage at all—and the way Pale fought was frightening. Everyone knew what she could do (they recalled the battle against The Dragon), and stared in horror as she and the creature in white locked horns, slashing each other apart. They did not bleed, did not cry out, did not even stop—they just fought. Those who were once Lost found themselves going up against this creature, the one who had offered to help them in exchange for a service...but now that they knew the full truth, they chose the path of selflessness. Nobody could bring themselves to betray Pale, not even for their own sake. But Thirteen was vastly superior to all of them, even Pale. He wiped everyone out with great blasts, flattening them again and again. It was clear that with his power, he could kill easily, yet he chose not to. Instead, he disabled them, crushing them under an invisible weight. He only attacked Pale; everyone else he merely defended against, or shoved back. There was no way they could win, no way at all. Finally, after what seemed like eight lifetimes, Thirteen knocked Pale back, grimaced with glee, and prepared to annihilate the fallen one. Amielle stood in front of her lover and used all her power to shield her; Marissa joined her friend, amplifying her powers, and soon one by one, everyone focused just to keep their friend, their comrade and ally, their beloved Pale from being destroyed. Even Pale sat up and fought—not for herself, but for those she loved. The blast dug a deep trench around the heroes, and even with all their combined efforts, nearly broke their defenses. But it held, just barely. "I do not understand," proclaimed the angel, the Thirteenth One. "You are already defeated. You knew, just from knowing who I was and what I could do, that you could not win. I gave you everything, and I vowed to give you more. To heal your wounds, to fill your gaps, to replenish those you lost, and to return love to your hearts—are these not what people truly seek? I donated everything, and all I asked was your cooperation. This fallen angel means nothing to you. I could easily sustain the woman she keeps alive. Surely that was not your only concern, though—so why? I must ask you, why? Why do you continue to fight me? Accept your judgment, my fallen sister!!" From the ruins of the earth, slowly coming to focus as the dust settled, Pale's voice emerged, weak yet persistent. "I already have. Even though I knew I was damned, I still wanted to help people. Don't you see? I was cast out from Heaven for questioning our Lord, because I felt He was far too inactive. In the old days, He used to interact with His creation so much, but now...I began to seriously doubt Him. How could He so coldly turn His back on the beings He once loved and guided? How could He let Malchior be so abused? How could He let these beautiful Lost Girls go down such a spiraling descent? How could He abide pain, and war, and grief? How could He stand by and watch as two women lost their loved ones to villainy? Did He no longer feel love? "I abandoned Heaven to do what I felt needed to be done. I came as an emissary of hope and light, to do what He did not, to be Heaven's representative, even if Heaven itself refused me. And for this, you say, I must be judged. Surely," she whispered, now visibly crying, "if this is what God has turned out to be, then I am glad I have left Heaven. But if our Lord is truly the Lord I remember, the one I love and serve, He will not send me to Hell for doing the right thing! So what if I spoke out against Him?! He needs more of us to question His method, no matter how infallible He believes Himself to be! I have surely been led to believe that you are at fault, my shining brother—not I." The world froze, quiet and serene, as they waited for the shining one to answer. Amielle stood instead. "I don't care about any of that," she said, limping over to her beloved. "I just want to be with Pale, or Alicia, or whoever this is. I want to love her and be a part of her, for as long as my body and soul are intact. Even if I have to go up against God Himself, I will NEVER surrender my love for her. Do you hear me, man in white? I refuse to let go of Pale. I love her more than I could ever love anything, and there's nothing you can do against that. Go away, and leave us alone." He seemed to consider this new development carefully. "You do realize what you are saying, do you not?" "Of course." "I may not be the only one who comes here asking to claim this fallen star. There could be others. What will you say to them? Will you continue this defiance, even in the face of a host of angels?" "Let them try," Amielle swore, clutching onto her lover possessively. Thirteen scoffed. "This is simply unbelievable. I never did understand humans, whether they had great powers or not. But I can see that my presence here is futile. I would have to kill you to claim what is mine, and that is not my duty. Consider yourself...off the hook, for now. But be warned, ye two: the next time, you may not be so fortunate." "We don't care," said Pale, sparing a glance at Amielle, her fellow fallen angel. "Though we may be wrapped in darkness, we shall never fear the light. It is this light we must seek—this truth and this love. Even if we die in each other's arms, we will have shown the world, and the powers that be, the strength of love." Another long period of silence passed. Thirteen actually seemed to sigh. "I just do not understand," he whispered, as he slowly faded off into the distance. He was never seen again. A collective sigh came up from the group. "It's over," said Pale, leaning against her beloved. Amielle smiled gently. "Yeah...about time that weirdo got out of our hair. That's it, then—everything's all wrapped up." "You gotta be kidding me!" Mora exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air. "This isn't quite the end, not by a long shot! We still have one more loose thread that needs to be cut away before we can break out the champagne and start celebrating!" "What?" they asked her. The Cobra's face turned dark, and she looked over at Rin, Kailin, Marissa, and Sanaa. They knew what she was talking about. "That woman, the one who took Lyn with her. She has to pay for what she's done. And as much as I hate that bitch Lyn, even I won't leave her to be sucked into that woman's world. We need to save her, and clobber some sense into her head." The few that really knew the Cobra—Battle Divas, mostly—smiled fondly, believing there was more to it than just that. With a grave expression, everyone exchanged a nod of agreement, and the final phase of their operation soon began. "Ladies, the rescue mission is on. We've got a lot of work to do." To be continued... Epilogue Then the angel carried me away in the Spirit into a desert. There I saw a woman sitting on a scarlet beast that was covered with blasphemous names and had seven heads and ten horns. [...] This title was written on her forehead: MYSTERY, BABYLON THE GREAT, THE MOTHER OF PROSITUTES, AND OF THE ABOMINATIONS OF THE EARTH. –Revelations 17:3-7
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