The alley felt colder than it should have. Shadows pooled in unnatural ways, stretching long despite the golden rays bleeding through the rooftop gaps. Absynthe stood still, her brow furrowed.
She saw her. Or at least, she felt the lingering imprint—the same figure from that night. Present, yet absent.
Fatigue gnawed at her limbs, heavy with the weight of unanswered questions. She willed herself forward, refusing to let exhaustion slow her.
"Why are we here?" Synthena's voice cut through the quiet, tinged with curiosity. "Did I miss something important?"
Adjusting her eyeglass, she scanned the alleyway with a practiced gaze, piecing together fragments of an unseen puzzle. The dim passage stretched before them, cloaked in shadow yet fractured by streaks of light, creating an eerie contrast.
Absynthe rubbed her temples, forcing clarity through the haze of fatigue.
Something was wrong. She felt it in her bones.
Synthena darted ahead, her movements effortlessly light, slipping into her detective persona with playful ease. But there was an edge to her stance—a sharpness that suggested she wasn't entirely immune to the tension simmering in the air.
She halted mid-step, her gaze flickering toward Absynthe's sluggish movements.
"You look exhausted," she remarked, softer now. "I don't blame you… I feel it too."
Her eyes were distant, glazed from the battle before. The weight of their fight still clung to her.
"Don't worry—we'll rest soon. First, let's figure out what you're looking for."
Absynthe nodded. She followed close behind as Synthena sharpened her focus.
A faint, singe-prickled at her senses—blue and red dust flickered at her fingertips, pulsing alongside the faint glow of her crystallized patterns. Her instincts sharpened.
She followed it. Absynthe watched, curiosity blooming beneath the fog of her fatigue.
Synthena suddenly halted, locking onto a small puddle of blue dust trailing along the ground—a path that hadn't been there before.
Her thoughts raced. Uncertain. Intrigued.
"What did you find?" Absynthe asked, urgency threading her voice as she bent down beside Synthena, scanning the spot Synthena had pointed to.
Synthena lifted a finger. "The dust—can't you see it?"
Absynthe frowned. "What are you talking about? I don't see anything."
Determined, Absynthe pressed her palms against the ground, scoping the area Synthena had pointed out. Nothing. A flicker of frustration crossed her face, then confusion.
Synthena's aura shifted—oddly playful despite the mystery unraveling before them.
She chuckled, then straightened, eyes locked onto something unseen.
"Come this way—follow me."
Absynthe didn't hesitate. She moved in step with Synthena, trailing close behind.
Their path led them to a bin, slightly ajar, metallic edges reflecting an eerie glow from within.
It felt orchestrated—like someone wanted them to find it.
Synthena sprinted forward, flinging the lid open with force.
"Ew—you're really going garbage diving now?" Absynthe recoiled, her nose wrinkling. "I don't want to eat molded scraps or whatever's in there… yuck."
Despite her delinquent reputation, she was a clean freak through and through. Monster guts? Fine. Rotting trash? Unacceptable.
"Oh, don't be gross—it's not that!" Synthena shot back, already half-buried in the mess.
Absynthe hugged herself, trying to rid the invisible grime creeping up her skin. She had battled horrors beyond logic—but somehow, this was worse.
Then, Synthena emerged, fingers curled around a single folded note.
She dusted it off, eyes darting across the words.
"Come to the back cabin."
A single directive. A warning. A call.
Absynthe's breath hitched as she read the message over Synthena's shoulder.
"The cabin?" she echoed.
Synthena's expression darkened. "…Does it mean…?"
Neither of them waited for the answer.
They turned at the same time, urgency syncing their movements—as if compelled by a force beyond their understanding—rushing toward whatever awaited them in the unknown.
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Laughter spilled into the air, stretching across the golden afternoon like a well-worn melody. Memories intertwined, replaying like fragments of a dream—their journey to the cabin on their days off, a ritual sealed in time, where worries faded and only warmth remained.
Junk food in hand, they crashed onto bean bags, throwing open snack wrappers with the reckless freedom only close friends could afford. The gaming box hummed to life, bathing the room in flickering neon as they queued up their favorite battlegrounds—2v2 matches that ended in victorious shouts, or 1v1 duels that sparked strategic rivalries.
They wore their old middle school uniforms, a playful tribute to the past. It was in those uniforms that they had first met Obsidion and Celestia—once enemies, once allies—locked in a high-stakes match of "Fight On, Fight Oh Con", where tactics dictated fate and split-second decisions could turn champions into fools.
Now, sprawled across the room, they dove into another battle—"Worldnopoly", a cutthroat game of commerce where empires rose and fell with every roll of the dice. Travis leaned forward, eyes gleaming with ruthless precision. Absynthe scoffed, shaking her head at his confidence. Synthena, ever the strategist, plotted her next move, her grin sharp.
The cabin was alive—filled with energy, warmth, and the lingering echoes of days spent here. This was their sanctuary. Their place. No battles, no cosmic forces. Just them. Happy. Lively. Unshaken.
*************************************************************************************
Absynthe and Synthena arrived at the cabin—a place once bursting with warmth, now swallowed by time. Encircled by forest and sea, it had once stood as a refuge, where laughter rang out and memories were etched into its silver-threaded walls.
Now, it was ruined. Not eroded. Not tarnished. Just overgrown, overtaken by nature's relentless embrace.
Synthena was the first to stop, her breath catching as sadness flickered through her gaze.
"What… happened?"
Absynthe arrived a moment later, eyes sweeping over the familiar structure. Her mind twisted, disoriented by the sight. A sanctuary once untouched by pain—now fragile, barely holding on.
But then—a flicker of light.
A glint from the window. A sign of hope.
Their hearts lifted at the possibility—a human? Someone uncorrupted? The thought sent them rushing toward the cabin, desperate for a glimpse of normalcy.
The moment they stepped inside, nostalgia wrapped around them.
The scent of cedar. The lingering warmth of what once was.
They let it sink in, let their relief settle, only to be shattered.
A figure.
Back turned. Slouched. Still.
Not fully corrupted, yet not whole. Something was wrong.
He stirred, shifting his posture. Red hair fell over his shoulders, slightly tousled, moving with the air. His upper body was bare, streaked with patterns—deep red, like tar, wrapping across his skin in a form that felt neither natural nor fully monstrous.
The aura around him—blackened, tinted red at its edges—moved like smoke, flowing with a hunger that set every instinct on edge.
Then, he lifted his head.
Gold eyes burned like embers, fierce yet… starved.
Absynthe and Synthena immediately took a defensive stance, bodies tensed, waiting. Not sure what was about to come next.
Absynthe's breath hitched. Her mind reeled. The red hair. The golden eyes.
"…Obsidion?"
Her voice barely touched the air, stunned, afraid, uncertain.
The figure—tall, nearly six feet—remained still. He glanced over his shoulder, memory flickering in his gaze, recognition lost and found all at once.
The air was too still. The moment stretched—a silence thick enough to drown in.
Absynthe's breath caught, her pulse thrumming against her ribs. She knew that face. That red hair. That gold-lit gaze—fierce, burning, but distant.
Yet, there was something wrong. Something fractured.
She opened her mouth, but nothing came at first.
Then came the whisper—low, wavering, unfamiliar yet familiar.
She swallowed. The words felt heavy. Like speaking to them would make this moment real.
Her voice was small, edged with disbelief.
"…Is that… you?"