How Would you Prefer to Die
Rachel moved forward, her footfalls silent. Cramnal walked beside her, and magic spun around them like layered shields—Her sparking rainbow energy flickering like lightning across glass, then pulsing as if waiting, anticipating, his brown and grey strands pulsing thick and heavy as if woven from molten crystal.
From Cramnal's side, two forms peeled away. They had his face, his shoulders, but their skin was pale with an odd rainbow sheen. Wordlessly, they tilted their heads to the ceiling. Doors appeared where none had been, and the copies glided upward into the higher floors.
"Marce," Rachel called, her voice soft but cutting. "Come out. Let's talk."
The floor seemed empty. Too empty. From above, below, and to the right, she caught the faint echoes of fighting. She smiled faintly. Rebecca would have released only S-level beings, of course. Predictable as always.
A man's voice slid down the corridor, harsh and cold:
"Rachel, you're not here enough to be Milana. Anis should take her place. Allow this, and let go of retaliation."
Rachel froze mid-step. Her eyes widened, then narrowed into a confused frown. Had he lost his mind? The realm alone decided such matters. Forcing the succession could tear their world apart.
Cramnal's pace quickened. His urgency pressed into her through their bond, a sharp hum beneath her ribs.
'Best not to speak to him anymore, Rach. He's clearly insane.'
'Agreed.' Their intent flowing the Antrunie soul tie like water along a brisk stream.
They moved. Rachel thrust her hand toward the right, wind and lightning ripping through the doors. Screams erupted, then silence as flesh seared and bodies collapsed. Cramnal mirrored her, projectiles of terra firma streaking from him as mental energies sought out minds to destroy on their left. They hit with such force that the power bloomed outward to blister the walls around them, and the men inside were flung against them, bones cracking on impact before blood spattered across the corridor, some screaming from unknown mental terrors as they held their heads in agony.
Then—an answering wave of raw energy surged toward them.
Rachel raised her hand, casually, effortlessly, as if it was of no true concern, summoning a wall of song, the music vibrating with ethereal resonance. Cramnal's brown and grey threads wove tightly into the sound. The coalesced forming a shimmering double barrier before the two.
The shockwave struck, the sound wall shuddering. Blue fire poured down the corridor toward them, consuming air itself. The brown and grey-song barrier rippled under the assault, cracks splitting through the harmonies. Then, with a final twist of Cramnal's fingers, the two walls merged—color and song fusing into a radiant tide. It surged outward like liquid light, smashing through the flames, swallowing them whole. The building groaned and shivered as if it would collapse.
Rachel tilted her head, listening. She reached into the air as if pulling threads from an unseen loom. Her fingers closed around something invisible—then pulled gently until a pale arm appeared. A fair-skinned redhead with green eyes emerged, trembling, her body flecked with ash and bruises. Rachel guided her toward Cramnal, with a gentle push of magic, he opened a new doorway, kissed the redhead's forehead, and sent her inside to safety.
Anis was now out of danger, for the two of them, it no longer mattered if the entire building fell down.
A scream bellowed from deeper in the corridor—low, guttural, and soaked in rage. Struns arrived at their side just as it echoed. He frowned, but Rachel quipped lightly:
"Calm down, Struns. You know Anis doesn't want frown lines on your face."
He smirked. "Excuse me, Anis loves me unconditionally."
It was true.
But his face sobered. "How is she?"
Rachel's gaze flicked to Cramnal. His jaw tightened, then eased.
"She's alive. Exhausted. They tried sacrificial rituals—probably to twist the realm itself."
Struns fists tightened at his side. Had they been that late? Small silver growths began to lift from his skin, glinting in the artificial light of the hall, then stopped and retracted as Rachel shot him a glance and began to speak.
Her eyes had darkened until they were bottomless black. "Calm yourself Struns, we can not lose you to that right now. I will handle Marce and you will feel satisfied."
She stepped forward, voice rising.
"Marce! You know what you did would never succeed. Who asked you to do this? Who are you serving this time? I know the Conglomerate has not fully lost all moral fortitude. "
His reply came like a sneer:
"Things change, Rachel. You can't be all-powerful forever. Either the realm allows you to die, or you'll rot like your grandmother."
Rachel almost laughed. She didn't usually indulge the ravings of the insane—but she needed time.
'Rebecca. Release what's beneath this building?
A pause. Then Rebecca's intent came across, tight and grim:
'Are you sure Rach, it has become more and more dangerous as time has passed, I am pretty sure we can not control it.'
Rachel's lips curved into a deadly smile.
"Good. Release it. Then get over here."
The walls groaned, the air thickened, and for an instant the entire building seemed to hold its breath.
Then came the sound—an eerie, ethereal scream, high-pitched enough to pinch the ear, low enough to rattle bone. It echoed from the depths below, sharp and hollow, as if a soul were being scraped against glass.
Rachel smiled as she sensed Marce's fear.
"You are the one that evoked her memory. Do not shy away when Lanncey answers your call."
"Are you insane?! How could you release that thing. Your grandmother is dead and that thing resides in her husk."
Rachel scoffed. "Moments ago you spoke as if my grandmother was of no consequence, why wallow in fear at her call now?"
The building shook, windows rattling, moats of dust falling around them, then the magical barrier activated, holding the building together and preventing it from falling.
Rebecca's spirit beings began appearing around them in the hall, Rebecca rising from the floor beside Rachel, her red and purple spirits still flanking her.
The floor rippled beneath them, at the same time the building's magical wards flared again, protecting it from collapse.
"Come Marce. There is nowhere to go, either you speak with us, or you speak with her, either way...
"Today... you will die."