From Solthia's final moments in this world, to the weeks following his own desperate survival, Artorias had never stopped wondering what her final words were meant to mean.
He had spent hours, days, entire weeks pondering and questioning it, but he came out of it with the same result over and over again.
Nothing about what she had done made sense.
In the beginning he had simply assumed she had gained a deeper understanding of her own abilities, that she had found a new aspect of her powers which allowed her to transfer the spark which made her faster onto others.
He had assumed it would only last for a limited time.
That theory crumbled like the ruins around him as weeks passed and he could still feel that same bolt of lightning trapped in his chest, burning with the need to be used.
At first, he had been content with ignoring it.
In a death zone such as this, where every ounce of strength mattered, using an ability which would only cause his body further harm felt like a foolish idea.
It wasn't until he tried listening to his soul, tried delving deeper into its secrets to receive some answers that he began to gain some understanding.
As much as it hurt his pride to admit, it wasn't his bodies' instincts which had saved him, but the very lightning trapped in his chest, surging with power so intense, it lit every pain receptor in his body, as if liquid fire was burning through his veins.
It had saved his life, working independently from his body and soul as if it had a will of its own.
Whilst reliving Solthia's final moments had been painful, it had also been insightful.
Because through it all, he had gained a semblance of understanding.
Though in reality it was more akin to a very flimsy theory.
Because, what if Solthia hadn't gained a deeper understanding of her ability, but his?
His talent, granted to him by his first Soul Core, was after all the ability to step through shadows, to be consumed by them.
Like he said, it was a flimsy theory, one with no true evidence and created by his own breaking mind trying to come up with some sort of desperate answer, but for now, in its weird way, it made sense to him.
Nothing had fundamentally changed about his soul or ability, but something had happened for him to integrate Solthia's first talent into his body so thoroughly.
Either way, it was a theory that made no sense, but it was the only one he had left.
It was a theory made out of loss and guilt, a theory which made his mind believe he still carried a part of Solthia with him. In a way, he did, but it was as twisted and cruel as the world around him.
It was a belief that he was happy with fooling himself was real.
Even if he knew, deep in his mind, that it was his own way of coping with her loss.
The final abomination of the hive mind fell to Seirios, his fist pulverizing its body with the force of a train and sending its body skipping through the broken street.
"Was that really necessary?" Artorias couldn't help but ask, coming to stand next to his cousin with a tired sigh.
His body hurt, but it felt good to release some of the tension his mind had been building on the swarm of brutes.
Seirios grinned at him, revealing his sharp canines.
"Sixty-two." He stated, ignoring his question.
"Twenty-four," Artorias replied, rolling eyes at the other teen.
"Ha! I win!"
"Pavo," Seirios scowled at the insult, flicking his katana of any remaining blood that still clung to it. "Did you get any injuries?"
"No, I didn't get touched even once." He puffed his chest out, a smirk on his face as he pointed his thumb at himself.
'He must know this only makes me see him as more of a peacock.' Artorias couldn't help but think, raising an amused eyebrow at his cousin.
As if sensing his thoughts, Seirios scowled again.
"Shut up."
"I didn't say anything."
"You were thinking plenty," Seirios grumbled, pushing his blade back into its sheath.
Snorting, Artorias followed his cousin's example, flicking the blade clean of any blood but keeping it steadily in his hands.
Using Solthia's blessing had hurt his body, but his healing factor was already beginning to repair any of the internal injuries he may have suffered.
"Let's go." With the abominations dead and streets growing eerily silent once more, neither of them hesitated to leave.
Minutes passed as they walked through countless streets, their singular goal of finding the marked police station growing closer with every step.
But…
'Somethings wrong.'
It was becoming too quiet, a peculiar thing when abominations lurked in every corner of the city, biting and tearing into each other with so much vigor it could be heard for miles.
Even without the enhanced sense which Seirios was blessed with. Artorias could feel the air around them slowly shifting, growing stale and more oppressive by the second. Soon enough it had grown too uncomfortable to ignore.
'Something's hunting us.'
The thought didn't leave him with much comfort. Especially when he considered that whatever it was, had left all the abominations they had killed before and had instead focused its attention on them.
Which meant it either enjoyed the hunt, or his previous theory on the brute swarm was correct, and they really were too vile to consume, even for other Fallen Spawn.
He glanced at his cousin, a silent question burning in his eyes.
Seirios caught the glance, his head subtly moving down. Whilst his body was still as relaxed as before, his eyes had hardened.
Moving his hand as if to scratch at his chest, he pointed his index finger to their left and his thumb to his body.
'So behind us and to the left.'
Narrowing his eyes, Artorias very pointedly looked at his shadows.
Seirios hesitated for only a moment, before giving him a wordless nod.
Moving his eyes across the street, he found a shadow, hidden behind a destroyed van parked on the side. Mentally preparing himself, he gave Seirios one final glance before his next step pulled him into the shadows.
Wordlessly appearing behind the van an instant later, he tilted his head around the corner of its body. Stilling his own body, he let the shadows of the world wrap around him, summoning his shroud.
'Found you,'
Following them was an abomination he had never seen before, and one that suddenly made him feel very nervous.
Its body was lanky and lean, resembling a rather large serpent, or it would have, if it didn't have limbs. On the lower half of its body, two large flat feet sat, no doubt holding the power to kill something with a singular kick, and on its chest, were two smaller hands, each decorated with terribly long claws made for piercing and ripping.
Following its body down, it had a long tail that was covered in the same thick mossy green scales as the rest of its body, ending with what looked like a morning star attached to its tip.
From that tip, Artorias could see some sort of cloudy gas leaving it and trailing up and around its body in a similar fashion to his own shroud, leading to its back, where two cloudy, almost fluffy and soft, large wings prominently sat.
Even with its back facing away from him, he could see ridges of gold spikes sitting proudly, each as sharp as the last and long enough to be considered a spear, flowing through its head and to its tail.
But it was its head that truly caught his attention.
An amalgamation that reminded him of the stories he had read as a child, deep in the night and with sleep in his eyes. The monster which the Greeks had made stories and songs about, the creature given the title of chimera.
With a head and mane of a lion, curved horns of a goat, the amber eyes of an owl, an eagle's beak and two small tusks on its lower jaw. The side of its head was framed by a stripped headcloth of gold, which hid its mane.
When he had first laid eyes on the mythical creature, his sixth sense, an innate instinct all humans were gifted with from birth, had spiked, warning him of the danger of his action.
It had warned him to look away, to fall into the shadows and run.
He wished he had listened to it.
Because now, even with his shroud hiding him…
…It was looking at him.
Amber eyes met those of dull gold.
The abomination, this mythical creature of legend, seemed to stare directly into his soul, before tilting its head in what could be considered a curious gesture. Even with a beak for a mouth, he could have sworn it was slowly beginning to smirk.
Then, it did something that made his entire body break out into goose bumps.
Filled with nothing but creeping terror, Artorias watched, his entire body frozen and his breath trapped in his chest.
A bead of sweat fell from his chin to the ground beneath him.
As it lifted one of its small, clawed hands, and gave him a slow wave.
Its eyes crinkling into a mockery of a smile.