Life Delusion Chapter 9: Chapter IX: Return

Read chapter 9 of Life Delusion by The_lite on NovelPedia.

“We have to move now… If we wait any longer, Aqua will walk straight into their trap—” “I already said it. When I give the order, you follow it. No matter when. No matter how.” “But—” “Rose. Wait.” She went quiet. Aqua — At That Very Moment The girl kept coming closer. Aqua stood frozen, his eyes on her face. It didn’t make sense. She looked exactly like Rose. Not almost. Not similar. Exactly. Rose was dead. He’d known that longer than he could stand to count. His feet moved anyway. One of the demons behind him spoke, voice tight. “My lord — it could be a trap.” He didn’t answer. He stopped when only a few paces separated them. The battlefield went quiet around him. She stopped too. He kept looking at her face, even knowing better, even feeling the wrongness of it somewhere beneath his ribs — because some part of him had spent so long waiting for this that it didn’t care anymore what was real. Then she lunged. His hand came up on instinct. And stopped. He couldn’t do it. Even as her first blow landed and sent him staggering back, he couldn’t raise a hand against that face. His body took the damage. Something else came apart entirely, quieter and worse, and the two had nothing to do with each other. She didn’t hesitate. Each strike came harder. By the time the gods appeared at the edge of the battlefield, Aqua could barely stay upright. They moved without urgency. No rush. No improvisation. They had built this moment and they’d been waiting inside it. The incantation spread across the field. Light gathered at the gods’ hands, heavy and suffocating, and with every word Aqua felt something essential being pried loose from inside him. The God of Wrath’s voice cut through the noise. Quiet. Final. “This ends here.” Aqua’s knees buckled. He caught himself, barely. He still didn’t fight back — not because he’d chosen surrender, but because the one thing he might have fought for was standing in front of him, wearing the wrong expression. “So that’s why you kept me out of it.” The God of Wrath dropped. The God of Love stood where he’d been a moment before, looking at each of them in turn. Whatever warmth usually lived in her face had gone somewhere else. “Is this what you call justice?” A beat of silence. She crossed to Aqua. As she passed, Rose’s body crumpled quietly to the ground. “How—” one of the gods started. “How were you controlling her without a spell? That’s not possible—” “A fair question.” The God of War hit the ground before anyone could turn around fast enough. The Grand Advisor stepped forward. He looked like the same person they’d known, without the performance. “She created that body herself,” he said. “That’s your answer.” The God of Wrath was already forcing himself back upright, jaw set. The Grand Advisor didn’t look at him. “He was right,” he said. “It ends here.” Then Rose’s body began to rise. Slowly. And this time her eyes were hers — not hollow, not aimed at him like a weapon. Just hers, blinking through confusion and something rawer underneath. “…Aqua.” She crossed the distance and held on. He caught her without thinking, arms pulling her in even as the ground tried to take him. He was bleeding from more places than he’d kept count of. That registered somewhere distant and unimportant. He pressed his face against her hair. His shoulders shook once, badly, and he didn’t try to stop it. She was warm. She was here. He held on tighter. Not afraid of the gods still standing twenty feet away. Afraid of what happened if he moved wrong. If this turned out to be one more thing taken from him the moment he believed in it. “Did you really think you could walk away that easily, Grand Advisor?” The God of Wrath stood at his full height again. He began to chant. The air changed. Rose went still in Aqua’s arms. The God of Life had already gone pale. For a half-second he just stared — then he ran. “Stop—” His voice cracked. “Don’t—” He threw himself toward the God of Wrath, trying to reach him before the spell could finish.