The Shepherdess had come out in full regalia.

Blue bonnet hat, blue ribbon tie, blue pleated skirt, blue combat boots. White button-up shirt, white stockings, white gloves. Pink eyes gleaming, framed by blonde hair. A black crook, tossed from hand to hand like a marching baton.

And then there was Niain. Black hair, black cloak, black eyes, black soul. His monochrome was unbalanced.

"What's wrong?" she asked, cocking her head at him. "You don't look too happy to see me."

Niain said nothing.

"You piggybacked your operation off of Dragan Hadrien's," the Shepherdess went on. "Is it that surprising that I piggybacked my operation off of yours?"

Niain said nothing.

"You people really are out in force today, though," the Shepherdess planted a hand against her hip. "Zephyr Pandershi brought in Samson Rhodes with the Lovers, right? I'm assuming that's your exit strategy. I'm sure McCoy's working diligently somewhere, too. Where's Smith?"

Niain said nothing.

"Hm. You're awfully quiet today," the Shepherdess blinked. "Are you feeling okay?"

Niain smiled.

"Haha," he said. "What words do you expect me to waste on someone who's going to die here?"

The Shepherdess smiled right back.

"Haha," she said. "True enough, true enough."

The two of them laughed together for a moment, the quiet sound echoing through Ultraviolet Tower's maintenance web. Through the tunnels, across the catwalks. Even footsteps would have drowned it out -- this was the laughter of ghosts.

Then they both moved to murder.

By the time the sonic boom of movement had sounded out, the first clash had concluded. The Shepherdess was already on the other side of Niain, while Niain had only managed to lift his right arm -- or, at least, his right stump. Niain's severed arm fell onto the ground beside him with a dull thump, but blood sprayed neither from the fallen limb nor the clean-cut stump. Instead, a viscous black substance like ink just slowly oozed out.

Niain frowned, casually turning his stump this way and that to inspect his injury. The gesture was as casual as someone looking at dirt under their nails. There was no trace of pain on his face at all.

Clicking his tongue, he squatted down and picked up the arm, sticking it back onto his body and screwing it in like he was putting a machine back together. With that done, he scratched his index finger against his cheek as if that hand hadn't been on the ground a few seconds ago. Only then did he turn to look back at the Shepherdess.

She'd been patiently waiting for him, pink Aether still crackling around the nails she'd used to cut off his arm. With her level of infusion, body parts were on the same level as the finest blades. That same smile was still on her lips.

"You opened with that move both times before, too," Niain noted. "Do you not understand that losing an arm isn't that big of a deal for me?"

The Sherpherdess held up her index finger. "It's a symbolic gesture," she explained. "The clenched fist is the sovereign symbol of the Supremacy, you understand. So taking away your arm and forcing your open palm to touch the ground establishes you as being beneath the Supremacy in every way."

Niain rolled his eyes. "Oh my god," he groaned.

"Besides," the Shepherdess went on. "With my speed, I'm free to use you as an art piece at my leisure."

That seemed to cheer Niain up a bit. He smiled again. "Are you sure?"

Suddenly, blood sprayed from the Shepherdess' wrist -- a wound finally making itself known.

She frowned, eyes widening just a little as she looked down at the bleeding cut. "Oh?"

At the same time the Shepherdess had struck Niain, she herself had been hit by something. That hardly seemed possible. Niain definitely hadn't been able to move in the time before she hit him -- and besides, she was confident from past experience that Niain's body, freakish as it was, wasn't capable of matching her speed. Chronodissonance was already working on the wound, reversing it out of existence, but it was the principle of the thing.

Still smiling, Niain cocked his head, his oversized cloak making the gesture look almost childlike. "Are you surprised?" he asked playfully.

"Of course I'm surprised," the Shepherdess glared at Niain like he was dirt under her shoe. "That's why I said 'oh'."

"That's a rather sour expression, haha," Niain put a hand to his chin. "You were in such a good mood a minute ago, too. Were you looking forward to killing me that much? Maybe you were so eager that you failed to notice my preparations? Even if I wasn't expecting to encounter you here and now, it was a given you'd be coming after me at some point in the near future, after all."

The Shepherdess' eyes flicked down to Niain's feet -- no, to his shadow, stretching out behind him. There was a strange shine to it, she noticed now. Not the shade cast by an object, but dark liquid like a swimming puddle, following in Niain's wake.

"I see, I see," the Shepherdess tapped her fist against her palm. "So that's where you were, Smith."

A ripple ran through the 'shadow'. "Silence, witch!"

"I heard the Crown vanished from their hospital bed back on Azum-Ha," the Shepherdess nodded down at Smith, ignoring his insult as she kept talking to Niain directly.

Suddenly, there was a flash of pink Aether -- and an instant later, the Shepherdess was strolling casually across the next catwalk over. Niain matched her relaxed pace, the two carefully observing each other across the gap. Smith simply growled as he trailed after his master.

"I'm guessing your pet got a snack, then?" the Shepherdess slung her crook over her shoulder as she walked. "Yeah, that would make sense. The Crown's, uh, The Crown -- it allows the user to forcibly enhance an attribute of themselves until they exceed everyone else in the immediate area. It's limited based on the power of the user, but I suppose that would let a person start to approach my level of speed. Not close enough to actually match me, though."

Another pink flash. Niain stopped walking and leaned over the side of the catwalk, looking up to where the Shepherdess was now sitting on some protruding piping, her legs swinging over the abyss.

"You must have applied some additional conditions to enhance the Crown's effects further," the Shepherdess went on. "I suppose a range limit… yes, if Smith has to stay in the area directly marked by your shadow, I guess that could work. It could boost the Crown enough to just barely allow Smith to react to my attacks. You've basically turned that pet of yours into an anti-me defense device. That's not bad."

As if to confirm her theory, another ripple went through Niain's shadow -- and deep within it, the vague symbol of a crown bubbled in place.

Niain frowned as the Shepherdess finished her monologue. "I already know all that," he sighed. "Of course I already know all that. I'm the one who did it. Why are you explaining it to me? I know."

The Shepherdess gestured with a hand. "It's altruism on my part. I don't want you dying full of regrets, thinking I managed to beat you without even needing to figure out the trick behind your strategy. You can thank me by giving me a free hit."

Niain cast his gaze to the catwalk on the next floor down. He casually pointed to indicate it. "You know," he said. "If someone was standing down there, they'd be able to see up your skirt right now."

The Shepherdess wrinkled her nose in distaste as she looked down at Niain. "Gross. Why would you even say that?"

"It's just a thought, haha."

Flash.

Suddenly behind Niain, the Shepherdess unleashed five lightning-fast chops, strong enough to shatter steel, faster than Niain could possibly react -- and five times, Smith reacted on his master's behalf. The shadow lashed out as a single bladed tendril, parrying the Shepherdess' strikes and sending sparks raining down again and again. Unlike the first time, when Smith had only been able to counter after the fact, this time he was able to prevent the attacks from reaching Niain in the first place.

The Shepherdess whistled as she took a step back. "Wow. You learn fast, don't you, Smith?"

Niain didn't bother to turn in her direction again. "You don't need to reply to her, Smith. I doubt a conversation between you two would be particularly fulfilling anyway, haha. She's just trying to probe for weaknesses right now."

The Shepherdess laughed haughtily, putting a hand before her mouth. "You've barely managed to cobble together a defense that can hold up against my most casual and direct attacks." Her hand fell limp at her side, and the light died from her pink eyes -- replaced by dull murder. "Don't flatter yourself by thinking you're an enemy I need to probe for weaknesses against."

Niain took in a sharp breath.

It was a single smooth motion that could not be perceived by human eyes. The Shepherdess raised her crook, pointed it at Niain's back, charged it with accelerated time… and fired.

That crook was no mere farming instrument. It was a disguise for the Stick, one of the first prototype Aether Armaments -- along with the Rope -- that Granba the Godsmith had developed.

In terms of ability, it was fairly basic. It charged up force, then released it. The charging rate was so slow it was ordinarily useless -- but when combined with the Shepherdess' Chronodissonance, which allowed her to accelerate time for an infused object, it became an implement of absolute destruction.

It took slightly longer for the Shepherdess to charge the Stick and fire it than it did for her to just attack with her hand. That fact, and that fact alone, saved Niain's life. It meant that his last-second leap just barely managed to get him out of the strike zone.

The Stick devoured the space beneath him, utterly erasing the catwalk from reality.

As the Shepherdess adjusted the angle of the Stick, preparing it to fire again upon Niain up in the air, Niain readied his next move. Right now, he had to increase his mobility in order to survive. Otherwise, he'd die before he could touch the ground again.

Angra Mainyu.

Ahura Mazda.

In Niain's left hand, a black void deepened.

In Niain's right hand, a white sphere bloomed.

Niain's Aether abilities were relatively simple. With Angra Mainyu, he could break physical objects down to the atom and individually record them. With Ahura Mazda, he could manifest those atoms again in whatever arrangement he wished.

Basically, so long as he understood the structure of something, Niain could recreate it. Weapons, shields, even living things… the possibilities were limitless. Niain's perpetually-young body was just one such fruit of Ahura Mazda's garden.

For now, though, he needed to move.

Black Aether flowed from deep within Ahura Mazda, forming a living harness upon Niain's back. Technically, this thing was an insect, with thin spindly legs that wrapped themselves around his torso to secure it in place. The massive leather wings that burst out from the back of the harness, however, were anything but insectoid. With a single mighty flap, they launched Niain downwards -- allowing him to avoid the Stick's second blast of force.

Flap, flap, flap.

Each time those wings crashed against the air, Niain was launched in another direction, as if he was bouncing against the sky itself. For the Shepherdess -- who was standing in place and calmly observing -- he looked like nothing less than a ribbon of black light, zipping around the section of the catwalk that still remained. The Stick was still raised -- the Shepherdess was awaiting her next chance of a good shot. Careless fire would only serve to give Niain an opening.

Yes… an opening. That was exactly what he needed right now.

The trick he'd developed with Smith and the Crown was meaningless against ranged attacks -- therefore, he needed to fight in such a way that the Shepherdess was forced to enter melee range to eliminate him.

The first time, his shadow had been able to counter after the fact.

The second time, his shadow had been able to block her strikes.

The third time, his shadow would preempt her attack, and deal a lethal blow.

He had faith that Smith would be able to meet his expectations. They were friends, after all. He wouldn't allow it otherwise.

But all of that only held true given the right conditions. An attack delivered from close range, using the Shepherdess' own body. His opponent wasn't a complete idiot -- she understood the danger Smith presented to her as well. She'd do her best to eliminate Niain from a distance from now on, especially considering she had the perfect tool for the job.

In short, Niain had to get rid of the Stick.

Ultraviolet Tower was in chaos.

The building had been in lockdown since the Sheshanaga had arrived, with staff coordinating the response and directing forces on the ground. The building's internal security needed all hands on deck, too -- the Tower was housing numerous high-value prisoners at the moment, along with the always invaluable Ultraviolet records. Allowing the enemy to get their hands on those was the worst case scenario.

Which was exactly why Ultraviolet Tower was in chaos.

The external sensors had gone off, and there were signs of a battle currently in progress in the maintenance web. Most of the surveillance in the area had been quickly destroyed, but from what had been observed the conflict seemed to be taking place between two high-level combatants. Aether-usage was a given. As such, one of the most experienced Aether-equipped teams on-site, Harlequin Squad, had been deployed to respond.

The four-man squad, clad in green-yellow combat armour, skated across the white floor as they proceeded to the external hatch. Heavy plasma rifles were clutched in their hands, their eyes concealed behind advanced cybernetic visors. At their considerable speed, they would reach the scene of the battle in about ten seconds.

SQUAD LEADER

MARZEDON KRIS

Ability: "Travelling Caravan"

Allows the user to designate a group of up to six people including himself as a 'caravan', conferring upon all members a set of passive movement-based abilities. These consist of:

Skating effect allowing rapid travel upon floors, walls, and ceilings.

Acceleration by ten times when submerged in water.

Skin-range barrier deflecting air pressure to increase speed of movement.

SQUAD ANALYST

CHAR DEL UTHADORNE

Ability: "Thousand Eye"

Allows the user to 'zoom in' their vision with a tremendous amount of detail and clarity, to the point where the atomic structure of a target can be observed from a distance.

SQUAD MEDIC

KERTAF RISK

Ability: "Soul Stitches"

Phantasmal stitches that the user can apply to a target. The target cannot die until the Soul Stitches are removed, or the user perishes. Although the consciousness of the target may cease to exist, the body will continue to function regardless of damage.

SQUAD GUNNER

HULK CLOVER

Ability: "I Am A Gun"

Allows the user to transform his prosthetic right arm into any ranged weapon that the user has previously operated.

As they approached the hatch leading to the battlefield, Char tapped away at a script on his arm, opening it remotely. Rifles readied, the Harlequin Squad skated out into the crisp evening air.

The deaths began exactly one second later.

Marzedon Kris perished as a result of reflex.

The instant the Shepherdess saw him, out of the very corner of her eye, she whipped out a hand and tossed a knife in his direction -- accelerating its flight with Chronodissonance. She couldn't allow anyone to see her in action and live to tell the tale; silencing witnesses was as intrinsic to her as breathing. The knife was bolstered by a level of infusion optimized over a thousand years of training. Marzedon, for all his military experience, had lived a mere sixty-three years.

There was no contest.

Armour and flesh and bone and brain earnestly parted before the throwing knife, spraying the contents of Marzedon's self across the wall behind him. With Chronodissonance's time reversal, she was easily able to return the knife to her grasp -- and toss it out two more times, dispatching Char del Uthadorne and Kertaf Risk too. All of this happened before anyone could even react to the commander's death.

It was only when the knife returned to the Shepherdess' hand a third time that Niain registered that an opening had appeared.

A black mass rushed down towards the Shepherdess -- and, ready, she whirled around and smashed it out of the air with a kick. The mass hadn't been Niain, however. It was a vaguely humanoid lump of what looked like graphite, a rapidly cobbled-together black mannequin.

At the same time the Shepherdess destroyed the decoy, Niain reached his real target: Hulk Clover, the last surviving member of Harlequin Squad.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

With a single swoop, he snatched him off the ground, carrying him off on his chaotic flight. Niain's speed wasn't such that it was impossible to react, though -- Hulk went to slam his metal elbow back into Niain's face with speed and force enough to shatter a skull. Niain had been ready for that, though.

Smith lunged out from behind Niain, binding his liquid form around Hulk's arm and holding it in place -- giving Niain the opportunity to leisurely pierce Hulk's temple with his fingers.

Ahura Mazda.

The unfortunate Pugnant's eyes rolled up into his skull as Niain manifested his agents, injecting them directly into Hulk's brain.

"Excellent timing," Niain said happily. "You seem like a man who knows how to handle a firearm. There's a woman I need you to shoot with that gun of yours. From now on, you're going to live on as my turret. Understand?"

The centipedes had eaten their way through Hulk's childhood memories, and were laying their eggs in his sense of self.

"K-Kill me…" Hulk choked on his own saliva. "Kill me…!"

"If you're good," Niain lied.

And all of this while in flight.

Still moving at full speed to avoid the Shepherdess' aim, Niain dropped Hulk off on a neighbouring catwalk -- and his new friend immediately got to work. Transforming his prosthetic arm into a massive gatling gun, he fired wildly towards the Shepherdess, the hail of infused bullets shredding everything in their path. Well, nearly everything.

Pink Aether coiled around the Shepherdess' hand -- and with a constant blur of movement, she struck the bullets out of the air one after another before they could reach her. With one hand, she deflected the bullets. In her other hand, she still held the Stick… but she showed no sign of aiming it towards Hulk.

That was wise of her.

Right now, all Hulk's existence amounted to was suppressive fire. Niain's aim in deploying him had been to bait the Shepherdess into retaliating with the Stick. If she was taking a moment to use it against Hulk, that was a moment she couldn't use it against Niain. It would give Niain the opening he needed to get in close again.

Such a shame she wasn't falling for it.

This was the third time Niain and the Shepherdess had clashed in battle, and each time they had grown more accustomed to the way the other party fought. The first time, in Niain's youth, he had barely escaped with his life. The second time, during Kadmon's Dawn Contest, it had been much more even. Niain refused to have to prepare for a fourth encounter. This ended today.

Right now, she was still laser-focused on the threat that Niain presented… so Niain would just have to spread that focus even more.

Ahura Mazda.

A torrent of bat-like creatures poured out of Niain's black Aether, filling the space within a few seconds. They had little in the way of brains, their chaotic flight-paths the result of random misfiring neurons than anything else, but that was fine. In fact, that was better. The Shepherdess would have to deal with the carnivorous creatures as they approached her -- if she couldn't easily predict their movements, it meant she'd need to divide her attention to dispatch them.

Hulk Clover firing from one side without end, the swarm of bats slicing through the air like living smog -- and Niain, literally waiting in the wings. Even with her time manipulation, there was only so much that could be done at once. The Shepherdess couldn't deal with all three threats simultaneously.

No, Niain thought. Make that four.

As he passed beneath the catwalk's remains, Niain brought out Angra Mainyu -- and scraped away the piece of metal that still connected it to Ultraviolet Tower. The catwalk, and the Shepherdess standing on it, began to plummet. Hulk. Bats. Niain. Gravity. The Shepherdess would have to let one threat through to deal with the rest.

Or so Niain, in a moment of overconfidence, believed.

His wings whipped though the air. The bullets zoomed forth. The bats screeched. The catwalk fell.

And the Shepherdess locked eyes with him.

"Chronodissonance," she said calmly. "This time is mine."

The Shepherdess hadn't needed to speak the name of her ability out loud for centuries. This was a demonstration.

With one hand, she blasted a wave of pink Aether towards Hulk Clover -- and her infusion easily overpowered his own, freezing him and every single bullet in time. Hulk stood still like a statue, gun-arm still raised, frenzied eyes staring into nothing. His bullets hung in the air, light glinting off of them like snowflakes.

With the other hand, she twitched a finger -- and another wave of Aether went out in all directions to capture all of the bats in its infusion. Time was reversed for their existences, and as one they flowed back into the white sphere Niain held, like a toilet being flushed.

As for gravity…

Right before she fell, the Shepherdess had stopped time for her boots alone. As such, walking on empty air was no great feat for her. The catwalk plummeted out of sight entirely, leaving her behind.

Niain had stopped his rapid flight. He just hovered there, kept aloft by occasional flaps of his wings, his eyes wide in disbelief. It was probably the most genuine emotion he'd displayed in the last few years.

The Shepherdess smiled in appreciation at the sight of it, and leisurely raised the Stick to point up at him.

"It looks like you've figured it out," she said casually. "We're not on the same level at all. Look how much effort you had to put in to make a farce like this look convincing."

Niain narrowed his eyes.

"If you have any last words," the Shepherdess went on. "I'm willing to hear and remember them. Your existence will live on only inside my memory, Niain. That's the greatest feat a creature like you can hope for."

Niain said nothing.

"Well," the Shepherdess smiled. "If you want to disappear completely, that's fine too. In fact, that's probably better. Goodbye."

Niain fell.

The Shepherdess blinked. "Eh?"

Right when the Shepherdess had been about to wipe Niain from reality, the winged harness holding onto him had suddenly released its grip -- allowing him to fall into the abyss below. The blast from the Stick destroyed the remaining creation entirely, but Niain himself had already fallen out of the target range. Frowning, the Shepherdess followed the dot that was Niain as he continued to fall out of sight.

Damnit!

She'd neglected to consider their objectives here. While the Shepherdess was here to kill Niain at any cost, the same wasn't necessarily true for him. His goal was to get inside Ultraviolet Tower, retrieve something, and then escape Serendipity afterwards. If he could kill the Shepherdess as part of that, he'd do so happily, but that didn't mean he'd throw himself at an enemy he didn't think he could beat and risk losing everything.

He wasn't just falling, then -- he was descending towards a lower level of Ultraviolet Tower. He intended to go around the Shepherdess and complete his mission that way. What an impudent brat.

Chronodissonance!

The Shepherdess released the time-freeze on her boots, allowing herself to fall after Niain -- and then accelerated her fall to boost her pursuit.

Her Aether tic of reversed aging was beginning to make itself known. When the battle had begun, she'd been in her preferred age-range -- mid-twenties -- but it was unmistakably a teenager who was pursuing Niain now. Her hair, growing longer, billowed behind her -- or rather above her -- like a cape as she fell. She'd need to speed up her aging the next time she had a moment, unless she wanted to be throwing punches with Niain as an eight-year-old.

As she closed in, the Shepherdess reflected. When was it that she'd first decided that Niain had to die?

It hadn't been their first meeting, when Niain had hinted he knew her true identity. It wasn't as if he was the first, anyway. Throughout the lifespan of the Supremacy, there had been a few people who'd figured out she wasn't exactly who she said she was, even if Niain was a bit more bold about it. So long as they kept their mouths shut until the day they died, that was fine.

Nor had it been when she'd found out about the secret Darkstar organization. A Supreme Heir plotting against their Supreme wasn't anything that unusual in and of itself. In fact, the system somewhat encouraged it.

No. It was when the Shepherdess had discovered the true mission of Darkstar, their true target -- not the Supreme, or even the Supremacy, but the very structure of galactic civilization itself. The bedrock upon which her life's work -- and Azez's wish -- rested.

That was when she'd become certain.

That was when she'd truly turned her eyes to this stain called Niain.

That was when she'd decided that he couldn't be allowed to live -- no matter what.

And, at this moment, that resolve was exactly what Niain was counting on.

Right before she reached him, Niain whirled around in mid-air to face her -- and with his Ahura Mazda, he manifested a dark web of black silk to latch onto the nearby scaffolding and stop his fall. The Shepherdess' eyes widened. Her speed had suddenly been turned against her -- it would take a second for her to switch out of Chronodissonance's acceleration. A second she didn't have.

She entered his range.

Well, she decided. I'll give as good as I get.

As the acceleration began to fade, she pointed the Stick down towards Niain and focused her defensive infusion around Smith's most likely targets, her vital organs. Anything save an instant kill she could just reverse. Everyone here was aware of that -- and so they'd choose their target with that in mind.

Smith was so fast that nobody save the Shepherdess could have perceived his movements. Niain's shadow lashed out from beneath him, writhed through the air towards the Shepherdess' face…

…and then twisted to slash through her wrist instead.

Indeed, Niain was well aware that nothing but an instant kill would serve to put the Shepherdess down. Furthermore, he'd decided that these conditions were no longer favourable for that -- and so he'd had Smith feint and go for a different target altogether. If he couldn't kill the Shepherdess right here and now, he'd at least take away one of her advantages.

As her tendon was cut through and her thumb fell limp…

…the Stick slipped out of the Shepherdess' grasp.

Niain did not miss his chance. With desperate speed and pinpoint infusion, he reached out -- and snatched the ancient Armament out of the air. The Shepherdess reflexively recoiled as the Stick was pointed in her direction -- intellectually, she knew it was useless without Chronodissonance, but the sensation of having one of the most dangerous weapons in the galaxy pointed at your face was not so easily dismissed.

And, of course, there was what it meant to her.

"Your life will go on longer than any of us can imagine," Granba had said, voice deep but kind as he'd sat cross-legged on all four of his legs. "That seems such a lonely path."

"It's one I've chosen," she'd replied softly.

"All the same…" Granba had sniffed -- and then, he'd extended all four of his hands. "I would have you take these tokens. Think of them as badges of office. Hope outlives humans. Carry our hope, and know that those of us who love you exist somewhere in this world still."

Niain smiled.

"Angra… Mainyu."

The Shepherdess watched in muted horror as the Stick crumpled, bent, and vanished into the black void that Niain held. Utterly annihilated from reality, never to return. The work of a careless second.

And, for just a moment, Niain indulged himself.

Niain grinned.

This was not the sedate smile he showed the world, the faux-friendly charm he employed to make people devour each other. No. This expression, this horror visage that stretched across his face, was nothing but pure malice making itself known at last.

Niain's real smile.

He narrowed his eyes in glee as he leaned in, his gaze eager as if keen to absorb every scrap of misery on the Shepherdess' face.

"Oops~" he breathed.

The Shepherdess' eye twitched.

"Bastard!" she screamed, her voice infused to a level that could burst ear-drums.

With monstrous strength, she kicked right off of thin air, slamming her elbow into Niain's chest and ramming the two of them directly into the outer wall of Ultraviolet Tower. Their impact was deep enough to leave a sizable dent -- one that Niain rested in like it was a coffin while the Shepherdess, freezing parts of herself in time and staying aloft, pulled her fist back to complete the burial.

She seethed: "You fucking --"

"Smith," Niain said calmly.

Niain's shadow lashed out like dark lightning, and -- although the Shepherdess had jumped back immediately -- her cleanly-severed tongue still went flying off. As she quickly reversed time to restore it, Niain pulled himself out of the crater. That false serenity of his had already returned in force.

He'd manifested something new with Ahura Mazda, too. Leech-like creatures that latched onto both the soles of his feet and the surface beneath them, allowing him to walk along the outer wall of Ultraviolet Tower without fear of falling. He smiled infuriatingly at her as she glared right back at him.

"Haha," he said, hair and cloak drooping downwards. "That's no good, Ruri. A young lady like yourself shouldn't be using such foul language."

"Get my name out of your filthy mouth," the Shepherdess growled.

Niain cocked his head, frowning as if hurt. "But we've known each for so long, though?"

"An infant who's barely lived a hundred years shouldn't talk to me about time."

Still… 'young lady'. Niain was right about that. The Shepherdess had lost control in that last clash -- and she'd used more Aether than she intended to. Right now, her body couldn't be older than twelve. She clicked her tongue as she raised her fists. Aether infusion was multiplicative -- the weaker her actual body became, the less power she'd be able to exert even when enhanced.

"I've been considering your speed for a little while now," Niain said pleasantly, pulling her out of her considerations as he slowly walked across the wall. "It really is an issue, haha. Last time, you said you were the fastest Aether-user -- I've been looking around, and I really haven't found anyone faster. I had to do all this stuff with Smith to even get a defense system capable of matching you. So I was actually really scared of fighting you, you know? But then I thought it would be better if I just faced my fears."

"You say that," the Shepherdess sneered. "But all you're capable of are petty tricks."

"Petty tricks are the best things humans ever came up with, haha," Niain replied. "That's the sort of level we should have stayed at. But that's for later -- you don't have to worry about that. The point is… instead of thinking of ways to match your speed, maybe it'd be better to think of ways to slow you down? If we're both standing on a flat surface, and all you need to do is run around to get at me, that's a problem for sure. But in a vertical situation like this, where you need to keep falling and unfalling, accelerating and decelerating, just to move around? Well, I think my odds are a little bit better."

He chuckled, putting a hand to his chin as he looked down at her.

"Oh, listen to me," he purred, narrowing his eyes. "Now I'm the one needlessly explaining."

The emotion drained from his face as he stared at her, until his expression was that of a cold machine. A machine recalling a murder it had already completed. It blinked.

"Now," Niain said, his voice an eerie monotone. "How much longer until I can crush your embryo underfoot?"

The Shepherdess moved. Niain moved. Smith moved.

Niain had analyzed the situation correctly. The amount of maneuvering the Shepherdess had to do just to move around gave Smith the edge, if only by a little. The shadow wrapped itself around her waist and slammed her into the wall, burying her in the dent that had been Niain's bed not so long ago.

Smiling softly, Niain stood over her, raising an arm.

"I have been looking forward to this for a very long time."

With a squeak like a mouse, Smith leapt out of his master's shadow and instead wrapped around his waiting hand like a boxing glove. The emblem of the Crown bubbled deep within. When Smith spoke, it was a strained gurgle -- a testament to the difficulty of manipulating someone else's ability.

"Tuning the Crown," Smith forced out. "Aspect of physical strength."

Niain winked --

"Get the door for me, won't you?"

-- and smashed his fist into the Shepherdess' chest, opening up a hole not only in her body, but into Ultraviolet Tower itself.

They were in.

As the Shepherdess flew backwards into this lower level of Ultraviolet Tower, Niain was already in hot pursuit. He knew that this opportunity for victory was a fragile thing indeed. He needed to make as much use of it as he could.

Smith had already returned the Crown to its speed setting, and he went wild as Niain brought him into range once again. As the Shepherdess retreated backwards, the shadow danced, flickering in and out of clarity as it lunged over and over again, each time taking a prize. A tooth, a finger, an eye, an arm, a leg -- the Shepherdess was being disassembled, piece by piece. Pink Aether fuzzed around her dismembered parts as they flew off, hitting the walls and floor of the dark chamber they'd entered.

Finally, the Shepherdess' back hit the wall, and she slid down to the floor. Niain stood over her reduced form, eyes half-lidded in satisfaction.

"It's sad," he said, looming over her. "When your body's this age, it just looks like I'm bullying you. But you must realize you have no right to complain. You're the one who started it, after all."

Niain smirked…

…and then that smirk died as he saw the Shepherdess smirk.

Sparks flew down from above.

This dark, empty room they'd found themselves in wasn't a room at all. The Shepherdess had confirmed that -- sending out an Aether ping to scan the layout using her severed body parts -- and carefully positioned herself with that in mind. In his eagerness to humiliate his hated opponent, Niain had forgotten his focus for a moment.

Indeed, this wasn't a room at all.

It was an elevator shaft.

Chronodissonance.

"Oh," said Niain --

-- right as the elevator slammed down into him like a pilebunker at the speed of sound.

Smoke and dust billowed through the lower levels of Ultraviolet Tower. Needless to say, the elevator shaft had not been designed to withstand an elevator touching down at such an absurd speed. Upon impact with Niain, the resultant destruction had been enough to smash a hole through five entire floors.

And that wasn't the only thing that had been smashed.

Niain slowly inched out of the rubble, pulled along by some thin tendrils from Ahura Mazda and the efforts of the ever-diligent Smith. Needless to say, that attack had broken every bone in his body. For anyone else, it surely would have been fatal. Even with the extent he'd reformatted his body, it had been enough to render him nearly helpless. If the destruction hadn't ended with the two of them being scattered and separated across the floors, he had no doubt the Shepherdess would have finished him off already.

Still… it wasn't as if he was safe.

Limbs twisted the wrong way, splintered to incoherency, his torso a warped art-piece of piercing bones, his skull misaligned vertically, his blinded eyes slowly being pressed like grapes by their own sockets. As he slowly pulled himself forth, he left a trail of black blood in his wake, like a human slug.

"Ruri…" he forced out in a cracking, slurred voice, his malice unmasked for a moment. "Ruriii…"

"My lord!" Smith cried out, his voice anguished. "Your injuries are… oh, misery! What would you have me do, master?! Command your humble servant!"

Niain ignored his shadow's concern. Instead, he twitched a single finger as much as he was able and gasped:

"A… hura… Mazda…!"

A legion came forth.

Spiders to bind and seal the broken skin.

Maggots to harden and reform shattered bones.

Wasps to inject miracle stimulants into what Niain called blood.

Insects upon insects and insects without end, crawling over the injured creature, carefully putting him back together. The hallway was filled with the orchestra of their skittering legs, along with the echoing sounds of gruesome clicks and crunches from Niain's body. What he couldn't repair, he replaced -- erasing it with Angra Mainyu and seamlessly manifesting it with Ahura Mazda. The death rattle pouring from his throat regained its vigor, slowly rising into an unearthly howl.

Niain reflected.

When had he first decided that the Shepherdess had to die?

Well… probably the first time he had laid eyes on her, to be honest. It was the same with most people. When Niain saw something whole and pure, he couldn't help but imagine it broken and desecrated. That was his joy. He lived in a world of insects, and there was no greater pleasure than pulling their wings off.

Ever since he was born, he'd been aware that he was a most evil and unclean thing. He didn't consider it a problem that needed making peace with, though. If his nature was wicked, who was he to whine about it? He would indulge himself and feel happy for doing so. He would sit on a black throne atop the spine of mankind and watch as the world devoured itself.

But still…

He had always thought that he was truly blessed. Blessed with the power and intellect to indulge his desires as he wished -- and because of that, he had been able to lead a fun and happy life. Not everybody was so lucky. So, he had decided -- in return for the luck he'd been granted in this world, he would leave the galaxy a better place than he'd found it. After all of his fun, that seemed like adequate repayment.

And so he'd danced across the galaxy for a hundred years… seeking to spark the burn of a lightless star.

The screech trailed off, and Niain rose to his feet. Planting a hand against his temple, he pushed -- savoring the satisfying click as his skull was once again sealed. There. Fully restored.

He had no doubt the Shepherdess had made a full recovery too -- but they'd clearly been separated by the impact of that last attack. Going after her again straight away was a bad idea. Conditions were no longer in his favour.

How to go about correcting that, then?

The doors at the end of the hallway opened, and a squad of soldiers pointed their rifles at him.

Niain smiled.

Blood and guts and severed parts flew through the air, cleanly and easily reassembling into the body of the Shepherdess.

She let out a sigh of relief. Her rage when Niain had destroyed the Stick had almost put her in a fatal situation. She thought she'd hardened her heart far more than that. Something to work on once this creature was dead, then.

Chronodissonance.

Now that she had a moment to breathe, she took the moment to restore herself to an adult form. To tell the truth, the Shepherdess outfit she wore was something of an Aether Armament itself. It had no combat capabilities, but the size and fitting would adjust to match her body's current age. That way, she wouldn't end up tripping out of her own shoes mid-fight.

Reflexively, she reached for her crook -- then tightened that empty hand into a fist.

Where was he?

In the destruction created by that last attack, she and Niain had been separated. Unless she had his corpse in front of her and was able to incinerate it, she wouldn't believe for a second that he was dead. Her work was not yet done.

Her earlier analysis still held true. While her goal was to kill Niain, his goal was to retrieve something from Ultraviolet Tower and escape. Now that he'd managed to slip out of her sight, there was nothing to stop him from making a run for it.

Nothing but her diligence, that was.

As the Shepherdess strode forth, she threw her arm back -- and her outfit fizzled away into pink Aether, revealing the civilian clothing beneath.

At that moment, the two enemies had the same exact thought go through their minds.

From here on in, they thought. It's a game of cat and mouse.