[FRAG] Keep A Secret

Ah

There stood a figure before them. His head was held tall, his shoulders set back, his arms crossed over his chest. He was darker than the space around him, but it was more of a - a void than an entity, an immaterial hole in the very fabric of reality. The only thing tangible about him was the burning, blazing bright orange halo around his head, glittering with the literal lifeforce of creation.

Jubilee suddenly couldn't breathe.

Bereave narrowed his eyes, slowly. The motion was smooth, perfect, every move he made was incarnate perfection, antediluvian, primigenial, beyond comprehension. It was hurting his mind to focus so hard on him, but there was nothing else around him. He could only faintly hear the voices of everyone else, faintly feel the soft touch of Morning Star's hand. It was all fading into the void, into the awesome nothingness that was now in their presence.

Instinctively, he knew he had to ground himself, and he closed his hand around Morning Star's before it could slip away. He felt the other Frag squeeze back, a comfort, a small light they could build in this darkness. 

that's cute.

Jubilee bared his teeth. It was primal and regressive, but it was all he could manage. Bereave's voice was a hammer in his skull, slamming into his brain and taking up residence as if it had an absentee owner. The oppressive presence clung to him, awashing his mind in the emptiness. There was nothing here, was there?

No. No, he could feel Morning Star's hand, feel the softness under his own fingers. It was tangible. Morning Star was here, with him. And so was Sundae, and Sterling, and Magnotris, and Kolo, and Dijamant.

He could feel something echo inside of him as his mind wormed through the others, digging into who they were, pulling out some bit of them to hold and inspect pinched between two claws. Jubilee tried to inhale, but the air itself had turned into molasses, and he only succeeded in clogging himself. 

you know, the longer you sit there and fester...

"Shut your fucking mouth!"

Bereave raised an eyebrow, slowly, certainly. There was such condescension on his expression, and it was bubbling some ancient rage inside of Jubilee - a rage he'd tempered over so many years, carefully hidden, tucked away so no one could guess or assume at his true nature. But he'd just exposed himself, and he'd exposed that rage, and he felt it run through him like a river, sweeping his mind up in the current.

The presence drew back accordingly.

how funny. how long ago was it that we first met?

it had to have been eons, no?

eons, centuries, millennia, i don't remember, but it was forever and a half ago

omicron

"My name is Jubilee."

sure. your identity, your name. it's you, granted, but what you are

is omicron, whether you like it or not.

"Why wouldn't I like it?" he challenged. The voice, the presence, was buried into his skull. Bereave didn't even open his mouth to speak. He didn't need to. The words, the language itself bent in order to communicate true intent, true meaning. There was no question of whether it was honest or not. It simply was.

Jubilee clung to Morning Star, tighter. He could hear Morning Star's voice, echoing in the distance. What were they saying? What did they want from him? He was busy, he was trying to fight off... trying to protect... remember....

i'm a little mad, but also kind of pleased.

what a trick. it's really quite admirable, don't you think? to hide a timeline within an individual? to collapse thousands of lives into one?

it's sort of poetic and beautiful, i think. i wonder how you feel.

"Shut up!" Jubilee snarled, although his voice ached and didn't quite work in his throat. It was okay. He was okay. He held onto Morning Star.

He could feel another pair of arms shaking at him, pulling at his coat. He couldn't bear to turn and look. His eyes could only stare forwards, at Bereave, at the void empty gaping maw of nothing in front of him, at the antithesis of all creation.

that's rather rude to think about me like that.

i'm as much creation as genesis. we can't make singularity without each other. i am no antithesis.

Jubilee kept his glare steeled. "Maybe not, but you sure treated creation like you were. You destroyed Timelines. You killed millions!"

what of zeta and lambda? are they, too, alive? entities hiding from my gaze among the geometry, among the framework?

"I won't tell you anything."

The corners of Bereave's mouth turned up in a smile.

oh, you truly are omicron. if i ever had any doubt. look at what fire and anger you have within you.

Jubilee breathed in slowly.

you went down fighting every second. there was never a moment i was not being barraged by your people. it was infuriatingly beautiful. admirable. after it was done, i was in awe.

what an experience.

"That's absolutely disgusting of you to say. If you wanted to make yourself into a villain, into the antithesis, this is exactly how."

and what would you know of such things? such absolutes, in your small, fragile mind? does it create such things out of fear? does it find comfort in coloring me as the killer?

"You. Killed. Me. This isn't up for debate."

you have such confidence in your words. how long have you desperately desired to speak them? how many years have passed, mind numbing over what you'd say to me if you ever found me? if you ever knew you could speak any word and escape unscathed? 

what are your most private fantasies, most private thoughts? your deepest, darkest little secrets?

why don't we find out?

Jubilee scrambled backwards, but he was still held by both Morning Star and the other person, and it didn't matter anyways. No physical distance, no stretch of space could protect him from the boring fingers that dug into the mesh of his brain and scraped open his skull.

There was pain, but it was only in his mind. He saw no blood dripping down his face, he didn't feel the skin being pulled from his scalp. Simply, it was his magic - on his most basal, primal level, being groped and stretched and pulled until Bereave could fit a hand inside and squeeze everything Jubilee had tried to keep hidden forever.

He wrestled against the invasion, but it was futile. He knew that, intuitively, and yet he fought anyways, hissing, biting tooth and nail, scrambling against the ground. He could only pray that he wouldn't hurt Morning Star, gentle Morning Star, who still held his hand, grounding, desperate. Morning Star did not know what was happening to him, couldn't know. He didn't want Morning Star to know.

i think i found one.

No, no, no, but he couldn't move, he couldn't stop it. Could only watch as Bereave's hand pulled a memory free, ripped its strings from the brain, held it in a hand and turned it over like he was appraising a crystal ball. It glimmered and glittered, a dark late night in his bedroom, soon after joining the Coalition. Frustration and the taste of blood had colored him, and the anger had yet to leave. It had been all he could think about. Why didn't anyone help? Why did they all say no? Couldn't they see that-

That - 

That- that that that-

where's the rest of it?

that

omicron, where have you put the rest of it? how could you hide something like this from me?

fuck you

hm.

FUCK YOU

There was RAGE, now, blind hot angry rage, the rage he'd pretended didn't exist, pretended wasn't a part of him, but this rage wasn't really a part of him it was something else, and Jubilee felt the fingers on his arm not Morning Star the other and they dug in hard so hard that it was only painful and it only made him angrier

Millennia eons years centuries forever always the anger, the rage, that had stayed with them, forever, stayed rooted in both of their souls, and he could taste the acrid burn of magic on their tongue, the grand crescendo of everything he'd pent up in anticipation for a moment where he

could

just

LET

IT 

OUT

Jubilee and Rendgen screamed, in fury, in anger, as one, as he lifted the arm - the arm Rend had been clinging to, blazing with yellow magic, and he sliced down hard. Whatever mental connection Bereave had sustained with him was gone, ripped to shreds by the sheer force in the motion, the deep anger that had nested and smothered and burned and waited.

He forced his eyes open, staring straight ahead. Bereave had stumbled back, a hand up to clutch his head. Slowly, slowly, he pulled his fingers away, and they were smeared with space, with stars, with the ichor that had comprised the deities' body. Bereave's eyes widened as realization dawned on him, the true force of their anger, the combined might of frustration.

Jubilee stood, slowly, breathing heavily. There was a tug on his hand, and he looked down.

Morning Star stared back up at him, eyes wide, mouth moving. There was no fear in his gaze - only surprise, only shock. Jubilee held it for a few seconds, chest rising and falling with adrenaline. It wasn't fading. If anything, the sheer mania was overwhelming. It was eating up every bit of him. Would it even leave anything behind, afterwards?

Somehow he found himself apathetic. 

"Jubilee!" Morning Star was saying, and Jubilee's ears finally found the right frequency to hear. "Jubilee, are you alright? Do you need help?"

Help. He turned to stare at Bereave, at the chaotic force of destruction that had bitten into his Timeline and shredded it, at the murder that had picked him of all places, him of all people, and set aside taking apart every bit of him, atom by atom, like pulling legs off of a helpless, writhing bug. It had been obscene, it had been cruel. Help.

"Yes," he said, his voice doubled, "give me your magic"

"My - my what?"

"Your Blessing, let me use it"

Morning Star blinked rapidly up at him, mouth agape.

oh, you think that'll work? you think the magic of my own framework could harm me? this was a fluke.

Bereave flicked the ichor off his hand, but the oozing cut remained over his muzzle.

i didn't even come here to destroy you. i put that behind myself. i was done with that role.

but look what you've wrought. you've insisted, you've forced that role back onto me. you demanded i don the sword and strike you down. how does that make you feel, knowing that your death will be of your own righteous pride? that your avarice is what will tear you asunder?

No. No, he did not feel anything but rage, for he knew he would not die here. It was a truth, a reality that he could will into expression.

oh, don't be pathetic. you are but a shape, a geometry. even with the magic of another, a stronger, a more stable structure, it will not be enough. all of the framework will not be enough. 

genesis, the first and eternal thief, may have created this world. but i am still half of it - even if that half was stolen from me, so disgustingly stolen away. it is still mine, it is still me, and it cannot destroy me. is that your plan? to attempt to destroy the very fabric of reality? that is what i am. surely you know. 

surely. so why must you be so insolent? accept your fate. perhaps if you beg, i will let you live, in this disgusting new form. a timeline, given sentient shape. clever, and yet so, so beautiful, so poetic.

Morning Star's hand lit with magic, and Jubilee shivered as the sensation overwhelmed him, as another rush of magic - this time purple - touched inside of him. It was only borrowing. It was only a bit. But it was enough. The magic crackled, igniting, mixing with Rendgen's magic. They would end this. They would rear up together and bring every drop of their anger out on the man who had tortured them both.

He looked to Sundae. The other was on the floor, looking startled and scared, eyes wide as he glanced around the entire group. He caught Jubilee's stare, and wilted. 

"Give me your magic, your Blessing"

"What are you going to do?" Sundae squawked, eyes darting from Jubilee to Bereave. The latter seemed to be ignoring him, still standing menacingly, a testament to destruction. "You know you can't kill him!"

"I know"

Sundae stared up at him. His fear was in the air. Jubilee could taste it. He knew fear, he knew it so deeply. He remembered the fear. Waking up in fear. A life ruled by fear, by a thousand fears, by self-doubt and guessing his every step every moment. It was a fear, a powerful fear, that overtook him, that shook him, that bit into his very soul.

Let it go, Sundae. Let the fear go. They would make their final stand here, in protection of all Timelines. They would make their final stand here, to protect the entire world, to cradle all of creation in their hands. Their fury would rip the killer to shreds and scatter the pieces into the oblivion abyss of nothing. And should they fall, then their death would rest in the helm of the most beautiful of all revolts.

Don't you want to be a part of this, a part of this glorious hope, of this glorious attempt? Bathe in the awe of reconstructing reality itself, of bending the very nature of the world? Of ensuring its eternal survival and safety, free from the shadow of its most primordial monster, the first death, the harbinger of unlife? Would you not wish to say that you were there, that you helped? That your magic was enough to disrupt the beast? That your assistance was beautiful?

Offer your Blessing, of this I beg of you. What I have now - it will not be enough. I need you, and I hear you, and I am sorry for all that we have done that led here. But we are here now, and you must face a choice. Will you join in diligent insubordination, my friend? Or will you roll and die as if your life was meaningless? 

Sundae reached out a hand. 

Jubilee took it, firmly, feeling the warmth of the other's touch. It was so familiar, so many memories. They'd been friends once upon a time, and perhaps now, this reunion was the reignition of that friendship, that power. After this, they would talk. He knew it.

funny that you assume there will be an after!

are you done preparing for your destruction?

I think, Jubilee began

He cleared his throat. He felt it. He felt Rendgen, and he felt Morning Star, and he felt Sundae, and he felt Pyatiugolnik, and he felt himself, and he felt every single last living soul that had once made up the Timeline that was him.

I THINK YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT!

oh, you are absolutely PATHETIC.

"Jubilee, watch out!" Magnotris yelled.

He moved, moved and superimposed in a thousand places at once, the sensation of every fraction of his being shifting in primordial speed and rage. Where he had once sat, there was now a nothing, a void, a carved gash in reality itself. A mark of nothingness, fracturing off into the empty air around it. And Morning Star scrambled backwards in fear, 

but Jubilee moved still, moved and felt the magic run through him, up and down his arms and his spine and his legs, the shifting and moving of bones that were no longer only his, but a shared skeleton, holding up the rage that had been inside of him for too long

Bereave frowned, and Jubilee lifted a hand and he dug his feet in

Bereave snarled, shifting forwards, darting again, another sickening bolt of deep plasma void growing in his hands. Should even a drop of the concoction touch him, Jubilee knew that it would be over. But he trusted in himself, and in the rage, and in the lives of everyone kept inside of him.

He moved, and the gash missed once more, embedding itself into the wall behind him.

IS THAT THE BEST YOU CAN DO? IS YOUR AIM TRULY THAT BAD? NOW I SEE WHY GENESIS WAS ABLE TO SNAKE THE CREATION RIGHT OUT FROM UNDER YOU!

YOU HAVE NO IDEA THAT OF WHICH YOU SPEAK, YOU IMPERTINENTCUR!

Jubilee reared back, missing the words by an inch. He could feel them, feel the beat of reality in his mind and in the world around them as it struggled to bend to Bereave's wishes. He charged up his own vibrant bit of magic, feeling the energy of a thousand lives inside-

you THINK THAT WILL HURT ME? DID I NOT WARN YOU THAT THE MAGIC OF THE FRAMEWORK WILL NOT-

Bereave yelped as a different bit of magic burnt into his side. He rounded on the offending challenger - Dijamant, who looked like a deer in headlights, staring at his hand as if he wasn't sure he'd just done that.

HOW DARE YOU!

Jubilee flung his magic, watched it arc through the air, a giant blazing beam of frustrated hatred, of thousands of years of pain, of his and Rendgen and his Timeline and Pyatiugolnik and Morning Star and Sundae, all together, every thing they'd suffered, every thing they'd seen, every last bit of what life had been, what life was, where it had gone

And he knew it would not be enough, but what was life if he did not try? If he did not dig his heels in and fight a righteous revolt? What was the worth in breathing if every second of it was not spent abusing it to its fullest, to feel alive?

And so he watched it arc, watched the culmination of his existence

And then something flowed into it

Something

A golden, bright, a something, a familiar something, because he remembered that burn, and Jubilee looked to his right, and there Sterling stood

And the gold, the magic, the burning the pain the agonizing bled into his magic but it did not hurt, it greeted, it mixed, it flowed with, it strengthened, 

And when Bereave turned around, the mixture of gold and rage and magic and life and death and living and not and inverse and true collided with his chest, with the very core of his being, and star ichor splattered, and he toppled, and he stumbled as the bits of his body cracked and he tried to speak but his voice was gone, and he opened his mouth but he had no thoughts with which to speak of

And Jubilee watched as Bereave snapped in half