Memory of Mirrors * Chapter One
Memory of Mirrors
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Asch x Luke (...maybe Oh who am I kidding?)
Summary: Having to choose between his duties to Akzeriuth and finding out more about the twin he’s suddenly been confronted with, Luke chooses to pursue Asch instead, and ends up finding out more than he wanted sooner than he should have. Just how will his fate and the fate of thousands be changed?
CHAPTER ONE
"Asch, Ion takes priority right now!"
The voice of Sync the Tempest cut over the roar of the engines of the Tartarus, but Luke fon Fabre barely heard him, staring in shock at the darkly clad figure before him. The God General uniform, blood red hair, and his face; this was the real face of Asch the Bloody, the person that had struck out at them a couple times prior to this point. He could feel his stomach twist as Asch gazed down at him coldly, feeling like he was going to be sick, and for a moment he almost thought the bloody God General was going to ignore Sync's words. Finally, however, he turned away, starting for the massive land ship.
"I know!" he bit out, pausing a moment to glare back at him and the rest of his party, his eyes lingering on Natalia for a moment, before shooting back to Luke. "Aren't you the ladies man..."
He took off after that, running after the Tartarus as it started off. Luke could hear Guy behind him, shouting and demanding to know if he was all right, but he could not acknowledge him, still in shock. His face... his face... why did that man have his face? Jade was speaking now, but he could not focus on him either. He finally stood, his legs shaking, watching as Asch jumped onto the boarding ramp, glancing back as the land ship started to pick up speed.
At that moment, he made a choice, though he was not even aware of it until his brain registered his feet propelling him forward, running toward the retreating land ship. He ignored the sounds of his shouting companions; the only thing he could focus on was his face...
Asch had climbed up to the entrance of the Tartarus, and was turning to press the button that would close the door and pull up the ramp, when he heard a loud clank from below. He stared in both mild surprise and shock as the young noble jumped onto the boarding ramp, clinging to it for dear life.
"You fool!" he snapped down at him. "What the hell are you doing?!"
Luke glared up at him, using all his strength and determination to pull himself up the ramp, drawing his sword as he leapt inside at the last moment. Asch deftly dodged out of the way, drawing his own weapon as the noble's clanked uselessly against the floor. Luke turned, his weapon turning with him as he swung wildly. Their blades met, and Asch narrowed his eyes, barely putting any effort into blocking the attack, while the other young man was practically using every ounce of strength just to hold it there.
"You stupid reject!" Asch snapped, suddenly surging forward, shoving Luke. The pampered noble hit the wall, his head bouncing against it painfully. He slumped downward, gazing weakly up at the bloody God General, before falling forward, unconscious.
Asch approached the unconscious body slowly, his grip tightening on his sword as he went. He shifted his grip as he stopped at Luke's prone form, raising his weapon to stab down into the idiot boy's heart...
"Asch!"
He was not very surprised to hear Sync's voice down the hall, and he let out an annoyed noise, sheathing his weapon instead. His gaze turned sharply from the unconscious noble, to the green haired God General and Oracle Knights behind him.
"Tch..." he grumbled, walking away, though he stopped at the Knights. "Lock him away somewhere. I'll deal with him later."
He glared back at Sync, before continuing on his way.
~.oOOo.~
Luke was not entirely surprised to find himself staring up at a metal ceiling when he woke up next, the familiar feeling of a lumpy bunk bed at his back. He groaned softly, sitting upright and holding his head in his hands, trying to shake the feeling of dizziness that made him want to lie back down again. At least whoever had thrown him in here was kind enough to keep the lights down, but that relief was quickly dashed as the door to his cell opened. He let out an annoyed whine, covering his face with his hands as the bright light from the corridor beyond flooded into the room.
"Stop your sniveling, you worthless reject!" snapped a familiar voice. There was a loud bang as the door snapped closed behind his grumpy guest, followed by the distinctive sound of a lock. Hesitantly, Luke looked up, barely able to make out Asch's form in what little light was in the room.
"Who... who are you?" Luke demanded, sounding a lot braver than he felt with his head hurting him and unarmed. "Who are you really?!"
Asch narrowed his eyes, standing there with all the stiffness of a statue, and for a moment it did not seem like he was going to answer. Finally, he moved, reaching up and removing his tabard, tossing it aside with a dull thud and a rustle of cloth.
"...a noble born in Baticul," he finally answered, his tone frigid. "Seven years ago, I was kidnapped from my home by a monster named Van."
Luke felt like his voice made him freeze. "But... but that's..."
Asch snorted, his tone turning cruel as he gazed down at the horrified expression that was slowly forming on the twin face.
"That's what happened to you?" he finished for him, before letting out a bark of laughter. "Hardly. You were just a creation... a stupid, inferior replica Van made to take my place! Why else can you not remember what happened before that time?! Why else do we look the same?!"
Luke shook his head, backing away from the God General, fear and horror blatantly painted on his face as he trembled. Asch just smirked at the sight, privately glad he had been prevented from killing the dreck; being able to see him squirm in the face of the truth was much more rewarding then having his blood on his hands.
"That... that can't... it can't be... it..." Luke tried to say, having difficulty forming a complete sentence. Asch narrowed his eyes at him again, reaching down and grabbing him by the collar of that ridiculous coat of his, pulling him up to his level.
"Look at me, dreck!" he snapped. "Does it look like I'm lying?!"
Luke could only manage a soft squeak of fear, shaking his head as his mouth worked, trying to form some kind of words. Finally, he managed to get out only one:
"Why?"
Asch's expression softened slightly, releasing his grip on him and letting him fall back down to the bed.
"...that I don't know," he replied, before the glare came back in full force. "I wanted to try and find out, but you had to go and do something stupid."
Luke just sat there on his knees, afraid to even look up, even as he was insulted. Everything... everything he knew about himself and his place in the world... It was all a lie, a terrible lie; it was all supposed to belong to this man, the real Luke. Asch watched him for a long moment, before reaching out, tilting his chin up so he could look in his face.
"Look at me, dreck," he hissed. "I want to see you suffering from the truth."
A soft sob escaped from Luke, and he blinked back tears in a vain and stubborn effort to keep Asch from getting what he wanted.
"Wh-what are you going to do to me?" he asked, his voice wavering unsteadily.
Asch's expression darkened and his hand shifted, gripping Luke about the throat. A startled cry escaped from him, and he reached up to try and pry his hand off, but Asch pushed forward, slamming him up against the wall the bed hung from before he could attempt it. Stars danced before his eyes, and he tried to focus on the God General as he started speaking again.
"I want you to feel the pain I've suffered these past seven years," he hissed dangerously. "I want you to be begging for death by the time I'm through with you..."
A small sound of horror managed to escape from Luke's lips, but Asch dragged him away from the wall and the bed before he could get anything else out, throwing him forcefully to the floor. Luke felt his head swim again from the abuse, and he thought for sure he would pass out. The God General's hands shifting about on him again managed to keep that from happening, afraid of what he would try next. He did not count on the sound of his precious jacket tearing, Asch's hands gripping it by the back of the collar and ripping the design on the back to shreds before depositing it on the ground. Luke stared down at it as the sleeves fell from his arms uselessly, pooling around his hands, though they were quickly joined by his undershirt as that too was torn off of his body.
Luke turned over when Asch removed his hands from him, scraps of his clothing falling from his body as he tried to wriggle away from the stone faced soldier.
"S-stop! What are you... you can't possibly...!"
Asch paused, raising an eyebrow at his gibberish, before he seemed to understand what he was thinking. His lips turned up into a cruel sneer, one that drew out another whimper of fear from Luke.
"As much as I want to see you humiliated, I wouldn't insult myself by touching trash like you in that manner," he shot back, grabbing for his pants in the next moment and ripping them off with a few painful jerks. "And that's all you are, trash. You're not worthy of a noble's clothing."
Asch stood up with the pieces of Luke's pants still in hand, tossing them down to the floor with a loud snap, a disgusted look on his face. The replica shrank back, trying to cover himself shamefully, but the original was not going to let him get away with that. He pursued him, finally grabbing him roughly by his hair and pulling him up so that it was taut above his head.
"You don't need this either..." he hissed dangerously as he slid a dagger out from his belt.
Luke's eyes widened as they trailed along the sharp blade, and he thought for certain that his life was about to end. Asch surprised him again though, and instead of taking the blade to his neck, he took it to his hair. With a loud slicing sound that made his whole body ache, Luke's hair came apart from his head, dangerously close to his scalp, until he was falling back to the ground again. He curled up on himself, sobbing softly, as Asch hovered over him, holding the long red strands in his hand.
"That's better," he stated after a pause, slipping the dagger back where it belonged. "That's where you belong, dreck; cowering at my feet."
Asch spat at him, before turning on his heel, gathering up his tabard, and storming out of the room, leaving Luke to cry himself asleep alone.
~.oOOo.~
"How pathetic..."
Asch could not help commenting aloud on how his replica looked when he returned to his cell later that evening. The stupid dreck had curled back up on the cot, facing the wall. There was no bed sheet on the simple military bed, so the replica had used the remains of his coat tails in a vain effort to cover himself. Seeing him so damn weak was a wonderful thing, but insulting at the same time. He was not weak, so his replica should not be weak either; the fact that he could not even take someone ripping his clothes and cutting his hair just made the original even more pissed than he already was.
With a snarl his sword snapped out, easily cutting the chains that held the cot to the wall. The bed teetered a bit, before falling under Luke’s weight, the replica coming awake with a loud yelp as he hit the cold floor. He laid there a moment, blinking in confusion, until Asch slamming his sword in the ground just inches away from his fingers made him snap back to reality. He let out a loud yelp, scrambling away from him and trying to keep himself covered at the same time. Asch sneered at the pathetic display, stalking after him.
"Stop acting like I don't see it every day!" he snapped, grabbing Luke by what was left of his hair and flinging him against the nearest wall. Luke slumped down, dazed, before Asch grabbed him again and slammed his head back against the wall.
"Listen and listen well, dreck," Asch hissed, his voice soft so as not to be heard outside the cell. "I'm not repeating myself. Tomorrow we arrive at the Zao Ruins, on the eastern edge of the desert. If your companions have any sense, they'll stop at the oasis west of there. Tomorrow you'll be escaping to the oasis, and letting your traveling party know where we are and that Ion is with us."
Hesitantly, Luke nodded, slowly calming despite the grip Asch had on his hair. "W-what are you making him do anyway...?"
"Van wants us to use him to open the doors to the Sephiroth," his original replied. "I don't know why, but I have my suspicions. The less you know, though, the less likely you are to blurt it out by accident."
Again Luke nodded, looking up at his original slowly. "...why are you letting me go?"
Asch glared, his gaze flicking briefly to the door. "'Luke fon Fabre' is important to Akzeriuth right now. Everyone in the Order and the world knows you'll be going there. If you don’t show up, it'll cause a commotion."
Luke felt his stomach twist, and he bit his lip. Van said not to tell anyone... but Van was also lying to him this whole time! What could he... what should he do...?
"M-master Van said that he would help me neutralize the miasma once I got to Akzeriuth," he blurted out before he could stop himself. "That if I did that it would prevent war and I'd be a hero."
Asch twitched when his replica referred to Van as his master, but listened to his words, the scowl on his face deepening to a thoughtful frown. Finally, he let go of Luke, standing up and folding his arms over his chest.
"...you could do that... maybe," he admitted softly, "but that doesn't make any sense. Why take that risk when...?" The original paused a moment, shaking his head, before turning another glare down to his replica. "All right then, don't do anything at Akzeriuth until I get there, understand? I'll be watching."
"W-watching? How?"
Asch crouched down again, and Luke shrunk back in response. The original only tapped him sharply on his forehead, a broad smirk coming to his face.
"We're perfect isofons, dreck," he explained. "You're an exact copy of me, right down to your fonon frequency. At Choral Castle I had Dist open up your synchronous fon slots so I would be able to control you if I wanted."
Luke's eyes widened. "Y-you would-"
"Relax, dreck," Asch barked at him before he could finish his protest. "Do as I say and you won't have to worry about that."
He stood up again, before reaching into his tabard and pulling out a bundle of clothes. Asch tossed them into Luke's face and waited a moment, letting him pull them away... just before he threw a canteen at him. The replica let out a yelp, hands flying to his face as the full canteen thumped into his lap on top of the clothes. Asch just smirked, before waving a hand as he started for the door.
"Get dressed and rest well," he sneered. "You have a long day tomorrow."
Luke waited until the door slammed shut, before his gaze turned mournfully to the fallen cot. Rest well on a broken cot... yeah, he did not see that happening any time soon. He let out a tired sigh, unbundling the clothes that had been tossed at him and holding them up. They were just plan, average clothes that any peasant would wear... except for the fact that the shirt had his beloved monster face printed on the back. He slid a hand over it, blinking in wonder.
"Asch..."
~.oOOo.~
The morning was a rather peaceful one, at least that's what the Oracle Knights stationed on the Tartarus believed. All three of the God Generals that were with them were off into the ruin they had stopped at near the edge of the desert. It was much more peaceful with Sync the Tempest off the ship, not to mention a lot less dangerous without Asch the Bloody present. Largo the Black Lion was the only one of the three that was tolerable enough, but he had his hands full enough just keeping the other two from butting heads.
The guard that was watching their unexpected royal prisoner let out a yawn, settling back against the wall. He did not see the point of watching him; the door was locked, and the little brat did not even let out a peep unless Commander Asch was inside, and when he was... The man shuddered slightly, remembering the screams and cries he had heard. It was no wonder the man was known as Bloody...
He was about to settle himself to get a much needed hour or so of sleep before the shift changed, when he could suddenly feel fonons gathering. He stood, looking around for the source... and therefore did not expect the Raging Blast that ripped through the wall behind him, sending him flying into the other wall and knocking him unconscious.
Luke let out an exhausted breath, taking a moment to recover from the base strike arte. He had never needed to make it that powerful before, and the result was rather draining. Unfortunately, he could not waste too much time, as just about everyone had to have heard that explosion. He ducked through the hole he had ripped into the wall, immediately going over to the guard and relieving him of his sword.
"Sorry," Luke murmured, before hurrying down the familiar halls to an exit.
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Asch x Luke (...maybe Oh who am I kidding?)
Summary: Having to choose between his duties to Akzeriuth and finding out more about the twin he’s suddenly been confronted with, Luke chooses to pursue Asch instead, and ends up finding out more than he wanted sooner than he should have. Just how will his fate and the fate of thousands be changed?
CHAPTER ONE
"Asch, Ion takes priority right now!"
The voice of Sync the Tempest cut over the roar of the engines of the Tartarus, but Luke fon Fabre barely heard him, staring in shock at the darkly clad figure before him. The God General uniform, blood red hair, and his face; this was the real face of Asch the Bloody, the person that had struck out at them a couple times prior to this point. He could feel his stomach twist as Asch gazed down at him coldly, feeling like he was going to be sick, and for a moment he almost thought the bloody God General was going to ignore Sync's words. Finally, however, he turned away, starting for the massive land ship.
"I know!" he bit out, pausing a moment to glare back at him and the rest of his party, his eyes lingering on Natalia for a moment, before shooting back to Luke. "Aren't you the ladies man..."
He took off after that, running after the Tartarus as it started off. Luke could hear Guy behind him, shouting and demanding to know if he was all right, but he could not acknowledge him, still in shock. His face... his face... why did that man have his face? Jade was speaking now, but he could not focus on him either. He finally stood, his legs shaking, watching as Asch jumped onto the boarding ramp, glancing back as the land ship started to pick up speed.
At that moment, he made a choice, though he was not even aware of it until his brain registered his feet propelling him forward, running toward the retreating land ship. He ignored the sounds of his shouting companions; the only thing he could focus on was his face...
Asch had climbed up to the entrance of the Tartarus, and was turning to press the button that would close the door and pull up the ramp, when he heard a loud clank from below. He stared in both mild surprise and shock as the young noble jumped onto the boarding ramp, clinging to it for dear life.
"You fool!" he snapped down at him. "What the hell are you doing?!"
Luke glared up at him, using all his strength and determination to pull himself up the ramp, drawing his sword as he leapt inside at the last moment. Asch deftly dodged out of the way, drawing his own weapon as the noble's clanked uselessly against the floor. Luke turned, his weapon turning with him as he swung wildly. Their blades met, and Asch narrowed his eyes, barely putting any effort into blocking the attack, while the other young man was practically using every ounce of strength just to hold it there.
"You stupid reject!" Asch snapped, suddenly surging forward, shoving Luke. The pampered noble hit the wall, his head bouncing against it painfully. He slumped downward, gazing weakly up at the bloody God General, before falling forward, unconscious.
Asch approached the unconscious body slowly, his grip tightening on his sword as he went. He shifted his grip as he stopped at Luke's prone form, raising his weapon to stab down into the idiot boy's heart...
"Asch!"
He was not very surprised to hear Sync's voice down the hall, and he let out an annoyed noise, sheathing his weapon instead. His gaze turned sharply from the unconscious noble, to the green haired God General and Oracle Knights behind him.
"Tch..." he grumbled, walking away, though he stopped at the Knights. "Lock him away somewhere. I'll deal with him later."
He glared back at Sync, before continuing on his way.
~.oOOo.~
Luke was not entirely surprised to find himself staring up at a metal ceiling when he woke up next, the familiar feeling of a lumpy bunk bed at his back. He groaned softly, sitting upright and holding his head in his hands, trying to shake the feeling of dizziness that made him want to lie back down again. At least whoever had thrown him in here was kind enough to keep the lights down, but that relief was quickly dashed as the door to his cell opened. He let out an annoyed whine, covering his face with his hands as the bright light from the corridor beyond flooded into the room.
"Stop your sniveling, you worthless reject!" snapped a familiar voice. There was a loud bang as the door snapped closed behind his grumpy guest, followed by the distinctive sound of a lock. Hesitantly, Luke looked up, barely able to make out Asch's form in what little light was in the room.
"Who... who are you?" Luke demanded, sounding a lot braver than he felt with his head hurting him and unarmed. "Who are you really?!"
Asch narrowed his eyes, standing there with all the stiffness of a statue, and for a moment it did not seem like he was going to answer. Finally, he moved, reaching up and removing his tabard, tossing it aside with a dull thud and a rustle of cloth.
"...a noble born in Baticul," he finally answered, his tone frigid. "Seven years ago, I was kidnapped from my home by a monster named Van."
Luke felt like his voice made him freeze. "But... but that's..."
Asch snorted, his tone turning cruel as he gazed down at the horrified expression that was slowly forming on the twin face.
"That's what happened to you?" he finished for him, before letting out a bark of laughter. "Hardly. You were just a creation... a stupid, inferior replica Van made to take my place! Why else can you not remember what happened before that time?! Why else do we look the same?!"
Luke shook his head, backing away from the God General, fear and horror blatantly painted on his face as he trembled. Asch just smirked at the sight, privately glad he had been prevented from killing the dreck; being able to see him squirm in the face of the truth was much more rewarding then having his blood on his hands.
"That... that can't... it can't be... it..." Luke tried to say, having difficulty forming a complete sentence. Asch narrowed his eyes at him again, reaching down and grabbing him by the collar of that ridiculous coat of his, pulling him up to his level.
"Look at me, dreck!" he snapped. "Does it look like I'm lying?!"
Luke could only manage a soft squeak of fear, shaking his head as his mouth worked, trying to form some kind of words. Finally, he managed to get out only one:
"Why?"
Asch's expression softened slightly, releasing his grip on him and letting him fall back down to the bed.
"...that I don't know," he replied, before the glare came back in full force. "I wanted to try and find out, but you had to go and do something stupid."
Luke just sat there on his knees, afraid to even look up, even as he was insulted. Everything... everything he knew about himself and his place in the world... It was all a lie, a terrible lie; it was all supposed to belong to this man, the real Luke. Asch watched him for a long moment, before reaching out, tilting his chin up so he could look in his face.
"Look at me, dreck," he hissed. "I want to see you suffering from the truth."
A soft sob escaped from Luke, and he blinked back tears in a vain and stubborn effort to keep Asch from getting what he wanted.
"Wh-what are you going to do to me?" he asked, his voice wavering unsteadily.
Asch's expression darkened and his hand shifted, gripping Luke about the throat. A startled cry escaped from him, and he reached up to try and pry his hand off, but Asch pushed forward, slamming him up against the wall the bed hung from before he could attempt it. Stars danced before his eyes, and he tried to focus on the God General as he started speaking again.
"I want you to feel the pain I've suffered these past seven years," he hissed dangerously. "I want you to be begging for death by the time I'm through with you..."
A small sound of horror managed to escape from Luke's lips, but Asch dragged him away from the wall and the bed before he could get anything else out, throwing him forcefully to the floor. Luke felt his head swim again from the abuse, and he thought for sure he would pass out. The God General's hands shifting about on him again managed to keep that from happening, afraid of what he would try next. He did not count on the sound of his precious jacket tearing, Asch's hands gripping it by the back of the collar and ripping the design on the back to shreds before depositing it on the ground. Luke stared down at it as the sleeves fell from his arms uselessly, pooling around his hands, though they were quickly joined by his undershirt as that too was torn off of his body.
Luke turned over when Asch removed his hands from him, scraps of his clothing falling from his body as he tried to wriggle away from the stone faced soldier.
"S-stop! What are you... you can't possibly...!"
Asch paused, raising an eyebrow at his gibberish, before he seemed to understand what he was thinking. His lips turned up into a cruel sneer, one that drew out another whimper of fear from Luke.
"As much as I want to see you humiliated, I wouldn't insult myself by touching trash like you in that manner," he shot back, grabbing for his pants in the next moment and ripping them off with a few painful jerks. "And that's all you are, trash. You're not worthy of a noble's clothing."
Asch stood up with the pieces of Luke's pants still in hand, tossing them down to the floor with a loud snap, a disgusted look on his face. The replica shrank back, trying to cover himself shamefully, but the original was not going to let him get away with that. He pursued him, finally grabbing him roughly by his hair and pulling him up so that it was taut above his head.
"You don't need this either..." he hissed dangerously as he slid a dagger out from his belt.
Luke's eyes widened as they trailed along the sharp blade, and he thought for certain that his life was about to end. Asch surprised him again though, and instead of taking the blade to his neck, he took it to his hair. With a loud slicing sound that made his whole body ache, Luke's hair came apart from his head, dangerously close to his scalp, until he was falling back to the ground again. He curled up on himself, sobbing softly, as Asch hovered over him, holding the long red strands in his hand.
"That's better," he stated after a pause, slipping the dagger back where it belonged. "That's where you belong, dreck; cowering at my feet."
Asch spat at him, before turning on his heel, gathering up his tabard, and storming out of the room, leaving Luke to cry himself asleep alone.
~.oOOo.~
"How pathetic..."
Asch could not help commenting aloud on how his replica looked when he returned to his cell later that evening. The stupid dreck had curled back up on the cot, facing the wall. There was no bed sheet on the simple military bed, so the replica had used the remains of his coat tails in a vain effort to cover himself. Seeing him so damn weak was a wonderful thing, but insulting at the same time. He was not weak, so his replica should not be weak either; the fact that he could not even take someone ripping his clothes and cutting his hair just made the original even more pissed than he already was.
With a snarl his sword snapped out, easily cutting the chains that held the cot to the wall. The bed teetered a bit, before falling under Luke’s weight, the replica coming awake with a loud yelp as he hit the cold floor. He laid there a moment, blinking in confusion, until Asch slamming his sword in the ground just inches away from his fingers made him snap back to reality. He let out a loud yelp, scrambling away from him and trying to keep himself covered at the same time. Asch sneered at the pathetic display, stalking after him.
"Stop acting like I don't see it every day!" he snapped, grabbing Luke by what was left of his hair and flinging him against the nearest wall. Luke slumped down, dazed, before Asch grabbed him again and slammed his head back against the wall.
"Listen and listen well, dreck," Asch hissed, his voice soft so as not to be heard outside the cell. "I'm not repeating myself. Tomorrow we arrive at the Zao Ruins, on the eastern edge of the desert. If your companions have any sense, they'll stop at the oasis west of there. Tomorrow you'll be escaping to the oasis, and letting your traveling party know where we are and that Ion is with us."
Hesitantly, Luke nodded, slowly calming despite the grip Asch had on his hair. "W-what are you making him do anyway...?"
"Van wants us to use him to open the doors to the Sephiroth," his original replied. "I don't know why, but I have my suspicions. The less you know, though, the less likely you are to blurt it out by accident."
Again Luke nodded, looking up at his original slowly. "...why are you letting me go?"
Asch glared, his gaze flicking briefly to the door. "'Luke fon Fabre' is important to Akzeriuth right now. Everyone in the Order and the world knows you'll be going there. If you don’t show up, it'll cause a commotion."
Luke felt his stomach twist, and he bit his lip. Van said not to tell anyone... but Van was also lying to him this whole time! What could he... what should he do...?
"M-master Van said that he would help me neutralize the miasma once I got to Akzeriuth," he blurted out before he could stop himself. "That if I did that it would prevent war and I'd be a hero."
Asch twitched when his replica referred to Van as his master, but listened to his words, the scowl on his face deepening to a thoughtful frown. Finally, he let go of Luke, standing up and folding his arms over his chest.
"...you could do that... maybe," he admitted softly, "but that doesn't make any sense. Why take that risk when...?" The original paused a moment, shaking his head, before turning another glare down to his replica. "All right then, don't do anything at Akzeriuth until I get there, understand? I'll be watching."
"W-watching? How?"
Asch crouched down again, and Luke shrunk back in response. The original only tapped him sharply on his forehead, a broad smirk coming to his face.
"We're perfect isofons, dreck," he explained. "You're an exact copy of me, right down to your fonon frequency. At Choral Castle I had Dist open up your synchronous fon slots so I would be able to control you if I wanted."
Luke's eyes widened. "Y-you would-"
"Relax, dreck," Asch barked at him before he could finish his protest. "Do as I say and you won't have to worry about that."
He stood up again, before reaching into his tabard and pulling out a bundle of clothes. Asch tossed them into Luke's face and waited a moment, letting him pull them away... just before he threw a canteen at him. The replica let out a yelp, hands flying to his face as the full canteen thumped into his lap on top of the clothes. Asch just smirked, before waving a hand as he started for the door.
"Get dressed and rest well," he sneered. "You have a long day tomorrow."
Luke waited until the door slammed shut, before his gaze turned mournfully to the fallen cot. Rest well on a broken cot... yeah, he did not see that happening any time soon. He let out a tired sigh, unbundling the clothes that had been tossed at him and holding them up. They were just plan, average clothes that any peasant would wear... except for the fact that the shirt had his beloved monster face printed on the back. He slid a hand over it, blinking in wonder.
"Asch..."
~.oOOo.~
The morning was a rather peaceful one, at least that's what the Oracle Knights stationed on the Tartarus believed. All three of the God Generals that were with them were off into the ruin they had stopped at near the edge of the desert. It was much more peaceful with Sync the Tempest off the ship, not to mention a lot less dangerous without Asch the Bloody present. Largo the Black Lion was the only one of the three that was tolerable enough, but he had his hands full enough just keeping the other two from butting heads.
The guard that was watching their unexpected royal prisoner let out a yawn, settling back against the wall. He did not see the point of watching him; the door was locked, and the little brat did not even let out a peep unless Commander Asch was inside, and when he was... The man shuddered slightly, remembering the screams and cries he had heard. It was no wonder the man was known as Bloody...
He was about to settle himself to get a much needed hour or so of sleep before the shift changed, when he could suddenly feel fonons gathering. He stood, looking around for the source... and therefore did not expect the Raging Blast that ripped through the wall behind him, sending him flying into the other wall and knocking him unconscious.
Luke let out an exhausted breath, taking a moment to recover from the base strike arte. He had never needed to make it that powerful before, and the result was rather draining. Unfortunately, he could not waste too much time, as just about everyone had to have heard that explosion. He ducked through the hole he had ripped into the wall, immediately going over to the guard and relieving him of his sword.
"Sorry," Luke murmured, before hurrying down the familiar halls to an exit.