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“One more try.”
The clank of straining chains, then silences as the man bows his head, slackening his grip on the bonds. A small cough, and the man watches uninterested his breath misting in the freezing air.
“I’m sorry.”
He strains at the chains again, but they remain unyielding, strong. One of his hands is human alright, but maybe if one were to peer closely, they might see blue lines like veins tracing up from his wrist. His other is twisted, deformed, like a huge demon’s arm – covered in chitinous plates and sporting large claws.
A small chuckle – a mirthless sound in the quiet place.
“So…not even this curse can help? Not even the strength of an era long dead can break these chains?”
Perhaps out of curiosity, the man taps the claws of his twisted, monstrous left hand on the chain links. There is a tiny crack in one, and his eyes widen. Just like his hands, one glints blue, the other black.
But what good would breaking his chains do? He was stuck here in an unfamiliar world, with not a soul in sight. Was there even an exit in this place? Any weapons? He certainly didn’t trust himself with using his appendages as weapons.
He’d been brought here a few months ago, blindfolded and restrained. His sword taken from him, given to his captor – a white-haired man with blue eyes, a stoic, cold mask for a face.
What had the Sire of World Serpent said?
I see that you have inherited some of my power. Prove that you are worthy of it. My stigmatized self may think so, but I don’t. Take him.
Blindfolded again, this time personally by the Sire, and put in this place. Failure after failure to activate the Kaslana stigmata fully, screaming great roars of pain and sorrow to the silent sky.
The Sire’s last words before leaving.
You will not escape until you fully master your power. I will not kill you, but I cannot have you running around, disrupting my plans. With my sword too, no less.
Old memories float into his consciousness. Her soft smile as she held their daughter gently. A scene from a lifetime ago, him bouncing his daughter on his knee, chuckling and caressing the top of her head.
Siegfried Kaslana bows his head and lets icy tears spill forth from bloodshot eyes. They freeze upon contact with his skin, but he makes no effort to chip the ice away.
“Cecilia…Kiana…I’m sorry. I failed you.”
Memories of the failed rescue attempt. His daughter’s clone in his arms – the last time he saw her had been in Singapore, him watching her carefree self from afar, quiet pride welling in his heart. His daughter – her body broken on the rocks far below, Theresa’s frantic voice screaming over the comms…
“I failed everyone. My wife sacrificed herself for me. I let my daughter come with me, and she lost her life. I could not give my other little one the life she deserved. I’m a failure.”
Rage boiling like magma in his body. His claws twitch, then flare with blue fire as he yanks at the chain another time. It cracks – if a little, but nearly instantly it repairs itself.
Siegfried heaves a sigh and relaxes his arm muscles, letting his limbs go limp and inert.
No good. Even with this power, he cannot break free.
So, would this be how it ended? Him, Siegfried Kaslana, in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by the chill air and the whispers of failure and doubt?
His eyes shoot open as something in the distance catches his attention.
“So, this is the Kaslana stigmata space. Quite an empty place.”
“That’s right. Where I…rediscovered myself.”
Kiana Kaslana and Bianka Ataegina walk across the red sands, weapons out and ready. Bianka is astride her black-armoured steed Krishna, but keeps pace with Kiana, at a steady march.
They’ve been walking for quite some time, and yet no hostiles appear to accost them. Bianka remembers fighting off Imaginary constructs and then the big clockwork machine after she harnessed her power, and yet nothing comes.
As they walk, they think.
Sisters. Or as close to an approximation of the word as possible, Kiana being Bianka’s clone, after all. Still, it comforts both of them to be with family as they walk alone. The silence is eerie, unsettling.
Bianka closes her eyes as she brings Krishna to a halt and delves into her memory. Where was it…that place where she stood before a mirror, looking into the distance, seeing the man that was her father, struggling against his chains and lamenting through it all?
She opens her eyes, then turns to Kiana and gives a nod.
“This way.”
Kiana returns the nod, then grasps her sister’s offered hand and swings herself up on Krishna’s back.
“We must hurry. Kevin didn’t give us much time.”
“Show us the meaning of haste, Krishna!”
Bianka gives a piercing cry, then they tear off across the sands, aiming for seemingly nowhere. Freshly-built Imaginary constructs startle and spasm as they rush past in a blur of speed.
“Just hold on, old man. We’re coming for you.”
Kiana throws a glance over her shoulder. Over the horizon, a faint echoing roar like a wounded animal splits the sky. Blue cracks across the glass.
Bianka is shouting something at her, but over the din of the steed’s hooves on the sand, Kiana is nearly deaf.
“Can you use your Void powers?”
“Risky. We may end up even further away.”
Her sister’s eyes glint and a small smile curves her lips. She really does look like her, even after all that Otto did to her.
“For our father, is the risk too great?”
“…No.”
Kiana sighs, then raises a hand and tears open a rift. A black hole, glowing orange and flaring with fire. They ride through, and then…
They are there.
A stone platform floating in the middle of nowhere. They ride through frigid, empty air, Krishna’s hooves leaving glowing white prints in the air. Bianka sucks in a breath of anticipation, relief and tension mixed into one.
And on the middle of the platform, flanked by two huge pillars, kneels a man. If a human had a Honkai arm, and the crest of a Honkai beast framing his left eye. He is bound with chains, and a feral snarl ripples from his throat as he looks up.
The Kaslana sisters dismount, and Krishna vanishes. The man looks up at them, brows furrowed in concentration, eyes narrowed.
Contrary to what they might have thought, his voice is barely a whisper.
“Kiana?”
Despite herself, despite this…thing that her father has become, despite the imminent danger on the horizon, Kiana drops to her knees and throws her arms around the man’s neck. He reeks – of sweat, of the stench of Honkai carapace, but above it all, a haze of pain and guilt and now…relief.
“Kiana?”
He repeats her name, straining at the chains that bind his arms.
Kiana Kaslana had not been prepared for this. Last time she saw the old man in the flesh, he’d been missing an arm, sword clutched in the other. Arms round her, whispering encouragement.
And then he’d walked away. Kiana guesses that he probably stumbled into World Serpent agents who captured him and brought him here.
“H-hi, old man.”
Kiana does not know what to feel. Relief, that her father is alive. Lingering anger, at his abandonment. Sorrow, for what he’d been forced to endure. Joy, at this reunion.
It is all she can do to not break down crying.
Meanwhile, Bianka raises her weapon, and shatters first one chain, then the other. As soon as he is free, Siegfried raises his arm – the human one – and draws Kiana close.
“My baby girl…it really is you.”
Kiana smiles and pulls away, then helps Siegfried to his feet. He stands tall, taller than both of them, and even though there is a heavy Honkai claw and carapace on his arm, he stands as if he was fully human, and fully alive.
Then he turns to Bianka. A smile, a genuine, sincere grin, breaks out on his face as he puts two and two together. The white hair, the blue eyes, that slightly-amused expression unique to all Kaslanas. His smile grows as he looks over her armour, and her weapons.
“Kiana, you’ve grown up.”
A chuckle breaks his speech, then he resumes.
“How…how are you?”
Bianka smiles.
“Doing better.”
“That’s good. That’s very good.”
A tremble in the air catches their collective attention, and they whirl. On the horizon, something is approaching. Something big, and a faint roar echoes in the distance. Kiana turns to Siegfried, concern written on her face.
“We can talk later. He is here. Can you fight, old man?”
Siegfried tests the air with his claw, then shrugs.
“Would be better if I had a weapon.”
Kiana grins, and opens another black hole. When it closes, she holds a pair of pistols in her hands. Grey and black and sleek, orange fire blazing in their cores. Siegfried blinks, and takes a step back.
“Those are…where did you get them?”
“Kevin gave it to us. We fought him to a stalemate, though he didn’t activate his Honkai form. He gave us one hour before he would begin the hunt. He said that these would come in handy.”
“My baby girls, all grown up and defeating their ancestor? The future is looking bright.”
Siegfried holds the Judgment of Shamash in his hands, then gives a war shout as he activates its greatsword mode. Flames lash at his body, singeing his clothes but not harming his skin. Blue fire from his claw mixes with it, and he raises it in an offensive defense stance.
“Shamash, old buddy…it’s good to see you again. Let’s see if your edge has dulled.”
Another roar in the distance, closer this time. Kevin’s Active Honkai Reaction form is…indescribable, but if there is one thing that the three Kaslanas are sure of, it surely strikes awe and terror mixed into one, into their hearts.
“If—no, after we give grandpa Kevin a good ass-kicking, we sure have a hell lot of catching up to do.”
“We’ve got plenty of time. Now focus.”
The Kaslanas raise their weapons against their foe. Greatswords and lance. In the midst of his monstrous form, Kevin’s blue eyes flash with a mix of anticipation and…pride. They hold each other’s gazes for an instant, then Kevin charges.
Kiana, Bianka and Siegfried steel themselves and meet the storm head on.