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In this moment, there is nobody Nine hates more than Paige.
Her pink eyes glow in the faint darkness, the same colour as the sea beneath them, wooden shards abandoned on the deck around their feet.
“Self-centred asshole,” she mutters, folding her arms. The shattered piece of scrap wood had been long forgotten, as had her spear.
“Oh- says you!” He cries, gesturing at her. “It’s not like I fucking dumped all of my friends!”
“At least I didn’t betray my friends to go back to a crappy life on Earth!” Paige snaps back, and he flinches. That was ages ago! Why did it even matter?
Nine ignored the voice in the back of his head that told him he was being a hypocrite. It had been wrong before.
It had also been right before, but whatever. That wasn’t the point!
“You can leave whenever you want! You’re a god! None of us had a choice in this!” He spits back, words like gunfire.
“Do you think I want to go back to Olympus, Nine? Huh? I spent years alone, isolated- my only friends were my books and Cookie, if I could sneak out! At least you had a life before the basement?”
He takes a deep breath, anger clouding his vision, making his chest and hands shake. “How old are you, Paige?” He demands. “I died at sixteen! You say I had a life- I wasn’t even an adult!”
“I’m not an adult either, Nine!” The god shrieks, taking a step forwards, crushing one of the bits of wood. “I’m also a teenager! Don’t forget that gods age differently to mortals!”
“Fuck!” Nine shouts, finally. “Okay! I fucked up! You fucked up! We’ve both fucked up!”
“So we’re in agreement, then!” Paige slams her hands down onto the table, the only thing between the two- the only thing preventing either of them from launching themselves at the other. “Can we stop fucking fighting then? Or is that all you know how to do?”
”Don’t make me implement an enchanted swear jar.” Cookie’s voice cuts through the air, and Nine jumps, turning to her- he had forgotten she was there. She frowns, strands of bright green hair falling over her face. “Because I will.”
He shakes his head, turning away, focusing his attention back on the argument. “I didn’t even DO ANYTHING!” Nine yells.
“YOU ALWAYS DO SOMETHING!” Paige retaliates. “YOU- we were chill, and then we start fighting like- that!” She clicks her fingers.
“Lower your voices,” Cookie interrupts, taking a step forwards, standing at the edge of the table, looking between the two. “Straining your vocal chords contributes very little to the outcome of this discussion.”
She sighs. “Look. Paige did badly. Nine did badly. Done. You’re both in deep shit. Now, are we gonna play the blame game, or find a way out of this mess?”
“We agreed that, and here we are!” Paige hisses, her voice rising up a pitch.
“Hush.” Cookie says. “Lower. When I said stop shouting, I meant it.”
The younger god folds her arms, looking down like a petulant child. “Sorry,” she mumbles.
Cookie puts her hands together. “Now. Do we have a plan for getting past this?” Her tone sounded exactly like it did whenever she spoke to Sergei and Flotz, and the parental direction her words had suddenly taken did nothing to cool down Nine’s temper.
“Why would we?” Paige mutters. “Nine doesn’t talk to anyone.”
“Wh-” Nine starts, pupils narrowing, his teeth bared. “I was literally just pacing back and forth!”
“Let’s not go and make statements in the place of others,” Cookie warns. “That’s where observation bias comes in. Nine, how about you? Any constructive ideas to repair this very obvious rift in our team? We can’t win a war if we’re still fighting battles between ourselves.”
“Nope.” Paige answers, glaring at him, and he grits his teeth, throwing his hands in the air.
”I’m going to take a break,” Nine announces. “So this doesn’t get worse.”
“That’s a wonderful idea,” Cookie says, her eyes lighting up, and Nine resists the urge to punch her in the face. “Take five, both of you.”
He stalks off, sending one final glare in Paige’s direction before hopping off of the boat- Ophio? Ophio-something?-, boarding a smaller one. Every boat had smaller, one-man crafts attached to them, just in case. This boat’s one wasn’t special, by any means- painted yellow and blue. Upon closer inspection, he could see the shimmer that came with summoned objects, as opposed to handmade ones. It was so subtle, ordinary humans wouldn’t be able to notice it- but Nine was no ordinary human. He hadn’t been one for a while.
Grabbing the oars, he detaches his small craft from the main boat, untying the rope that connected the two. And then, he began to row.
Quickly cutting ahead of the Ophio-something, which had been slowed down to account for all the other boards it was leading, he paddled through the pink water.
Otherworld’s weird, Nine thinks. The ocean is pink, and the sky above is dwarfed by a large copper moon, almost enveloping the stars. It’s far closer than Earth’s moon is, that’s for sure. It remains eerily still, despite the waves lapping at the boat’s hull, despite the wind gently blowing through the sails.
He shakes that thought off, continuing ahead. The silence is unnerving- he can still see the boats behind him, a smudge on the horizon. Why they weren’t moving faster, he didn’t know- maybe it was a military thing?
Either way, he could only faintly hear someone yelling- Mary, he thought. Why would she be yelling? Mary never yelled.
Oh, well. None of his business.
Nine continues onwards.
Sometimes, if he focuses, he can hear humming. Is it the magic in the air, pulled from the stars for the use of those able to use it? Was the humming of the Edan tree, of the fruits pulled from its branches, inherited from its home?
At the thought of the Edan tree, a stone- a seed- settled in his stomach. The glowing golden fruit, that tasted of lemonade and cotton candy, the same flavours that if he swallows, he can still taste- that fruit was a lie. It was an apple, a pomegranate- the devil’s fruit was a myth he was familiar with by proxy, but he had never expected it to happen to him.
Until it had.
Nobody knew. Well, that was a lie- the eldritch surely knew, aside from Florann, he supposed. Daishin knew. Those brackets Paige had always talked about, they knew.
The thought of Paige, when they had been friends, when they had sat in a field together weaving flowers, was too much to bear, so he pushed it away.
It was a long time ago, he told himself. A year ago, give or take. And for somebody whose life consisted of gods showing up every three seconds to try and kill everybody, a year was a long time.
He thought of the feeling of the Warp Amulet in his hand, the smooth emerald.
It was a long time ago.
Glitch’s face would forever haunt his memories- the betrayal clear in his singular blue eye. Cythila’s face, too, crimson eyes looking into his own as she asked him if he was ready. Charlie’s- although he hadn’t known it at the time- eyes when he had taken her powers in the Herbalist, Nirvan behind him, surrounded by thorns aiming to kill.
He stops rowing, letting himself drift in the waves. Nine looks down at his hands, flexing the furred fingers. The magic in the air- he could use it, too. He wasn’t meant to. His own abilities were stolen. All he could do on his own was hide- like a coward. Like he had always been. Always running away.
A rumble breaks him out of his thoughts, and he looks up. As he had been thinking, a layer of mist had set in, surrounding his small boat. Glancing back, Nine could no longer see the Ophio-something (Ophiotaurus?), and the other boats accompanying it. He was entirely alone. It was just him, and the massive vessel rapidly approaching through the curtain of fog.
Wait, what?
He tenses, eyes widening as the ship approaches, a massive thing, made out of scrap wood and metal. The cannons crudely attached to the side of it were armed by eldritch- ten- twenty- fifty- seventy- too many to count.
“HEY!” One of them screams, and he flattens his ears, covering his head- and entirely missing the latter part of their statement.
The cannons fired, and he crouched down, flattening himself against the boat. In the distance, he heard the distinctive sound of cannonballs hitting their targets, and winced.
Suddenly, his boat was lifted in the air by a massive wave. He clung onto the edge, barely managing to stay aboard, and looked over at the water’s source.
A massive beast stood in the water- a wall, almost. His limbs were easily the size of the largest boat in their fleet, if not larger, but his head was tiny- like somebody swapped the heads of an American Girl and a Barbie doll.
“Hello, little man.” He rumbles, looking Nine dead in the eye.
“…who’re you calling little?” Nine asks, after a few moments, gathering his courage. He wasn’t going to run again.
Screams sounded out from behind, and the sound of frantically flapping wings joined them.
“I am the Urge,” the behemoth announces. “I am the being which personifies all temptations of all creatures.” In the blink of an eye, massive metal gauntlets had been attached to his hands. “And you look oh so tasty, mini man.”
“NOPE!” Nine shrieks, “NOPE, NOPE-” He reaches out for the oars, but in his adrenaline, all knowledge of how to operate a boat has fled his mind, leaving it blank, only one thought spinning around in his head- RUN! “Fuck you! Bitch!”
The Urge reaches down, and oh wow, he was really high up now, huh. The beast’s massive fingers clutched his sweater, dangling him like a yo-yo. “So… so tasty…”
That’s just weird! Nine thinks, swinging back and forth. He summons Sergei and Life’s powers, ice forming in one palm, fire in the other, and shoots both of them at the behemoth. The ice froze the Urge’s mouth, and he dropped Nine, sending him tumbling down. Grabbing onto the beast’s shoulder, he positions himself by its head, breathing heavily.
The ice cracks, and the Urge grunts. “OW!” He shrieked. “You tried to hurt me, you piece of fur!”
“You tried to EAT ME!” He shot back, trying to steady himself.
The Urge swung one meaty fist at him, but he summoned his own power, quickly cloaking himself, before using Charlie’s power to warp away. The teleport left him dizzy, as it always did, and lemonade-cotton-candy-tasting bile rose up in his mouth.
Blinking, he looks around, quickly coming to the realisation that he had landed back on his own boat. “IGNIS!” He shouted, the magic Luchine had been gifted- and the magic he had stolen- coming to his aid, three blasts of fire hitting the Urge’s back.
The beast swung his head around, beady eyes searching the sea. “Come out, little fur boy,” he sang, before raising his arm. “Fire at the ready!”
“Huh?”
He drops his arm, and cannonballs shoot past him, aiming at the ships. Nine yelps, ducking, before looking up. The Urge’s eyes were staring at him, and he froze, tail bristling.
“I can smell you, pretty boy,” the behemoth rumbles, and Nine makes a face at the name. Immediately, he brought forth Charlie’s ability again, warping around at random. It reminds him of the days when he still had the Warp Amulet, before he had any powers of his own.
He stops for a moment on the edge of the ramshackle boat, watching as the Urge points at his boat, a tiny thing from where he stood. Around him, the eldritch swung the ballistas around, aiming them at the craft.
“He’s moving!” The Urge yells, flattening his palm. “Brace yourselves for cognitive hazards!”
Nine clenches his fist, the hand glowing green and gold as seaweed rises up from the depths, reaching up at the Urge and his ship like claws. He glances at the eldritch beside him, and then warps once more, aiming for the Ophiotaurus.
He ends up in the middle of the ship’s deck, visible, and surrounded by eldritch.
He grit his teeth, flexing his hands, before summoning the one power he had sworn he wouldn’t use- the one gifted to him by Cythila, long ago, the one that came packaged in with the Edan fruit and the loss of his humanity.
Nine bared his teeth, claws digging into the deck as two feet turned into four, his face changing like those kids’ had, in those weird books Paige had lent him a while back. (He hadn’t actually read them- just flipped through them, watching the little animation in the corner.)
Slamming into the eldritch around him with the ferocity of a tiger, he bat them away, diving forwards with a snarl on his lips. He has to live. He has to apologise to Paige, and fix everything with Glitch and Cookie, and talk to Nirvan and Astrumare and Luchine again. He has to punch Cythila in the face, just once, before he goes out. He wasn’t going to die on some stupid ship, in an upside-down world, alone, surrounded by the monsters he had become.
Warm blood splatters his nose, and he growls, letting go of the beast-like form he had slipped into, turning back into a regular human (with ears and paws and a tail and too many eyes). The eldritch advance, spears and swords shining silver pointing at him. “Surrender, Nine of the Basement.” One of them intones. “Surrounded, you are.”
“Dude, stop talking like Yoda,” the one beside them mutters.
“Okay, well, we’ll kill this guy, and get lunch later.”
Nine ignores them, panting, looking up. Through the mist, he catches a glimpse of green, and a grin splits his bloodstained face. Cookie!
Then, shooting past her-
Missiles. Painted electric blue and yellow, Lightning’s colours, they were aiming at him.
Oh, that was right. Lightning had invented missiles that targeted eldritch, and only worked on them. He had been very proud of it, Nine remembers.
I’m eldritch, Nine thinks. And then: oh, fuck, I’m eldritch!
“Are you ready?” Cythila had asked him, a long time ago. No, he had thought. Of course not. How can I ever be ready?
He wasn’t ready to die. He wasn’t ready to go out. How could one ever be ready to die? He was barely seventeen- how could he ever be ready? What sort of life had he even lived? What sort of life was a life that ended before it was meant to begin?
Nine looks death in the eye, and thinks, I don’t want to die here.
But he knows he is going to.
And as it approaches, all he can think is that he’s not ready.
And then the missile hits.
And everything is swallowed by fire.
That night, astronomers on Earth look up at the sky and notice a new star. Usually, it would be strange- but coupled with everything else that had been happening, it simply wasn’t that big of a deal. When the star was being named, the wind was whispering. Something urged the astronomers onwards, something unearthly. But they simply shrugged, and listened to the breeze, listening to what the earth had to say.
And when Nine’s Star is added to the International Astronomical Union’s database, nobody bats an eye.