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The rough, scaly hands on their shoulders aren’t very helpful in reassuring them in such caliginosity. They can’t see her, but they know that Susie is behind them; her rough, shaky breathing resounds in their ear and they can feel her breaths on their neck. That’s reassuring.
Their eyes are almost fully shut with how much they’re squinting; in front of them, the washed-out grey path forward, strewn with loose, yellowing parchment and bent books, is barely visible. Every so often, their foot lands on a stray paper and they slip, only to be held in place by Susie. Ornate bookshelves of faded cerulean wood—such a thing is possible, apparently—line their either side, each level stuffed with ancient tomes and leather-bound volumes as heavy as their head.
The further they go, the darker it gets, the more they squint, to the point of futility. It’s entirely dark now; all their eyes see is black, no photons to be spoken of. They’re soldiered on regardless. Susie’s heaves are now scarcely audible against the whooshing, the fluttering of sheets, the distant rumble that shakes their very bones.
It comes out of nowhere: a blistering pain that erupts all over their chest, spiderwebbing to their extremities and it would have certainly thrown them off balance if it weren’t for—thank the Angel—Susie. A surprised noise escapes her throat as she stands them straight.
They continue; they have no choice either way. Next, it’s Susie and Ralsei. They feel how they both stumble back, and the world tilts for a second. Just for one second. They persevere regardless. It’s ruthlessly dark, and each step taken is taken in fear of slamming into something. They persevere regardless. It’ll work itself out in the end; they’ll be okay.
Abruptly, they slam into a “wall”. Reeling, they make what they hope is a ninety-degree turn to the left; their estimate is likely correct because now the roaring wind is hitting them square in the face. It screams desperately in their ears and surely peels back their skin comically; they blink and all the moisture produced is gone within the second.
“D… Damn it!” grits Susie irately. Her voice carries across the howling wind like it’s nothing. “It’s so dark… we can’t see anything… If this keeps up, we’ll be…” she trails off abruptly.
She trails off because now they can see. They see their own armoured, cyan arm protectively held in front of their face. They see Susie’s wild mane of electric purple hair fluttering erratically, and they see Ralsei’s magenta scarf stoically fluttering around his neck like a battle flag. They see papers and light books fly past them, and they see physical waves of air pulsing past them, blood red.
There’s light. There’s warmth, despite the biting cold. It blooms and bubbles from deep in their ribcage, sending sparks and chills all over them. It burns insistently and sets their very will on fire, the heat hugging them close like a protective coating.
“K… Kris?” Ralsei speaks softly.
“Kris…?” Susie questions, subdued. “What is that… light?”
They want to scream because they know what it is. It couldn’t possibly be anything else. Instead, they trudge on, struggling for each step but inching forward nonetheless. As expected, it doesn’t take long for the Knight to continue its salvoes. A vantablack sword materializes before them, and they barely move out of the way before it can steal a significant chunk of their HP.
It’s not easy. Everything around is working precisely against them; it’s a battle to stay standing upright in the first place, let alone face the Knight condition. Its next sword strikes them straight in the shoulder. They’re brought to their knees in a coughing fit, but they’re hoisted up by Ralsei and Susie instantaneously.
Even when they’re struck, they continue because they have to, they want to. The insistent pulsing in their chest tells them to continue fighting. Its light and warmth fills them to the brim and spills over the top, bathing their surroundings in an incandescent glow. It’s wonderful. It’s beautiful.
This isn’t the meek, little red heart that they beat half to oblivion in Noelle’s closet. This isn’t the same one that despondently, dejectedly lies in the cage they slam it in, defeated. This is the one that can and did defeat the Knight, sustaining no damage, even when they’re actively doing everything in their power to subjugate its efforts.
Even when they’re totally struck down and can’t tank any more hits, they have Susie. She takes the brunt of the attack, they help her up, and she heads the party forward. The light spills onto her, too, painting her a galvanic purple. Their chest may seize from the warmth, but they try their damnedest to coil around it and use it.
“S… Susie!” exclaims Ralsei, pinprick eyes glinting behind his glasses. “What are you doing…!?” It’s not enough to deter any of them… because the light shines brighter than ever as Susie takes the helm and they continue despite everything. It’s bright white, defeating, and it explodes from their chestplate, and it’s all they can do to tear their eyes away from it and focus on what’s ahead. Now, the swords are completely unfair and impossible to avoid.
Even when Susie is totally struck down, Ralsei is there to take her place. She braces, arm at her eyes, like a glorious hero whose greatness was written in the books, and he sidesteps around her, arms staunchly cross behind his back, and then he’s knocked down too. But he gets up. They get him up.
“Susie… Kris…” he smiles, and it ignites them anew, “as long as… there’s any pain I can take in your place… I’ll be there, okay?”
They continue. The wind is even stronger now; if they were any lighter, they’d be blown away. But the light grounds them, the heat solidifies and melts them to the ground. It floods from him but channels Ralsei, and they all march forward in a triangle, the strongest shape in the universe.
Now, they can feel it physically pulsing in them, beating at their ribs like a second heart. Instead of blood, it pumps warmth, hope, will, all over them and all around them, spreading like a benign disease. It’s inside them, yes, but it feels as though it is everywhere. It is radiant. It is spectacular.
Ralsei takes another hit, and just as they think this is where it ends, the sanguine gale begins to subside, the light fades, and a godsend doorway filters into view, shrouded by more shelves of ancient tomes. “…Looks like that’s the end of it,” he says.
“...Yeah,” affirms Susie pensively before turning to them sporting a shark’s grin, showing off teeth that can mangle you in twenty thousand unique ways. “...Let’s finish this.”
They all fall into step and are led forward, but all they can think about as they’re mechanically pulled on is that light, that iridescence that spilled from them—from it—and the warmth that embraced them all so dearly. The embers of that heat still burn lowly deep inside them, and they cling to its scraps like it’s their lifeforce, to respark it, to bask in it again.