Chapter Text
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Part I
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1
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Renoir laboriously opened his eyes. What was that’s thing ? An explosion? An attack? Or would he simply have fainted. At 55 years old, he was still much too young and fit for that, but nothing was impossible. He scanned the street with a still confused look. No, it wasn’t a malaise, or else it was collective. The passersby were also on the ground, sounded but mostly whole. He ran a hand through his mass of graying black hair, gently massaging his temple to try to calm the ringing in his ears. A breath of anguish took him thinking about his wife and children left at the mansion. Were they hurt by this thing that just happened? He should have stayed with them, foolish man. Suddenly, his anguish turned into terror. Alicia! Alicia, his youngest daughter, had accompanied him during his walk in the city.
“Alicia ?” he called out in his deep but trembling voice of fear
He raises his 1m90 with difficulty, gripping his cane to stabilize his muscular but damaged body while looking for his child. This earthquake or whatever it was will not take his daughter, it was out of the question. He had failed to protect her the first time during the fire that had ravaged the manor a few months earlier, a second failure was unthinkable. As long as he was able to breathe, he had sworn that nothing bad would happen to any of his children, even if it meant destroying anyone who stood in his way, friends or enemies. Despite his absence, Alicia owed her life to the vivacity and courage of his son who managed to extricate her from the flames. Otherwise, her fate would have been much more sinister. For weeks, he had been tormented by the thought of burying his youngest child and it still torments him today. There were, however, terrible consequences. Her beautiful face, once identical to her mother, was now nothing but scars and burns. The fire that had devastated the mansion had partially burned her upper body, making her unable to pronounce anything other than a few unintelligible hoarse sounds. Her right eye had also been lost, leaving only a black hole where her magnificent blue-gray eye was. The most surprising thing, however, was that her skin had bleached off in a strange white hue, as if all the colors of her body had fled the flames to leave only ashes. The only color that had resisted this carnage was her flamboyant red hair, giving a strange contrast that didn’t go unnoticed. Out of shame and despite her family’s attempts to comfort her, Alicia never went out without wearing a half-mask that hid most of her wounds. Despite all these horrors and sufferings, she had survived. Broken certainly, but she was still alive. Despite all Renoir’s efforts, Alicia was returning far too slowly to the world of the living for his taste, preferring to remain hidden in their mansion reading and writing. Today had been the first time since the accident when she agreed to accompany him for errands in the city. Seeing her father so desperate to see her reclusive and withdrawn, she felt that he would not let the situation worsen further. Soon or later, she would end up obeying him. She sort of didn’t have much of a choice. When her father had an idea in mind, she had learned a long time ago by observing his elders that it was better to give in to him than to confront him. Since she shared the same strong character as their father, her older sister preferred rebellion and making her voice heard, generating epic disputes when they disagreed. Fortunately for everyone’s mental and auditory health, Renoir and Cléa were generally always of the same opinion and only argued on very rare occasions.
As he continued to plead for help, a faint moan was heard coming from behind him. He turned quickly in that direction, his heart torn between hope and terror at this murmur. At the place where this faint rattle had been produced, a young girl with sparkling red hair was lying on the ground, face down, a few meters from him.
“Alicia!”
Forgetting the lancinating pain of his damaged knee, a legacy of an old war wound, he rushed towards her and took her in his arms before gently turning it over. A feeling of relief came over him when he carefully hugged his daughter against his chest and felt her breathing against his shirt.
“Are you ok? Do you have pain somewhere?”
Alicia snuggled even more against her father’s warm and reassuring chest and shook her head negatively.
“Dazed ” she wrote after a few seconds on the little notebook she always carried with her since the accident.
Renoir let out a sigh of relief and rested his chin on the top of his daughter’s skull. Everything was fine, he could relax now. She was alive against him. He only needed to see the rest of his family to be totally relieved. Although convinced that his wife had done everything to protect their two other children and endowed with a worried temperament by nature, always seeking to protect his family at all costs, he couldn’t help but imagine the worst. Since the fire, his protection had also taken on disproportionate proportions, requiring to know every trip of the whole family at all times. This had led to some disputes between his elders, aged 26 and 27, and him. But it didn’t matter. As long as everyone was safe, he could well accept a few shouts and slammed doors. In public, his wife had supported him against everyone who stood up in front of him as she had always done during their 29 years of marriage. But in private, it was a completely different story. Aline made him pay for his intransigence. He had endured every evening before going to bed a plea to let their children breathe. She could reassure him and promise him that they risked nothing anymore, he couldn’t calm his anguish of seeing someone else from his family hurt, or even worse.
With the help of her father, Alicia gently stood up and swept the dust off her green pants and vest set with a wave. Renoir took the opportunity to examine his frail 1m55 body, on the lookout for any injury, finding none at his great relief.
“What was it, Papa?”
“Not a clue, I have the impression that the whole city has been affected.”
“Do you think it went all the way home?”
“I hope not, but given the extent of the damage here, I’m afraid so. Come, let’s not hang around here.” replied Renoir while taking his daughter’s hand.
With their legs still hesitant and trembling due to the attack, they progressed slowly in the devastated city, observing on their way the damage caused by the disaster. The buildings all around them were cracked in multiple places and covered at some others by huge blocks of dark blue stone. As if they had been torn from the inside, or twisted on the point of collapsing but held back by an invisible force. Piles of rubble and debris blocked their way in several places, forcing them to turn back or climb them when they had no choice. Some residents stumbled out of the buildings, haggard, tripping over the debris scattered on the pavement. Despite their urge to reach the manor as quickly as possible, they stopped several times to rescue people injured or simply lost in this chaos. Unfortunately, there were not only survivors and they crossed some inert bodies, fallen from the floors or crushed by pieces of buildings that didn’t withstand the disaster. Renoir did his best to hide them from his daughter’s eyes, but their number was too large for Alicia to miss them. Increasingly worried about the extent of the damage and losses, Alicia unconsciously moved closer to Renoir, seeking comfort near the imposing and familiar mass that is her father. Between two collapsed buildings on their right, they saw the Eiffel Tower whose summit, instead of pointing straight towards the sky, was dangerously twisted and directed towards the horizon. They remained for a few moments puzzled by this more than bewildering vision. The thing responsible for such damage had to deploy a colossal force to destroy and twist an entire city. Perhaps it had touched other regions than the city. A wave of fear descended along Renoir’s spine at this thought. Whatever it was, he hoped never to have to meet it again. But what his gray eyes scanning the horizon saw behind the tower was much more worrying than a broken city. Water, water as far as the eye can see. What should have been the north bank of the Seine was now a huge ocean, without any land visible to the naked eye. Well almost none. His gaze focused on this strange and immense monolith that now stands on the horizon, like a beacon emerging from the waves and defining the borders of the world. At its base, the giant shape of a woman with long white hair was crouched, her head between her legs and arms wrapping around her knees. At the top of the monolith, the number 100 was painted with a bright golden yellow, radiant and widely visible even from this distance. Both threatening and captivating, he couldn’t deviate his eyes, examining every corner of this novelty. How could this thing have appeared?
Under the pressure of Alicia on his arm, Renoir emerged from his torpidity and tilted his head in her direction.
“Papa, do you think she’s the one who attacked us?”
“It could be. Although I don’t understand how she could have done that. In any case, we should find a way to protect ourselves from it. If she is truly responsible, we are currently clearly defenceless against her.”
“I hope Maman, Cléa, and Verso are safe.” she wrote while casting an anxious glance at Renoir.
“Don’t worry. They are resourceful. I am sure they are all safe.” he said while trying to reassure her by putting an arm around his daughter’s shoulders and pressing her against him. “Come, let’s go find them.”
Reluctantly, they left the newly created monolith and ocean to continue their journey towards the manor located outside the city. Hoping with all the fibers of their bodies that they would find their loved one in one piece.