Chapter 2 - Reunion

Even children know that the monsters spewed out from The Verge are dangerous, vicious mindless beasts that brought nothing but carnage and destruction. The Rift-Touched were in some ways even more dangerous. Former humans who had been corrupted by The Verge, deranged monsters who lost their previous identities entirely and became a walking corpse fueled only by the twisted emotions of The Verge.

But faced with the familiar beaming face of her closest childhood friend, in this moment Aiko forgot about all of that.

"Aiko! Oh, it's so good to see you again! I looked everywhere! I knew Mr. Thorne could find you, he knows everyone who matters in the city, even the nobodies hiding away in boring offices!" Her voice was still that bizarre mix of breathless enthusiasm and an underlying crackle, like static over a bad connection.

The joy in that monstrous face was genuine, terrifyingly so. But the hug was a bit more than Aiko could take. Elara’s slender arms, ending in those obsidian-sharp points, were wrapped around Aiko with the crushing force of a hydraulic press. Aiko felt her vertebrae grind, a white-hot spike of pain lancing up her spine. She couldn't breathe. Spots danced before her eyes, obscuring the violet glow.

"Elara…" Aiko wheezed, her voice thin and strained. "I'm really happy… to see you too. But… you're… crushing my spine…"

Elara blinked, the violet light dimming slightly in surprise. "Oh! Silly me!" she chirped, releasing Aiko instantly.

Aiko stumbled back, gasping for air, one hand flying to her lower back. Waves of nausea washed over her. She leaned heavily against the door to Mr. Thorne's massive office, her legs trembling violently. The relief from the pressure was immediate, but the shock and the lingering pain were profound. She stared at Elara, who was now bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet, radiating pure, uncomplicated glee, seemingly unaware of the near-paralysis she’d almost caused.

A dry, deliberate cough echoed through the cavernous office. Mr. Thorne, the impeccably suited man behind the desk, steepled his fingers again. His expression remained impassive, a mask of cool control. "While I'm touched by the reunion," he stated, his voice smooth and warm, like a caring grandfather who still lived out in the country on the ole family farm, "I do have other pressing matters to attend to this evening. I trust you ladies can see yourselves out?" His gaze, sharp and assessing, lingered on Aiko for a fraction of a second longer, conveying a silent assessment of which she was unsure what conclusions were ultimately drawn.

"Of course, Mr. Thorne!" Elara chirped, offering a little wave with her clawed hand. "Thank you ever so much for your help! You're the best!" She turned back to Aiko, her violet eyes bright. "Ready to go home, Aiko?"

Before Aiko could process the question Elara raised her other hand and tore the air in front of her apart. Not like fabric tearing, but like reality itself had fractured. A jagged, vertical line of impossible darkness appeared, spitting violet sparks and radiating a wave of intense cold and a smell like fresh decay. Beyond the tear, Aiko caught a glimpse of swirling, ash-grey skies and jagged, unnatural shapes.

Aiko’s breath hitched. The cold, calculated menace of Mr. Thorne’s office suddenly seemed slightly more welcoming when compared to the chaotic, alien horror shimmering in that rift. She froze, her gaze darting between the impassive mob boss and the literal gateway to hell her childhood friend had just opened.

"Elara…" Aiko whispered, her voice trembling. "Where does that…?"

"Home!" Elara repeated cheerfully, stepping forward and vanishing into the darkness without hesitation.

Aiko stared at the pulsating void. Terror warred with a desperate, illogical trust in the ghost of the girl she’d known. Staying meant facing whatever Mr. Thorne’s ‘pressing matters’ might entail, or worse, being left alone with his stone-faced goons.

The rift was terrifying, and Elara's new form still gave her goosebumps every time she looked at her, but somehow she still felt like Elara. Still acting like the bubbly, endless pit of joy that Aiko had remembered her being.

With a whimper that was half fear, half resignation, Aiko closed her eyes and stepped through the tear in the world.

The transition was near instantaneous. The sterile coolness of the penthouse vanished, replaced by a choking, sulphurous heat. The silence shattered into a cacophony of distant, unearthly shrieks and the grinding groan of shifting rock. Aiko stumbled, her shoes slipping on loose, gritty ash.

Hell. That was the best word she could use to describe what she was looking at. Laid out in front of her was an endless, desolate plain blanketed by a perpetually twilight sky filled with violet stars. Jagged obsidian spires clawed towards those stares like broken teeth, as if the ground itself was trying to take a bite out of the sky.

In the distance, the skeletal remains of twisted skyscrapers formed an apocalyptic parody of the city she knew. The air tasted of metal and decay, a tinge of sulfur making it hard to breathe without burning her lungs. The ground itself wasn't earth, but a mix of coarse black sand, sharp volcanic rock, and patches of sickly, phosphorescent moss. Although she had never personally visited this place before she knew exactly where they were now. They were standing inside The Verge.

"See?" Elara said, gesturing expansively with her clawed hands. "Home sweet home! Well, it's a bit of a fixer-upper, but it has a view that’s out of this world!" She giggled, a sound that echoed strangely in the oppressive atmosphere. "Come on! We shouldn't linger here. Too much exposure to the raw energies of The Verge isn't great for regular humans, if you stick around too long you will most certainly die!"

She started walking with a confident stride towards a cluster of the skeletal ruins, her form seeming almost to blend with the shadows despite the violet glow of her eyes. Aiko thought briefly about heading back out through the rift behind her before it suddenly snapped closed. Faced with no other option, she scrambled after Elara, her heart pounding against her ribs.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, Aiko struggling to keep pace on the treacherous ground, her mind a whirlwind of terror and confusion. Where to even begin? The gunpoint abduction? The mob boss? The monstrous transformation? The literal hellscape? She grasped for the most 'normal' part of the whole situation.

"Elara…" Aiko panted, trying to keep her voice steady. "Who… who was that man? Mr. Thorne?"

Elara glanced back, her violet eyes bright. "Oh, Mr. Thorne? He's great! He sorta runs things downtown? Helps keep things organized. He helps me stay out of the Luminaries' radar, and in return I help him with any problems that require a supernatural touch. Like if someone oversteps into his turf or isn’t paying what they owe. It's fun! Like being a superhero, but for actual people instead of weird space cats!"

Aiko stared, horrified. Elara described being a mob enforcer with the same enthusiasm she'd once reserved for debating the best magical girl transformation sequences. "Organized? Elara, he had men drag me out of my apartment at gunpoint!"

Elara waved a clawed hand dismissively. "Oh, that? Just a little harmless persuasion, I made sure Mr. Thorne knew you were not to be harmed. And look!" She gestured at her. "It worked! You're here! Safe and sound! Well, mostly sound." She eyed Aiko's hunched posture. "Sorry again about the spine thing, usually when I interact with people it’s because I actually need to break some of their bones."

Aiko swallowed hard, the taste of ash thick in her throat. The cheerful nonchalance at working for the mafia was starting to worry her,. "And the new look? Was that due to Mr. Thorne as well?"

"Oh, no, no, no! I got this new body long before I met Mr. Thorne. Honestly, Aiko, this is the best thing that ever happened to me!" She launched into a breathless list. "I can fly! Well, sort of glide with energy bursts. It's tricky! And I'm super strong, obviously." She flexed an arm, the grey skin straining slightly. "And the magic! Oh, the things I can do! See?" She pointed a claw at a nearby boulder. A thin beam of violet light lanced out, striking the rock. It didn't explode, but silently rotted, crumbling into foul-smelling dust in seconds. "Neat, huh? And just last week, I tangled with Nova Blaze! You know, the red haired girl with the twin blades? The new up and coming Luminary? It was epic! She interrupted one of Mr. Thorne’s deals and I had to fight her. Mr. Thorne got a little angry at me for leveling his safehouse, but it was so much fun!"

Aiko stopped walking, her blood running cold. The sheer, casual joy Elara took in describing a destructive battle with one of Earth's protectors was chilling. The Elara she remembered adored the Luminaries, plastered her walls with their posters, dreamed of being one. This callous delight in conflict felt like a fundamental betrayal of the girl she knew. "Fun? Elara, she's a hero! She protects people!"

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Elara stopped too, turning to face Aiko. The violet light in her eyes flickered, a hint of something harder surfacing beneath the cheer. "Hero?" she scoffed, the crackle in her voice intensifying. "They're glorified attack dogs, Aiko. Puppets working for Celestials. They protect people because that is the status quo the aliens want to maintain." She gestured to herself. "But what have they actually done about the Verge itself? Nothing. Nothing except hunt down anyone touched by the Verge, anyone who doesn't fit their pretty, sanitized vision of humanity. They call us monsters, but have you ever looked beneath their shiny surface? There's something… rotten at the heart of it all. Something the Celestials are hiding."

"What? What are they hiding? What's rotten?"

Elara shrugged, the momentary intensity fading back into cheerful vagueness. "Dunno yet! Still figuring it out. But I will. That's the plan! Shake things up, expose the truth!" She beamed. "And that's where you come in, bestie!"

Aiko felt a fresh wave of dread. The manic energy, the paranoia, the unquestioning loyalty to a mob boss… Mr. Thorne wasn't just using Elara; he was feeding her delusions, manipulating her power for his own ends. "Elara…" Aiko began cautiously, "Mr. Thorne… are you sure he's telling you the truth? Maybe… maybe he's just using you?"

Elara tilted her head, a flicker of confusion crossing her face. "Using me? Don't be silly, Aiko. He helps me. We help each other. Like partners!" She clapped her hands together, the sharp points clicking. "Now come on! We're almost there! You're gonna love this surprise!"

She bounded ahead with renewed energy, leaving Aiko no choice but to follow, the sense of impending doom tightening like a vice around her chest. The skeletal ruins loomed larger, forming a canyon of twisted metal and shattered concrete. The air grew colder, the unnatural sounds louder. Elara rounded a jagged outcrop of fused debris.

"Ta-da!" she announced, spreading her arms wide.

Aiko stopped dead. They stood at the edge of a small clearing within the ruins. And standing guard around the perimeter were… creatures.

Hulking was an understatement. They stood easily fifteen feet tall, their forms a grotesque fusion of insectile chitin, exposed muscle the colour of raw meat, and bony protrusions. Multiple limbs ended in scythe-like claws or crushing pincers. Faceless heads swiveled towards her, emitting low, guttural clicks. Rift-spawn. Monsters. Pure nightmare fuel.

Aiko’s breath froze in her lungs and she instinctively stepped back, unable to tear her gaze away from the creatures in front of her.

So she tried looking away and that’s when she saw it. Lying in the centre of the clearing, guarded by the hulking monstrosities, was a body.

It wore the tattered remains of a costume – brilliant sapphire blue and silver, now stained with dark ichor, dust and blood. Plus, even at this distance she could make out the expression permanently etched into her face in death. Pale, lifeless, eyes staring sightlessly at the swirling violet sky. Aiko turned away, feeling the sense of bile rising up in her throat.

A Luminary. A dead Luminary.

A strangled scream tore from Aiko’s throat. She stumbled back, tripping over loose rubble and landing hard on her hands and knees, scrambling backwards like a crab, unable to tear her horrified gaze away from the corpse. Death. Violent, ugly death. Right here. Right in front of her.

"Whoa, easy there!" Elara was beside her in an instant, hauling her upright with terrifying ease. "Don't be scared! These are just my little darlings! Meet Grumbles, Snips, Crushy, and… uh… the other one! They're my familiars! Totally harmless! Well, to us." She patted the flank of the nearest monstrosity, which emitted a sound like grinding rocks. "Good job boys! Fantastic work guarding our prize!"

"Prize?" Aiko gasped, her voice raw with terror, staring at the dead hero. "Elara… that’s… that’s a person! A Luminary! What… what have you done?"

Elara blinked, slightly taken aback by Aiko’s reaction. "What have I done? Oh, don’t worry, I didn’t kill her, she was already long dead when I found her. Well, when they found her." She gestured to the familiars. "Probably got in over her head and got attacked by one of the big ones lurking around here. A Luminary going at it alone so deep in the Verge is borderline suicidal, but it happens sometimes. Quite sad, really." But her tone held no sadness, her tone still chipper as if she was merely giving the poor girl lip service. "But look! See that?" She pointed to the Luminary’s chest, near the wound that most likely killed her. Nestled amongst the torn fabric and stained armour was a gem. It was roughly the size of a chicken egg, but its usual crystalline purity was gone. It pulsed with a sickly, unstable deep green with the occasional flickering of dying blue.

"That," Elara said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper filled with excitement, "is the opportunity! Normally, when a Luminary dies, poof! The Celestials recall the transformation gem instantly. Making sure to keep their power out of the reach of regular humans. But this Luminary died out here, deep in the Verge, where their reach is weak. So the gem stayed put, and the Verge… the Verge touched it. Changed it. Corrupted it."

Aiko stared at the pulsating, corrupted gem, then back at Elara’s eager, violet-lit face, a horrible understanding dawning. "No… Elara, no…"

"Yes!" Elara grabbed Aiko’s shoulders, her grip firm but, thankfully, not spine-snapping this time. Her eyes blazed. "Don't you see? This is it, Aiko! The dream! Remember? The greatest magical girl team ever! But better! Free from the Celestials! Free from their lies! This gem… it’s not bound to them anymore. It’s saturated with Verge energy. If a human touches it and claims it… they don't become a Luminary puppet. They become like me! Rift-Touched, but in control! We can do it together, Aiko! Just like we always said! Just reach out… touch it… claim your power!"

The cheerful insanity of the request, delivered with such earnest, manic hope, finally broke Aiko. The terror, the confusion, the grief for the dead Luminary, the horror at what her friend had become. It all coalesced into a single, desperate refusal.

"NO!" The word ripped out of her, louder than she intended, echoing slightly off the jagged ruins. She wrenched herself out of Elara’s grasp. "Are you insane? Look at her, Elara! She's dead! That thing…" she pointed a shaking finger at the corrupted gem, "it's… it's evil! It killed her! And look at you! You're working for a mob boss, talking about fighting heroes like it's a game, and surrounding yourself with the very monsters that kill people! You want me to become… that? To become like you? I don't want this power! I don't want any of this!" Tears streamed down Aiko’s face, hot and furious. "I just want my friend back! The real Elara!"

Elara recoiled as if slapped. The manic light in her eyes flickered, dimmed. The wide smile vanished, replaced by a look of profound confusion and hurt. She stared at Aiko, her grey face seeming to pale further. The cheerful mask slipped, revealing a glimpse of something lost and bewildered beneath the violet glow and the monstrous form. The familiars shifted uneasily, sensing the shift in their mistress.

"Aiko…" Elara whispered, the crackle in her voice softer now, almost plaintive. "But… it's our dream…"

"It's a nightmare!" Aiko choked out. She turned, stumbling, driven by pure instinct to flee this hellish clearing, this monstrous friend, this impossible choice. She didn't get far. One of the hulking familiars, 'Crushy' or 'Snips' or whatever, moved with deceptive speed, a massive, chitinous limb blocking her path, not touching her, but forming an impassable wall.

Aiko froze, bracing herself. Would they kill her? Drag her back? Force her to touch the dead Luminary's gem? Her mind raced, picturing the gun in the apartment doorway, the cold efficiency of Mr. Thorne, the crushing hug. She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the next terrifying monster to drag her further and further away from her life.

But, it didn't come.

After a long, agonizing moment filled only by the moan of the Verge wind, Elara spoke, her voice small and flat, devoid of its usual energy. "Let her go."

The familiar lowered its limb.

Aiko opened her eyes, shocked. Elara wasn't looking at her. She was staring at the corrupted gem, her back turned, shoulders slumped. The violet light from her eyes cast long, mournful shadows.

"Elara…" Aiko started, unsure.

"Just go, Aiko," Elara murmured, not turning around. She pointed a claw towards a gap in the ruins opposite where they’d entered. "That way. Follow the path down. It leads to a small rift at the city outskirts. Grumbles will make sure nothing… bothers… you." One of the smaller familiars detached itself from the group and shambled towards the indicated path, stopping and waiting.

The dismissal was absolute. The hurt radiated off Elara in waves. Aiko hesitated, torn between the overwhelming urge to escape and a sudden, crushing wave of pity. What had happened to her? Trapped in this hellscape, twisted into a monster, manipulated by a criminal, clinging to a corrupted childhood dream? Had she been alone all these years in this terrifying place? The cheerful facade suddenly seemed unbearably fragile.

Slowly, cautiously, Aiko began to back away, towards the path and the waiting familiar. Elara didn't move, a statue of grey despair silhouetted against the swirling, bruised sky, surrounded by her monstrous guards, standing vigil over a dead hero and a corrupted dream.

Aiko turned and started walking, Grumbles falling into step beside her, its multiple legs clicking on the volcanic rock. She moved quickly at first, fueled by residual terror, putting distance between herself and the clearing, the corpse, the unbearable sadness radiating from her friend. The path descended sharply, winding through canyons of fused debris and skittering with unseen things that retreated from the familiar’s presence.

With each step, the image of Elara's slumped shoulders, the utter defeat in her posture, burned brighter in Aiko’s mind than the violet glow of her eyes. The terror receded, replaced by an aching, profound pity. She hadn't just refused power; she'd rejected her friend in her darkest, most monstrous hour. She’d called her a nightmare.

She's alone, Aiko realized, the truth hitting her like a physical blow. Completely, utterly alone. In this place. With those things. With Mr. Thorne using her. The Elara she knew was still in there, buried under the grey skin and violet light and cheerful insanity.

Aiko stopped walking. Grumbles halted beside her, its faceless head tilting slightly. They were far enough now that the clearing was out of sight, the oppressive atmosphere marginally less intense. She looked back up the path they’d descended, towards the friend she had left behind.

Could she really just walk away? Back to her miserable apartment? Back to Henderson’s sneering 'See you tomorrow'? Back to a life of grey resignation while Elara spiraled further into darkness, used by a mob boss, hunted by the heroes she once adored, trapped in a monstrous form she called ‘the best thing that ever happened’?

"No," Aiko whispered, the word firming her resolve. She couldn't save Elara by running. She couldn't leave her alone like this.

It was insane. It was suicidal. It meant embracing the very corruption that terrified her. But the thought of leaving Elara alone in that hellscape felt worse.

"Grumbles," Aiko said, her voice surprisingly steady. "Take me back. Please."

The familiar tilted its head again, then turned without a sound and began shambling back up the path. Aiko followed, her heart pounding not just with fear now, but with a grim determination.

They reached the edge of the clearing. The other monsters were still standing guard over the body, but Elara was nowhere in sight

The body was exactly where Aiko had last seen it. The corrupted gem pulsing on the dead Luminary's chest like a diseased heart.

Aiko walked forward, her steps firm now, purposeful. She approached the body, forcing herself not to look at the dead girl's face, focusing solely on the corrupted gem. Its unstable light seemed to pulse in time with her own frantic heartbeat. She knelt in the coarse black sand, the grit digging into her knees.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, the apology directed at the fallen hero, a plea for understanding. "I'm not doing this for power. I'm doing this to save my friend."

Taking a deep, shuddering breath that tasted of ash and ozone, Aiko reached out. Her hand trembled violently, hovering inches above the pulsating gem. The air crackled around it, raising the hairs on her arm. The violet-black veins within the corrupted crystal seemed to writhe, sensing her presence. Every instinct screamed to pull back, to run.

She closed her eyes, picturing not the monster, but the girl on the bed surrounded by manga, dreaming impossible dreams. The friend who reached out to a loser like her and never gave up on her.

With a final surge of resolve, Aiko pressed her palm flat against the corrupted transformation gem.

A cold sensation shot its way through her body. Like the freezing touch of grabbing a fistful of ice cubes in one’s bare hands.

But usually when one did so they would feel the ice start to melt from their body heat. But here? The opposite seemed to occur. Aiko felt her body melt away upon contact with the gem, as if it was liquifying her hand so that it could drink it like a straw.

Then came the pull. Not physical, but a soul-deep suction, as if the gem was a black hole tearing at the very core of her being. The unstable light flared, blinding green mixed with corrosive black, enveloping her hand, her arm, surging towards her chest.

A soundless scream ripped through her mind. The world dissolved into searing pain and impossible light. The last thing she registered before oblivion claimed her was the sickening crackle of energy, the overwhelming scent of ozone and decay.

Before it all faded away into nothing.