Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Tassadar's Legacy: Chronicles: Dark Light ❯ The More Answers, The More Questions ( Chapter 3 )

The next morning, Akira woke up and stretched, reveling in the feel of the luxury that is silk sheets. In mid stretch, her mind actually processed that her bed is normally made with cotton sheets, therefore, she is not in her bed. Sitting up abruptly and pulling the sheet up to cover herself, she stared around confused and a little panicky before she remembered last night.

Sighing, Akira flopped back in bed and blew up to get a bang of her hair out of her eyes. Firming herself for the start of the day and whatever lay in store for her as Abyssal Angel's guest, she sat up and pushed back the curtains and immediately wished she hadn't. Pounding techno echoed through the closed door and into her room, threatening a headache at this early hour. Yelping, Akira drew her head back in the curtains and covered her ears, and abruptly the music stopped. Lifting her head to stare, she suddenly wondered if Angel could see her. Bundling the sheets tighter around her chest, she pushed back the curtain and got hit again with a wave of techno and immediately let go of the curtain.

As soon as the curtain closed, the music cut off. Curious, Akira stuck one finger through the folds and lifted a little. Techno poured in until she let the curtain close again. Sound proof curtains... She stared in wonder and continued to adjust the curtain over and over, listening to the music stop and start. Where in the world does he get things like this? She asked herself. Opening the curtains again, she winced, then fell back into bed and decided to stay there for the moment. What in the world is he doing having music that loud in the morning?

Akira sighed and closed her eyes. It's just as well, as she couldn't think of anything to do even if she did get up. Settling down, she wondered how she would go about figuring out just who Angel is. Everyone knew the stories. She herself had lived through the war that made him famous, then later, Angel became the subject of History Class in school. Legend or myth, no one ever denied Angel's existence, or his being evil. But maybe they're wrong. Try as she might, she couldn't think of any reason for Angel to give her this room if he wished her harm. He is a hero according to the stories, just a really evil one. Hence his name, Abyssal Angel.

But why would he save her? Akira could not answer this and it frustrated her. Angel was known to have no compassion for the regular people. Instead, he avoided them and stuck to criminals, and not petty ones but the ones any decent person would think need to die to save others. There were plenty of stories of Angel sympathizers who tried to get close to him and always ended up getting hurt in the worst ways as he drove them off before they even got close. Yet here she is in his home!

Akira abruptly stopped trying to think. Chasing the problems in circles only ended up giving her more questions than when she started, and it was starting to make her head hurt. Sitting up, and covering her ears, she got out of bed and waited for her ears to adjust to the loud music. It's not that she didn't like techno; just waking up to it is a little much! She'd never even had to deal with this with... no she would not think of him again. He had loved techno, but this is ridiculous!

Walking over to the door, she chanced opening it quickly before slamming her hand back over her ear to block the volume coming through the now open door. Stepping inside, she expected to see a stereo with massive speakers. Instead, the same drab room greeted her, as well as the sight of Abyssal Angel in the same clothes in the exact same position on the floor, meditating. Isn't he going to change? Akira was slightly grossed out by his lack of hygiene and tried to shout over the music, “WOULD YOU TURN IT DOWN?!?” Abruptly, the music turned off, and Akira's ears were left ringing as she tried desperately to pop them to get them to stop.

When the ringing was gone, she heard Abyssal Angel say, “All you have to do is ask the room. It'll do whatever you say.” Akira blinked. What the heck did that mean? Angel wasn't forthcoming with any further explanation, so she simply sighed and, humoring him, told the room at large, “I'd like a couch and a large bowl of cheerios.” To her utter astonishment, a red poofy couch shot out of the floor towards the back of the room with a side table, and on that side table stood a large bowl of cheerios, but no milk. She sat down and asked, “Can I get some skim milk with that?” A carton of milk appeared on the table, and pouring it over her Cheerios, she dug in and promptly decided that she must've gone insane.

Why did she think she's insane? It's one thing to have a massage chair that can give professional massages. It's almost acceptable to have curtains that are completely sound proof. But a room that does what you ask?! She started giggling over her Cheerios. Soon, it had turned into raucous laughter as she bent over her bowl and some milk spilled onto the floor and promptly disappeared. She saw this and immediately sobered up. Even that is ridiculous. “This HAS to be a dream.” She decided aloud.

“You think a Builder has limits to what they can create?” Angel asked calmly. Akira considered this, and somehow, despite how simple yet crazy that statement is, somehow it made perfect sense. Someone who can create things with their mind's just by touching little pieces of meteorite, would probably be able to make anything they wished, regardless of technology available. How is it that he said something so simple and yet it answered a good amount of questions that she'd had? Feeling calmer, she asked, “So you really are a Builder?”

Abyssal Angel shifted slightly to face her, but didn't answer for a moment, trying to decide what to tell her, then settled for, “Yes and no.” She scrunched up her face in confusion, and asked, “What does that mean?” Angel answered, “A builder creates by remaining in contact with something that was created with one of the original pieces of Replicate, but can only touch it for half an hour before being forced to let it go for two days or be poisoned instantly. I don't have to do that. I can create when I wish, because I am Replicate.” Akira stared at Angel in shock. How in the world is he Replicate? You was said you could create anything with the unknown piece of space rock before the original hundred shards disappeared, but could it really create life? His explanation only offered more questions and theories that grew wilder and crazier by the minute, from him being a lab accident in the early days of experimenting with Replicate, to him being an alien who had sent the meteorite that had fragmented into a hundred pieces in the first place.

Akira shuddered. She hated remembering that day. It'd been over six years, but she still remembered it clearly. It was the day she'd received word her lover had died. A lot of people died that day in accidents when the shards hit gas tanks, transformers, gas viens, and other explosive materials. Shoving memories back down took some time, but after a few minutes, she regained herself, coming to a start when she realized she was crying. Wiping her face hurriedly, she buried her face into her Cheerios. Thankfully, Angel didn't comment. She finished the bowl and set it aside, and jumped a little when it, and the side table, sank into the floor.

After sitting for a while with Angel not moving, she started to fidget and asked, “How are you Replicate?” Angel didn't answer her question at first, and she was starting to realize that, being unused to company, he's probably trying to figure out how to answer her. Angel answered slowly, “On that day… when the meteorite crashed into the atmosphere… one of the shards of Replicate pierced my heart… but it didn't kill me. The piece of Replicate merged with my body.”

Akira nodded and said, “It's a miracle you're alive.” Angel nodded back and said, “Yes, it is.” Akira, on a roll, asked, “Do you know what happened to the rest of the pieces of Replicate?” Angel didn't answer for quite some time. After a while, Akira said quietly, “You don't have to answer that.” Angel then said, “It doesn't matter. I'm used to keeping my secrets to myself… I retrieved all the original pieces of the Replicate Meteorite and store them within my body.” Akira was stunned and whispered, “All hundred of them!?” Angel said, “Yes. All hundred.”

Akira shook her head slowly in wonder and asked, “How in the world are you alive!?” Angel answered quietly, “I don't know.” A new feeling started developing in her gut for the man in front of her. It took her a moment before she realized what it was; pity. She pitied him. His life had been ruined by Replicate it seems. She wondered what he'd been like before. Maybe he was kinder? “Thank you for the room by the way.” She blurted out. Angel didn't answer, and she found herself starting to interpret his silences. She felt that he might be surprised. When's the last time he's been thanked for anything? The pity she felt for him increased. Finally Angel said, “Your welcome.” She gave him a smile in return.

Angel abruptly stood up and said, “I'm going out.” Akira's smile dropped and asked, “Where are you going?” Angel paused and said, “I'm going to see if there's any way to get them to stop hunting you.” With that he stepped through the wall. Miffed, Akira mumbled, “The least he could have done is asked if I wanted to come…” After a few moments, she decided she could no longer sit and be bored or she would just die. Remembering Angel's words and deciding what to do, she spoke aloud, “I want a big screen TV, and every single video game and video game system invented at my fingertips.” She in shock as the room expanded, then smiled as what she requested appeared. Hopping off the couch, she popped in one of her old favorites, Grand Theft Auto III Classic, and promptly forgot her boredom.