— –Katherine "Kitty" Pryde– —
Illyana charged, her blade raised high, the swing coming down with all the force her body could muster. Kate shifted aside with ease, the air hissing where steel cut nothing but emptiness. Again and again Illyana pressed forward, shoulders tense, jaw clenched, and every time Kate slipped away, letting the sword carve useless arcs.
And if Kate could dodge her that easily, Belasco would barely even register it. To him, it would look like a child waving a stick around. Still… Kate couldn't help but notice. Illyana was getting better.
"You're getting closer." Kate admitted, letting her own sword catch the next strike with a sharp ring before she twisted, the riposte grazing Illyana's cheek and sending her sprawling in the dirt. "But you're leaving yourself wide open. I told you, stop pushing it, you need time to build strength. For now, work on your technique."
Illyana flinched at the sting, a quick wince crossing her face. She wiped the blood away with the back of her hand, then stood again. Her glare dropped to the weapon, and with a snap of frustration, she hurled it down and kicked at the dirt.
"You can't hurt the ground." Kate muttered with a sigh.
"This is stupid." Illyana's voice cracked with anger as she kicked at loose stones, sending them clattering across the training yard. "I haven't gotten any better in months. Why do I even bother? I should just stick to magic. Maybe I can finally figure out a way to—"
"Because we'll never beat Belasco with just magic. If it were that easy, Ororo would have killed him by now." Kate said firmly. She stepped over, scooped the discarded blade from the ground, and tossed it back toward Illyana. The girl didn't even try to catch it, letting it fall past her without a glance as she turned away.
"Illyana." Kate called after her, but the girl didn't answer. Illyana's figure marched toward the garden, shoulders stiff. Kate let out a long breath and shook her head. "Freaking teenagers…"
"You were quite the handful yourself." Came Ororo's amused voice. She stepped out from the shade where she'd been watching, with a soft smile.
"I wasn't that moody. I swear, she's been horrible lately. A little mistake and she'll storm off. She was better last year." Kate shot back automatically, brushing dirt from her hands.
"You weren't in Limbo." Ororo replied gently, eyes following Illyana as she disappeared into the garden's shadows. Kate wished she could argue, but in the end, she knew Ororo was right.
"Yeah…" Kate exhaled.
Ororo placed a hand on Kate's shoulder as she stood beside her. Looking at where Illyana had been just moments ago. Ororo took a deep breath, holding it for a moment before sighing.
"Belasco has been watching us." Ororo said at last, her voice quieter now. "I've done my best to avert his eyes, but there's only so much even I can shield. It's only a matter of time before he turns his full attention back to her. It might be a month, it might be years, but his eyes are starting to drift in our direction again."
"Of course he is." Kate muttered with clear annoyance, brushing Ororo's hand from her shoulder. "We've been living on borrowed time since the moment we got here."
"Kitty—"
"Don't call me that." The snap left her harsher than she intended, and when she caught Ororo's calm expression, her anger faltered into a sigh. Belasco had cursed her to more resemble a cat in the past, and she had become a monster, tainted by Limbo. Even now, after Ororo had cast some spells to get rid of the curse, she had yet to fully return to her human appearance. The nickname felt more like an insult by this point, even if she knew that Ororo didn't mean it that way.
"So what? We run again? You can't beat him, I can't beat him, and Illyana sure as hell can't. Hell, maybe this whole time…"
She stopped herself, biting down on the rest. The thought alone tasted like poison.
They had stolen Illyana out of Belasco's grasp, yet he hadn't lifted a hand against them. No legions of demons crashing down on their refuge, no shadow in the night tearing the girl back. Nothing. It gnawed at Kate, because it didn't feel like a victory. It felt like permission.
What if Belasco had wanted this?
What if rescuing Illyana hadn't been their triumph, but his plan? Training her. Sharpening her. Turning her into exactly the weapon he wanted, while they played the role of her dutiful teachers.
Her stomach twisted at the thought.
The bloodstones haunted her mind most of all. Belasco had given them to Illyana willingly, had let her bear their weight, knowing exactly what they meant for his ritual. Ororo had destroyed hers once, long ago, yet Belasco had repeated the same mistake, pressing those cursed stones back into the girl's hands.
That didn't fit.
The demon Kate had met in Limbo never made careless mistakes, never let his grip slip once he had it. And if Illyana still carried those stones, it was because he wanted her to.
Kate had wanted Illyana to destroy her bloodstones and make herself a useless vessel, but even with all her talent in magic, she was still not good enough to destroy them yet. And it wasn't as if Ororo could do it for her, as much as Kate wanted her to. It had to be Illyana.
"You are not wrong to fear it." Ororo's voice broke through her thoughts.
"I'm not afraid." Kate shot back.
"You're angry." Ororo answered.
"Aren't you?" Kate asked, causing her to smile.
"Belasco is the king of this dimension." Ororo spoke, avoiding the question. "I know well enough that the only reason we escaped at all was luck. And since the day I destroyed my bloodstones, I've known the truth, that he lets us live not out of mercy, but cruelty. Every breath we take is meant to be a reminder that we are still his, no matter how far we run. If Belasco truly wanted Illyana back, then…" She let the words linger in the air. "I doubt we could stop him."
"That's supposed to make me feel better?" Kate turned, frustration raw in her voice. "That he's just… waiting? Watching us fatten the lamb before the slaughter?"
"No." Ororo admitted, unflinching under her anger. "But it should remind you that he has not won yet. It should remind you that Belasco is a prideful and foolish man, and that his pride has blinded him. Every day she stays out of his grasp, every lesson she takes to heart, is a day we steal from him. A day closer to her being strong enough to resist him."
"Strong enough?" Kate let out a sharp laugh, shaking her head. "She's a kid, Ororo. She bleeds, she breaks, she gets angry and throws tantrums. And you put all your hopes on her? You want her to carry the weight of Limbo on her shoulders? The lives of everyone who Belasco will continue to drag onto his castle?"
"She already carries it, Kate." Ororo stepped closer, lowering her voice. "That burden was forced onto her long before we found her. We cannot take it away, no matter how much we wish to. But we can help her bear it. We can teach her how to stand beneath its weight without being crushed."
Kate swallowed hard, looking away.
"She's not ready." Kate muttered. "Not for him. Not if he decides to show up and—"
"Neither were we, when he chose us." Ororo interrupted her. "But we survived long enough to give her a chance. That is what matters now."
Then, Ororo looked her directly in the eyes. Kate couldn't help but grimace slightly at how old and tired she looked now.
"Kate…" Ororo's voice softened, almost breaking. "When the time comes, promise me you'll look after her."
Kate's mouth went dry. The words hit her harder than she expected, heavier than any sword strike. For a long moment, she said nothing, her throat tight.
"Don't talk like that." She finally muttered, looking away once more. "You make it sound like you're not going to be here."
"If Belasco tries to take her again, then I don't know if I will. I will do whatever it takes to protect you and Illyana, Kate." Ororo admitted quietly. "But she will need someone. And whether you believe it or not, she trusts you more than anyone else, even more than me. You've seen it, haven't you?"
Kate grimaced, jaw tightening as she rubbed a hand across her face. "She trusts me when she's not screaming at me. And even then, the only reason is because I share the same name and face, even if a bit older, as someone she used to be friends with. Even now she still is confusing her trust for her friend with me."
"That is still trust." Ororo said with a faint smile. "And it's more than enough."
"You're asking me to promise something I can't keep." Kate let out a shaky breath. "I can't even keep her safe now."
"You can keep her from being alone." Ororo countered.
"I…" She started before cutting herself off. "I'll try."
"That's all we can do." Ororo answered, the faint smile returning to her face.
— –Illyana Rasputin– —
Two years. It had been two years since she was dragged into this godforsaken realm.
There were days she could almost convince herself she was proud of the progress she'd made. She could feel it, week to week, how much stronger she was becoming. One week she couldn't cast a single spell, the next she managed three. One week she collapsed after ten push-ups, the next she pushed herself to fifteen. Slowly, steadily, she was building herself up. In her head she told herself it was only a matter of time, one day she'd be strong enough to break free of Limbo. To finish what she came here to do.
But then she hit the wall.
Ororo and Kitty had called it the limit of her body, said that until she grew more, her strength would only carry her so far. But those limits weren't enough. Not for what she needed.
She was still too slow. Still too weak. Still nowhere near the monster she would have to face. Months of sweat, bruises, blood, yet when she looked back at herself a year ago, the difference felt pitiful.
And now nature itself had turned against her, making her weaker every month just from the simple fact she had been born a girl. She kept it hidden from Kate and Ororo, but god, did it make her angry. Every time it came, it hollowed her out, dragged her down, reminded her of how small she still was. She hated it. Hated how it made her feel like her own body was betraying her.
So she had thrown herself into magic.
At first it had felt like an answer. The formulas, the structures, those made sense. They were like math problems she could grind away at until she found the solution. Magic was just another kind of science, another skill to master.
Until it wasn't.
Because then came Ororo's brand of magic. The kind that wasn't about words or circles or logic. The kind that demanded she pour her heart into it, demanded feelings she couldn't put into words, demanded trust. Magic built on emotions and instincts, on "letting go and connecting to the world."
And what the hell was she supposed to do with that?
She didn't know if Ororo was a bad teacher, or if she was just a bad student. Probably the latter. Ororo would tell her she was advanced, that her progress was more than impressive. But Illyana didn't feel it. She felt stuck, spinning her wheels in mud she couldn't claw out of.
Her emotions weren't Ororo's emotions. They didn't match. They never would. And the more she tried, the more frustrated she became, and the more frustrated she became, the heavier the weight inside her chest grew.
However, that was when she had begun experimenting on her own. Sure, she couldn't quite use Ororo's magic. She also didn't want to touch the magic Belasco had taught her, since her soul was already corrupted enough, and the last thing she wanted was to anchor herself even deeper into this realm. But that didn't mean she couldn't take pieces of what she'd learned from both and try to build something different. Something that was hers.
She wasn't fooling herself. She knew she was no expert. Compared to Ororo, compared to Belasco, she still felt like a beginner fumbling through a language she barely understood. But she wasn't an idiot either. Put enough pieces together, and she could find her own equation. Add two and two, make four.
And, while Ororo was teaching her how to "feel" her own soul, and how to destroy the bloodstones, she couldn't help but come up with an idea she kept returning back to. An idea that Ororo had, in a way, advised her against. Even without knowing her real plan.
Ororo had advised against trying to absorb her bloodstone back into her body. After all, as long as she had a complete soul, she could be used by Belasco once again. Only by permanently destroying a fragment of herself could she "escape" him.
But she didn't want to destroy her bloodstone, or at least, she couldn't. For one, Darkchylde would scream in her head every time she tried, ruining her concentration. And for the other, it felt wrong. It was unnatural. It was like killing a part of yourself.
And… well… with time she had grown out of the stupid thoughts that had plagued her mind. The thoughts that came from the guilt of losing Alex. She could no longer force herself to even try to destroy the bloodstone.
But then, she did know the basics on how to fuse her soul with the bloodstone. And well, she happened to have another bloodstone. A bloodstone from the one of the few people she truly cared about, the one person that had given everything for her. The one person that….
Her hand clenched around the necklace Belasco had once gifted her, the cold metal digging into her palm.
"This is a stupid idea." She muttered to herself as she began to pace in her room, after having cast a simple spell for some privacy.
"I disagree…" Darkchylde echoed in her mind. "The stronger our soul, the stronger our magic will be. And with it… we'd finally be able to defeat Belasco. In a way, we'd be killing Belasco with him. He would be the one to get revenge."
"You're not helping." Illyana shot back, finally unclasping the necklace and opening it slowly. And there they were, the two bloodstones.
Her own, the one she could still feel a connection to. And Alex's, a shard of his soul, the last thing she had left.
If she were being honest, the idea sounded incredibly stupid… but unbearably tempting all the same.
It had been around a year and a half since his death. Enough time, supposedly, to grieve. To move on. To let the memories settle into something she could carry without breaking. But she hadn't moved on. She couldn't. And worse, she didn't want to.
Because forgetting him, that was the real death.
Already, the edges of him were starting to blur. She'd replay the same moments over and over just to keep them clear. The way he laughed, the way he would sit down next to her to teach her random facts, the way he would ruffle her hair whenever she was feeling down. But each time, she wondered if she was polishing the truth… or rewriting it.
He looked really tired near the end, right? Why didn't she remember him that way?
In two more years, what would be left? Would she remember the shape of his face, or would it twist into something false, some half-built dream? Would she still hear his voice, or just the echo of her own invention?
The thought clawed at her, hollow and merciless. He had been her guardian angel, her knight in shining armor. And she was terrified that by the time she grew strong enough to kill Belasco, she wouldn't even recognize him anymore.
Would she be able to forgive herself then? Or would she stop caring altogether?
She hated the thought. She hated how much it haunted her. And so, in a way… if she were to fuse his soul with hers, if she were to take that fragment into herself…
Then he would never leave her. She would never forget him, and even if she did, he would continue living through her.
"Exactly." Darkchylde's voice slithered through her mind, low and coaxing. "At last, you begin to understand. Why mourn what you can keep? Why chase ghosts when you can bind them to your very soul?"
Illyana opened her mouth to answer, but in the end, she couldn't.
"I'm only saying what you already know." Darkchylde purred. "Memories fade, Little Snowflake. They rot, they twist, they slip through your fingers until you no longer know what is real. But if you take him into yourself… Alex will never fade. He will live in your veins, in your magic, in your breath. He will always be with you, with us."
"It's not what he would have wanted…" Illyana finally muttered, clutching the necklace even tighter.
"Are you sure?" Darkchylde asked, her tone sounded mocking, but Illyana couldn't refute it. Then, as if to add salt to the wound, Darkchylde continued. "Should we make a deal, then?"
"What do you want?" Illyana asked, feeling even more on guard.
"My power. My strength." Darkchylde's tone shifted, smooth and enticing. "I will lend it to you. Share what's mine without ripping control from your hands. No more screams in your head, no more tug-of-war for every spell. We could finally stop fighting each other. All I ask is him. That shard. Fuse him into us, and I swear we'll become whole."
"You're lying," she whispered.
"Am I?" Darkchylde asked. "I am you, and you are me. So tell me, Snowflake, am I lying?"
Illyana went silent at that, waiting for a few moments as she looked at the bloodstones in front of her before closing the necklace and stuffing it behind her shirt.
"We need more time, I need to make sure that I don't mess anything up and destroy his soul in the process." Illyana finally answered.
"Don't worry." Darkchylde answered with a chuckle. "From now on… we work on this together."
— –Alexander Montclair– —
"You're overcomplicating it. Just because you can add more stuff into it doesn't mean you should. I actually did the same thing and it almost blew up on me before." Alex commented, looking at the designs Dudu was working on with a massive grin on his face, or well, Alexander's face.
"But it would be way more efficient this way, wouldn't it? Couldn't you just stop it from breaking with regular maintenance?" Dudu asked, fidgeting with the parts in his hands.
"Dudu, just build another machine that does the same thing. Split it into two. Then you can charge extra to add the features back. It's safer, too. You gotta remember, it won't be us doing the repairs, it'll be random people who don't know what they're doing."
"Ah! Of course! Strip features out, then sell them back as upgrades!" Dudu's eyes lit up. "You really are a genius. Can't believe I didn't think of that myself."
Alex shook his head and turned back to his own table, grabbing another alchemy tome. He stifled a yawn as he flipped it open. He had done as much as he could at the moment, and now, he had to wait for the parts he needed to be delivered. That free time gave him time to learn, to try to expand his knowledge into more things he could use to defeat Belasco should he get dragged back down to Limbo. Or, perhaps, in a better future, enough knowledge to help him deal with supernatural stuff should it come to it in the future.
For one, he'd have chosen magic, but his and Ciri's luck had struck once more, so he was stuck with alchemy at the moment. Not too bad all things considered.
Learning everything from scratch, alchemy, formulae, local terminology, was exhausting, but worth the hassle. At least, he hoped it would be. The real problem was that most books Dudu managed to dig up were vague at best, since every decent alchemist guarded their secrets like treasure.
Ciri knew a bit of alchemy, but most of her knowledge was on witcher potions. And witcher potions were practically a death sentence for anyone who hadn't undergone the mutations. Still, the few things she was able to teach Alex from the vague memories she had were more than enough to fill in some more gaps.
"Ah, Alex, remember, substitute the berbecane fruit with the cortinarius mushroom when you go to try to make that potion." Dudu called, already tinkering with another project.
"Huh? Why?"
"Cuz if you drink diluted berbecane, you are going to spend the next week in the toilet. Learned that the hard way back before I met Dainty." Dudu answered absentmindedly. "You can't cook it, you need to eat it raw. And well, good luck making anything without cooking the damn berries. I still can't believe Witchers drink that shit. Let me finish messing with this and I can help you study and research for a bit." Then, pausing for a moment, Dudu let out a chuckle as he turned to look at his own pile of books. "Man, this is great isn't it! I can't believe I never bothered to learn any of this before."
"Yeah…" Alex muttered, lowering his eyes back to the book.
If he were being honest, having another version of yourself running around felt strange. He had shrugged it off at first, but the more time he spent with Dudu, the more the reality of the situation began to hit him. And, from time to time, he got the weirdest feeling from the way they talked to each other. It was strange, really, talking to yourself.
Still, out of everyone they could have stumbled across in Novigrad, finding Dudu had been the best decision they made. Because Dudu was him. Which meant Alex suddenly had an extra pair of hands, hands that worked like his own. Not only that, but a pair of his own hands that had been born and raised in this world. Which meant context, shortcuts, knowledge Alex could never have picked up from a stack of books alone.
Thanks to Dudu, their "vacation" into Novigrad before they had to get on the road again would actually be incredibly productive. Dudu knew the names worth knowing, the places to avoid, and which merchants could be pushed for favors. He could walk into a shop or a tavern and come back with twice the supplies Alex would've managed, no questions asked.
If anything, his connection to Novigrad's bank alone was impressive. It had allowed them to take a massive loan to invest in the creation and development of the printing press. A loan Alex and Ciri were taking advantage of to stock up on as many supplies as they could for their journey.
Dudu, a random merchant, a doppler, and now, a clone of himself.
For as useful as Alex's knowledge and brain would be for the shapeshifter, he couldn't help but feel like he was the one in debt. With Dudu carrying his face, his hands, his skills, Alex only hoped he wouldn't end up leaving behind something that would spiral out of control. The last thing he needed was a doppelgänger of himself making a mistake that came back to bite him in the ass.
And it was thanks to Dudu that Alex was able to partially confirm one of his theories.
As part of their mimicry process, dopplers connected to their target's mind. It was through that connection that they "became" the people they copied. And yet, rather than becoming a true clone of Alexander, Dudu had become a clone of… well, another version of him. At least, that's what it seemed like, judging by the subtle differences in how he acted, the odd gaps in memory, and the way his thoughts sometimes felt just out of sync with Alex's own.
After arriving in this world, he had theorized that his mind was just as broken as his fathers. That he too, was still somehow connected to other versions of himself. With Dudu, he now had proof.
If he were being honest, he wasn't sure why his mind still remained intact, at least from his perspective. In theory, he should have been a crazy mess like his father. But that was a question he would have to leave until later, he really didn't have a way to find an answer in his situation. At least not without some sort of expert sorcerer, or a lot more research.
Really, he wished he could have gotten more books about magic from Novigrad. But even with all of Dudu's strings pulled, every seller had turned him away. Everyone was too afraid to sell anything related to magic nowadays.
And, well, speaking of magic…
"Goddamn it." Ciri cursed as she slammed the door open, walking in with an annoyed expression. "Fucking Menge… of course he would decide to start a witch hunt right when I need to find one. Most of the good mages left Novigrad just a few weeks ago."
"Well, there are perks to a witch hunt." Dudu chimed, lifting a glass filled with shimmering blue powder. "For instance, Dimeritium sellers are popping up all over the place. Downside is the price hasn't dropped one bit. Dainty's going to kill me when he finds out how much I've spent."
"Yeah, wonderful." Ciri shot back with dry sarcasm, dragging herself to a chair and dropping into it with a heavy sigh. Her eyes flicked toward Alex, catching him hunched over his book. "Reading again? I thought you were excited to be making things."
"Well, I made the designs." Alex looked up with a faint shrug, lifting the book to show her the pages covered in notes. "Now I'm waiting on the dwarven smiths to hammer them out. Not much I can do until then."
"Then take a break." Ciri mused, rubbing a hand over her face. "I don't think I've seen you sleep since you met Dudu."
"I've been through worse. I'll sleep later." Alex muttered, though even as he said it, he couldn't help but sigh.
Everything was going well, at least for now. And he didn't know how long they had until something went to shit. Perhaps it was just simple paranoia, but he had a bad feeling that if he relaxed, even for a moment, everything would go wrong again.
"That's not an excuse." She said, though her tone softened. "Come on. Fresh air won't kill you. Gods know this city is suffocating enough as it is. The last thing I need is you collapsing from exhaustion while we're running from whatever hell comes next."
"You feel it too?" Alex asked, causing her to raise an eyebrow in confusion.
"Feel what?"
"It's…" Alex began, trailing off for a few seconds before sighing and closing the book in front of him. "Fine, but I'm a lightweight, so don't take me to a bar."
"Come on, you can make us some extra money. I heard there's this one merchant making big bets for anyone who can beat him at Gwent. He's got some real rare cards too from what Dandelion told me."
Shoutout to @Basilisk, @Harman, and @Tertius711 for helping me brainstorm and keep on coming up with ideas for this story and for Beta Reading.
https://discord.gg/WTgN9J3YgK
~A/N~
Rip to my stockpile of chapters. Been busy with work and just plain ol' tired so just haven't had the chance to write in a long ass time. But hey, I'm going to try to lock in again and get at least one or two stockpile chaps this week.
Either way, mainly saying that because there's a chance I might have to skip a week next week since I'm also going to be writing my Tensura story. So if there's no chap next week, it's because I just haven't had a good chance to finish up the chaps.