Greyashe chapter 370 is entitled "What we must do."

Previous chapter 369: Perception

Next chapter 371: No way back

Summary page

-Short summary-

Steeling his resolve, Van takes the ultimate gamble. Will this be enough to stop Butcher, or is he throwing away not only his future but the future of the world?

-Long summary-

Van wipes away the black bits of blood that aren't dried and stuck to his face as he clutches his chest with his free hand. The pain radiating from the injured hand with a hole in the palm is enough for him to lose steadiness on his feet, but he remains standing. It might be true that he's trained and fortified himself for this moment, but it doesn't change that he is by nature a creature of pacifism. Perhaps Butcher knows this or if he doesn't really know, he can use his nearly omnipotent senses to tell. Either way, Van is really out of his element, and the longer he tries to refute this based on sheer will power alone equates the amount of suffering he'll endure until his body gives out. The boy knows what must be done, even if it scares him out of his mind to do it. Rightfully so as it is a drastic turn of events to even consider what he's about to do, but beggars cannot be choosers. First thing he has to do however is sever all ties he has to this moment and himself.

Avoiding another volley of aether shots from Butcher, Van squeezes his chest and shuts his eyes tightly. As ill advised as such an action would be normally, Van does have his reasoning. He is surrounded by darkness penetrated only by a pulsing light traveling around him in an arc not unlike those seen on hospital equipment. The boy opens his eyes and stares into the abyss before him as he stands deathly still in his spot. Suddenly, the space before him bends as if someone is physically pushing into it and several particles of light form very familiar feathers that wrap around each other in a small whirlwind until they stop spinning suddenly and explode into light that engulfs the entire area. Van shuts his eyes and covers them with the back of his good palm to avoid being blinded by the light, instinctively knowing when to open them and allowing himself a little smile once he does.

Before him in the darkness stands Claire dressed in a traditional angel tunic. She is completely white --as if she's a drawing that has yet to be colored, and she gives Van a withering look as he regards her. She asks --no, states that he's going to ask her to do "that", and while she can't stop or refuse him since she's now just particles without a "form", she still thinks that she should state how she's against what he's planning. Van thanks her for her opinion, and the two are silent for some time. The angel sighs and floats over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and beginning to whisper an apology into his ear. Van leans back and places a finger on her lips, shaking his head and telling her not to do it. That's not the Claire he knows. The Claire he knows is too haughty and prideful to apologize to anyone even when she's wrong, though, in this case she isn't. It was that small memory of her that he had kept in his heart since the travels into his own mind back when he went to Greyashe that had propelled him into action and calmed the raging despair in his heart. She had given him focus when he thought he had none and inadvertently had been his guardian angel. Even now that little memory is what had been protecting him from the fullest brunt of Butcher's attacks hadn't it? He can tell that the angel remnance while weak is still in play even if she had "died". Now however, he needs to let it go and do what he must. It's not something he wants to do, but something that has to be done.

Claire bows her head and has to stop herself from nuzzling into his chest to hide her emotions --it isn't fair that the little boy she had met in Greyashe had matured into a young man so quickly. It isn't fair she missed most of this and didn't even realize it because of her memories fading. Most of all it isn't fair that he of all people should have to shoulder such a burden.

And yet...

She backs away from him and the two once again regard each other in silence. Claire smirks, turns on her heel and walks into the abyss while nonchalantly waving into the air. She repeats what she said before --she can't stop him anyway so there's no point in getting upset about it. He knows what he must do, and she knows what must be done, and that's all there is to it. She warns Van that even she as an angel has no idea if there even is a human after life, so he'd better make sure to take this advantage and utilize it well. Van nods and bids her farewell --adding that he knows for sure this won't be the last time they talk. He then bows his head and within seconds disappears from the abyss. Claire turns her head as he vanishes her expression remote and unreadable.

Van comes back to himself mere seconds away from being hit by an aether shot. He ducks under it and glares at Butcher who stands on the other side of the man made gulf. The farseer's mind whirls with different ideas and scenarios for how this could end, but ultimately knows there is only one possibility, which gives him strength, resolve and purpose. Van turns to the splintered remains of the throne, and bends down in an attempt to lift it up. Butcher is caught off guard by this, and finds himself simply watching the farseer's efforts, until he is able to lift the dregs of the throne and toss it through the stained glass window located behind the decorative chair, the glass and debris flying as the chair launches outside. Van then gives Butcher a look, and jumps out the window. The sentient is flabbergasted, annoyed, and enraged all in that order, and leaps after Van to finish what he has started.

It is a small miracle that the throne room is not on a higher floor so when Van and Butcher leap out, they do not have far to fall. Upon reaching the ground, Van dashes forward and away from the sentient, who hesitates for a moment. What is he planning? If it were a matter of gaining more space to run, he would have done that first rather than taking his chances fighting in that confined space wouldn't he? There's something wrong with this whole situation, but he can't place his finger on what. Butcher contemplates ignoring the boy as it's not like destroying him is a requirement for his loftier goals, but the very nature of his unease upsets him, and his first instinct is to rebel against it. Covering himself in an aether cloak, he seemingly vanishes into the air. In fact he has simply used the density of magic in the air to hide his body --which is at it's foundation made of magic as well. The evil sentient is still learning just how potent his omnipotence is, and like one who is learning math and begins to see the application of different formulas and their meaning; Butcher too is demonstrating an aptitude for knowledge.

Van stops running when he can't tell where Butcher is by sight or sense. Although he had planned for some degree of uncertainty, this is entirely too much for him. Even knowing the "outcome" of this fight, there are too many unknowns that concern the boy who is used to having a grasp on outcomes. Still--

Butcher appears to his right out of nowhere. Van gasps in surprise and is only barely able to avoid the first swing from his arm covered in aether. Barely meaning that he is completely unable to avoid the second lighting fast swing aimed at his torso; a feint that the sentient had prepared moments before deciding to strike the farseer down. If he is unsure of what the boy is planning, then he will have to take the initiative and "butcher" him before he can react.

The aether slices through Van like a knife through hot butter. His body offers no resistance to the midnight covered abyss knife that slices him clean through his bones and pops through his spine like a mower over a grassy field. It would all seem so unreal, dreamlike even if it weren't for the pain that follows immediately afterward. The pain is so great that it is almost euphoric to the farseer, it stops being just "pain" and becomes a sensation mixed of different colors, feelings, and places. Perhaps his angelic "sister" had prepared him for this when she shut off her remnance oh so long ago, well....it really wasn't that long ago but this pain is so great that it feels like all of Van's fifteen years are an afterthought of a past era. It bleaches his brain and stains his very subconscious. This is death.

Without a doubt, Van Rayleigh has died.

Both halves of his body fall with a soft thump before Butcher who grins maniacally, his mouth opening and the saliva dripping down upon his bottom teeth. He roars in delight and begins to laugh as he mocks Van for believing in the deus, that deus. He had fed him some line about saving the world from him hadn't he? Perhaps even said that he would save him if he ends up in trouble? Now look at him! The deus is no where to be found, and he will die alone. Although it's a shame he would never know why his fellow magics had chosen to support the boy in the end, there is nothing better than subjugating fools who would dare to stand up to him --especially those who align with that ineffectual deity! It had been fun for a moment, but now it is all over. The only thing to do now, no, the only thing he wants to do now is..

To watch you die.

Butcher and Van both complete the sentence simultaneously, and the sentient stares down at the farseeing boy who's eyes are wild and red with pain, but shockingly focused as he grips his leg with surprising force. Van gives his enemy a slasher smile as he states that it's so good that they think along the same lines. It makes activating his ability that much easier. Now they can take this to a different plane where they can match each other in power. Maybe Butcher feels confident about his physical ability, but the farseer wonders if an off kilter mind like his can stand being destroyed?

There is only one way to find out.

The surroundings around the two blot out int to white nothingness and they fade into oblivion.