Part 64: The Following Night, at the Concert.
Nepotism runs to me. I’m laying across one of the spinning discs, but it’s moving too slow to throw us. “Are you all right?” he yells to be heard over the music that continues playing.
“Fine,” I shout, rubbing my head and getting to a sitting position. The Scrubber is gone. Did Nepotism’s spell kill it?
The song reaches crescendo and the metal grate shudders. The spinning discs lift beneath us, speeding up, so we have to fall flat to grip the smooth plastic. Aluminum catwalks stretch between them, barely more than rails. Kara is descending into the empty center of the Sephiroth. Nepotism and I find ourselves and the entire band 10 feet off the ground, stretching to receive the Ankh. The audience loves the spectacle.
Solomon only seems to be slightly paying attention. "Paled or purple, veiled or voluptuous! Paled or purple, veiled or voluptuous.” Now that we’re up here, we’re obvious to everyone, and the entire band is gesturing and pointing to alert security. There are no stairs I see, no way for us to descend, or any attackers to reach us. "PALED!" Solomon shrieks. "PUR-PLE!"
Mephis is alone on the stage, gun still in hand, but cast in the shadow of the spectacle above him. "Put on the wings and arouse the coiled splendor within you." I slide to hold a rail, letting the disc spin beneath my hip. Nepotism stands at the center. “Come! On! To meee!" Solomon is on us, and they are fighting. Nepotism is hesitant to use his sword, though Solomon is clearly reaching for it. I lose my legs and I spiral out of control, catching myself on the catwalk
Dukett has been doing guitar poses on his disc as he slides into a solo, driving the sweaty ladies beneath him into orgiastic frenzy, grinding and undulating against boyfriends, husbands, 'friends with benefits,' and random strangers. The fighting and death at the other end of the Tree of Life has garnered Dukett's attention and he is carefully picking his way down the rail toward us. I'll have to move fast if I'm going to get past him and reach Kara.
Nepotism wrestles with Solomon. Nep couldn't kill him now without driving the crowd into a frenzy and blowing our cover. We're part of the ticket price. Solomon is well aware of the same thing, but he would never be able to break Nepotism's defenses while still concentrating on his music. There is little more than this fight than elaborate posing and dance.
I’m in position to see Armitage form from a black splash through the grating behind Mephis, already attacking before it turns solid. Long, knobby fingers form from inky tendrils, grabbing Mephis by the shoulders. A tremendous explosion of blue energy hurls him away. Only momentarily phased, Mephis shoots Armitage twice in the head. The face reforms before it has finished exploding. Armitage raises his hands and they flow with blue fire.
Grabbing Mephis around the throat, the Scrubber lifts him off the ground. Blue fire consumes Mephis’s head, burning flesh and hair. The collar of his shirt smolders. Exposed muscle and bone scorch, and features flake away like carbonized paper. Eyes turn white and evaporate. His jacket burns away from the burnt flesh of his shoulders. Armitage casts aside the corpse and sets his eyes on me.
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