User blog:Promestein/Heavencross - Severance

“Jophiel… this isn’t necessary…” Raziel is doing the best they can to keep their desperation under control, but they can’t hide these things like Jophiel can. “Please. You don’t have to do this to yourself! You’re… you’re perfect as is, so -”

The words are met by a tide of anger, but Raziel can feel the rippling undercurrent of doubt, fear, self-hatred, and shame. For a moment, Jophiel wavers, trembling, uncertain, afraid, overcome by emotion. Then, her mind continues its motions, tracing out her intent, all over her soul with an almost eerie composure. But through gritted teeth, voice shaking, Jophiel snarls, “I’m not. Not even close. Look at me...! I’m nothing. The useless archangel. No one listens. No one cares. I’m just a piece...! A gear turning, impotent, incapable of moving on her own!”

Every word hits Raziel hard, the rage in Jophiel’s voice cutting them deep. To have such vitriol directed at them, from her… it hurt. It hurt like nothing else could. And… “What… what do you mean…? Incapable of moving on your own…” Jophiel falters again, and suddenly, there is an explosion of dread and guilt that cannot be disguised. In those emotions, Raziel sees the future and understands her intent, with sudden, visceral clarity. The hidden thought falls into place. “No! Please, no, you don’t… you can’t!”

“SHUT UP!” Jophiel’s will drives deep into her own soul, tracing out a route like a scalpel. All of a sudden, Raziel can’t move. They’re paralyzed, trapped, forced to watch Jophiel cut herself apart. “You don’t understand! You can’t possibly know how this feels! You’re just a tool! You were made to be a gear!” Raziel feels the words, deep inside, as they reverberate through Jophiel’s soul. If they could, they’d choke out a sob, but it doesn’t even fully reach them. “But not me! I’m not a tool! I can’t submit to being a gear...! The world has to change, and I must be the one! I’ll be a voice too strong, too loud to be ignored!” She’s not sounding like herself anymore. Raziel can see the thoughts as they form in her soul. They’re forced. But Jophiel’s guilt transforms into a hardened resolve. Raziel hears the unspoken “It’s too late to go back,” and they know.

It’s inevitable. The realization sets Raziel into a powerless, frantic frenzy. “Jophiel, this isn’t the way -” Pain cuts off the words and Raziel screams, a sound that is soon muffled by Jophiel. A chunk of her soul leaks out of her, and inside it is a discarded shard of Raziel, a selection of knowledge thrown away to wither and die. The space it occupied is quickly filled by newly rewritten information, transcribed onto scraps of spirit Jophiel stitches together.

“For so long, I’ve wondered what Mastema had that I’m missing, but then, one day, I just realized...! She was the one missing something! It was what I had that was holding me back! A CRUTCH!” Another line is cut through her soul, and Raziel has no choice but to watch a part of her they loved die. The pain, felt by the both of them, only intensifies. “You… you’ve made me weak! You robbed me of my chance to grow! Everyone else… Mastema… Uriel… they burden their duties alone! But not me! You’re no ally of mine! You’re a FUCKING PARASITE!”

Raziel can’t speak. It’s not that Jophiel’s will is suppressing it. It’s just that they can’t bring themself to form words. Never before has Jophiel spoken like this, and definitely never to them. It can’t be real. This is a nightmare. An illusion. Jophiel is playing a prank. Kidding around. She has to be. All Raziel can do is sit there, and repeat this to themself, lost, lost and terribly, terribly afraid. “No… no… no…”

“All this time, you’ve kept me soft… You claim to care about me, but all you’ve done, all you’ll ever do, is hold me back! AND I’M TIRED OF IT! I won’t - no! I DON’T need you! I’ll grow into the person I should’ve been all along!” Her self-inflicted spiritual vivisection is progressing faster and faster. She slices off slivers of her soul or winds them into new shapes in a desperate craze. The sensations of self-hatred and terror are only growing. But Jophiel doesn’t stop. Her razor-sharp determination cuts through Raziel at the roots, suddenly, and they feel an alien distance grow between them, with every feeling they once shared drifting farther and farther away.

A final, desperate panic kicks Raziel into the throes of a fruitless resistance. “Please! This isn’t you! I-I’ll do anything...! I just want to be with you! All I’ve ever wanted is to help you… Without you, I have nothing - I’m nothing! Please, Jophiel, I love you -”

A hand rips through the tears in Jophiel’s soul, reaching deep into her inner world, and tightens around Raziel like a vise. In an instant, Raziel’s world of intimate warmth and closeness is destroyed, and is replaced by pain and a flash of light. For several long moments, Raziel floats in place, uncomprehending. They feel like a mass of exposed nerves. Naked, vulnerable… alone. They are alone. They’re not in Jophiel’s world anymore. They’re not with her anymore. They’re outside, and they feel the gravity, the light, the air… the presence of another person, raw and ragged, heaving with pain.

“A-ah… no… no…! No!” Raziel is past the point that they can choose their words. All they can do is scream and writhe in agony. They feel a glare burning through them. They feel Jophiel pulling herself up taller, the fingers of a bloody hand trembling. She’s covered in the stuff, and her soul bleeds out of her. Raziel can’t comprehend it. They’ve never felt Jophiel from the outside before. It’s wrong, so wrong...! “W-why…!?”

Under her breath, Jophiel is muttering something to herself. Raziel can’t make out words at first. But then… louder. Louder. Louder. “I don’t need you… I don’t need you… I don’t need you! I don’t need you! I DON’T FUCKING NEED YOU! YOU’RE NOTHING TO ME!” She jabs a finger at Raziel, spraying blood across the room as she begins to scream the words. “So! So! So you can… you can...! You can d… d…” Her words crumble apart in the air, and she falls to her knees, head bowed. “Damn you,” Jophiel’s voice is a frail sob.

Right before Raziel’s world becomes one of suffocating darkness and silence, they realize that Jophiel had been cursing herself. The words are the last ones they hear, as their prison takes its shape. Another realization takes place moments later.

She wasn’t cursing herself for doing this to him.

She was cursing herself for being too weak, too weak to finish the job and kill them.

For a long time, with all their heart, Raziel wishes she had. After all that, leaving them alive is… it’s the cruelest thing she’s ever done.