Perhaps some people would have viewed Pyrrhus's current hesitation, the complicated stew of emotions he felt, as an improvement. He felt—
Well, he didn’t feel guilty. That was definitely not the right word. He knew the Captain’s death at his hands was the right thing to do, the only just punishment for a man who thought ripping out and destroying a soul was the right thing to do. Who knew how many others that man had condemned; he’d just…gone for it, so easily, for what Pyrrhus could only really consider a minor inconvenience, and he clearly hadn’t been expecting it to make his enemy angrier. Perhaps he’d done it before; used it as an intimidation tactic or something else.
Perhaps he hadn’t. Perhaps something about fighting Pyrrhus had pushed him to it for the very first time, though something within Pyrrhus doubted that greatly.
Perhaps it didn’t matter, one way or another. As far as Pyrrhus was concerned, even just one instance of condemning a planet to death was more than enough.
So, no, guilt wasn’t what he was feeling. Frankly, he’d killed people for far less before. This was pretty easy to justify, on the morality scale—like, surely even Imnolu could see that this one was beyond saving? There had to be a point where they stopped playing nice and accepted that some people were just ******** up beyond all reason on Chaos and needed to be put down.
And yet it lingered with him anyway.
Honestly, it was sort of annoying, to be having these sorts of qualms when Pyrrhus stood by the idea that he’d done the right thing. And yet, when he’d left so many other corpses behind him without an ounce of hesitation, this one bothered him.
Maybe it was what Tyndareus had said. How he’d suggested that someone else with the White Moon might have made the same judgement call on Tyn, and Pyrrhus would have lost him all over again. Probably without ever knowing what had happened, given the size of this stupid city and the number of magical people in it.
Maybe that was what had him so ******** up. That would make more sense than him feeling some kind of…guilt or remorse over someone who so profoundly didn’t deserve it. Honestly, he could hardly justify getting tied up over a complete piece of s**t. But Tyndareus was different.
Tyndareus himself would probably see that as hypocritical, but P{yrrhus couldn’t make himself care. It probably was. Destroy all Chaos, kill every one of them, except that very specific one who happened to be the reincarnation of Pyrrhus’s husband, he got to live because Pyrrhus wanted to believe in one (1) redemption. Wanted to believe that he could make up for his worst ever mistake, if he just tried hard enough and convinced Tyndareus to come home.
Maybe that was the secret. Maybe he was all ******** up because he was trying to do this thing where he had hope, which was something he thought he’d lost the last of centuries ago. It was supposed to have died in the dark caves under his world, being hunted like an animal because his own people blamed him and the monsters in the dark wanted a piece of him.
But now, he had three fragile souls in his hands, because he’d shown Tyndareus that the Negaverse was wrong, and Tyndareus believed him. Trusted him to show up and help. Accepted that Pyrrhus meant it when he offered.
The thought of someone trusting him felt…a little bit wild, he had to admit. But then again, not exactly unheard of. Imnolu and Heibing trusted him. Bernard had trusted him, once, and it had ruined him, but—
But this was a chance to prove that he was worthy of that trust, all over again. He could…he could really do this, really get Tyndareus to come back to the light or whatever. It was possible. Probable, even, if he was entirely honest with himself.
Tyndareus seemed pretty determined, after all. And honestly, if this Tyndareus was anything like Bernard, Pyrrhus would bet on his determination. It would just take connecting the dots and aligning the details. Which was probably the hardest part, sure, but they’d figure it out.
It felt strange, to feel so certain of something that Pyrrhus knew could go terribly wrong. Someone could get suspicious. Tyndareus could change his mind. Maybe Chaos had nefarious ways of bending people to its will so they couldn’t leave. But they’d overcome worse before.
Pyrrhus wanted to believe they could do it again.
He had hope. Real, actual hope, made tangible by three little starseeds that Tyndareus had given him. Pyrrhus doubted it would please his superiors for him to be handing valuable resources back to the enemy, but as long as they never found out, it wouldn’t matter, and no one could make it Tyndareus’s problem.
[iu]That thought made him feel a little giddy. That he was helping Tyndareus flip off his shitty superiors, and taking away just a little bit of power from the Chaos that infested this world. He didn’t think of himself as the sappy sort, the kind who put so much stock in saving lives or whatever, but…well, maybe seeing one get snuffed out so brutally had awakened a desire to fix things in him. Maybe he was better than he thought he was, or whatever.
Or maybe it was just a surge of the pettiness that had always lived in him, bubbling up at a victory.
He’d killed that stupid ******** of a Captain. He’d taught Tyndareus what the destruction of a starseed really meant. And he’d managed to recover three whole little lights, and ensure that they would get to go back to Cosmos and her Cauldron and get their second shot. That, Pyrrhus thought, was a victorious sort of night, the kind that should have him looking towards the future, not fretting about the dead piece of s**t that had set the whole thing in motion.
And yet. He was fretting.
He ought to go back home, give the starseeds to Kaifeng like he’d promised, and maybe talk to Imnolu and Heibing about this incredibly stupid thing he was doing where he acted like he might be able to bring Tynmdareus home and in the meantime was going to be offering up his energy to ensure that Tyndareus kept his quotas. And, yes, he intended to do all of that. He’d made a promise, and these three precious little souls needed to get to safety.
But, callously—thery weren’t getting any less dead, and it was far past any chance to find the people they’d come from, and Pyrrhus felt…tangled.
Going back to the house would mean going back to people and all the noise and fuss that would inevitably result from him trying to talk to all of them. The ideas was, frankly, painful, and Pyrrhus didn’t feel ready for it yet. Not when he was still having so many ridiculous feelings.
But wandering the city didn’t feel like a good idea either. There was too much Chaos here; too many chances that he’d run into another fight, and he could admit, as the adrenaline settled, that he was probably way too tired to tangle with some ******** who thought he looked like easy prey. He didn’t like admitting that, but one had to be realistic in situations like these.
But there was somewhere he could go. Somewhere he could retreat to in order to have time alone with his thoughts and not risk getting interrupted by some a*****e, or have to talk them all through with people who he knew loved him but who were also…invasive, was probably the nicest word he could pick.
Sometimes, being cared about was exhausting. And Pyrrhus was already so, so tired.
Pyrrhus exhaled, and pulled out his flashy little Senshi phone. So fancy, with so many abilities, and so incredibly useful. Mauvians really were a blessing none of them deserved. He was already familiar enough with it, but after showing his world off to Tyndareus, he hadn’t been sure he would ever want to use the little function to take him there again, at least not until he had all his power back and could be more sure that he could face whatever was wrong up there.
Except…it was still his world.
And so he pressed the button, and let it take him away.
The magic was a little kinder, this time, depositing him in a building under cover immediately. Pyrrhus let out a little sigh—he hadn’t been looking forward to scrambling for shelter, hoping he could find somewhere to duck away, or to finding himself back in those awful caves.
He knew the place at a glance—the owner of this little shop had called himself a “purveyor of antiquities and rare things,” which really meant that he was a very classy fence with lots of connections, which meant that he had been one of Ryla’s favorite people once upon a time. Uhlsdor had been a delight to work with, always willing to help Ryla find new clients and new adventures.
He’d disappeared a few months into them all hiding underground, and no one had ever found his body. But Rylas had no doubt that he was long, long gone.
There was something disturbing about it, frozen in time from Uhls and his assistants fleeing to the underground like everyone else had when the sun rose and refused to go down. It had been panic, then, and the evidence of that panic was still visible. A shattered vase trailing across the floor. A smashed jewelry display—Uhls and the boys grabbing what they could, or opportunists coming after, it was hard to tell. Someone had drawn the heavy curtains, and they were still there, though Ryla bet they weren’t the color they used to be and they were certainly worse for the wear of a thousand years. The door hung open, letting in the light, and Ryla hissed and moved to shut it, shaking his head unhappily.
There was something nice about returning to the familiar, even though it felt wrong. Hollowed out without listening to Uhls leaning in and trying to sell him some pretty bauble or pry the story of his latest adventure out of him. But the quiet gave him time to think. To really ponder the implications of everything that had happened.
He still wasn’t sure what so unsettled him about the death of that Captain. It had all worked out for the best, in the end. So maybe it was less the Captain, and more…what he’d seen before that.
He’d gone into a fight he’d known he was more than able to win, ready to rescue that poor girl’s starseed, put it back, and send her on her way with a warning to be more careful and the gratitude of someone on his own side. Noise and neat and a fun little story to tell the boys.
Instead, he’d witnessed something horrible and monstrous, something beyond the depravity he was used to, and he was left wondering if in any way it had been…his fault.
He was the one who had gone in swinging. He hadn’t gone for the starseed quick enough. Had let himself hesitate. And the end result was two corpses and very little he could do for either of them.
Maybe it felt like a waste. Maybe that was why he was so ******** up about it. Neither that girl nor the Captain needed to die, but dead they were.
Pyrrhus sighed. At least he had a little time to stay on his world—not too long, not with it the way it was, but…even ******** up and far too sunny, it was home. A home he had always returned to, for its myriad flaws and broken pieces.
Maybe it was a little like him, that way. Broken, but still good.
And it could be fixed. But before he could do that, he had plenty to do at his tother home.
And also a family to talk out his feelings to, or whatever.
Pyrrhus sighed and pulled out his phone again. He would return to Earth, to Imnolu and the others, and he’d get their advice on what to do next. And they’d bring back Tyndareus, as soon as they could.
And once the four of them were back together? Chaos would have to watch its back. Nothing could stand in their way.
[wc: 2112 words]
