At this time, Alice had successfully trapped Drakthor within her mana field—the Pink Room. She had done so by tapping her foot on the ground and bringing the space from her mind into reality, just like Code instructed. Within barely a day's length of time, she had already figured out how to use the technique. Whether it was on a whim or not, all that mattered was that she had done it.
Now that Alice had made it there, and because it was her world, she was like its god.
As Drakthor fought off a multitude of Alice's clones, the real Alice casually strolled on the invisible ceiling. Gravity and space were nonexistent in this place—anything that made sense also wasn't applicable.
From where she was, she summoned a large item through a poof of smoke, the colors of pink, yellow, and star shapes. It looked like a bazooka, contrasted with yellow and blue mechanical parts, and she held it over her shoulders, still upside down all the while. Near the rear of the bazooka was a charm with the face of what looked like Greed, in cartoon form. It chimed as she placed her finger on the trigger, and a scope popped out, allowing her to aim accurately at Drakthor below.
When she had her desired aim, she pulled the trigger, and it made a loud cocking noise followed by a loud boom.
The bazooka fired and met Drakthor amidst the clones, just barely before he could realize it was over him. In slow motion, his eyes caught wind of it, but it was too late to react—the clones held him down as the shot blasted them all into smithereens.
The clones that got caught in the blast each blew up along with it, adding to the already massive explosion. From the smoke, Drakthor was in the form of a ball, his black armor wrapped around him like an armadillo. He retracted his armored scales as he revealed himself, barely unscathed.
He remained on all fours, resembling a wingless dragon as he caught Alice from above with his gaze. The black dragon-like helmet he wore covered his whole face, showing only a section of his eyes, which glowed a bright red.
On the empty pink space, he stood atop nothingness and let out a piercing roar that made Alice stagger, even distorting the Pink Room a little.
Alice covered her ears, and she thought to herself as it rang, I only have five minutes' time in here before the Pink Room disappears… I need to figure out how to beat him here until then.
Drakthor rushed in from below, crashing into the invisible ceiling as she leaped off from it. Alice grew wings, and the bazooka she held had disappeared in a poof of colorful smoke. She dodged Drakthor and raised a palm toward him; where he landed, a lava field now formed.
He struggled as he sank into the pool of lava on the ceiling. However, because his black armor was dragon scales, he had the ability to withstand the lava for a duration of time. Alice knew this; her goal wasn't to melt him.
As Drakthor flailed, the lava then turned into ice-cold water, sinking him beneath it into the ceiling, and his armor began to crack.
He protruded armored wings to push himself out of the water and back onto the level where he previously leapt from. And when he did, his armored wings fell apart; piece by piece, it began to fall off his skin—cracking and shattering as it did.
Alice had the upper hand in this space, but there was only one caveat…
Drakthor then said with a mangy, deep voice, "If this was the real world, you'd have me in a predicament… Unfortunately for you… I know how your domain works."
The pieces of his black armor scales continued to fall apart, and Drakthor refrained from moving any further. His helmet opened to reveal his pale face, and he raised a hand in front of him, just as Alice had done.
The sound of a heavy clang echoed and in an instant, his black armor had reconstructed to its original pristine form, as if it had not just been falling apart. He shone his darkness colored scales as he clenched his fist and made eye contact with Alice, "This place is like a double-edged sword. Not only can you do and create anything you want in this space, but so can the ones you allow in here… I know how your ability works, girl. You will lose even here."
Alice floated away and above him with the angel wings she summoned onto herself. She was surprisingly calm, regardless of the fact that Drakthor also knew how her Pink Room had worked.
As she remained there, Drakthor stuck out his palm and flexed his fingers, facing it at Alice directly. He then cast a cage around her, and a plethora of metal spikes formed and floated all around her now.
"You will lose by your own hand… Don't worry. I won't kill you, but I didn't say anything about hurting you… Badly."
He closed his open palm, signaling the floating metal spikes to rain down onto her from all sides. Stuck in her cage, she could go nowhere and was doomed to face the attack head-on. But then…
As the metal spikes had almost made impact, their advance had halted just inches away from her skin. One of the metal spikes had even made it centimeters from one of her baby blue eyes.
"What?" Drakthor said in disbelief.
"What, are you really that surprised, Drakthor?" Alice said in a calm but demeaning tone, "I know this place better than anyone. Of course, I took into consideration that you could also create things in this room; however, you forget one thing…"
His eyes twitched as Alice remained in the cage, and the spikes floated all around her while she remained unscathed. "You see, there is but one rule to this place that is absolute. And that is—whatever is created here by others cannot harm me. Because I am the main creator and I rule this domain. That should have been obvious, right, Drakthor?"
After Alice said this, she daintily tapped a slender finger on the tip of one of the metal spikes in front of her, and it, along with all the other spikes and the cage surrounding her, disintegrated into white particles. Alice floated with those angel wings and her petite legs slightly crossed over each other in the air above.
So, this is her… as the rumors call her… The Angel of Creation. He thought to himself as he witnessed her. Like he was in the presence of something mythical. Something innocent and holy that also had the power to end him.
"What do you say, Drakthor? How about we end this for good?"
Right then, above her and all around them, she summoned all sorts of things. From weapons and guns to missiles and other miscellaneous artillery, an endless assortment of weaponry was set to rain hell down onto Drakthor, who was center stage of it all. Even below him on the invisible ground he stood, there was more of it, ready to unleash destruction onto him.
"Right, what is it they called me? The Angel of Creation? Ironic really…" Alice raised a frail hand, "How this same Angel can also destroy."
"You got quite cocky from just a moment ago. What happened to that frail, scared girl who was trying to run away with tears in her eyes?" He mocked.
"She's still there," Alice said with a solemn expression overtaking her. "But she grew wings."
Her wings flared as a few white feathers flew out from them. The weapons that surrounded made their advance and rained down onto Drakthor unendingly. Guns fired, missiles crashed, swords and spears impaled—all from different directions onto him. More weapons and artillery replaced the ones that had been fired and continued their relentless bombardment.
I can do it. I can win. Alice said to herself, Three minutes now… I have time. I can do this!
For another two minutes, Drakthor continued to hold off the barrage of attacks. His black armor, though strong, could withstand only about thirty seconds of the rain of mobilized weapons and artillery. With Alice's magic, it was like a literal army there to take him down.
Each time, however, he would snap his fingers and, because he was in the Pink Room, he would reconstruct his armor completely to perfect condition. The sound of the clanging armor kept on this way until there was only one minute left for Alice's domain to remain in effect. Even if she was hitting him with all these relentless attacks, nothing was going to happen until she could somehow figure out a way to stop Drakthor from reconstructing. If she could not, all this would have been for nothing.
This is going nowhere… If only I can eliminate his armor completely, but I can't manipulate people and things that were not originally created here. I need to catch him off guard once his armor is down—right when the time is up. If I can do that, then even I could beat him in the real world. Wishful thinking, but it's all I have to ride on… No one is going to save me. I need to stand up for myself. I'm a Black Wolf now. And Black Wolves don't run away!
Thirty seconds… Alice needed to time her attacks at just the perfect moment for them both to be released from the Pink Room—with Drakthor defenseless.
The raining of weapons went on endlessly. The whole time, Drakthor could do and say nothing against the clashing and explosions all around him. He was too focused on protecting himself now, but it could be clearly seen that he was utterly struggling against Alice at this time.
Piece by piece, his armor fell along with the falling of time. There were only ten seconds now, and they would both be freed from this place. Eight seconds… A large piece from his arm fell off, his pale skin taking the damage that followed from a flying sword. Six seconds… The armor on his back flew off and exploded, his back exposed as it took a strike from a missile from above. Four seconds… He positioned his hand now to snap his fingers once again to reconstruct himself. Two seconds…
"Valiant effort, Alice, but once again… you fail." He said. His voice, though quiet, made its way to Alice's ears.
But she replied, "Say such things only after you've won."
When she outstretched her other hand, she made a gesture to Drakthor in the form of snapping fingers—a gesture that was signature to Code as she mimicked his movements.
And when she snapped them, she turned Drakthor's outer layer into stone, encasing him temporarily.
Even though it was only for a moment, his eyes widened at the last minute. Though he could break out of this within seconds, seconds were something he did not have; it was too late. She had timed this at the perfect moment.
He could do nothing against Alice's planned action. The barrage would beat him to it, but that wasn't all. The last thing Drakthor saw before he turned to stone was Alice flying right at him, grabbing a flying weapon as she dove in for a piercing attack.
Zero seconds…
At last, Alice's Pink Room disappeared into white particles. Both were back at the entrance hall of the Wolves Den—the open, exposed wall right behind Drakthor now, letting in the bright morning light inside the whole place. Rummaged floors and debris decorated the place now as the sweeping staircase behind Alice lit with light, and her, stnading there with a double-hilted claymore stabbed right into Drakthor's gut.
He was completely exposed, with no armor on. He only wore a white muscle shirt, black pants, and boots, and his head was buzz-cut. The expression on his face could not be seen then, as the light behind him obscured his front-facing features. Alice stood below him in a wide stance, still gripping the double-hilted claymore in both her hands as she looked past him. They stood still there for but a moment before Alice finally looked up to Drakthor's face.
But when she saw him, a mixture of emotions welled within her at what sight she saw…
"I told you… You fail."
When she heard his ominous words and caught sight of his large face, he was smiling sinisterly at her with those pitch-black eyes and yellow daggered teeth.
"N-No! How? How are you not slain?"
She said with utter disbelief sown in her words as she stared right back at him from below. And when she looked at where she had 'stabbed' him, the claymore she held did not even penetrate his core.
Was… Was I not strong enough to deliver the finishing blow?
"Don't beat yourself up… It's not your fault that you can't pierce me."
Right then, Drakthor gently took a large hand and grabbed his white muscle shirt, tearing it off as he revealed his large and muscled physique—Alice's claymore was still glued, balancing itself into his gut area. Right on the place it attempted to stab, the claymore's steel had just touched the outside of his abdomen, with the mere tip failing to pierce.
His skin… It's just like—
Alice's fear, that she thought she had dispelled, had begun to creep back onto her as she released the claymore. It disappeared in a pink cloud back to her Pink Room, never to return. She turned around immediately and began running up the stairs of the Den.
Watching her calmly, Drakthor stood up in a dragged-out manner, again taking his time as he did earlier. Watching his prey and letting her get a head start.
As the patter of her futile running sounded in his ears, with only a few large steps, he had caught up to her in a matter of seconds—Alice having just made it back up onto the wide landing of the staircase.
She fell back onto her hind and began crawling backwards with her hands and feet, squirming away. This moment—just like when Drakthor had just arrived—she was once again helpless…
Why is this happening? I thought… I thought I had done it. I thought I had won… But here I am again, on my ass, like the helpless girl I am. Why… Why am I so weak? Why am I so useless? So pathetic? Why?? She thought. Her last moments were an assortment of emotions that she could not control.
She began to tear up from frustration, fear, and many other feelings all at the same time—the tempest of emotions became a hurricane in her mind. Kiki, Milo, and Ulrich were still outside, unconscious after defending her, and just when she thought she was going to avenge them, she had failed her last attack. Failed to defeat the enemy that was already defenseless in front of her. She didn't have enough mana for another mana field either. She had used all of what she thought she needed to defeat him. She was completely powerless now.
As she witnessed Drakthor getting closer and Keeperforsaken closer, she panicked at a previous thought. He wouldn't take her without hurting her first. The last time he did, he had broken her arm—countless times. Then, he had healed her, just so he could do it again. She worried now that it might be worse because she had chosen to resist. She could only imagine what he would do while still keeping her alive… She would rather die than go through that all over again.
She refused the thought. But she could not. It seeped into her mind.
The time when Drakthor and the Nightbanes had found her. How they treated her like a pet, using her only for her abilities. Kept in a cage—no doors to escape, and with a nullifying magic choker on at all times. Her face was dirty and bruised. Countless broken fingers, broken arms… How she would just deal with it for days without getting healed, and how grateful to them of all people when they had felt like healing her. And then at times, what a random Nightbane would do to her when she was alone…
She hated every thought of it. She began gripping herself, making herself bleed. Any pain at this point was worth the distraction of Drakthor lording over her now to take her back to that dreadful past.
With his large frame, he no longer needed to take a step forward. His massive arms were already in reach to grab her. Standing at ten-foot-one from below the stairs, his face bore an cruel smile from ear to ear, eyes glowing a haunting white past his small black pupils… He was like a demon about to devour her.
"Even if you beg now, it's too late. I gave you a chance to come quietly; now you will suffer along with your useless maids before we take you back. Let's see, I change my mind… I used to always just keep it with a broken arm… Maybe I'll break both your arms and, perhaps, both your legs, too? Ohoho… That's gonna hurt… So much for your 'wings', girl." He said mercilessly as his voice rang in her ears and her eyes wept and trembled all the while.
Alice's tears streamed down her face as her breathing became uneven, heaving with each dreadful take of air. When he raised his hand, his black dragon armor shot out from every part of his body, once again clad in it. That same arm he had raised turned into a fist as he took it and swung down onto Alice unforgivingly. She saw her life flash before her as the trauma seeped in completely.
This is it… This is the result of my own weakness… I'm sorry… Everyone… Belle…
And then… the sound of a clang echoed. Like Drakthor's fist had collided with an impenetrable wall.
Drakthor's fist had stopped just a short distance away from her. And there between Alice and his large fist was a person… A person who, when she laid eyes on his mere back, she…
"Alice. Are you okay?" he said to her so strong and gentle at the same time. His voice was soothing to her ears, a contrast to the horrors she experienced minutes—seconds just before his arrival. His presence was like peace in the storm, and he was the rock that shielded her from that very storm. "Brings back memories, right?"
Alice began to reminisce about the first time she had met him. A moment similar to this one, where he had shielded her from a punch by the mech from that night. And how he shielded her from the trash that the crowd was throwing at her—he took it all.
She had never been treated like that before, with value, aside from her imposed sisterhood with Belle.
She began thinking back to Ryo's words from just the other day… When someone is genuine, it makes them easier to like. It also means they will genuinely have your back… always.
When she saw that infamous black hair spiked in the back, those dangling silver cross earrings chiming in the wind, that black attire, the jacket, and of course, that logo of a wolf's head in the back—she knew… Keeper, she knew.
She cried loudly when she uttered his name, not out of fear anymore but out of alleviation, out of comfort. It was almost like a contradiction because he bore the name of a sin, but it was the person she wanted most of all to be here in this moment. Her friend, her Captain…