MA: 86. The Phenoms of Contempt (Arc 2 Epilogue - Part 2)

“RABBITS!?”

“THE BUNNIES!? THEY’RE HERE!?”

“WHY ARE RABBITS IN THESE FORESTS!?”

Few managed to speak before they were slain by the superheated, azure tips of blades. Entities wearing identical Scarlet Logic bodysuits and masks with the face of a black rabbit annihilated them before they could even get out a single shot.

Scarlet Logic Dawn members attempted to fight back with their weapons, only to be outmatched in hand-to-hand combat. It typically did not even reach this point, as they were bisected alongside their weapons in a single, azure flash of light.

The Rabbits, given their body shapes, were all women with bunny ears dangling above them. These ears were encased in a flexible blue shell which allowed their ears to move.

Not a single word was uttered by the Rabbits.

The Manager attempted to stand to gain a clearer look at who they were. If they were going to die, then they may as well collect intel till they drew their last breath. However, a blue boot was suddenly planted on their back, crushing their spine and ribcage altogether.

“Killer… Rabbits… You were waiting for us…?”

The masked Rabbit didn’t respond. They kept a hand on an ear as they held a much sleeker version of the Mana Repeater. This lack of bulk made them immensely lighter, which contributed to their immense speed.

Then, with a small nod, the Rabbit dropped her weapon on the Manager’s skull, crushing it unceremoniously.

“Deleted – Desa.” The bunny spoke in a cold, yet oddly gentle voice.

She began rummaging through the Manager’s body. After scavenging through her pockets and internal organs, she placed a bloody hand on her ear and spoke.

“No Egg. Scarlet Logic Dawn Collection Team has been eliminated. Zero injuries. 93.5.% accuracy – Desa.”

She had odd way of closing her sentences. But this was not just her.

“Team Leader. No signs down here either – Bana!”

“Nope~! Not here too – Rula!”

“Odd – Desa…”

The bunny girl at the top didn’t know what to think of this, as though they had been expecting a different outcome.

Suddenly, someone approached them from behind.

“O’ Desa. My sweet, honorable Killer Rabbit.”

A pair of hands roamed onto her shoulders as a woman draped in red robes passed by. Her voice caused the Rabbit to instinctively salute. But a hand then grabbed hers and gently put it down.

“No salutes, remember? Kill that instinct of yours. As you have laid waste to these ones.”

“D-Desa will remember – Desa.”

“I have no doubt that you will.”

The figure walked with grace befitting that of a goddess. She walked barefoot along the hill of bones, yet her feet were unscathed. Her light, airy steps made it seem like she was walking on air. Following her were long, white strands of hair that fluttered to an invisible wind.

“It is unfortunate that the Egg was not in their possession. It must be in the hands of another soul. Yes. Why else would a Collection Team arrive at graveyard if they were not intending to bring a soul back?”

The scent of roses followed her, and she spoke with measured grace, like an Angel that had descended from the heavens to bless them.

However, the coloration of her garbs, and the bodysuit she wore beneath was close to that of Scarlet Logic’s, only that there were various belts, flasks of liquid, and weapons tightly secured to her body, sticking out like thorns.

Amongst these items was a book carrying the image of a bleeding apple.

Not only that, but she wore a mask in the shape of a red rose.

Red mist occasionally diffused into the air whenever she breathed.

“Good chance the person they’re after has the Egg then.”

Another voice spoke at the hill’s summit.

It was crude, direct and nothing like the serenity of the white-haired woman’s voice.

“Meaning ‘She’ might still be alive.” The voice added.

This voice belonged to a tall witch who wore a leaning, grey witch hat. She wore a loose, oversized grey coat that covered her body, hiding everything beneath. Her hair was a mix of a dark and light shade of grey, and her eyes were a vibrant emerald green.

“It would be a sight to behold if that were the case. I’ve always had high expectations of those bearing white fur and hair. Those in grey like yourself included.”

The white-haired woman hummed, continuing:

“But that Snow has always been a coward. Ah. So they’re not here anymore. How curious~ The Snow I know wouldn’t have been able to survive. I wonder if she’s made new friends.”

“R. Aren’t you a bit too obsessive over this Snow person? I mean, we don’t even know what she looks like.”

Suddenly, the temperature of the world dropped. The blood of the deceased Manager congealed as it hovered a meter into the air.

Then, it hardened into a spear.

“I call it an obligation rather than an obsession. An obsession implies the lack of forethought. To chase after an unreachable star. Did I ever tell you about the tale of Icarus? A once vibrant witch who flew too close to a star, only to have her wings burn down. They say she can no longer speak. Though, you can argue that it was a desire that morphed into an obsession, then into hubris. It doesn’t change the fact that desire was the origin of her sin.”

‘R’ spoke as though reciting scripture. Her words were laced with metaphors and esoteric knowledge that only few in the world could understand.

“Now, an obsession…”

She then turned back to the withering sapling. It had been destroyed by the Manager, but she saw something resonating within it. Then, she stabbed her blood-crystalized spear into the earth, and at once, a dark maggot was flung out into the open.

“… would take the form of a parasite craving what it can never become. My Dearest Ozma. Would you like to take a look at an Original Sin?”

Ozma, the witch, joined ‘R’ as they crouched over the maggot. The witch’s emerald eye glowed suddenly, and she hissed:

“Envy…”

“Envy. Obsession. Into Attachment. The distillation of human essence breaks down to the most primordial umbrella form. In humans and life as we know it, it only exists as a Sin called Envy.”

‘R’ reached out to the maggot.

Suddenly, it tried to lunge at her, only for her effortlessly dangle the creature close to her face.

“O’ being of Envy. Bearer of Obession. Why is it that you are left aloft the ruined remains of your throne of skulls?”

“I… sought to create a garden. It became a forest. I had to be the closest to the light. But I couldn’t as I am. I sought to become more.”

“A garden. Ah. These are roses.”

“But they are imperfect. The rose I envision… the rose I must become… Is in the form of pure human wholeness.”

“A dream craving the essence of humanity. Yet you’re nothing but a worm.”

“Despite this… I still seek to break free from these restraints.”

Those words caused an imaginary smile to form on ‘R’s face.

Then, she twisted her mask, causing red mist to disperse like superheated steam.

“That face…?”

It was only briefly, but the maggot was allowed to see the face of this person the moment the bloody mist died out. After a painful gasp of air, the woman put the mask back on, and her breathing returned to normal.

“We are beings restricted by the Rivers that bring forth tales beyond the horizon. Those waters and the light of those stars can never be a source of nourishment for those who seek self-actuality. The light of the sun that you seek cannot be called nourishment for the cognizant.”

She stood up and took the maggot along with her.

“Come. Join us. Total liberation of the soul begins with tearing out the pages. Ozma. Please make this one feel special.”

“Heh. Another creature born from a tale?” Ozma scoffed.

“It would do you good to comply. That city of green won’t save itself. Emerald City, was it?”

“… Tch.”

The group descended from the hill, but the maggot – which was on the verge of dying – yearned to remain on that mountain.

“My one rose…”

“There are a million roses in this world. Billions of variations across all worlds. But you should focus on the you that exists now. Then, by virtue of natural selection, your blueprint will propagate your garden.”

“Ah… How could I have… overlooked that.”

“Yes. Germination takes time.”

“Only the very strongest may rise as the original.”

“There will be no need to cull them…”

“You must learn to love those roses, no matter how many thorns they have.” ‘R’ brushed a hand over every single one of the twenty Killer Rabbits that lined up before her. “No matter how many exist. It would be no different than throwing away the thorns of a broken rose to simulate perfection.”

They were identical in shape, size, weight and even the tone of their voice.

Finally, she snapped her fingers, and the bloody spear that had penetrated the hill imploded. The bones were revered into a liquid form, and they were syphoned into what a bloody orb.

That orb was then absorbed into her book. After flicking through the pages, she uttered:

“Page 709. You have become the 709th Phenom of Contempt. The Queen of Sweet and Bitter Thorns.”

She shut her book, hooked it by her hip and began to depart.

“Now then. Ozma. Shall we begin the hunt?”

The witch quietly sighed and nodded.

“Right behind you–”

“–Rosenrot.”