Lockeroom's Pandemonium

Chapter twenty eight: Stellar Skill

Yohanna Caster knew she was no match of the Gorgon clone.

She was an afraid woman, a weak one.

She thought that the suppression of the belief that she was weak and afraid of everything that is happening would make her stronger. She even managed to cast a high-leveled skill fused with her clone, just to attack the clone Silver they were fighting.

She managed to summon the Draceris Thandera.

The thought that she was the best player in this game had come to her. That the fascinating skill she had created was one of the best skill that not everyone could create. It was one of the numbers of Alas she had in her arsenal.

But the reality hit her.

As she saw the first time that the Draceris Thandera—the dragon who were made of real lightning—was being swallowed by Silver's fire, her expectation for her and her skills had subsided.

The mythical beast that she had summoned was in no second, died and withered.

‘I am indeed, weak. I will remain one,’ she thought. The smirk that the Silver they were fighting, had made her slump into more depressing realizations.

She was filled with the thought, attacking carelessly, moving her body in her will, yet not minding how she would hit her dangerous opponent.

Until she received a kick that made her slump into the clump of boulders and rocks.

She remained there, sulked into the thought that she would never be strong. That she would never make her own feet to stand and to move on its own. That she would forever be clumsy; she would forever depend to someone just to live.

‘Is this the life that I was destined to have?’ she thought. All the time, she was just depending to someone just to continue living, just to continue to survive.

She had received a lot of help from other people. But sooner, those people had left her—because they were already drained by how weak and useless she is.

‘Why? I want to live,’ she thought, ‘but I want to die as well.’

Maybe this game is designed to end her life. This game was the destiny's answer to make her life end of its own misery.

Everyday, she prayed that she would disappear in earth, and that she would die immediately. She was not confident to kill her own self, however. She was too afraid.

She wished every kinds of accident to come and hit her clumsy self. But nothing came.

Only this weird, mysterious game.

Is this the destiny's answer to her?

She remained long sulked in the coarse and hard group of rock. She pretended herself to be a dead clone—or a dead player.

“Oh, Silver, you are indeed a fool!”

The thick voice of a familiar woman had boomed her hearing. With that voice, her curiosity had led her to look at where it came from.

‘What?!’

Her eyes bulged and her face was painted with shock.

The woman who had screamed those words were in an unusual state.

Her body was divided into two—it wasn't severed, but she was a combination of Aunt Mathilda and of her own body. The flesh that was with her copy, was slowly melting, as if it was just a wax of candle turning liquid because of immense heat.

Sooner, it was now completely a figure of Aunt Mathilda. The body, the voice, the dress, the annoying smirk, and the giant hand fan—all of it resembled Aunt Mathilda.

‘Does that mean . . .’

He looked at the man whom the Aunt Mathilda was looking.

It was Silver.

‘If I am right . . .’

If she was right, then she had to help the man whom the Aunt Mathilda was fighting.

That incredible shifting of the clone's body—she was certain—only the greatest clone could do it; that only the Gorgon's head could do it.

And if she was right, the man who is facing the Gorgon, was the real Silver.

For no clone would fight their creator.

They would never fight their own boss.

Only a player, only between the four of them. The real her, the real Mathilda, or Lukas . . . the real Silver.

Events happened fast. Flame and black wind danced in the sky, attacked and harshly fought each other.

The skill that Silver has been showing was fascinating. Especially the wheel of fire penetrating the storm of wind which was gushing at him.

Then in no matter of time, as he was about near a centimeter at the Gorgon, his immense wheeling fire had stopped. And he suffered the loss of breathing.

Yohanna hurriedly stood. Despite the pain punching her body, she desperately stood.

She once again suppressed the fear and the pain at the back of her head.

Because she have to help.

She stood straight, then threw her wand above. It spun in the sky, and shone bright. As it met the peak point of the throwing force, it started to fall toward Yohanna, still spinning.

She opened her arms wide. She exerted invisible force at her palm.

When the wand crossed the space that was created by her widely opened arm, it stopped falling. It float in the middle of her arms, near her chest. It shined blue and dark light. It continued to spin rapidly.

Lines started to form down her feet. It was with white dots that was being connected with lines of light: the constellation of Aries.

The galaxy seemed to mirror at the ground.

Surge of energy surprised her veins, her muscles. Her eyes beamed white light. The heaviness of the galaxy seemed to whisper in her—seemed to whisper the wisdom of Aries' skills.

Then, in quick motion, her arms crossed each other. The wand was now gone at her front. It was replaced with two blue orb floating and following the back of her arm. It zapped blue electricity.

“Stellar Skill: The Spirit of Aries.”

She then threw the orbs in the sky. She clasped her hand, and dark cumulunimbus cloud suddenly appeared in the sky, where she threw the orb, where the Aunt Mathilda was directly standing.

“Skill: Fall, Stars of Thunder.”

Now one humungous light volt had struck the Gorgon Aunt Mathilda.

She heard her scream, making her casted skill towards Silver to be cancelled. She jump and rocketed towards her, with the use of the strength that her electric shoes had emitted.

Her blue orb plunged down from the sky, going to the back of her palm, which was now spread as if it was her wings.

She casted another skill. “Electric spear, electric shield.”

The blue orb turned figures of a spear and shield. She quickly equipped it and as she neared the Gorgon Aunt Mathilda—who was now covering herself with the fan—she hammered her spear.

Her feet laid at the surface of the giant fan, and thrust the spear at its surface. It might be a good cover, but the electric spear had creeped the whole weapon and penetrated, causing the Gorgon to be electrecuted.

The Gorgon Aunt Mathilda managed to stand with her feet, however. She remained strong and alive. She waved her fan strenuously, causing Yohanna to be thrown.

She was about to fall on the ground, exactly at where Silver was gasping for breath.

She did her best to regain her balance. She sighed when she was successful. She again, jumped in the sky, and casted another skill.

“Fall, Stars of Thunder!”

The Gorgon Aunt Mathilda had casted her own skill as well.

“Skill: Wind Demjin!”

Their skills had met and clashed each other. It was a view of total destruction—as if it was the preview of the world's apocalypse.

It was then when another circle of wind appeared beside their clashing skills.

Yohanna dropped her mouth open as she realized that their skills were being sucked by it—until gone; until nothing happened; until the whole Iron dome fell silent.

“Skill: Wind oppressor.”

It wasn't the Gorgon Aunt Mathilda’s casted skill.

It was . . . of the real Aunt Mathilda.

Yohanna saw her standing at one of the fallen greek pillar of the battle field. Her fan cover half of her face, her mouth, as if she was a Maria Clara (whose holding a black hand fan and wearing a skeletal gloves filled with ornament of dark pink diamonds).

“Eh, I was enjoying the massive murders, I'm doing, eh. But now the clone's all gone. Guess the Gorgon was now dead.”

From the other side, the real Lukas showed himself.

The mouth of his guns were smoking—sign that he had enjoyed pulling its trigger.

“Fool! Can't you see, Lukas stupid boy! The Gorgon is still alive! She had took the honor to mimic my wondrous body!” Aunt Mathilda said, pointing at the Gorgon Aunt Mathilda.

“Eh? I thought that was you, Aunt Mathilda.”

“I am not! You stupid long-haired monk!”

Yohanna saw how Lukas stared at the Gorgon. His lips jolted into a smile that resonates killing intent.

He pulled the trigger of his gun, and the sound of it started to boom the silent field.

He laughed, and said, “Let me kill you!”