Chapter 8

The Red Aura Soul

Akuma hadn’t spent much time wandering off on his own now that he had a life of his own, and when he stepped away from the underground torture chamber, as he saw it, and breathed in the cold, crisp air filled with tiny specks snow lofting on the breeze from winter’s grasp that still clung to northern Japan, he thought he just might be able to understand what it was like to live. That is, if he was allowed to stay in this form long enough to experience his new life and that, he knew, was pushing the boundaries fate had set for him since the beginning.

He didn’t venture far from the science lab but far enough to sit leisurely at the edge of the lake, looking out across the water at the nearby islands surrounded by bits of ice here and there. The haze around the volcano tried to obscure the light from the rising sun, but some streaks of sunlight peeked through the clouds and found Akuma’s eyes. He squinted but didn’t bother to shade his face with his hand. He never knew what the sun felt like before. It was warm and rather comforting; two things he had never known, couldn’t have known, before. He took it all away—it was he who was allowed to bask in the sun while Akuma lurked in the shadows, clawing at the walls imprisoning him to get out. And now that he was out, there was no way he was going back to that life again. Instead, they would all go back, together, just as fate commanded.

As Akuma dipped a hand into the water, he heard footsteps behind him.

“So this is how you’ve been spending your time? Not very productive, is it?” Chryarnth said, grinning as he stood behind Akuma. He was dressed in a long purple robe and wore a strange earring in one ear that had at least seven different colored gems dangling down on chains of silver. His hair seemed longer, actually, it was longer—the last time Akuma spoke with Chryarnth, he had normal, short length hair, but now…? It was much longer, tied back with a small, black rubber band, and it curled upward as it passed his shoulders. The only thing that seemed had not changed was his eyes. They were still a dark amethyst purple that seemed to decay at any moment into black ebony.

“I thought I could risk a moment away,” Akuma said, toying with his black mask he held in his hand. “Nothing’s happening. It’s all very boring.”

“It won’t be boring much longer,” Chryarnth smiled softly. “I’ve sent word on ahead to Maximnair to begin with more meaningful tests. If we are to extract the Red Aura, we must first locate the others, correct?”

Akuma nodded quietly as though he wasn’t entirely interested in the conversation. He was too occupied with living.

“There is a way that we can send out a calling signal to the remaining pieces… and have them come to us.”

“You don’t say,” Akuma said with a bit of disinterested sarcasm in his voice. “And how do we call the others, hm?”

Chryarnth smiled again. “We bring dear Hisoka back into his past.”

Moments later, Akuma returned to the fifth level under the ground. As he approached the doorway into the “dragon” room in which Hisoka was being held, he heard many long, drawn-out shrieks bouncing off the walls and down the corridor, and somehow it put a nice, big grin on his face. He opened the door and walked in.

Immediately, Maximnair’s concentration was broken. He took his hand away from the touch sensitive screen and the many bolts of electricity flickered and snapped out of sight. Akuma ignored the angry looks on Maximnair’s face, looking on toward Hisoka sprawled out on the table, weak and panting. His hair damp with sweat that rolled from the tip of his head and down the side of his face, Hisoka lie with his eyes closed, not wanting to look above to see what else was coming. Then Akuma caught a faint flicker of light—a light orange color—tickle its way down Hisoka’s chained arm, but it disappeared as quickly as he noticed it. When Akuma strode nearer, to stand by Hisoka’s side, he noticed the wounds on the boy’s arm were no longer there.

Akuma grabbed Hisoka’s arm and felt for the wounds in disbelief. “They’re gone. How did he—” He thought he knew Hisoka inside and out but somehow he managed to miss this rather interesting fact.

“Yes,” Maximnair said, looking over at the two with his beady, black eyes. “He is quite the healer. Always has been.”

“How long did you know he could do this?”

“Oh, quite a while now. You see, it’s the flames that heal him. When he’s put under enough distress, the flames jump out of his body and melt his pain away.”

“Amazing,” Akuma said as he continued to search for the wounds.

Maximnair turned back to the console and turned the machine off with a sigh. “I’ve been told to move operations downstairs. I’ll need you to carry him down to the Dredgen 5. Here, I’ll release the cuffs.” He touched a fat finger to another button on the console and instantly the bars and chains holding Hisoka down opened. Even though he was exhausted beyond even lifting his own head, he felt the restraints lift. If there ever was a perfect moment for his escape, that was it. Too bad he couldn’t move on his own.

“Take him,” Maximnair said, “and follow me.”

Hisoka looked up at Akuma, who frowned back at him, and for a split second saw himself in that confused gaze. Although Akuma had been cruel and devilish in his past nightmares, Hisoka felt a warm sensation coming from him, an almost known yet lost feeling. With everything Akuma had done, it was odd to feel his arms wrap around him, lifting him up like a sick child to carry him away. Whatever the reason, Akuma couldn’t look Hisoka in the eye at that moment and Hisoka could almost reach out and touch the conflict in Akuma’s face. But he was so tired. It took all of his remaining little energy simply to turn his head to look up at the demon that gently held his aching body. Hisoka’s head flopped against Akuma’s shoulder as the demon followed Maximnair out the door and down the dark stairwell.

Pacing back and forth on the side of an empty street, Kaori said a mile a minute, “This seriously can’t be happening! Out of all the hundred million train lines throughout Japan, this one has to be shut down—without even a single warning! Tell me this isn’t normal! It must be the work of the devil. How else would this happen, when we’re in such a hurry? I don’t get it! It’s just my luck!”

Xein sat in a wooden bench beside the road, curling his toes inside his boots. “What’s the point in worrying about it—there’s nothing we can do. We’ll just have to circle all the way around, maybe find the route that dude took…”

“Yeah, and all the while Hisoka’s out there somewhere being tortured to death—”

“—How the hell do you know that?” Xein looked up at Kaori, his face contorting in an angry scowl. “And what about my sister? Oh, she must be having a nice little trip to the spa—it’s a yearly sort of thing. You know, she disappears from the face of the earth to be alone and relax.”

“I told you,” Kaori said, trying not to look at him, her eyes darting from the Taxi sign and a row of vacant cars at the side of the road. “We find Hisoka, we find your sister.”

“There is no way you know that. She’s probably not even alive.”

“Well, you should know. She is your sister.”

“Nice. Real nice.”

Deep in the bowels of the earth, Maximnair lead the way down to the bottom most level of the secret laboratory, Level 13. The door leading onto the level from the stairwell was secured by three locks. First Maximnair stood next to a small eye scanning device, which shot a bright ray of red into his eye and, confirming his identity, flashed a similar ray of blue into the same eye. He turned back to the two behind him and smiled. “It’s quite an interesting device,” Maximnair said. “It’s been used before, but not exactly like this. You see, the first ray of light, as it reads the inner structure of the eye, also destroys it. If you are allowed within this door, the red ray will be followed by a blue one, which repairs the damage. So, anyone who tries to gain access into this room will be blind. Rather defeats the purpose, doesn’t it?”

“Clever,” was all Akuma cared to say. He shifted his feet restlessly. There was something about this place that he didn’t like, something that sent a cold tingle down his spine like someone dripped a bucket of ice cold water down his back. He didn’t need to look at him to know that Hisoka felt the same.

Maximnair turned back to the other locks on the door. One was a finger print reader, which Akuma imagined would cut off the hand of the trespasser. The final lock was an ordinary key lock, which Maximnair opened with one of the silver keys on the keychain in his hand. With a soft click, the lock was released and Maximnair turned the knob, holding the door open for Akuma to enter.

The room was pitch black. However Maximnair could see the light switch on the side of the wall, Akuma didn’t know, but as soon as he flipped the switch, the entire room was lit with the most piercing white light. Akuma tried to shield his eyes from the light—he had no free hands—and nearly buried his face against Hisoka’s neck. A few moments later when he could see again, Akuma noticed something odd—the peculiar expression on Hisoka’s face. It was a look of sheer horror, a look worse than death. Then Akuma looked up and saw it, too.

In the center of the room stood a black machine at least two stories tall. However it managed to fit in this room, Akuma didn’t know. The machine, shaped like a futuristic igloo made of steel, it had a small door that rounded at the top. Above it was a sign that clearly read “Dredgen 5”.

Suddenly, Hisoka began to shake, his eyes glued on the machine whether he wanted them to or not. “No…” he said hoarsely, his voice weak and strained. So that’s where he knew the name. The machine Kaori told him to jump into was the Dredge. He thought it sounded familiar…and this is why. “No! No!!” He tried to squirm out of Akuma’s grasp but all he could do was shake his head, aghast. This was the same machine that was used on him when he was a little boy, fifteen years ago.

“Oh, I wouldn’t fret so much, boy. This is a far more advanced version of the Egdert you clearly seem to remember. How amusing,” Maximnair said as he sat behind a large organ-like desk with buttons and levers and plasma screens embedded in it.

“This…” Akuma finally found his own voice, “…is the same machine?”

“You remember it, too? Yes, well, it’s not the same machine, since the other one was destroyed… Plus this one will work ten-thousand times better now that we know how to use it and what it was built to do.” Maximnair pressed a few lime green buttons at his control desk and red and blue lights came alive across the entire surface of the black machine. He pressed another and a white light lit the hatch on the front of the machine as it opened. “Put him inside,” he said with a grin.

“No!” Hisoka tried to yell. “You can’t! Don’t!”

Akuma swallowed hard before he was even able to take a step near the machine, but he did. He couldn’t look down at Hisoka in his arms because his eyes felt hot, like if he blinked once they would begin to tear. He didn’t know where this deep ridden fear came from nor why he was feeling it. Maybe it was because of Hisoka, having him so close. Maybe he was picking up some of his feelings and that’s why he felt so unsettled by the sight of the dark machine. Still, he stepped up to it and sat Hisoka limply inside. Stepping back, Akuma watched the hatch close.

“I do think this will prove to be an interesting day,” Maximnair grinned behind his desk. He looked over at Akuma who continued to stand before the machine, looking through the tiny round window at Hisoka inside. It looked as though he was already screaming to be freed, but no sound reached Akuma’s ears. “Shall we proceed?” Maximnair taunted. Akuma didn’t respond. He couldn’t take his eyes off of the red-haired boy inside the machine. Why? Where did these feelings come from?

Maximnair flipped a red switch and Akuma watched as a strange black, metallic liquid, wrapping around Hisoka’s body, filled the inside of the machine. The black liquid slowly crawled up his back and neck, stopping just short of covering his face. Maximnair, his hand poised over red button, watched in delight. “Here we go!” He pressed the button and the floor shook. The machine groaned as the blue and red lights blinked with mechanical anger. Inside more lights flashed, but it wasn’t the machine at all—it was Hisoka’s light, red and bright with orange-yellow fire.

The scientist sitting behind the controls laughed darkly pleased. “That’s it! That’s it! Call out to your friends! Bring them here!”

Akuma stood and watched as Hisoka was engulfed in an inferno of his own making. The flames started out as tiny bursts across his arms but then quickly exploded with surprising fury. The floor shook not because of the machine, but because of Hisoka’s energy. Akuma recognized those flames, he had seen them for only a brief moment within the nightmare, but it was a sight he seemed to know. The color, the way the flames beat against the hatch like feathery wings from heaven, how Hisoka’s eyes glowed that odd golden color… Staring at Hisoka within the machine, Akuma felt like reaching out to those flames, warming his icy skin with its warmth. And then suddenly, almost without realizing it, his back caught on fire.

Maximnair saw it but didn’t say a word. The flames grew larger and larger on the demon’s back until they formed gigantic wings at least ten feet wide each. Akuma wouldn’t have realized the flames were there if he hadn’t seen his own reflection in the glass window of the machine and in Hisoka’s eyes. Akuma jumped backward, away from the machine, and clawed at his back like one possessed. “Get them off of me!” he screamed, his deep voice echoing in the white room. “Get them off! Get them off!!” His black nails dug into his dark garments, pierced through the light armor and bit into his skin. The hot flames licked at his skin but didn’t burn. It was warm, nothing more. Still the more he clawed at the flames on his back, the stronger they grew. His back, ripped and torn by his own hand, bled profusely down his legs and arms and dripped on the white floor. The flames roared brightly, lapping up the blood like a cat’s tongue until all the red was gone. The ripped skin closed and healed perfectly in a blink of the eye.

Akuma gave up trying to rip the wings from his back and crashed to the ground, unable to move any more. “Make it stop!”

Hisoka, trapped in the center of the machine, grew still. His head nodded slightly as though he were falling asleep, but his eyes were still open and glowing a bright golden light. He could feel the flames leaking out of his body, his insides growing cold despite the inferno. An odd, empty feeling washed over him, a feeling aimed directly at Akuma lying on the floor. Hisoka didn’t know why, but he wanted Akuma to look back into his eyes—he felt somehow complete.

Maximnair ignored the demon wriggling on the ground and brought his attention to the monitors on his desk. Everything appeared to be going exactly as planned even though the heat indicator was spitting back insanely huge numbers. Brushing it off as a computer glitch, Maximnair reached over to a large lever marked with a single “M” and pushed it all the way up.

The floor shook with such intensity that Maximnair had to grab a hold of his seat to keep from falling off. The lights on the machine blinked like crazed fireflies. From within the machine, a deep red light grew brighter and brighter, beaming out of the tiny window on the door and hiding all sight of Hisoka inside. Akuma couldn’t look any more and, cowering, hid his head under his arms just feet from the machine. Maximnair ignored the warnings and reached for the second and last lever. He pushed the lever as high as it would go.

Akuma and the bright orange wings of fire sprouting from his back began to glow a dark purple color, the light pulsating along with his rapid heartbeat. He continued to reach his arms to the flames on his back but there was nothing he could do to get rid of them. With his eyes closed, his fingertips unknowingly patted the flames as if they were a soft, living animal. Akuma actually felt relaxed at the warm touch. He closed his eyes and let the flames dance over him.

The Dredgen began to visibly shake, the sound of its metal parts vibrating loudly against each other. Eventually little bits of flame and metal steam began to seep out of tiny fractures in the steel, the whistling sound of the steam adding to the hallow clanking of the steel. Maximnair frowned and returned his gaze back at the monitor that was blinking “Meltdown” over and over for however long, he didn’t know. He looked back up at the Dredgen, which was swallowed in red fire, shaking his head. “Impossible! It’s impossible! He’s destroying the machine!”

Flames continued to pound at the tiny cracks in the machine’s steel. Soon, the flames would rip the machine completely apart.

Akuma heard the scientist’s words but didn’t care. He knew nothing could possibly hurt him, and the healing flames on his back was proof of that. Hisoka finally wanted peace, that traitorous fool, Akuma thought. He wanted to extend his precious energy over me as a sign of peace, a truce? It made Akuma ill. But he was impressed. After so many days of torture and experimentation, Hisoka still had such incredible power. He might not be able to control it on his own but still—It was a power that could rock this entire facility, maybe even destroy it utterly.

Then the sound pierced both the demon’s and the scientist’s ears—the sound of death. It was Hisoka’s voice from inside the machine, screaming so loudly that the sound shattered the sound-proof glass of the machine. His voice sounded different, too. It had a sort of echo to it, a reverberation that no natural human voice could create and yet he did. The flames exploded through the shattered window on the door of the machine and ripped through the fractures in the steel. A huge chunk of metal went flying through the room, crashing less than a foot away from Maximnair and the control desk. The light and flames erupted in a singularly tall pillar, ripping through thirteen floors and soared 200 feet or more into the gray sky. Then, before the scientist could move, the machine split in half like a cracked egg and fell all to pieces.

The Red Aura Soul awoke and called out to its brothers, the pillar of red fire a beacon to follow. Akuma, untouched by flying shrapnel and broken bits of the Dredgen, looked up at the remains of the machine, gasping in shock. In the center of the debris stood a man clothed in a thin, stretchy black material that sparkled with specks of gold dust. This odd material covered his entire body except for much of his left arm, part of his chest and neck, where strange, red tiger-like lines curved up his arm and neck until they ended just past his jaw. The man stood tall, his back straight and strong with a flame jumping up and down the length of his left arm. His hair, a deep scarlet, danced in the hot air surrounding him as his eyes flashed with golden fire.

“Aurien!” Akuma gasped as he drew back.

The figure agilely stepped from the wreckage and knelt beside Akuma, resting a flaming hot hand on the demon’s shoulder. He shook his head but did not speak. Then he stood and turned back around at the smoldering remains of the Dredgen and the flaming pillar. The flame on his arm blinked on and off a few times like it had a short circuit until it finally faded away. Akuma slowly sat up as the flames on his back melted away as well. He looked at the figure in front of him, watched as the strange tattoo-like markings on the man’s skin disappeared, watched as the surrounding glow of red faded to nothing. The man stood looking up at the pillar of fire for a moment before losing his balance and fell over backward, unconscious.

No, the man he had seen—if just for a moment—was not the dragon god, but it was Hisoka, his true form, the Red Aura Soul. The machine had done its job; it forced Hisoka’s true self to awaken and call out to the remaining Aura Souls, which included Akuma. If he was so touched by the Red Aura, the others must have been, too. They would have to make an appearance sometime…

Standing up from behind the control desk, his shaking hands holding him up, Maximnair looked at the rubble, the demon still sitting on the floor, the fallen Red Soul, and then the rising pillar of fire that continued to burn brightly. Would its fire ever burn out? Maximnair, staring at the billowing fire, raised his hands above his head as though he were looking directly into god’s face. “Yes!” he cried. “Call out to them! Bring them here! Soon, my dear demon,” he spoke to Akuma, “you will have your chance to cut his throat at last!”

They had seen it, too, rising high into the sky and upward through the clouds. The fire pillar was so bright, maybe even the gods in heaven could have seen it. Kaori stopped rambling off the mouth and stared into the sky along with Xein by her side.

“What the shit is that?”

She shook her head and broke into an all-out sprint toward the light. “I don’t know, but that’s where we have to go!”

“Whoa! Stop!” Xein yelled after her. In two huge strides he caught up to her and grabbed her arm. “You think that’s where we have to go? Is that over where Lake Touya is?”

“I think so,” she nodded.

“Alright, fine. But we’re still at least fifteen miles from there. You can’t very well make it on foot. Here,” he handed Kaori her bag she about left behind, “you’d better hold on to this. I hope you packed an extra pair of clothes.” Then he took a step away from her, turning his back slightly.

“Why would I need an extra pair of—What are you doing?”

“Don’t watch!” he yelled over his shoulder at her.

“Alright, alright!” she huffed and looked away.

With his arms folded across his chest, eyes closed, he took a deep breath. In a swirl of purple-blue mist, Xein’s body exploded as long, gray dog hairs sprouted on every inch of his body, his clothes completely ripping from his larger wolf form. He quickly turned around, grabbed Kaori around the waist and started to run down the road on his powerful wolfish legs.

“Ahh!! What the hell!” she screamed as Xein tossed her onto his back.

Falling to all fours, Xein leaped across the road and dashed across town. “Hold on tight,” he said in a gruff wolf voice. “I’ll have ya there in five minutes.”