Dimensions Collide: Destiny Bond-Chapter 180: Out of Breath
Side Story 4: Out of Breath
“Ah, shit,” John muttered, stopping to take a break.
He was panting, trying to gain his bearings, but ultimately failing. He should’ve never underestimated the illusion magic of the Ninetails clan.
Ultimately, his current state was that of an ordinary mortal. Even with a bit of [Infinity], he wasn’t exactly the best match against things like trickery and mind-based attacks. What had he been thinking?
“Seriously,” he muttered. “Where the hell am I supposed to go? Shouldn’t I have received an invitation to this wedding or something? Or… were they watching me from the start?”
He sat down on a bench, staring up into the sky. The village was as peaceful as ever. The air still pure, the wind still fresh, the scenery still perfect… its soothing effect was helpful for once. John took in a deep breath, trying to cool himself down, hoping to recover some of his mentality.
“John?” Destiny said, frowning. “Um… no offence, but where are we going?”
“Ah.” John’s head snapped back into focus, seeing the worried faces of his companions. “You guys haven’t been in the village that often… I guess I should explain.”
With a sigh, he sat up, resting his hands on his knees.
“The village is a lot bigger than what we were shown. There are entire other districts you guys haven’t seen that are hidden behind illusions. I mean, it makes sense. The specialty magic of the Ninetails clan is illusion magic, you know?”
“...it is?” Destiny frowned.
Even Prota seemed surprised.
“You guys- seriously, Kit never told you this? And Prota, you never bothered to check?”
Both shook their heads, somewhat embarrassed.
John sighed again.
“Alright, fine. Whatever. Look, it’s pretty simple, ok? They clearly already know something is up. They’ve reinforced the illusions. Getting through… I mean, it’s possible, but how?”
“I can try cutting through,” Destiny suggested. “But the problem is that it’ll take up a lot of my mana. I’m not perfect yet, and using it to cut mana uses up most of my pool-”
“Wait, you figured out how to use your unique skill?” John exclaimed, eyes wide. “Wait, that’s huge! Holy shit, man! That’s amazing!”
“I appreciate it, but… still, we need to figure out what we’re doing. John, are you suggesting that you and Prota can take on a Mystic alone?” Destiny asked, worried. “I mean, I’m not saying you two are weak. But… even with me, I’m worried that we won’t be able to deal with things all that easily. Are we ready?”
“...you’re right,” John muttered, suddenly frowning. “I sort of assumed things might work out, but you’re right. We can’t use you when fighting the prince. Then… hm…”
For a moment, John had felt an incredible amount of hope. Destiny learning how to use his ability had been something John was relying on, but if he were to use it to clear a path to the enemy, it wouldn’t do. But what else could they do? They were stuck dealing with illusions nobody knew how to break through.
“You’re fucking kidding me. The hardest part about this is finding the enemy. Seriously? The fight’s supposed to be the difficult part,” John muttered.
Suddenly, he shook his head. Since when was he so wrapped up in indecision? The [Author] wasn’t going to give him a fight he couldn’t win. Of course, if John made mistakes, that could spell his doom, but creating an unwinnable scenario wasn’t entertaining. The [Author] wouldn’t do something so stupid.
In the end, it was easiest to charge blindly. If they couldn’t use Destiny to fight, that was fine.
John would figure it out in the end.
“Alright,” he sighed, standing up, dusting his hands off on his pants. “Let’s go.”
“The plan?” Destiny said, frowning.
“You cut through.”
“But-”
“We’ll figure it out. Look, we can either sit here like bums, twiddling our thumbs and getting fuckall done, or we can fight. I’d rather fight.”
“But-”
“Sure. Maybe we can’t win. But if we just keep sitting here, what’s gonna happen? We’re going to lose Kit anyway. Do you understand?”
For a moment, John flinched. Technically speaking, they could just leave Kit here. They would at least save their lives, which weren’t guaranteed if they went to go fight the prince.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on NovelFire. any occurrences elsewhere.
No. That wasn’t an option. John shook his head, trying to physically shake the thoughts out. He’d made a promise. He would keep that promise.
Even if he himself didn’t understand why.
“...you’re right,” Destiny sighed. “I shouldn’t have needed you to tell me that. If we just sit around, we lose. We might as well try, right?”
John grinned. “Right. And Prota’s got me. Right, Prota?”
The girl looked up in surprise.
“You were asking if you could fight Mystics. Now’s your chance. Right?”
Prota’s eyes widened.
“...are you scared?”
The question wasn’t an insult. At that moment, John genuinely wanted to know if Porta was scared.
It was a fair question, after all. She’d faced countless foes stronger than herself, and she’d come out victorious every time. However, in hindsight, those fights were forced. They were situations with no other option, and so Prota had fought to survive or protect John. This would be the first time that they charged into a deadly fight of their own will.
Prota cared for Kit. But self-preservation was a strong desire. Prota had managed to get rid of that instinct in combat, but out of combat seemed to be a different story entirely.
“...nn,” Prota nodded slightly.
John grimaced. He hadn’t been expecting this. Still, how could he force Prota to fight if she didn’t want to?
“...for now, just break the illusion over there,” John told Destiny. “Maybe we won’t have to fight. I just want to check that it’s something we can do.”
“Got it.”
Prota watched as the hero’s blade began to glow a golden light, matching the hue of his eyes. WIth a mighty roar, he swung down, and it seemed as if space itself had been split. It looked like reality was a fabric, and Destiny’s sword was a pair of scissors tearing through, revealing what was on the other side.
As John had said, there was a path to an entirely different area neither Prota nor Destiny had ever seen.
“...you weren’t kidding,” Destiny said, mouth agape. “There really is way more to this place.”
“Yeah. You thought I was lying? What the hell, man?” John complained. “Now, what to do…”
Suddenly, a rustling sound came from behind. The trio whirled around, weapons ready, anticipating the worst, but none of them were expecting the figures who had appeared.
“Mi-miss Dawn? Mister Wolfhound? What are you two doing here?” Destiny exclaimed.
Their professors from Scholaris had appeared. John was the most confused. He would’ve thought that they wouldn’t interfere for quite some time, for two reasons. One was that they should’ve been busy with the Scholaris reparations, but the other was a bit more important:
They were too powerful.
[Stories] were meant to be a relatively consistent uphill battle. If certain [Characters] became too strong, they were to be removed as not to interrupt the tension and pacing of a [Story]. This was likely the reason [Infinity] existed: it would be stupid if John just played god all the time in a [Story] meant to be entertaining.
So if the current arc were to be about Mystics, it wouldn’t make sense to have Mystic allies. That would defeat the point of the battle. John had always assumed that this place would exist in order to teach Destiny how to fight Mystic level threats, but if other Mystics were there to fight for him, that would ruin everything.
So why were they here? Why now?
“Hello again,” Leora smiled, smoothing out her hair. “It’s been a while.”
“It’s been a few months. A while, my ass,” John grumbled. “How did you two even end up here?”
“That’s… It’s a long story. However, I believe you are in need of assistance. The Ninetails clan is not strong, but they are still Mystics. From our previous experiences with you, it seems they will not hold back. So…”
“Isn’t this also interfering with mortals?” John frowned. “Come on. Just tell me how strong this prince is, and you guys can just leave.”
“John!” Destiny exclaimed. “You’re seriously-”
“Trust me. If we accept their help, things will seriously go to shit. Look, I know you guys came with good intentions. But if you try to get involved… I don’t know. I get a really bad feeling about this. If you can tell me how strong this Chen So guy is, that would be more than enough.”
Leora sighed. “Very well. I suppose I will let Lupin explain.”
John nodded. This was great.
“Chen So… his physical abilities are something you can handle.”
Prota and Destiny nodded, but John flinched.
Lupin’s voice. It definitely wasn’t normal.
Normally, it was deep, calm, quiet, a little gravelly. It held weight to it, held a simple yet incredibly effective severity to it that made him an incredibly effective mentor. It fit his appearance as an old yet distinguished gentleman, and his identity as a wolf.
Now, however, it was completely the opposite. Light in tone, mildly nasally, almost to the point it was whiny, and a little strained. It didn’t fit his appearance at all.
“...hey,” John frowned.
This was likely going to be rude, but he didn’t care.
“Did something happen to you?”
“To me?” Lupin frowned. “What makes you say that?”
His manner of speech was still the same. But his voice… what in the world was going on?
“You- your voice,” John stammered. “What happened?”
“What do you mean, his voice?” Destiny frowned. “John, it’s the same as always. Are you ok?”
“No, I swear to god, I’ve- his voice- that’s definitely not right!” John muttered, holding his head, eyes bugging out as if he were going insane. “No, no, I’ve… it’s an illusion. It’s got to be a trick, something, anything-”
“John. What in the world are you saying?” Lupin asked.
“What the- I know that voice!” John suddenly exclaimed. “Carl Wheezer! Carl fucking Wheezer! That’s- that’s an entirely different [Story]! I barely watched that show! What the fuck?”
“Who?” Lupin frowned. “John, get a hold of yourself! What is going on with you?”
John tried to calm down, but he couldn’t. That voice was one he recognized. But how? Why? To begin with, weren’t there copyright issues? Also, wouldn’t this imply he was in some kind of medium with voice acting?
It didn’t make sense. It just didn’t add up. Too many things were happening. He could feel his mind breaking under the confusion, the panic, his sanity slowly crumbling away.
“John.”
John’s head snapped up as Lupin spoke once more.
“Are you going to finish that croissant?”
To John’s horror, there was a pastry in his right hand.
“Wha- huh- I-”
Suddenly, he snapped up into a sitting position, panting, sweat pouring down his face. He looked around wildly to see that he was in the bedroom he’d been provided by the Ninetails. Prota’s bed was empty. She was likely downstairs or out training.
“A dream,” John panted, feeling an immense wave of relief wash through his body. “Oh, my god, holy fucking shit, that was terrifying.”
Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes, eternally grateful that the [Story] hadn’t actually taken this route. Then, as calm returned to his mind, he remembered what he had planned for today.
The wedding.
He slipped out of bed, walking over to the chair where his hoodie and scarf were, then threw them on and went down the stairs.
John was feeling strangely nervous.
He shook his head. This wasn’t an emotion he should ever feel in this situation. Nervousness was reserved for when things went out of his control. To be nervous now meant…
Ah. Things were already out of control.
“Prota. Destiny,” John called out as he went down the stairs.
.
!
Chapter 180: Out of Breath
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