Adagio’s body lay on the sand, back embracing the shore like a long lost lover as her eyes and naked front stared longingly at the sky. Eyes that were otherwise unfocused. Her chest refused to rise, her nearly unnoticeable breath stifling her as water trudged through her system. This was it. Just a few more minutes and it would all be over. No more pain, no more regret, just the emptiness of sweet, sweet release.

Adagio had been in pain for so long. She never had shown it of course. As the older sister, she had to be the one with the plan, the leader. She had to be calculated, most of all, she had to be strong. On arriving in this world she wanted to cry and scream in a similar manner to her sisters. Of course she did. But did she? No. She had to be the elder sister, the Goddess, the Siren. She had to lead, she had to make sure that they would make it through the night every night. Who else would? Aria was too impulsive and Sonata was nursing an MCI. Luckily they had their song and sadly, all the time in the world.

Now things were different though. Their song whisked to the winds with their Siren hearts. Now they were little more than mortal girls. Luckily they had some savings stashed away, but how long that would last would be anyone’s guess, especially considering the current state of her sisters.

Aria was an angry mess of damaging words and mild alcoholism. Sonata was even more wonkily cheerful than she ever was before, though Adagio could see those almost invisible effects on her sister. Sonata had attempted to soundproof her room, not well enough though, around midnight one could hear ear-piercing shrieking that sounded like Hades himself had appeared before her. Such sounds were usually accompanied by a mix of crying, begging and incoherent mumbling.

And then there was Adagio. Adagio was the elder sister, the peacekeeper, the leader. But now her plan had failed them, the cost for this mess of an event being far too great. Every night she had nightmares, dreams of her sisters blaming her for their failure, after which they would either abuse or discard her. Other dreams were limited to devilish faces of the seven who had taken everything from her. They laughed and taunted her, hanging her sisters on strings. In said dreams she could only watch in shock, never act, never scream, just watch as the weight of failure pressed into her eternal mind.

But no longer. You see, Adagio Dazzle was never truly confident, truth be told, she was always afraid. Afraid that Starswirl would appear and finish them off, afraid that they would be discovered and be disposed of, afraid that one day they would lose their powers and be helpless, and finally, the age old fear of death. Well, perhaps not the last one. If her current situation was anything to behold, she welcomed it. This was the worst possible situation imaginable, their song was gone, her sisters were slowly losing themselves and she herself was becoming more and more manic by the day.

Insomnia claimed her nights, paranoia claimed her days and absolute despair paved the path she walked every waking moment.

She no longer feared death. Like the open, undulating arms of the ocean she welcomed it, and as water claimed her breath back into darkness she strode.

-

Those comforting hands of unseeable black surrounded her body, the feeling of invulnerability intoxicating. There was no sense of power within this embrace. There was simply the eternal promise that nothing could harm her anymore. And with a tremendous ‘Bang!’ it was all gone. Her eyelids snapped open so violently she feared they would retract back into her head as water violently shot itself out of her lungs which now felt as if they were being folded inwards. Pain bloomed throughout her formerly filled organs like a rose in time-lapse.

Water flew out of her mouth as what felt like a palm slammed into her chest with a force akin to a bison ramming into a wall. And the wall broke, along with her ribs. She coughed blood as her head shot upwards, panic overtook her as her cloudy eyes darted from side to side. To her left she saw the fuzzy silhouette of a male. That was the last thing she saw before a fist crashed into her left temple, rendering her unconscious for the time being. The darkness surrounded her.

And then she was yanked from it once more by another ‘Thump!’ on the center of her chest. Her breath unsteady and chest pained as she flailed her arms wildly, attempting some resistance against the unknown entity. She felt a strong grip on her right wrist and another blow to her right temple, followed by another blow to her other temple. She slumped back down, the pain and discomfort spreading within the sides if her head like molten nails was too much for her to even think clearly. Whoever this person was, he was strong, much stronger than her and from his former actions he was quite suited for it. Tears stung her eyes, salty rivers streamed down her face as she realized what was most likely about to happen. She opened her eyes and shifted their focus, whispering with a voice so hoarse it could barely be recognized as her own.

“P-pleas-URGH!”

Her attempt at speech was interrupted by another impact on her chest, followed by another on her stomach, both of which, shot the remaining water out of her system. Adagio lay there with her eyes wide, staring at nothing as the pain registered withjn her and with it came the simple realization.

He wouldn’t stop

And

She couldn’t stop him.

Winding, salty rivers ran themselves dry as she shut her eyes and laid motionless, hoping that it would be quick. Whatever it was, she didn’t know. She simply hoped it wasn’t what she was thinking. The impacts on her chest and stomach took an agonizing, compact rhythm, giving an experience that she could best describe as having a large jackhammer pound her chest at half speed.

When it had finally stopped Adagio found it difficult to even move. The pain in her chest had reached points at which she never thought it could again. The only thing comparable was losing her siren’s heart, but even that was scarcely similar to the sheer discomfort she was in. Her throat felt sore from upchucking saltwater and she would imagine some blood, her ribs were a writhing chest of agony, possibly broken and of course, she was cold. So unmistakably cold. That was to be expected of course. One simply could not be nude in the middle of the night and expect those scaldingly frigid winds not to assault their bare body. The frigid air was sharp and it felt as if it gave gentle incisions along her skin as it passed. At least it numbed her pain to some extent.

For a few minutes she just lay there, engrossed in her own pain however then another sound introduced itself. Footsteps. Soft, meaningful steps along the sand and they were approaching her. No doubt from the one who had formerly pummeled her poor lungs. The footsteps stopped just hairs breath away from her and she was overcome with a feeling of odd, overpowering dread. She kept her eyes shut as she felt something travelling up her legs. She couldn’t quite tell what it was as she was now numb from the cold. Here it was. Here was the thing she now feared. She came seeking to end her life but now something else would be ended, and worst of all against her will. Fresh tears and panic overcame her but she could do nothing. Her limbs were cold, almost dead, her body in unmistakable pain and her ribs were most certainly broken. She could do nothing. For the third time in her life, Adagio felt helpless. There was nothing she could do but take it and hope to Faust that it would end. That it would all e- she heard the sound of a buckle snapping followed by a familiar feeling of cloth wrapping around her arms and chest.

Cautiously she opened her eyes and glanced at her body, she was back to wearing her classic puffy cuff jacket and tights. The same set she had formerly thrown into the sea. And they were dry. Odd was not the word to describe this. Freaky came close but considering that someone just assaulted and clothed her neither word could possibly describe the oddity of the current situation. Or the fist that once more neared her forehead.

//???’s POV//

It was on the most serene of nights that the strangest things occurred. Or so it seemed as he slung the body of an unconscious girl over his shoulder. She had unkempt puffy orange hair, yellow skin and now acquired a host of bruises and chipped ribs from what he himself could only describe as ‘overenthusiastic CPR’ which roughly translated to palm-fisting her chest with a jackhammer rhythm to both rouse her from shock and rid her body of the water she so eagerly ingested. And the fact he had knocked her out due to the simple truth that once such a person realized they were not dead, they were prone to attempt a retry, the simple solution being temporary incapacitation.

Also, hurting people is fun. Anybody saying otherwise is lying to your face.

Honestly, the bitch flailed so much he feared he would have to break her limbs. Luckily she lacked the same trait everyone in this blasted city seemed to miss, physical strength. And to this he compared restraining her to stifling his last Hearth’s Keeper with a blanket. Far too easy.

Sadly his better judgment knew exactly why she was so terrified when she awoke. Frankly, it was the most common reaction in the given situation

Placing his mild act of meaningful assault aside, he had just clothed the shivering thing and had taken his destination to be a nearby family diner. This diner opened late hours into the night and the food was cheap and not half bad, best of all they rarely asked questions, and even so employees of the establishment were quick about themselves. All in all it was perfect for him.

But again this question rang in his head, why a diner? Why anywhere? Why did he not just-
Bah! Why not?

Such was his usual reply to such thoughts. Why? No, such a question lost its meaning around someone such as him, one who acts without thinking and holds little conscience. A better question would be, Why not?

‘Ring!’ That classic sound of the bell played on repeat as he pushed open the door, walking over to a two-seated round table. He seated the girl he would now refer to as ‘Tide’ onto a chair and sat on the one opposite to her. The waiter came.

“Must be a new one,”

He muttered under his breath as he averted his glance from ‘Tide’ A boy, more likely to be a jock, he had blue hair that stood upward on three ends and a complexion similar to but brighter than that of the girl he had just….saved?

The waiter took one look at the unconscious girl and turned to him, before he could get a single syllable in his somewhat raspy, deep and at the same time smooth voice gave a reply.

“She tripped on the pavement,”

The waiter again tried to say something but was once more cut off by a more rough statement from him.

“Yes, the flat. Fucking. Pavement,”

Bluey took the hint and sighed. Once more before he could say anything he was cut off.

“One order of Number twelve and two glasses of water,”

The waiter’s expression fluttered from annoyance to confusion for a split second, then he simply walked back to the kitchen, arms flailing at his sides. He smiled to himself. One should always mind their own business and on a side note keep skin thick enough to resist a bullet. After all, ‘Let not the sins of one bear the sins of many and let not the sins of many bear down on one’, an odd sentiment. He honestly wasn’t sure if it even found context In this situation.

Dispelling his almost random thoughts, he turned back and aimed his dagger-like gaze at the girl before him, taking particular interest in her lidded eyes. He replayed in his mind his previous actions. He ran through the possibilities before him.

He couldn’t help but smile.

//Adagio’s POV//

Slowly, she regained consciousness and instinctively attempted to raise her upper body. She regretted it instantly. While not nearly as bad as before the pain was still there, pulsing lightly in her chest complimented by a pounding headache. Nonetheless she had to know where she was. Her last memory was anything but pleasant after all.

She opened her eyes and what she saw invoked the age old impulse to run as fast and as far away from here as possible. She had heard of this world’s version of Tartarus, Hell they called it and it was said a lone individual in the shape of man and face of the devil ruled over the damned souls that were dragged to the accused place, cursed to suffer eternal torment for their sins. She had never believed it until now for before her was an individual who appeared in the visage of the devil himself. He wore a black jacket with a white undercoat shiny black shoes and a red tie with yellow polka dots. On his collar was a single pin of a black sun with twisted, blackened rays of heat curving outwards form the center like demonic tentacles. On the round center was a single white eye and under it was a small, curved grin adorned with sharp teeth. How such detail could be fitted into such a small pin amazed her but that emotion was overshadowed by the face he held.

His mouth was twisted upwards unnaturally into a wide smile matched only by the one they called ‘Pinkie’ except his was much, much worse. His cheeks curved and creased as his smile extended upwards and convex eyes curving towards his brow in a sharp, angular way. The best description she could give would be that some god decided to mold his smile out of a Japanese demon mask.

After a few minutes his face relaxed, smile replaced by a small grin and face relapsing into a somewhat casual expression. On a further glance his hair was black, somewhat shiny and his complexion took an appearance one would call ‘tanned’. His eyes were brown and his chin was curved, his face shape was similar to the waiter. His oddest feature was his jaw, which appeared sturdy, the muscles below his cheeks oddly toned, similar to what his attire hinted at. Overall he was not half bad.

He smiled, the gesture gave her slight comfort and she leaned towards the table, stopping herself when she realised that she was in fact both alive and somewhere. Her eyes darted across the rather small dining area. There were six tables lined up in a single column near the clear glass window on the left, a few feet from the first table was the entrance and to the right of the tables was a counter and two doors lower down marked, ‘Kitchen’ and ‘Restroom’ and the entire room was painted white with a tiled floor that followed suite. The tables were nothing special. They were round, small and made of plastic. Each one had two wooden chairs placed opposite to each other and the table always had a green tablecloth with a set of a knife, fork, spoon and napkin. Her table was no exception.

With every breath she took came a nagging pain in her chest and recounted events prior. More specifically, what he had just taken from her. Honestly she could not care very much about his assault on her lungs. It was very clear that if he had any malicious intention he would have done it and there would be nothing she could do to stop him. But again, she could not care for that. What she could care for, was the freedom he had just denied her, the promise of release from this prison of a mortal body, he denied her the opportunity to rid herself of the only thing she could take herself. Her life.

With pupils that shone with a vengeful fire that had not existed since the battle of the bands she glared at him and asked, her voice coarse as she almost choked on the word.

”Why?”

“What?”

His response was immediate and sharp, his voice ironically flowed like waves crashing on sand, rough, yet at the same time pleasant. Perhaps worst of all, nonchalant.

“Why did you save me?!”

She practically shouted the last word as she fell into a coughing fit once more, taking the glass of water near her and downing the entirety of it’s contents before the wretched stage subsided. He only answered once it did.

“Felt like it,”

Again, his response was short and crisp, not a hint of hesitation and not once did his pleasant smile falter, no once did his folded hands twitch or waver, not at all did he seem fazed by the sight or actions before him. He was unshaken. It was odd.

Adagio on the other hand was absolutely livid. This plebeian had denied her the sweet embrace of eternal freedom simply because he ‘Felt like it’? This would not do, there had to be something behind it. One simply does not do something there was always reason behind any action. Some moral code or set of rules that guides a person. Something she had learned many many years ago that all creatures held, even beings such as herself. If he was going to play that game then so was she.

“So what if you didn’t feel like it? ”

He raised a hand to his chin and stared at the ceiling for a second and then returned his gaze to hers and replied, his tone rather relaxed for the subject matter

“Then I would most likely have beaten your unconscious body till it was little than pulp and when I got bored I’d have either burnt it or throw it into the sea, whichever one came first really,”

Adagio’s jaw hung loose as she processed those statements. Hundreds of years of living had given her the ability to tell when a person was lying, to her dismay, he wasn’t. Not a single word he had spoken he had not meant and within his seemingly emotionless statement she had found something else, amusement. And that was terrifying.

He sighed and began to speak once more, this time his tone more casual, almost as if he was making conversation.

“I most likely haven’t said this yet but I am not the most mentally sound of individuals, even I don’t know what I’m going to do. Say that we were to go to my house, there is as equal chance of me locking you in my basement and fucking you silly as there is of me offering you a guest room, making chicken soup and watching a movie.”

To this her shoulders slumped down a bit and she hung both her head and jaw. This night was just getting worse and worse. First she had been denied respite from her accursed mortality, now she found out that she had been saved by one so fickle he could be a coin on the flip. This, she couldn’t take it. It was just too much, having her gem broken, her mortality, the inability to even pay the bills, Sonata’s mental health, Aria’s growing irritability and finally this monster of a human being! It was all just too much. Tears threatened to spring forth from the corners of her eyes but she refused them. Why couldn’t she just leave it all! It’s not like her presence was helping them in any way. On the contrary all she had done thus far was take up resources and wallow in her own failure. The world would be much better off without her. Her sisters too. They needed a real leader, not some overconfident girl hiding behind a millennia’s worth of bravado.

“What is your name?”

His deep voice roused her form her state of misery, not pulling her out but allowing her to at least think of something else. With shaky breaths and a quickened heart rate she answered softly.

“Adagio Dazzle.”

She heard a chuckle and raised her head. He was grinning at her, not evilly, no, this grin was simply there, an expression of his current state, he was amused.

“Oh? So you’re one of those who tried to blow up that school?”

Rage boiled in her when her memories bubbled to the surface, but that rage was drowned in the sea of despair with what followed after, losing her powers. When this one was gone she would go to the beach again. There was no hope for her, she simply could not take it anymore. Maybe her sisters would find something in her death, something to push them forward. Yes, it was a gracious thought indeed.

“But don’t you have two sisters? Hmm…..one called Sonata, a cheery one isn’t she, wonder how she’d take your death? She’s so happy, so carefree, on Cloud 9 if I heard it right. But. Have you ever head the saying, ‘the higher a ladder, the harder the fall’, she’s so happy now, but maybe, with your death it’ll all just go in reverse, and maybe, just maybe, she’ll follow suite,”

She had not thought about this, how could she? Such an outcome would be catastrophic but at the same time it made sense. A person was more likely to fall into despair over death than find hope in it, it made too much sense and Aria-

“And the other one, Aria? From what I hear that one’s already a bad apple, what’s to say that when you pass on she wants to do the same, or maybe she’ll try some ‘supplements’ to help cope, no? I know a few dealers, good stuff if I do say so myself, never tried it though,”

Oh Aria. Adagio cursed herself under her breath for her own foolishness and battled against the tears that were about to overcome her. How could she be this blind? this selfish? one decision and she could have doomed not only herself but her sisters as well.

"Wait, did I try it? I can't remember, I Wa- did I - Don't RE- I - What -"

She wanted to bash her head against the table. In short she hated herself at this moment. She was the one with the plan, she was supposed to be, but what of now? She had just executed one with misguided expectations of results and catastrophic consequences. Faust damned it all.

‘Ring!’ a doorbell sounded by the door, she turned ot the new sound and there he was, just about to leave. She had not heard him get up, nor his footsteps and as she looked into those deep brown eyes she saw something far more controlled than what he let on. Something that seemed, hurt, something that had become quite familiar to her as of late.

“I am Orthros Fenrir, the third sun that sets in reverse. It was a p-leasure Miss Adagio, I might just stop by on occasion. Have a wonderful night and remember, never stop thinking, the moment you do is the moment you die."

With that he left as suddenly as he came. The one called Orthros, he came with a physical ‘Bang!’ and left with an emotional one. Adagio didn’t show it while he was there but on that day his words etched themselves into her. And when he left she cried. She cried and cried silently into her cuffs. She cried for many things that night, the most prominent one was her own dumb luck.

//Orthros POV//

As he walked out the door he let out a sigh of relief as she broke down. He pitied her, poor thing, he could only imagine what she could be going through. From what he had gathered, before the 'event' she and her sisters had some ability of acute post-hypnotic suggestion, after it, they appeared to lose it. Induced, permanent disability.

She would need time to heal and a pillar of morale to support her. He had given her the first, the second he had just taken care of by baiting her with consequences. Some may call him a fickle, aggressive hound but all the same he was no fool, he may be a bit off but he was no fool and nonetheless it was easier to be mad and uncaring than it was to be sane and be hurt. This one would live another day. If she would fight, however, that was up to her.

He chuckled under his breath as he trudged through the city, the cold wind biting through his teeth as he wandered aimlessly,

“Helping someone, it’s quite taxing of a thing, isn’t it?”

He stopped walking.

He realized, he was thinking again. He didn’t like to think. The more he thought the more he realized just how deep the hole was and the more he realized that neither darkness nor light would overtake him so long as he was as he was. No matter, once more, ‘It was easier to be mad ad uncaring than be sane and be hurt.’ He refused to be hurt and he refused to allow anything to stand in his path. Though all the same. Such a sentiment, it’s not the most fulfilling to live by is it?

All around him was silence. He took this moment to describe silence. It was a beautiful instrument, and could be used to express any emotion that it is possible to feel. And at this moment, it expressed the original emotion that caused all of this. Why was he at the beach?

“You can fool all of the people some of the time and some of the people all the time, but you cannot fool all the people all the time,”

He chuckled and looked up to the sky, the blackness causing him to grin for no reason whatsoever.

”Who am I f-fooling this time?”

Number twelve on the menu was a combination of a sandwich, cola and a particularly large helping of ice-cream that was nicknamed by the owner of the diner, ”A Helping Hand”.

Author's Note

Hope it was enjoyable or bearable. Any tips on writing or corrections are appreciated. I thank you for reading this work.