SSS Awakening: All My Clones Have Divine Bloodlines!

Percival didn’t answer right away. He just stood there, motionless, head tilted slightly to one side, as if he were studying an insect instead of recognizing his own blood.

Then, slowly, his lips curved into a smile, the same smile Vincent had seen a thousand times as children, except now it was completely emptied of anything human.

"Brother," Percival said, his voice still carrying a familiar echo, distorted faintly by something unnatural underneath. "Seems like this place hasn’t been treating you well."

Percival had been traveling with Adrian until not long ago, both of them heading this way after sensing two figures in that shared vision, one had been Vincent, the other Selena.

But just as they’d been closing in on the edge of the forest, Adrian had received another vision, one that changed things a little. Adrian decided to go after different prey instead, something that looked like it could be more of a problem, and told Percival to keep hunting on his own, the two of them were too weak to be worth his time. So Percival had. And now that he’d seen his brother’s actual condition, Adrian had clearly been right. There was nothing here worth fearing.

Something in that answer eased Vincent, just slightly. Percival recognized him. Strange as his voice sounded now, at least that meant he wasn’t entirely gone, and that thought lit a small, stubborn spark of hope in him.

Even so, the sense of unease welling up inside him refused to let him lower his guard, forcing him to avoid doing anything reckless.

"You still haven’t answered my question," Vincent said. "What happened to you... and why did you attack me?"

He held his ground, kept the distance between them.

Part of him wanted to close it. Wanted to see with his own eyes whether his brother was really hurt, whether there was anything he could do to help him.

But something instinctive kept holding him back.

Maybe it was the way Percival looked. Maybe it was that manic, twisted expression. Or maybe it was just the strange presence bleeding off him, Vincent couldn’t say. He only knew that finding out wouldn’t do him any good.

It was as if one part of him still recognized the person standing there, while another part was screaming at him not to lower his guard.

Percival studied him for a few seconds, then glanced down at his own body.

"What happened to me?"

He repeated the words slowly, almost amused by them.

"Isn’t it obvious? I’ve become stronger. Much, much stronger than before." His smile turned distinctly wrong. "Stronger than you."

’Stronger?’

Vincent’s eyes dropped to his brother’s condition.

"Does this power have something to do with what happened to you?"

"You keep saying something happened to me. What are you, a damn parrot?" he said with a scoff.

"The only thing that matters now is that the roles are reversed. I’m the strong one between us now. You, on the other hand..." He paused, letting his gaze drag over Vincent’s ruined arm, his blood-soaked coat.

"Well, let’s just say you’ve been better."

"You felt the strength behind my last attack, didn’t you? That’s the kind of power you can have if you follow my master. He won’t just restore you to perfect health, he’ll also give us the chance to finally leave this place."

He said it with a smile that might have looked, on anyone else, like a little brother trying to take care of his older one.

But Vincent saw none of that. Whatever doubt he’d been carrying was gone now. The thing standing in front of him wasn’t his brother anymore.

’Master?’

His grip tightened on his sword. Something complicated moved behind his eyes, grief, conflict, anger. Anger at his own weakness, at not being able to save him, or whatever remained of him. And underneath all of it, something harder settling into place.

Determination. To free whatever was left of his brother’s soul from the thing controlling it.

Percival watched him stay silent, watched his hand stay locked on the hilt of his sword, and let the act drop. His expression went flat, cold.

"So that’s your answer..." he said calmly.

"Oh well. I was willing to do this the easy way." His voice lost all warmth.

"But if you’d rather do it this way, fine by me."

The words hadn’t even finished ringing out before Vincent’s instincts screamed, and he threw himself sideways without a second’s hesitation.

Fwish.

Less than a second later, something like a clawed hand tore through the space he’d been standing in. Percival was no longer where he’d been, he was there instead.

"Hah. Not bad. Even in your condition, you can still move that fast?" Percival chuckled.

"Good. That’ll make this much more entertaining."

As soon as those words fell, a fierce battle erupted.

Dozens of blows were exchanged within only a few short moments, more than enough for it to become painfully clear who held the upper hand.

Vincent, already wounded and down an arm, was losing ground with every second, and it wasn’t long before a blow caught him square in the stomach, not hard enough to kill, but it was more than enough to inflict severe internal injuries and send him crashing to the ground.

He tried to push himself up. Blood rose in his throat. He coughed it out, gasping for air, eyes locked on the figure standing a few feet away, watching him with something manic in his expression.

"Well, this is disappointing. I really thought you’d hold out longer." Percival lifted one hand, fingers lengthening, narrowing at the tips into something like claws. "But this works too."

There was nothing in the look he gave Vincent, no guilt, no hesitation. Just cold, quiet certainty, like he was doing nothing more than swatting a fly.

"This is goodbye... brother."

The hand came down.

He followed it from beginning to end, ready to meet his death head-on.

But death never came.

Not then, not even a second later.

Instead, a slender shadow entered his fading vision.

A female figure.

Her sword was already drawn as she charged straight toward Percival.

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