Chapter Text
The old laboratory loomed before them, its crumbling walls barely visible in the moonlight. Maka Albarn stood at the entrance, gripping Soul in his scythe form. Her green eyes scanned the area, alert for any sign of danger.
"You sure this is the right place?" Soul's voice echoed from the blade.
Maka nodded. "According to the briefing, this is where those forbidden experiments happened. We need to find a dangerous artifact that was created during them."
She took a step forward, gravel crunching under her boot. The sound seemed too loud in the quiet night.
"Stay sharp, Soul. Something feels off."
"Got it. You sensing anything weird?"
Maka closed her eyes, focusing on her soul perception. "There's a strange energy inside. It's faint, but definitely not normal."
They cautiously stepped over piles of rubble and navigated through narrow, dimly lit corridors. The moon's pale light seeped through shattered windows, casting eerie shapes that seemed to follow them as they walked deeper into the abandoned building.
Soul watched Maka's face reflected in his blade. Her brow was furrowed, her jaw set with determination. But there was something else there too – a tension he couldn't quite place.
"Hey, Maka," he said, his reflection appearing on the scythe blade. "You've been pretty quiet lately. Everything okay?"
Maka's grip on the scythe tightened slightly. "I'm fine. Just focused on the mission."
Soul frowned but didn't push further. She's been like this for days now, he thought. Something's bothering her, but she won't talk about it. 'I hope she knows she can trust me.'
They came to a large room filled with old equipment. Dust-covered beakers and mysterious machines lined the walls. Maka carefully examined each item, but found nothing unusual.
"This place gives me the creeps," Soul muttered. "Let's hope we find that artifact soon."
As they moved deeper into the lab, Soul's worry grew. Maka's pushing herself too hard again. She always does this when something's eating at her. 'I wish she'd let me in.'
They searched room after room, finding nothing but decay and abandoned experiments. The eerie silence was broken only by their footsteps and the occasional creak of settling debris.
"Maybe we should take a break," Soul suggested after what felt like hours of searching. "You look tired."
Maka shook her head. "We can't stop now. It has to be here somewhere."
'There she goes again', Soul thought. Always pushing forward, never admitting when she needs rest. One of these days, it's going to catch up with her.
As they turned another corner, they found themselves in what looked like the main laboratory. It was larger than the other rooms, with high ceilings and rows of workstations. Dusty equipment and shattered glass covered the floor.
"This looks promising," Maka said, her eyes darting around the room.
They moved carefully through the space, checking each workstation. Soul kept his senses alert, ready for any threat. But his mind was still on Maka. 'I need to find a way to get her to open up. Partners are supposed to support each other, right? How can I support her if she won't let me in?'
Suddenly, Maka stopped. "Soul, look."
In the center of the room, on a raised pedestal, sat an ornate book-like object. It seemed out of place among the decay, its cover gleaming faintly in the dim light.
"That must be it," Maka whispered, approaching carefully. "The artifact we're looking for."
As they got closer, Soul could see the book pulsing with a faint, creepy light. Intricate designs covered its cover, similar of the Book of Eibon but somehow different.
"Be careful, Maka," Soul warned, a chill running through him. "That thing gives me the creeps. It's just like the-- Hey, are you listening?"
Maka reached out, her hand just inches from the book's surface. "We need to secure it and get it back to DWMA for—"
Suddenly, the book flared to life. A blinding light erupted from its pages, engulfing Maka.
"Maka!" Soul shouted, transforming back to his human form and reaching for his partner. His heart raced, fear gripping him. 'No, no, no! I can't lose her!'
But it was too late. The light intensified, and in a flash, Maka vanished, leaving Soul alone in the suddenly silent laboratory.
"MAKA!" Soul's anguished cry echoed through the empty halls, unanswered. He stood there, hand still outstretched, his mind reeling. I should have done something. I knew something was wrong, and I didn't do enough. I have to find her. I have to get her back.
Determination replaced his shock. Soul clenched his fists, red eyes blazing with resolve. Whatever it took, he would find a way to save his partner.
***
The blinding light engulfed Maka, her stomach lurching as if she were falling. She reached out desperately, Soul's name caught in her throat. For a split second, she saw his face – eyes wide with terror, hand stretched towards her. The raw fear in his expression mirrored her own rising panic.
"Soul!" she finally screamed, but her voice was swallowed by the overwhelming light. A wave of dread washed over her as Soul's image faded away. 'No, no, no! Don't leave me!' Her heart raced, each beat a painful reminder of her sudden, terrifying loneliness.
The light faded, leaving Maka in a strange, narrow corridor. The walls seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy, making her skin crawl. At the far end stood a single door, ominous in its solitude.
Maka's breath came in short, sharp gasps. She spun around, searching frantically for another way out, but found only blank, oppressive walls. Claustrophobia clawed at her chest, each breath more difficult than the last.
"Soul?" she called out weakly, her voice trembling. Silence answered, deepening her sense of isolation. 'I'm alone. I'm all alone.' The thought echoed in her mind, each repetition stoking her fear.
Maka slumped against the wall, sliding down to the floor. She hugged her knees to her chest, trying to make herself as small as possible. Tears stung her eyes as the reality of her situation sank in. 'What if I never see Soul again? What if I'm trapped here forever?'
Minutes ticked by, feeling like hours. The pulsing walls seemed to close in, their rhythm matching her rapid heartbeat. Finally, with no other choice, Maka approached the door on shaky legs. Her hand hesitated on the handle, dread pooling in her stomach. 'What's on the other side? Can I face it alone?' Doubt gnawed at her, but the suffocating walls of the corridor left her no alternative.
Maka pushed the door open with trembling hands, stepping into a distorted version of the DWMA's grand hall. Shadows of her classmates and teachers lined the edges, their faces blurred but watchful. Maka's eyes narrowed, her analytical mind kicking in despite her fear. 'This isn't real,' she thought. 'It's some kind of illusion.'
In the center stood Kami, Maka's mother, her back turned. Maka's heart leapt into her throat, but she steeled herself. "Mom?" she called out, her voice steadier than she felt.
Kami turned slowly, her face a mask of cool indifference. "Maka," she said, her tone flat. "Do you know what happened to my career as a top meister?"
Maka tensed, reminding herself this wasn't really her mother. "What do you mean?" she asked cautiously.
"It ended when I had you," Kami continued, her words sharp. "Raising you consumed everything. My talent, my potential, all of it sacrificed." She paused, her gaze piercing. "Tell me, Maka, have you become a meister good enough to make it worth it?"
The question hung in the air. Maka swallowed hard, fighting back the doubt creeping into her mind. 'It's not real,' she reminded herself, but the words stung nonetheless.
Spirit appeared beside Kami, his usual exuberance gone, replaced by a weary sadness. "Maka," he began, his voice uncharacteristically slow and cold. "I've always been there for you, supporting you, trying to be the best father I could be. But you've always hated me, haven't you?"
"Papa, that's not—" Maka started, but Spirit continued as if he hadn't heard her.
"I thought, at least, I could be proud of your accomplishments. That even if you didn't love me, I could take pride in the meister you've become." His eyes met hers, filled with disappointment. "But now... I'm not so sure I should be proud after all."
Maka felt her resolve wavering. 'This isn't real,' she thought again, but the words echoed her own secret fears.
Soul appeared next, his usual laid-back demeanor replaced by an air of superiority. "You know, Maka, I'm a Death Scythe now. Turns out, I don't really need a meister anymore."
Maka's heart clenched. 'This can't be real,' she thought desperately.
Soul's smirk turned cruel. "Actually, I've been thinking. Remember the Book of Eibon? How easily you were affected? A strong meister wouldn't have fallen for that. Maybe I've outgrown you. Maybe you just pulled me down all this time."
The rational part of Maka's mind screamed that this was wrong, that Soul would never say these things. But the artifact twisted her thoughts, amplifying her deepest insecurities. Memories of the Book of Eibon flooded back – the unresolved tension, the words left unspoken between them.
'No,' Maka thought, shaking her head. 'This isn't real. But... what if there's some truth to it?'
As Maka grappled with her conflicting thoughts, Black*Star appeared. His usual grin was replaced by a stern expression that sent chills down her spine.
"Maka," he said, his voice unnervingly serious. "We need to talk about your place on the team."
Maka crossed her arms, trying to maintain her composure. "Go on then," she said, her voice less steady than before.
Black*Star's words were measured and cutting as he outlined Maka's perceived weaknesses – her lack of physical strength, her slower speed, her inferior reflexes. Each point chipped away at Maka's confidence.
'This isn't the real Black*Star,' she thought. 'He wouldn't say these things.' But a small voice in the back of her mind whispered, 'But what if he's right?'
Black*Star began pacing, his words measured and cutting. "Your physical strength? Below average. Speed? You can barely keep up during basic missions. Reflexes? Everyone, even the NOT class students, outperform you."
Maka felt a twinge of doubt but pushed it aside. 'This isn't the real Black*Star,' she thought. 'He wouldn't say these things.'
"And let's not even start on your combat skills without Soul," Black*Star continued, his tone growing colder. "You're practically useless on your own. Tsubaki can hold her own without me, and I can work alone just fine, too. Can you say the same?"
Despite her best efforts, Maka felt her confidence waver. 'It's not true,' she told herself, but a small voice in the back of her mind whispered, 'But what if it is?'
"Then there's Kid," Black*Star added. "His powers are on a whole other level. Death God abilities aside, his marksmanship and tactical skills far surpass yours."
Maka's resolve began to crumble. These were thoughts she'd had before, insecurities she'd pushed down. Hearing them voiced aloud, even by this illusion, made them feel more real.
"Even Ox and Kilik, who aren't part of our main team, have more to offer in a fight," Black*Star concluded. "Face it, Maka. You're not just holding us back; you're a liability."
The seriousness in Black*Star's voice, his choice of words, all so unlike his usual self, made his words all the more devastating. Maka felt tears welling up in her eyes, her earlier certainty crumbling.
"I... I never thought about it like that," she whispered, her voice trembling. 'Could he be right? Am I really that weak compared to the others?'
Black*Star's expression softened for a moment, but his words remained harsh. "It's time you faced the truth, Maka. For the sake of the team, for the sake of the DWMA, you need to step aside. Let those of us who are actually capable handle things from now on."
As the shadows began to close in, their whispers a cacophony of disappointment, Maka found herself torn between knowing this was an illusion and the growing seed of doubt in her mind.
Suddenly, Ox materialized nearby, adjusting his glasses with a smug expression. "Oh, Maka," he said, his tone dripping with false sympathy. "I was going to gloat about scoring higher than you on the last test, but..." He paused, his smile turning cruel. "Well, you're at the bottom of the ranking list now. It wouldn't even be a challenge."
Maka's mind reeled. 'The bottom? But I've always...' Her thoughts trailed off, unable to complete the sentence. Had she really fallen so far? Even though she knew this wasn't real, the idea of failing academically struck a deep chord of fear within her.
As if to add to the surreal nature of the situation, Liz appeared briefly, looking disinterested. "Oh, by the way," she said casually, "I love jazz. It's pretty cool." With that, she vanished.
The darkness began to close in, the whispers growing louder. Maka felt herself being pulled under, drowning in a sea of inadequacy and failure. Just before the shadows consumed her completely, she heard Soul's voice one last time:
"You were never good enough, Maka. You never will be."
The world around Maka began to blur, the cruel faces of her friends and family fading into darkness. For a moment, she felt as if she were falling, tumbling through an endless void. Then, with a jolt, she found herself back in the strange corridor.
Maka blinked, disoriented by the sudden shift. The same featureless walls surrounded her, the same ominous door looming at the end. But now, everything seemed different. The air felt heavier, pressing down on her shoulders like a physical weight.
She stumbled forward a few steps, her legs weak and shaky. 'It wasn't real,' she tried to tell herself. 'None of it was real.' But the words rang hollow in her mind.
Maka's back hit the wall, and she slid down to the floor, pulling her knees to her chest. The voices from the illusion echoed in her head, a cacophony of doubts and fears:
'Have you become a meister good enough to make it worth it?'
'I'm not so sure I should be proud after all.'
'Maybe I've outgrown you.'
'You're not just holding us back; you're a liability.'
A sob escaped her throat, surprising her. Maka pressed a hand to her mouth, trying to hold back the tears, but it was futile. The dam broke, and she began to cry in earnest.
Her shoulders shook as she wept, tears streaming down her face. 'It wasn't real,' she thought again, but the pain in her chest felt real enough. The doubts felt real. The fear felt real.
"I'm sorry," she whispered between sobs, though she wasn't sure who she was apologizing to. Her mother? Her father? Soul? Or maybe to herself, for not being the person she thought she was.
Maka lost track of time as she cried, her sobs echoing in the empty corridor. The rational part of her mind knew she should get up, should try to find a way out, but she couldn't muster the strength. For now, all she could do was sit there, overwhelmed by the weight of her own perceived inadequacies.
The door at the end of the corridor seemed to pulse gently, a silent reminder that her ordeal wasn't over. But Maka couldn't bring herself to look at it. Instead, she buried her face in her arms and continued to cry, feeling more alone and lost than she ever had before.