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Dead and Yet to Manifest

Summary:

UU MAJOR SPOILERS!

 

Victor contemplates his fate, due to a new variable, Andy's existence.

What if he could die?

And what if he did reincarnate?

All for the one woman that's worth it.

Notes:

big spoilers for the manga up to 198 i think.

i thought of this as just the beginning of an idea, so feel free to expand upon it

something kinda poetic, something kinda tragic, something kinda fluffy

kinda experimental cuz im tryna do different perspectives

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

 

I-I-I-I

Remember




“Hey Victor? So lemme ask you this… d’ya believe in reincarnation?”

 

“Wazzat?”

 

“You know, it's when the soul lives for a loooong time… and you get reborn in a new body when you die.”

 

“No. I don't believe in it. Never believed in souls either. People live because blood pumps to their brains.”

 

“Aw, why not? C’mon, believe! It's way better that way!”

 

“And why's that?”

 

“Why…? Well, because I'd get to see you again, of course! Don't you fret! Even if I do die one day and wind up in a new body…”

 

 “...I swear I'll never forget you!”

 


 

How old was that memory, just now?

 

Across approximately 455.4 billion years.

 

What loop was it? What century was it? What decade was it? What year was it? What month was it? What week was it? What day of the week was it? The hour? The minute? The second?

 

Victor couldn't dare to remember. But even throughout, this rogue memory was stuck in his mind like a metal card.

 

That alien warmth she gave him. That odd feeling of his heartbeat speeding as the blood rushes into his face, instead of out of it for once. He rubbed the scar along his ring finger…



Ultimately, it didn't matter. Just knowing she'd somehow return eventually was enough for him, if she ever died. 

 

Even if it should be by his hand.



Fuuko Izumo’s soul was taken away by UMA Ghost.

 

Juiz transferred all of her points to both Fuuko and Andy, meaning she can't loop again.

 

Good.

 

Arc will be given to Fuuko Izumo, which works for me. I trust in my other self enough to know that he will save her from Ghost. But at the very end of this…

 

Juiz will die.

 

For her own good. It should all be left to me.

 

Regardless, I will make certain that Juiz meets her end, as well as make sure that Fuuko Izumo survives the onslaught of Despair.

 

No one negates death but I. But if the soul–

 

Bro, wicked rude. I'm Undead too.

 

“Get out of my thoughts, Andy.”

 

“If ya don't want me snooping, stop thinkin’ so damn loud.”










“What are your plans for after this loop is over?”

 

“Easy. I'll live happily ever after, smoochin’ it up with–”

 

“That is if we kill god.”

 

“You saying we can't?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Uh, I'll just float in space and wait around, then. You've done it a bunch, right? I can easily handle it.”

 

“What about me?”

 

“Waddya mean? I'm the one who'll do the waiting.”

 

“I’m talking about Remember. It'll disappear from this world, and appear sometime in the next loop as a quest reward.” 

 

“Eh?”

 

“I assumed one of us would remain in our mind, even if dormant. But what if my consciousness is stored within this Artifact?”

 

“You mean, what, you'll disappear too?”

 

“That's what I was wondering.”

 

“It won't kill ya. Cuz if you think it does, then it won’t. You're Undead.”

 

 

 

 


 

UMA Ghost and Unforgettable.

 

The soul and Remember.

 

Astral dolls.

 

The battle between Nico and Andy remains heavy on my mind. This wasn't the first loop he'd attempt to develop them, but it was the first loop I've seen them in their full potential.

 

And it's the first time I've seen the extent of the soul.

 

I assumed negation was tied to the body, since that's Andy and I share Undead, so how?

 

Juiz, Chikara, Void and Gina's astral dolls had their abilities.

 

Nico’s use of UMA Ghost made Void and Gina’s copies stronger, because they were dead. Juiz and Chikara’s copies were much less impressive.

 

It's already proven that there can be only one of each negator ability. The doll's didn't actually possess Unjustice, Unmove, Unavoidable and Unchange, seeing as the first two have current users, and the latter two have manifested elsewhere.

 

They were merely replications. The latter two got stronger because of the experiences of Void and Gina due to Ghost’s control of their souls. 

 

The reason the dolls could only function after Ghost came to be, must have been UMA Soul.

 

It has always existed as a master rule. UMA Ghost simply made the soul tangible for human manipulation. 

 

I don't know how Nico managed to replicate those abilities, and I don't care to understand it. 

 

However, this has destroyed my previous assumption.

 

Negation is tied to the soul, and not the body.

 

If my soul splits from my body, or rather, Andy’s body, once Remember is recycled for the next loop…

 

What will become of my Undead?

 

Two negators cannot possess the same power during the same time period. 

 

The only exception to this was when we were in the book of memories made by UMA Autumn. But seeing as imagination held great power there, I doubt that was actually telling of how it works. After all, I simply imagined things like clothes, and they came to be. So subconsciously, I must have assumed I was Undead, like I've always been, and that came to be.

 

His very existence has forced me into this situation. Ever since this damned card was lodged in my skull.

 

A split will occur. Which means it's entirely possible that…

 

…why am I thinking of this?

 


 

Juiz mentioned reincarnation to him long ago, but he didn't know if it was true, in the way she meant it.

 

Still, she's just as adamant about it today as she was back then. Almost like she knows. But who could've told her when he wasn't around? He doubted those Master Rules were chatty.

 

If he wasn't physically with her, then he must've been sleeping. 

 

…The book…

 

“Let me out, Andy.”

 

“Wazzat?”

 

“I need to speak with someone.”

 

“And after that?”

 

“I'll give the body back to you. I swear on–”

 

“Not a lot of time left for ya anyway. Make it count.”

 

Short silver strands darkened into a long black void.

 

The smell of fresh rain, the heat of warm wind, the light of day. There was still plenty of time until the next Union meeting, so he'd be alone.

 

Victor cracked his neck as he walked into the roundtable room. The shadowed walls welcomed him in, the gold and white roundtable shining in his presence.

 

The book spoke before even turning around, pages flipping as it floated in the air. “Well, if it isn't Andy–”

 

“Apocalypse.” He spoke coldly. Of course, Victor was never one for small talk to begin with.

 

“Well that’s interesting! It's you. Welcome, Undead.” Apocalypse laughed, long tongue emerging from his sharp mouth. 

 

The negator sat in his old seat, arms crossing in front of his broad chest. His blue gaze was as direct and unwavering as ever. “How does reincarnation work for someone like me? There are people who remain the same throughout the loops, but Juiz and I don't have parents in the first place.”

 

Apocalypse laughter only intensified. “You ask me this now, Undead? There's only one more loop you know. Besides, it's not possible for you, you'd need to die in the first place.”

 

“Answer my question.”

 

“You'll be given the right to dwell as the child of a couple who are not destined to have children. Unjustice asked me about this long ago as well.” The book grumbled, floating higher in the dim room.

 

“Since your soul would be residing in a vessel that contains its parents' genetic information you'd be a different person with a different name and appearance... more or less. Your appearance would change accordingly, and your name would be whatever those parents have given you.”

 

Victor paused in thought, azure eyes blank. “So, we would become entirely different people? I see.”

 

“In the best case, you'd be similar, but that doesn't mean the same.” Apocalypse added, surprisingly positive.

 

The conversation was over. And the deal was completed. The dark locks retreated, shiny chrome returning once more.

 

“Yo, Apoccy! The hell am I doing here?” The other Undead yelled, almost deafening the creature. Not that he had ears.

 

“Drop dead.”

 

“I kinda can't.”

 


 

My other self battles using my body.

 

The same battle I've lost ninety nine times.

 

My mind can't help but wander.

 

There's one question that's been on my mind all this time.

 

This indescribable sense of warmth... that you continue to give me.

 

Have I done anything to repay you for it? Even for just a fraction, one in a hundred million's worth?

 

“Tag me in, Andy.”



The world crumbles before me through phantom eyes.

 

And I see this sight for the thousandth time.

 

Fading through stars of old.

 

Yeah, I was born to live forever.

 

Forever.

 

Don't you feel good?

 

Say you feel good.

 

“...Good...”

 

I'll let you cry.

 

“...Good God…”

 

I'll let you die.

 

It's more than just me.

 

It's more that you'll see.

 

And it's more that you'll feel.

 

I paid the most, just to feel.

 

Clinging onto sheets.

 

Falling down for weeks.






















































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History repeats.

 






















 

I wake up from another nightmare.

 

A dream where my name isn't Vincent Torre.

 

Weird.

 

I'll forever be me, so… no point in pondering.

 

I am Vincent Torre.

 

I was born and raised in Roma, coming from a long line of gladiators, apparently. My dad died during a tournament of the strongest. I guess it's a tradition for my family.

 

But I can feel it. The connection. It explains why school isn't really my thing except for sports.

 

And maybe that's why I'm so good at fighting.

 

“Vin-Thor the Immortal”, They call me. I usually don't care for the nicknames, but Immortal is… pretty cool, I think.

 

I live for combat, and I die for combat. Throughout my years of training, and despite my body, I remain undefeatable in the ring. 

 

Ninety nine wins, zero losses.

 

I say despite my body, and sure, I'm fit, I've gained some muscle mass since I started practising, but, I'm still scrawny.

 

A shrimp compared to the man I see in my dreams.

 

More of a god than a man, really.

 

The person I see in my dreams is handsome… and strong.

 

Sometimes, he's like the prince of some story.

 

Other times, he's like the hero.

 

But his presence feels… suffocating.

 

Sometimes, he's with his friends, but most of the time… he's just… all alone. Floating.

 


 

“Vin, boy! Come out here! We've got a letter from abroad!” His mother happily called from the living room.

 

The dark-haired young man came out of his room, white shirt almost see-through from sweat. “From abroad?”

 

“It's from England, your school partnered with an English fencing school, and they're offering to send you there on scholarship! Looks like they've seen your skills and decided to put it to good use, bambino.”

 

Vincent shook his head. “Fencing? I fight with my fists, you know… plus, going to England? What a bother.”

 

His mother sighed, putting the letter down on the table, standing on her feet to pat his head.

“Don't be like that, Vinny. It's a brilliant opportunity for you. Plus, I could tell my friends that my precious bambino is studying abroad, eh?”

 

“Fine. I'll think about it. I'll go watch some TV.”

 

Two long, dark bangs sprung out on his forehead as her hand stopped ruffling his hair. Travelling to England? 

 

…Alone?

 

As if.

 


 

“JULIA U. STITIA!

 

Not only is this your first tournament win, it's also the first you've ever entered. I've heard that you've only been handling the sabre for a week. Do you care to comment on that further?”

 

“Ha-ha-ha. It just really clicked with me…

 

That laugh. The way she hid it behind her knuckle.

 

“And that allowed you to win the tournament?! What terrifying talent!!”

 

…It couldn't be, right? She's not anything like her. She was much taller, her hair was longer… and her posture was basically perfect. 

 

Even if she didn't show up too often in his dreams, when she did… it was hard not to take notice.

 

This one didn't have all of that. Their faces were similar, sure. And maybe their hair was that same soft, shiny rose. Like a strawberry colour. And yeah, their eyes were that same beautiful gold…

 

He wished he could wipe off the red from his cheeks. The same red the god would sometimes have.

 

God, goddamn it. 

 

He sighed, finally caving in. Maybe a bit too easily. “Mamma?”

 

“Yes, Vick?” She happily chimed, though she already knew he'd never settle to stay.

 

“I'm… I'm gonna go.”



This flight is it. I'm out of my mind, going to England just for a girl.

 

No, no, I'm doing this for mamma. Big opportunity for me and all that.

 

She's not just a girl though. If she's anything at all like that person…

 

She might be the key to everything.

 

Through this little window… Italy looks so small.

 

Where was his home, I wonder?

 


 

England was… nice. There’s this kind of charming mediocrity to it. The brick buildings looked settled, smoothed by time.

 

Maybe a little too smooth, Vincent thought.

 

The big red buses were cool. The sky was grey, clouds coming together as it rained a light drizzle. A gust of wind made his hair flow behind him, as he made his way to his new training ground.

 

This is it. The English Fencing School. It was quite great to think he'll get to stay in the same place as these rich idiots, for a fraction of the price, just because he's better than everyone else at kicking ass. Of course he'll have to settle in and get to know how everything ran first, before even hoping to look for–

 

“SEAN DATZ! I CAN'T CONVEY MY FEELINGS IN A LOVE LETTER ALONE! PLEASE GO OUT WITH ME!!”

 

Huh!?

 

A whole line of ‘em! Pompous brats declaring their love or whatever for… uh…

 

Uh.

 

She started apologising. Something about not reading his letter, and probably misplacing it somewhere. Then she rejected him, apologised once more, and offered to be friends.

 

Then he disappeared into thin air, completely unseen. He must've ran off in embarrassment.

 

Vincent watched as the line shortened, the kind hearted girl rejecting and then befriending her pursuers. Damn, bunch of pricks.

 

He wouldn't get involved. It's not like they know each other. The young man crossed his arms behind his head as he walked past. Just around the corner, his dorm should be room number…

 

A tug on his arm interrupted. A delicate, gloved hand meeting his calloused one.





I feel like… I remember you.”

 


 

“I mean… I'm sorry to trouble you, sir. But… you remind me of someone that I think I know.” She quickly apologised as their eyes locked.

 

Gold and blue swirled together for the first time in billions of years. As beautiful as it was the last one hundred times.

 

“My, I didn't even introduce myself…” She laughed behind her hand.

 

He chuckled in return. Face threatening to warm. “Yeah… uh, Vincent Torre. Nice to meet you.” He met her eyes again, finding she had the same problem.

 

“Julia U. Stitia! But please just call me Julia. Are you new here, Vic–I mean–Vincent?” 

 

“Yeah. First day. You can just call me Vick if you want.”

 

“Splendid! May I invite you to tea with me?”

 

He agreed, and she stole him away to a local spot. A small but cosy place, leather chairs elegantly scattered around round tables. He never liked round tables, but whatever.

 

As they took a seat, she smiled at him once more, and he felt it.

 

That kind of warmth you can only get in a dream.

 

And by gods was she feeling it as well. 

 

“So I'm… someone you know?” He started, scanning the paper menu in front of him.

 

She nodded vigorously, hands on top of each other serenely. Her expressions and body language were on total opposite timings, like she was trying to hold her excitement back.

 

“Vick… may I confess something strange?”

 

The boy paused, voice not coming out as easily as he'd hoped. “Sure.”

 

“Every night, I dream the same dream. The place changes, the weather changes, the stakes change, the situation changes… and the people change too, sometimes. Except for two. Like my dreams follow them no matter what. It's been bugging me for as long as I've lived, honestly.”

 

Oh.

 

“...You don't believe me do you? I know it's crazy and perhaps it sounds like I'm trying to convince you that I–”

 

“Let me guess, a beautiful long haired woman with silvery pink hair and a rapier, and a massive man with a black mane?”

 

Oh.

 

“Y-yes! Exactly! I just… yes! I can't believe it! I’m not crazy! I'm not clinically insane!”

 

He laughed, hands crossing behind his head again, as he leaned back against the plush cushioning. “Heh. That makes two of us, then.” They were probably both being too strange… but neither cared.

 

This was something phenomenal.

 


 

Before long, he found himself walking alongside her, hand in hand. Every groove of her skin, his skin filled out in turn.

 

They talked.

 

And talked.

 

And talked.

 

A thousand stories from two perspectives.

 

The same thousand stories.

 

“And then Juiz said–”

 

“She said ‘I win. That means you're on cooking duty.’ while she poked his head with it, right?”

 

Julia laughed the exact same way as her. And he reacted the same way as him. Before she could even think about it, he said what was on her mind.

 

“I think… they're our past lives or whatever. The invincible Vic-something somehow died… and Juiz must have passed too. Maybe centuries ago. And we're something like… similar. But not the same.” He sighed before adding… “Like reincarnations, or something.” ...hazarding a guess.

 

Julia took off her gloves, pale fingers delicately pulling from white cloth. The same pale digits caressed his knuckles, soothing pains he didn't know he had. Giving him feelings he didn't know he had.

 

“Well, even if we're different people than them, Vin… would like to be my friend all the same?”

 

The connection was undeniable.

 

“Y-yeah. I'd like to.”



Undead and Unjustice was the farthest info they'd be able to gather. And as hard as they pretended, they couldn't do anything like that.

 

Not in time to fight back against the golden creature that appeared before them, demanding Unjustice… one half of the equation.

 

But that doesn't mean they can't fight back. They'd even fight God himself, if it meant protecting what they found.

 

Even if the people in their dreams and their powers are dead, and yet to manifest.


















Notes:

i love them btw