[Fight side-by-side with Cirno; the two of you shall be an impassible wall.]
[Switch between your weapons as needed; slower, but more versatile.]
You set the torch and diary on the ground—in different locations of course—thrusting the long knife into your belt and clutching the rifle-bow tightly. You’re prepared to do whatever it takes to keep Cirno alive this time. Bow, knife, pistol, you’re ready to use anything. You stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Cirno, her presence oddly comforting to you in this dark area. With this position you know exactly what’s coming for Cirno, and together the two of you should be able to stop anything that comes close. Your back is open, true, but hopefully these passageways don’t loop around each other too much. And if they do…well, at least one ally is better than none.
“All right, Mr. Stupid, you ready for this?” Cirno asks confidently.
“As ready as I’m going to be, which’ll never be ready enough unfortunately,” you reply.
She cracks her knuckles together and smiles. “That’s why I’m helpin’ ya, though! Right, so you shoot that thingy-thing at ‘em whenever you want, and that should slow ‘em down enough for me to freeze them solid! It’ll be easy!”
You nod nervously, lofting the rifle-bow into a ready position. The banshee-like yells grow louder and louder, grating on your nerves. How can Cirno be so confident about all this? She knows she might die for good at any time. What’s giving her so much courage now? Whatever it is, you hope she’s got some left over for you.
And then the onslaught begins. One of the rabid fairies comes into view of the firelight, snarling at either you or Cirno, you can’t tell. It’s form is completely naked, but you’ve no time to admire whether a mindless monster is well-endowed or not. Within a split second Cirno’s already filled it with icicles and frozen it solid, your loosed bolt piercing a hole into the now-chilled head. A second jumps past its deceased cousin, and Cirno deals with it the same way as you reload your weapon with a click-click from the slider. The frozen forms of your opponents block your view, so you’re taken by surprise as they burst to pieces at the hands of three more ravenous fairies, their movements a marvel to behold; how could they possibly move so quickly without tripping over each other? You pierce a bolt through the chest of one, Cirno does the same with a bolt of ice to another, and barely has time to manifest a small shield of ice before the third one jumps on her. Without thinking you let the rifle fall from your hands, draw your knife, and begin hacking at the creature’s throat. “Cut if off, it’ll regenerate if you don’t, cut it all off,” you think to yourself as the resistance of flesh on steel slowly falls away and the head of your adversary flops to the ground, the body fighting futilely for a few seconds more before falling limp.
The two fairies from before have jumped back into the fight, and you slash wildly with the knife at any face-type region you can find, holding them off briefly while Cirno does her part and freezes them into a state where they soon shatter to pieces at your knife. A wayward slash was landed on your arm, and blood now runs freely into your knife hand. You quickly switch back to the rifle-bow and reload once more while you have the time.
It’s madness. Your world becomes a sea of colors and shapes rather than actual, distinguishable things. Blue ice. Red blood. Grey bolts. Pale faces. Silver blades. Pink breasts. White snow. Brown rock. Black air. You fire the rifle into faces and chests indiscriminately, the inertia of the bolts buying Cirno the half-second she needs to turn a vampirized fairy into shards of frozen flesh. A creature worms behind you and rakes at your back, only to have it’s face caved in by the butt of your gun, followed by an arrow through the brain. Cirno throws globes of ice at your assailants to buy time like a bowling ball and ninepins. For every one you destroy, two take it’s place, your line being pushed back again and again simply from the sheer mounds of corpses choking the tunnel’s throat.
How long have you been fighting? One minute? Two? An hour? How many have you killed? Ten? Twenty? A hundred? How much of your blood has been shed? Half a liter? A whole liter? Counting and numbers mean nothing to you now. This world you’ve stumbled into has no methods, no logic, no right or wrong, and no truth but one: To live, you must kill. To live longer, you must kill more.
You feel a hand shaking you, and a voice calling out. You don’t hear the voice, and can only lash out at the hand with your knife. Must kill. Must kill all to save Cirno. Kill all to save yourself. Can’t stop. Can’t stop. Kill. Not stop ‘until all dead. All dead.
“Mr. Stupid! Snap out of it! We’re done, stop it! You’re hurting me, stop!”
You fall on the ground, your knife-hand a block of ice, still clutching the gore-splattered weapon. Cirno…you attacked Cirno! She’s covered with much less blood than you, but she currently curls her hand around a deep cut on her wrist. You…you did that. And you didn’t even know it. What…what just happened? How many did you kill? How much blood did you spill to save your own?
“Are you all right, Mr. Stupid?” Cirno asks you, stretching out her good hand to you non-frozen one. “You went kinda crazy back there. You were scaring me for a while, you know?”
You still can’t believe what just happened, though you find your lips saying something like, “Sorry; fighting for my life; makes you do crazy things.” Killing…murdering…was this murder? No, self-defense. You would have died unless you killed them. They were just monsters, monsters without brains, right? But…they, they were fairies once, though. Vampirized, tortured, probably experimented on brutally, but still fairies, like Cirno. Cirno definitely has a mind and soul…did they? You can’t think; can’t reason, can’t philosophize. You just want to sleep. Sleep, yes…sleep sounds nice. Your limbs shake as your right hand limply lets go of your knife and you lean against both Cirno and the wall at the same time. Your breathing becomes ragged and wavering, and you’re vaguely aware of something soft on your face; Cirno’s hand, maybe?
“Hello mister; hello Cirno.”
In the failing light of your torch you can barely make out Adam’s emotionless face in the darkness. Cirno immediately stands in between you and him.
“No! You don’t get to eat him! I’m his maid-person, I gots to protect him! Leave him alone!”
Adam shakes his head and points a metal-encased finger at her. “I didn’t come for him. I came for you
[ ] Put yourself between Cirno and Adam; he doesn’t get to eat her either!
[ ] You can make the shot from this distance; draw your pistol. Bang.
[ ] You can make the shot from this distance; lift the rifle. Thwip.
[ ] You can make the shot from this distance; pull your silver knife. Thunk.
[ ] Don’t just do something; stand there!
[ ] Don’t just stand there; do something! (Write-in what)
You have combined the plucky, optimistic Hiro Nakamura (easily my favorite Heroes character) with the plucky, optimistic Cirno (easily one of my favorite Touhou characters). Words cannot express how “d’awwww” I am feeling right now.