by Marc Mulero
Woosh.
Blague felt a wave of energy stream past his back, tickling both of his ears, but then he heard a scream from the far side.
“Aslock… he’s defending us...”
It was true. The energy was conjured from the hands of his Elder, who stayed on his adept’s trail to clear him a path.
A mistake, even if it was a necessary one.
The lengths Aslock took to see the mission through were too grand to be overlooked by the crimson god. Asura knew Blague shouldn’t have survived this long. It made no sense. Especially considering he had no ability to wield these chemicals when they’d last met. And so, her calculating mind deduced her conclusion from all of these new variables. She, in conjunction with the smoke, made her decision. With narrowed eyes and intense focus, she pinned down the cloaked phantom on the center of the isle two steps below hers. This one was sticking too close to the source.
That’s when she shifted her gaze and attention exactly where they wished she wouldn’t, to where a hundred Aura converged to their route.
Blague fought to slide the next clip into his gun as six Aura soldiers charged his location head-on. The bullets ricocheting off of his body caused him to fumble. These protective barriers weren’t limitless; they were beginning to wane. And when he slammed the clip in and raised his gun again, he noticed something… his enemies, they were running past him.
“Go and do not look back!” Aslock shouted, reigning in the core of his strength into his hands.
The Elder swung his fist, creating a Cryos reaction that knocked three enemies airborne in one motion. He then wound for another hook, but this time his swing was caught mid-motion, blocked by a crimson soldier.
Blague heard the grunt and was compelled to turn. “No,” he whispered… forcing himself to keep on.
More hands wrapped the Neraphis body and neck, constricting his airway. Aslock wrestled, struggled, until he was able to jerk an arm free and push it overhead, palm pressed against the soldier strangling the life from him.
Energy surged from his fingertips.
Wham.
A visible pulse hammered the man far backward. But amidst the chaos, one of the others clambering to take him down pulled the Elder’s cowl to reveal his face. The goddess’ suspicions were true.
Ignoring the pain, Aslock reoriented himself and jabbed an elbow into the soldier holding him in place. Panting and hopelessly overwhelmed, he flailed to shake off the parasites meaning to stop him. They operated like insects, incessant ones at that. Because every circle of enemies he cleared, a larger batch assembled to take their place.
It was haunting, like they were devoid of pain, only becoming immobile in death.
With the shred of time he had to act, he ducked to the floor and summoned the last of his power. Cryos bled from his core and rushed through the tracks on his limbs, illuminating his black cloak before exploding through his veins.
Another chemical crash.
The shockwave sent soldiers flying from Aslock’s radius, giving him a second of clarity to see Blague far ahead in the distance. “Just like we planned,” he said to himself before dashing from the dogpile and breaking free from the Aura’s collective embrace.
Far above, Asura immediately felt the pressure of Rol reacting to Aslock’s uncovering. The smoke had taken on a life of its own, filtering from her body rapidly, depleting her, all to converge unto the Neraphis that resisted it long ago.
Aslock knew that his appearance would stir the island’s interest. He knew it, and was now forced to watch his fears come to fruition. A conduit of smoke gathered to overwhelm him like a pack of lions assembling for their meal.
Time for fighting was over. The entire land was against him. He had to run.
With imbued fingers, he pried open a route, Cryos extensions working like claws yards beyond his physical body to force soldiers off their feet, to clear the way.
Darting past his downed enemies, he made for the isle’s edge to outrun Rol and take it far away from Blague.
Faster, faster, until he scraped to a stop at the cliff. He about-faced to see a spiral of smoke funneling to consume him, and without a second thought, backflipped off of the ledge. His cloak rippled in the wind on his descent, before slamming down onto an ethereal platform created by his legs; he’d taken a page out of Valor’s book.
The smoke swerved to chase him, but he leapt forward on his own track under the floating isle. His life force was draining, and he was starting to lose the race.
Blague was now far separated from the Neraphis collective, running out on his own without their protection. It was only he and the bond that carried him, fighting to reach his old right-hand Sin. An Aura soldier stepped in his way only to find a close-range bullet puncturing his shin. As the crimson man fell, Blague cracked the butt of the pistol against his neck to ensure his surrender. Few stray combatants remained in his vicinity. The army’s numbers had their hands full with the ancients tearing at them.
He lifted his eyes to the uppermost isle. The sight of Eugene taking aim created a strain in the pit of the Sin Leader’s stomach. His betrayal felt real, even if it wasn’t. The first bullet pelted off of his shoulder, causing him to wince.
“The pressure felt far stronger than earlier. Is it the strength of his weapon, or are we depleting?” he questioned.
“I’m starting to fade, Blague. The upkeep of Cryos is taxing. Hurry,” Elaina’s voice drained.
Blague acknowledged her words and crouched down to hasten his sprint. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t created a successful bridge before. It didn’t matter that spots speckled his vision, nor that his muscles began to seize. He had to dig deep. Elaina had to find strength. They had to get close enough to shake Eugene from his internal prison.
The cement ground was warm under the Sin Leader’s footgear and the surrounding space was a mess of swirling gray clouds entwined with crimson smoke. The air was thick, weighing down the trespasser to slow his movement as if he were wearing a lead vest. But every few steps, Blague found a slice of clear sky where flickering glimpses of the gods standing atop their isle could be seen. His goal was near, which kept him moving.
Jason peeked back at the Sin Leader through each opening, unleashing a lethal round of sniper fire at every chance. Elaina’s embrace continued to fend off the attacks with her waning strength, so Blague could finally break past the smolder and into open air. The edge of the isle was visible after a mile of cleared ground. He ran harder, faster, ignoring the doubt as to whether he could materialize a bridge to reach the third step. And when he broke past the copious film, he leapt over the side and into the nothingness that would make even the most fearless warriors cower. Blague’s Sin mark burst into action and created ground where there shouldn’t have been. He hesitantly straightened, quivering to hold the substance in place while he trekked upward. Seeing a shell of Eugene reloading to fire at him instead of with him struck again at his heart, fueling him to push on.
Another step upward caused a slab of Cryos to materialize, catching his foot. As Jason watched on from within Eugene’s body, he dropped the reloaded gun into position and aligned his eye with its scope, readying to unleash everything to make the persistent man fall. Fire ignited from the tip of the long rifle, propelling the pointed cylinder on a path to Blague’s chest. When it connected, it ricocheted off to the side, but not without jolting Blague backward. He felt the pain of a deep welt form immediately. Thinking he may have been shot, he knelt.
“My hold is dwindling, Blague. We have to retreat,” Elaina warned.
The blue Cryos protecting Blague’s body detached from its source, scratching to stay together in a losing battle. The substance trickled away from his chest and melted into nothingness. He twisted his back to face the gods before closing his eyes to retreat deep into thought.
“Not like this, Elaina. We’ve come too far to fall now. Search yourself, muster more strength.”
“I’m sorry, love,” her voice lowered
against her will.
Bullets crashed against his back, his body shuddering each time, ripples of metal raindrops forming where Cryos had clung in Elaina’s final efforts. Withstand it, he pleaded internally, don’t die. Not like this. The pain was penetrating deeper: welts, craters, but still no blood. His armor was fading by the second, it was dying. He was dying.
Bang.
His head jerked back as the impact of a sniper shell vibrated his skull like a struck gong. Down to the floor, arms shaking to hold himself up on his dissipating Cryos bridge. It was all too much.
Concentrate, he thought, looking down the slope to where his bridge began, to the Aura members in the distance turning on Asura’s command.
“One bullet from them and we’re finished,” he said in a scratched voice.
He struggled to his feet just to be knocked down again by shots fired into his back. His hands slipped from under him, touching ground that was more mist than solid. Despite all of his efforts, all of his hopes, despite all of his training, he lost it. The connection was severed. And so he fell.
Blague could almost hear Jason’s laugh through Eugene’s voice. Horrifying and terrible. Listening to his closest friend, his right-hand cheer for his death was as bad as it could get.
Jason raised his gun to lay over his shoulder in triumph, watching with a wicked smile as the conjured bridge dissolved from under the Sin Leader. The battle was over. Without Blague at the wheel, the Sins would probably lose their drive, the Neraphis would fly back to their Citadel in solitude, and the war would be lost.
Jason’s eyes were glued on his enemy’s descent, relishing in it, enjoying this great victory with utmost satisfaction. But unrest suddenly befell him. His attention darted from Blague’s falling body to another airborne entity.
“No…” Jason mouthed.
Aslock emerged from under the isle before he darted through the warm air to bring forth his mastery, touching each step of his own manifestation to outrun the smoke. With a dive, Aslock extended his connection to rebuild Blague’s bridge and re-adjoin the isles, catching the Sin Leader on his way into the depths.
Asura was lost in concentration. She had been chasing after the Neraphis in her mind at Rol’s directive, determined to stop him in his tracks.
“Get up, Blague. There will not be another chance!” Aslock shouted as he rolled over his next conjured platform and passed under the bridge. With the smoke now just yards away from consuming him, he stopped in mid-air, recognizing that his time to flee was at an end. A deep breath replenished his lungs, and with it, summoned strength that emitted the most vibrant azure glow Blague had ever seen. The Elder’s body struggled to harness it, like it was a bottle encasing an entire lightning storm. In his time of quivering angst, he stared at his adept.
“Elaina,” his voice carried. “You are an Ardian… find your strength.”
Aslock swung his arms into an X, unleashing two waves of Cryos into the air. The substance soared, gaining size as it traveled like two sickle-shaped avalanches. Its edges seared the cement ground before crashing into the Aura soldiers taking aim at Blague, passing through them to instantly paralyze on impact. It was a final gift, giving Blague the opportunity he needed to recover.
While they struggled below, Asura observed from her high vantage point, a chess player among pawns. Her move, now.
She clapped her hands together, fingers interlaced, doling out an order from afar. A terrible one - a motion directing the smoke that had been trailing Aslock to collapse unto him. Rol screeched and roared like a beast let off its leash, becoming angry in its breadth, consuming the Neraphis from every angle. Overwhelming and overcoming, it was a force too powerful for him to evade.
Blague’s heart dropped into his stomach. Exhaustion that locked his joints pulled twice as hard upon seeing his friend and mentor disappear within a rumbling cloud. How could this be the end? How could guilt be the last thing he felt? He’d dragged Aslock into this war only for him to be expended. The wizard, the philosopher, the redeemer of his soul. He was speechless and ashamed. Distraught and broken. Eyes were wide as he watched the strangling ball of smoke descend from sight.
And then rage kicked in. It bubbled through his body, forcing him to his feet and compelling him to flex in anger, igniting the Sin back to life. A flashbang of blue replaced his mentor’s fading Cryos bridge with his own. It was an explosion of energy he hadn’t known existed within him. This is what Aslock was talking about. Ardian strength.
And with that followed a roar of fury reverberating for his dead comrades as he ascended to the shortest isle, charging through Eugene’s bullets on a clear path to catharsis. He had to reach the edge and disrupt the gods’ connection. He had to plead with the man buried deep within a prison of skin and bone. He had to stand and face Asura, no matter the cost. If the Sins were to survive in this world, the Aura had to be eradicated from it.
“Aslock is gone. Who will strike even if we do succeed?” Elaina asked, concentrating to protect their body.
“It will have to be us. There’s no turning back now,” Blague grumbled aloud.
Asura’s attention was forced back to her vessel. Eyes rolled to face forward and a smirk followed. Blague was now only fifty feet away, one floating step apart from those who betrayed him. He was the Aura’s last real threat… and this was the perfect opportunity to test their ace in the hole. She began to conjure Rol just as she had near the geyser in secret. The smoke transformed into an electrifying plasma, becoming dangerously weaponized within seconds.
“Eugene!” Blague shouted. “Don’t lie dormant, don’t let this scum take you over. I’ve seen you come back from worse!”
The cyclone of plasma grew rapidly, sparking as Asura manifested its power.
Jason’s face was twisted with rage, the lines drawn making Eugene appear old beyond his years. “Your friend is dead!” he yelled back. “But don’t worry, you will meet him soon.” He reloaded the sniper rifle once more.
“We can’t defend against that.” Elaina watched Asura through Blague’s eyes.
The Sin Leader stood his ground. “Eugene! Don’t let this be our end,” he said, resting his faith in a desperate cause.
Asura stomped the ground and shouted with the thunder of ten voices at once. “It’s over!”
Chapter 16
Valor paced around the assassin, dragging the butt of his spear across the stone ground. “Your stubbornness confines us both here, while our brethren fight our battles for us. Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?” he taunted, annoyed that he couldn’t join Aslock in his travels to Auront.
Lesh scoffed at the man charged with training a master death-dealer. What a waste… did he actually think words of guilt would have any effect on her Sin mark?
Well they didn’t, not now nor hours ago when he tried the same tactic. Her blue brand remained a dull, dormant ember when it needed to breathe the fire of a dragon.
“This can’t be the first time you’ve let them down.” Valor shook his head. “No way, I don’t buy it.”
Lesh fought hard not to turn her throwing knife away from her target and unto him, but she digressed, and then dipped her head.
It seemed he actually was able to trigger something – a feeling of being paralyzed – the only time in her life when this happened: that critical instance when her parents were murdered before her eyes. She remembered that. The day her instincts had betrayed her, forced her still as if bound by tightly wrapped chains.
Chase, you cowardly prick, she recalled, stirring something very real within her.
It didn’t matter that she’d already sent a knife through his skull, nor that she’d killed hundreds in her parents’ name. It was her shortcomings that came as the starkest reminder. Failure. That’s what this was, right here, right now. She was failing again. It angered her. Infuriated her.
There it went – lighter shades of blue bolstering from her arm, more vibrant ones. Fire. Her mark was on fire!
“Oh look, you
’re a little shining star again. How adorable,” Valor mocked.
Her dead eyes spoke volumes. She slowly slid two knives from the bottom of her ring, turned away from Valor, and once again aimed at a target that was a hundred and fifty feet away - one that had proven to be too far, even for her.
“Request that the Society considers you for the Ayelan shot. Meet a potential donor, befriend them, grow a connection to become a Derasdian. Or better yet, become a donor yourself,” he smirked. “Only then can we stop wasting energy on a useless cause. Without duality, this is hopeless.” Valor sounded sick of repeating himself, and being constantly validated by Lesh’s failure.
“Have someone like you trapped in my head? That would be a nightmare for both of us. And become a donor? You mean sacrifice my life so I can wander around this shit hole for a few hundred years? I’d sooner gouge my own eyes out. Fuck off.”
The Neraphis laughed, his frustration briefly vanishing in the enjoyment of Lesh’s bluntness. But then he resumed his pace behind the assassin and switched off his amusement like he’d changed masks. Shoulders pinched behind his back as he leaned in to be sure his words were heard. His face was that of a falcon’s, sharp and preying.
“We’ve been here for quite some time. You have no Ayelan, no support system, and on top of it all, you’re as closed off as this Citadel.” He halted his step to watch as she readied her throw for the thousandth time. “My brother is my strength that transcends the ordinary. What do you have?”
He observed Lesh like she was some sort of specimen, eyeing her vitals, her breathing, all of the factors that the Neraphis were trained to look out for, to unearth signs of connection with the substance. With Cryos.
“I’ve found your trigger,” he muttered. “I know what makes you tick.”
Valor quietly drew in his breath in anticipation as her brand radiated past its outline, against what history had shown him.
These clowns think staring at each other for hundreds of years will bring about answers. What a waste. What a bunch of cowards. Orin was right to leave them.