by Marc Mulero
It, along with every object around him, was everywhere at once.
Then a loud bang overwhelmed his senses.
It felt like Orin had stomped an earth-crushing blow to the floor, knocking the tornado of red off of its imperious glide and slowing time back to a state of comprehension.
Blague’s arms were extended in an attempt to maintain balance, all while he listened to his father’s voice preaching from another dimension.
“The gifts deep within the earth were never meant to be discovered, just as atoms were never meant to be split. But alas, humanity is curious, and here we are. Cryos, Ayelan, Jael, and Rol, these are the substances that balance the lives within this world. They are, and have always been beyond our comprehension, which is why we have to protect them. If Ayelan and Cryos are the advocators of humanity, Rol and Jael would be its destroyers. Because of this, there has to be guardians. And we have taken up the task. We are the protectors of this smoke. We will keep it from plaguing humanity, with your help.”
“We?” Elaina’s distressed voice spoke in Blague’s mind. “Does he mean your mother? Or…”
In that instant his thoughts stilled, and with the help of his love, his body followed.
“Get up, Blague,” a new voice sounded from directly in front of him.
Blague opened his eyes to see a dark figure flicker within the cloud of red racing to regain speed around him. The storm of vapor finally slowed when the figure stepped forward, moving past the scarlet blanket that shadowed him. Eugene appeared as a mix of flesh and haze. He was back in his old clothes, resembling his old self before Jason’s takeover.
“Your father taught me how to exist after death. He drew in my essence before I scattered into the vastness of the universe,” Eugene explained. “I willed my consciousness toward these molecules and clung to them, like your father has. If not for him, I would have wasted away into nothingness. But we have a duty here, to guard the smoke from expanding again. Together, we will defeat your brother and free the people from this hell.” His gray eyes glinted with purpose.
Blague couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He watched his right-hand commander sacrifice himself to end the threat of the Aura, and now, here he was again, more noble than ever before. But at this point, Blague realized that Eugene wasn’t a commander under his watch. Instead, he was an old man’s best friend, transcending the test of time and closing the gap between the two of them to form a bond that left him speechless.
“Eu,” was the only thing the Sin Leader could mutter while he returned to sure footing.
The sniper extended a wraithlike hand unto Blague’s shoulder, something that was usually offered in reverse. “I never got to thank you… for bringing me back when I was lost.”
Blague shook his head, dismissing his acts as a friend and leader.
“And accepting me back when I faltered,” Eugene continued.
“It was an honor, Eu.” He straightened, his eyes bloodshot from emotion.
Eugene’s arm fully materialized as though he were reaching out from another dimension. Then came the rest of his body, a tornado of smoke dissipating around him to make him real again, if not just for a moment.
He was there now. Actually there. But this was no time to marvel. His expression shifted from compassion to sternness to carry home his message. No more sighs left in his being.
“I’ve seen the cosmos Blague. I’ve seen everything that I didn’t know existed. And I now know that there will be no peace for humanity in this world of smoke. You’ll have to take my word for it. Go, Blague. It’s time we get rid of it once and for all.”
The Sin sniper dissolved along with the tornado of vapor, leaving only a weak trail of crimson winding toward the source.
“Orin and Eugene exist as I do now, as consciousness without form,” Elaina whispered. “These aren’t tricks. It’s really them, Blague, I know it.”
His arm lingered, grasping for the empty space where Eugene had appeared. “It was him, wasn’t it?” His widened eyes were untrustworthy now as to how they were taking in the world. His right hand was dead, but had just spoken to him in the truest of visions. What had he just witnessed? It was real, just as real as his muscles were tight with trauma from enduring a fake event. The encounter with the false ball of fire took a very serious toll on the Sin Leader, washing his hair with age and coating it with a hue that could only be found on the whitest of pearls.
Color flushed back into Blague’s face as shades of black and gold gradually returned to his vision, showing reality as how he understood it.
Finally, he thought, looking down to see Cryos overcome crimson. The poison is being drained.
Composure was returning… memory of who he was, who he was supposed to be. Blague, the tactical war hero, age trapped within a youthful shell.
Something was off though. The strands of hair within his vision were no longer black, but rather white, reflecting his experience for the first time.
Although his features were harsher, he began to resemble what he was - his father’s son.
“Come, my love. Our destiny awaits,” Elaina pushed.
Blague followed the string of haze, trailing its every turn and picking up speed on each straightaway. A line of soldiers ran down the next street, changing posts to find their way to the Gates of Eternity, en route to cross Blague on their march. The path of smolder widened on cue, masking his existence from their field of vision.
“This way, my son,” Orin’s voice sounded around him, forcing his legs to travel faster.
Curved scythes adorning the top of each fortress glimmered gold, reflecting a multihued luminescence on his every turn. The shine dimmed as he covered more ground. A wretched gloom crept closer to overthrow the light, working to overpower the once golden city. Mulderan’s spire was now in sight, harboring Rol’s might through its worst host.
“All life is precious, seen and unseen. Lead the people away from darkness, Blague. Become the symbol of your name,” Orin inspired.
Blague could have sworn that the gray cloths that once swirled around his father passed into the smoky trail, just for an instant. He rushed toward the massive entranceway into Mulderan’s lair, watching the security panels slide open to greet him.
“Time runs thin,” Orin warned.
Blague ran through the maze that was his brother’s abode, sliding to a stop at every corner, then sprinting again, following the path down into carefully carved pits. The doors eerily slid open as if this was supposed to happen, or maybe it was somehow his father’s essence doing this. He had no idea, nor the time to even consider it.
Finally, Blague stopped at the finish line of smoke – the ruler’s den – a long stretching bridge standing over an endless fall into the center of the earth.
“What… is this?” he mouthed, passing his gaze by overlapping rocks that looked like scales of a dragon tracing upward, then down to the faint orange glow. “What have you done?” A strange humidity suddenly smacked him in the face. And when he was settled, there was nowhere else to look but forward, to evil in its rawest form. Mulderan.
The stolen geyser was carefully installed underfoot, recycling Rol round and round within him. His jet-black hair flew from the intensity, and his eyes were rolled back in a metaphysical concentration.
“I see it now, brother. I see how you managed to come this far and take so much from me. My wife, Eldra, she betrayed the elite,” Mulderan said, puffing his slim chest outward. “It’s no matter, though. You’re too late.”
“Concentrate,” Elaina spoke. “We will need the greatest amount of Cryos to withstand this power.”
Mulderan’s eyes rolled down to peer upon his brother. “Age is catching up with you. Perhaps I was wrong again, to think that you could withstand immortality.”
Blague clenched his jaw. “Mortality is what makes this life worth living. And your arrogance has left you with no one.”
The Highest Lord laughed, his voice multiplying around the humid sett
ing. “Well then, you must tell that to the herd of inferiors that you lined up for me. I wonder what beauty they will know when they are stuck on their backs.”
Chapter 22
Eyes blazed under an obscuring hood. Gloved hands crossed behind a fluid cloak. There the Eldest stood, at the back of a crowd more profound than he’d ever experienced. And all of that attention was about to be turned unto him.
From fiery citizens of Bulchevin to the affluent professionals of the Dactuars, a hundred thousand people protesting the Grand City of Nepsys began to quiet, to turn, beckoning the Hiezer rifles atop spires to shift as well.
All eyes were now on the dark specter unveiled by the light.
Halewyn was about to make his entrance.
Unhurried in his pace, the Neraphis demanded the respect of centuries lived. His broadsword of blackened, ornate metal rested on his back, speaking to a time far before anyone there had been born. Each step left a cloud of blue dust on the uneven ground, more sorcery unbeknownst to the masses. This ancient reclusive man abandoned his quiet kingdom to step into the outside world, to this. In honor of his greatest student – Orin the Redeemer - he came to deliver Blague’s message.
Dendrid was that message. The mad killer grunted with every forced step as he was dragged over and over to Halewyn’s heel in protest. The sight was desperate. Ethereal Cryos shackles pulled him forward when he resisted, and back when he attacked.
His nemesis, the “shadow,” bore him as a prisoner just inches from his grasp, creating a lust for blood that had never been so strong. He was right there, the man responsible for his family tragedy, for the madness, all of it… right in front of his face.
He reached with the ferocity of a wolverine, meant to strangle his prey. Weeks of failure could not dull his will. But the restraints burned bright, searing his wrists and becoming immeasurable in weight. There was nothing the Mentis could do. His family was driven mad by the methods of the Neraphis - the shadows. And now, as the last of his line, he was nothing but a hostage meant for a show. Vengeance was not in his cards.
The crowd parted down its center, making way for the mysterious Ludian to pass.
Halewyn turned his head to address a citizen. “Demand a Hiezer scientist be present atop the gates. Ensure that they have an enhanced thermal cycler ready for live testing.”
The citizen paused, memorizing the message before sprinting ahead.
Halewyn resumed his pace, looking up at the grandness of the city. Scout retrievals had presented the view many times before, but it was different to gaze upon it in the real. People shifted and whispers commenced. He heard his request broadcasted over a loud speaker and watched the Hiezers adhere.
Once at the peak of the crowd, he pushed back his hood to reveal his face.
He peered up to address the Hiezers atop the gates, his voice carrying far and loud. “I am Halewyn, Eldest of the Neraphis Society. I come before all of you with assurance that your methods of extraction dawn your extinction.”
He then held up a large syringe, showcasing it for all to see. “No trickery here,” his actions said, before he spun his Cryos inflicted prisoner with the flick of his wrist.
Dendrid’s arms trembled in frustration. The whole world was to bear witness to this live spectacle, like he was livestock being experimented on. “Grah,” he grunted as the needle point broke skin. “What are you doing to me?” he muttered through gritted teeth.
“Extracting a sample of what lurks in your spine. Quiet.”
The audience was quiet, waiting for something to happen, but Halewyn just removed the syringe, separated the vial very matter-of-factly and stepped closer to the gates, while holding up the swishing liquid for all to see.
Again, no tricks.
The container was placed on a shelf before it was vacuumed to the top of the gates for the Hiezer scientist to analyze.
“You know this man as Dendrid, the deranged prisoner of use and most deadly weapon of the Hiezers. He is the son of Elinor Elsan, who was a Neraphis that volunteered for Ayelan experimentation using the methods that the Hiezers employ. She merged with an unwilling subject. An enemy. Now, her son suffers what you see.”
Dendrid looked up at his foe, hearing the words again, but this time having the resolve to listen. “Volunteered?” he whispered.
The scientist’s eyes were wide with unrest. He stared into the thermal cycler as the DNA was tested, but already knew that something was amiss. Whoever that strange man was below, he was right. “My god, what is th-” he was suddenly startled to see Veer making his way closer to the ledge of the gates.
The highlord approached hesitantly, for he could sense the unrest within the geneticist, and this was an issue that hit very close to home.
The Hiezer looked up to his highlord in silence.
“What do you see?” Halewyn shouted, demanding him to say it.
“Chaos…” the geneticist whispered softly to Veer. “I’ve never seen anything like i-”
“Get a hold of yourself,” Veer said sternly, his voice a shaky mess. “What is it? Please.”
“The DNA… it,” he coughed, knowing Veer’s situation with his son.
“What is it?!”
“The DNA encased in Ayelan is branching out and fighting to take over the natural DNA. My lord, he’s saying that offspring are prone to this hostile demise. There’s no telling the damage this can cause if the rates of contraction are over fifty percent…”
Veer gasped and gulped; his hands visibly trembling. “My son,” he looked to the geneticist, but saw right through him, thinking only of the life his kin could be destined for, something he’d been worried about since the beginning. His son was everything to him. Everything. And to have to watch him descend into madness. It trampled his soul.
“My lord, I’m sorry.”
“The world awaits,” Halewyn declared with eyes aglow.
Veer pressed two fingers into his gold-plated chest, activating an amplifier. “Are you suggesting that my son is poisoned from my Ayelan shot?”
Halewyn raised his chin and said, “Fellow Exdian, marrier of enemies, I am asserting that all recipients will suffer the fate of karma through their kin.”
Eldra’s boots clacked against the opulent streets of Nepsys with every step. She called for attention even when she didn’t want it. It was her appearance of course: a glossy shine covering all of her wartime scuffs, her arm bent into a lax L over her sword’s hilt. She screamed war when everyone else whispered science.
There, over in the top floor rooms, behind reinforced glass, she could see scientists gawking, all hiding and waiting for the rebellious siege to be undone.
And her marching the streets meant the Hiezers were still in order, right? Regality and vigor bled through her demeanor, evoking fear… always fear, to spike in her favor. Leading armadas to victory whilst barely out of her teens earned her reputation, and swift justice against her own sealed it. She used that leverage now, to walk in plain sight and march against them.
“You were of the most slippery of Sin commanders. We didn’t even know you existed until Melissa turned her shield,” Eldra said, maintaining her deadly swagger around Hiezer eyes.
She and Biljin made way toward the high spires, moving without a hint of unease. They walked through the desolate streets, silently taking note of their path, their surroundings.
“Forgive me, oh deadly queen, but I did not follow you to receive backhanded compliments,” Biljin cut to the point.
A curve formed at the end of Eldra’s mouth. “You will remember your place within these walls.” She motioned to the eyes plastered on them from resident windows. “Keep straight and stay one pace behind me. You cannot appear as an equal.”
Biljin laughed as he slowed his stride. “We are far from equals, cold savage.”
She scoffed under her breath. “I see why Blague kept you on a long leash. My patience with you around would have faded quickly.”
He dropped back to flank the Hie
zer traitor as instructed, trailing her turn into a shadowed alley. Eldra sighed once out of the limelight, still unfamiliar with the art of deception.
“My regrets are sudden and deep, Biljin. To be on the wrong side of a war in such a high position, reflects a lifetime of failure,” she confessed.
The genius fell silent, taken aback by such an odd declaration.
How could I have been so thoughtless... I dismissed the possibility of sabotage because the traitor had no reason to lie.
The sun ignited their shadows once again as they found the road to the next widened street.
Biljin’s eyes shifted, breath shaking. His fight or flight response was starting to kick in. He could feel it… the wave of panic washing over him so often in these past months. Why did his body betray him, make him think that his heart had sunk into his stomach? He couldn’t stand it.
“Y-yes, I’ve toiled with morality,” he tried to stay strong. “Touring through your artificial ranks, you know, the ones that you get to step over. Somewhere along the way, as I broke out of those pits, I started to question whether I, myself was a terrorist. More than once too.” He laughed weakly, “You make your largest strides once you find certainty, though.”
“Hmph. Alluding to my tips to your rebellion? Are those my largest strides?” she questioned, keeping her eye straight ahead.
Eldra noted the sudden shake of his voice, being no stranger to people wilting in her presence. Biljin recognized a change in her step, too, making both of them keen to one another’s shifts.
“Don’t play humble. You’ve invested your exposed neck into our fight, gifting us successful ambushes on every turn. Until we met the betrayer, until we saw that it was you, I thought there could be no motive to lie. But now, seeing that it was Mulderan’s wife who led us here, it’s clear that it is our neck that is exposed. You guided us right into the mouth of the hungry Hiezer regime. You’d rather feign confession of your sins while you count the seconds until you eradicate the world’s voice with one drop of your sword.”