by Marc Mulero
Milos was about to open his mouth, probably to make the situation worse, but Kentin put a hand on his shoulder and answered for the both of them. “Alright, Cherris, we promise.”
She considered either sincerity or sarcasm in his tone, narrowing her eyes until finally becoming satisfied with a nod to herself. “Okay you two. Stay here with Orin while I gather my first aid kit.”
Not him, they thought collectively before looking over at the vexing figure beside them. The boys appeared visibly uncomfortable, their faces grimacing.
“Gentlemen,” Orin greeted, keeping both arms interlocked between his cloths while rising to his feet.
“Hello, sir,” Kentin replied formally.
Milos had a hundred questions rushing through his mind that he'd been wanting to ask for weeks, but for some reason, he started with, “Did you name your son Blague, or is that his Sin name?”
“That would be my doing.” Orin looked curiously at the boy.
“Why?”
Orin tittered and inched closer. “Many people have asked me that over the years. The story is this: back when the world was whole, an artist offered me a painting to hang in my office. He claimed it to be his most prized work. I was skeptical at first, but my assistant assured me that this piece of art would leave a lasting impression. So, after some thought, I reluctantly allowed the strange man to enter the room.”
“You’re pretty strange yourself,” Milos brusquely interrupted.
Kentin nudged Milos, beckoning for him to show some respect, and Cherris put a fist over her mouth to mask a giggle while collecting items from her kit.
“That may be so,” Orin followed Milos’ eyes to his stained forearms, “but this man was even stranger!” he said playfully. “He walked into my office with a curly green afro and broken glasses, carrying a board that was about as large as he was. My skepticism grew while I judged the unkempt man standing in front of me. That was, until he flipped his board around to reveal the most beautiful piece of art I had ever seen. It was a painting of large raindrops overwhelming a colossal fire that nearly took over the entire canvas. The sun shined from a top corner to illustrate that the shower was overcoming the destructive flames. As I marveled over the glistening golden rain, the artist said to me, ‘This painting is a tragedy, drawn from the perspective of the devil, who wanted nothing more than for the world to burn. The piece is called the “Bright Plague…”’ and I believe you two can do the math from there.”
“That’s actually pretty cool,” Milos admitted.
Kentin quietly nodded in agreement while Cherris applied ointment to a lesion upon his head.
Then suddenly, the air changed. It was Orin – his storytelling unexpectedly fell short, body stiffened like a soldier hearing enemy footsteps. Eyes darted away, drawn to something that the others couldn’t possibly fathom, as though receiving a transmission on another frequency… from someplace dark, foreign. He fought to return to his audience, the lights of reality flickering on again for him, but just slightly. His immediacy was contagious. When he shook his arm to expand his compacted shield, everyone jumped back, and when he wriggled his arm free of it, they took another step.
“What’s going on?” Milos asked, one eye twitching as the shield was shoved into his and Kentin’s hands.
“Young warriors, listen to me. A time will come when you are called upon, but this is not that day. Hide behind this, it is a sturdy defender. Do you understand?”
Both boys exchanged wary looks and said “Yes” unquestioningly, grasping the large shield to haul it over to the wagon.
Cherris fumbled the supplies in a panic. Watching Orin’s sudden change in demeanor left her shaken.
“Keeper, get the children to safety and warn the civilians to take cover. Something is not quite right,” he declared before bolting for the door.
“What’s going on? Are we under attack?” she called, bustling after him in terror.
Sin fighters scurried to unlatch the front door for the mysterious man hastening toward them. Open wind lashed white hair and layers of cloth on his exit. The air was ominous, like the elements themselves were plotting against the Sins. Cloudy eyes scoured the land to find what called to him, and then his ancient blade scraped from its sheath as Orin made his way over to a paved pathway separating two of the mansions. The sound of children laughing and adults conversing proved to everyone else that nothing was wrong. Not yet at least.
“What is it?” Cherris yelled with worry in her frantic chase.
Orin unconsciously ignored her cries while rounding the corner of a stronghold to find hundreds of parents and their children enjoying the beautiful day.
“Everyone, take cover!” he boomed just before the sound of a jet became apparent in the distance.
Orin’s arms stretched out like an eagle’s wings. His Cryos tracked veins burning like tongues of blue flame. Then came the struggle… to harness it, control it, to wring his hands together to kiss around the hilt of his sword. His fingers were contorting with intensity, until finally, he did it, forcing a miniature cataclysm of conjured energy to erupt into ancient steel, imbuing the runic symbols to life in the same way Valor had enchanted his lance. This was different, though. Greater potency, more fury.
Now supercharged and ready, he looked up to see that the threat had arrived – an aircraft, spearing through the clouds with its nose, his worst nightmare pouring from it - the crimson smoke of Vicissitude. “No….”
Cherris covered her mouth with trembling hands, shocked that the carrier wasn’t showing any signs of slowing. Why? What would possess the Aura to come back in this fashion? What did she miss?
No time.
Every muscle in Orin’s body compelled him forward into a blur, blade whirling with alien sounds not of this world, leaving a trail of Cryos in its wake. It lingered like a frozen stream of long ribbon, distortive, transparent, and it was the only thing marking this man who would’ve disappeared otherwise.
A race to one side. Stop. Gravel and cement spraying everywhere. Again – dashing the other way. Stop. Once more. What was he doing?
A barrier for the Sins. An enclosure. Protection.
“It is not enough,” he bellowed, still shifting back and forth like a ricocheted bullet, enchanted steel whaling the whole way through as he flipped high into the air to create an arching cover.
Orin halted at the center point of his pulsating blockade and sheathed his blade. His work was done… now all that was left was to stand tall against these betrayers. A look of disgust was plastered onto his face, smoky eyes mirroring the jet closing in. Why would they wreak such havoc on innocents? What did they hope to gain? His distorted image and those trembling beside him reflected eerily past the fluid shield holding in place. Then the bullets came rattling toward the crowd. A collective gasp, short-lived cries and screeches of terror all sounded. But nothing reached them. They heard and saw the impact in Orin’s barrier, but suffered none of it. Everyone slowly unfurled from cowering to realize the impossible… they were safe. And better yet, high caliber lead recoiled off of the Cryos barrier and deflected right back to their origin.
Necks craned to follow the jet that caught fire from its own ammo. Waves of thumps smashed into jet casing, and soon after, the enflamed hunk of metal spiraled onward, eventually crashing down into the ocean.
Moments later, three additional Aura jets emerged from the clouds, all seemingly slowing their speed for landing.
Cherris gathered herself after letting the marveling image in front of her play out. She lifted her radio and broadcasted to the on-site commanders, “We’re under attack!”
A short time earlier, Sabin, Lito, and Eugene had decided to take over a lax patrol shift on the main mansion’s roof. Rebellion spirits were hopeful considering the day had been tremor-free thus far. Fear of the world’s ending was always in the back of their minds since the rumblings began, but that did something unexpected - in the wake of Armageddon came a renewed appreciation for life.
Lito tossed a pair of weathered binoculars to Sabin and slapped Eugene on the arm. “Looks like tu amor has returned from Auront.”
Eugene kneeled in resting position with his eye plastered to his scope.
“You can stop worrying now, mijo. Who knows, maybe you’ll crack a smile one of these days.”
Sabin let out an emphatic laugh. “This sulky piece of crap, right here? I wouldn’t hold your breath.”
Eugene rolled his eyes before saying, “I don’t know why you’re all smiles. I heard your first kiss didn’t go too well.” He took his eyes off of the scope to shoot Sabin a triumphant look.
“Que?” Lito poked his head between them excitedly. “What the heck did I miss here?”
“She kissed me back!” Sabin defended himself.
“Psh, not what I heard,” the sniper mocked.
Lito shoved Sabin playfully. “Ohhh noooo… you tried to kiss Lesh, didn’t you?” His smile stretched from ear to ear.
Sabin’s lips were tight and couldn’t curve inward any more than they were.
“What’s that face, huh? Embarrassment? You?” Out came the laughter.
And Sabin, holding back for as long as he could, eventually couldn’t help but join in. “She can kick pretty hard, amigo.”
Lito slapped the ledge, embellishing his roar, “Estúpido,” he could barely catch his breath, “you- you probably deserved it!”
Sabin shied away playfully, looking to Eugene for some help, but just received a smirk and a shake of his head back. “Oh gee, thanks.” He brought up his binoculars to eclipse his face. “I’ll just hide behin- uh… guys, something weird is going on.” Nerves suddenly plagued his voice.
“Nuh uh, don’t go changing the subject, I want details hermano. Ahora,” Lito continued to joke.
“I’m dead serious,” Sabin’s face dropped, frown deepening. “An Aura jet is coming in hot… and it looks like it might be on fire - wait a minute. It’s that smoke, the jet is pouring with it.”
“What? No…” Eugene said in disbelief.
And just like that, their easygoing patrol shift turned to terror.
Lito nearly choked, color leaving his face like it had been vacuumed from his neck. Legs suddenly became shaky. Why now? Hadn’t they been through enough? Panting, he raced to the other side of the roof to get a better view, tearing at his Mohawk, eyes bloodshot. “Why?” he shouted as the jet opened fire on the defenseless civilians below.
Lito doubled over like he’d been punched in the gut, gaze still forward. Then, slowly, he loosened the grip on his hair. Eyes narrowed to focus, to assure that he was seeing correctly. “What, is that?” Something bizarre – a shimmering, static wave of Cryos forcing the jet to be cleaved with its own arsenal. “A miracle, hermanos, a miracle.”
“We’re under attack!” Cherris’ terrified voice pierced through the commanders’ radios.
“Fighters!” Lito shouted through his device. “Exit the mansions and barricade all entrances. Protect the civilians and defend our home!”
Sin enemies had now landed, and out they marched from their jets – armed Aura members joined together by the red smoke. A sight as frightening as a Hiezer army. Their appearance was strange, even more so than when they bunked together as allies. Deep inhales of the smoke showed puffed chests, like they were ingesting some sort of drug. Then the exhale was even worse – smolder shooting from their noses like a thousand angered dragons ready to charge. It slithered between them, recycling itself, stiffening their movements, making them so robotic. Uniform, like a military parade. Why were they so eerily precise?
Stomp, stomp, boots clacked together. They fell in line, scattered equidistant apart and obediently awaited orders.
“They look possessed.” Sabin turned to Eugene. “What are you waiting for? They fired on us... take ‘em out!”
“This just doesn’t make any sense,” Eugene whispered to himself. “They saved us in Old New York and lived with us for months…”
“Logic later, fight now, amigo,” Lito insisted, studying the Aura’s positioning. “They have our mine map, so my planted explosives are useless.” He rushed over to rummage through a sack of demolition weapons, hoping to find a miracle.
Sabin switched his radio to the trade frequency. “Morn, take as many Sins as you can out through the back doors and into your fleet to get the hell out of here. We may not be able to keep these freaks out of the mansion. It’s no longer safe.”
“I saw the pricks land,” Morn replied through some static. “Always knew somethin’ was funny about ‘em’. I’ll get on it.”
Lito unlatched his device again and asked, “Oscin, are you on the floor?”
“I’m outdoors, boss. Orin just saved our asses,” he replied, slurring his words.
The ground level was a mess. Sin civilians scattering in fear, some arms flailing, others wrapped around children – all bodies barreling to get behind sturdy doors. Fighters attempted to form defensive ranks through the chaos, but found themselves having to lift their weapons whenever someone ran by.
Footsteps stomped again. The enemy army announcing their completed crescent formation… fully assembled and surrounding their source. Their god. And it truly felt like the Sins were fighting one, because together, the enemy appeared as a spreading wildfire with smoke rising higher the closer they gathered. Facial twitches here and there, some awkward ticks, just shaking out the kinks before the entire group rushed forward in perfect unison.
A shiver crawled up Lito’s spine at the sight. “What are they?”
Eugene’s rifle was rattling against the ledge from his hands that were no longer performing like a surgeon’s. It was her. He took a glimpse of their leader, invading from the center. He knew it was her fault in his mind – all of this. Everyone had been thinking it. But seeing Jen, scarred and vicious, sprinting on a sure path to slay the innocent, broke his heart once more.
“Not again,” he whispered to himself, turning away from his scope.
“Get a hold of yourself, Eugene. Take them out!” Sabin exclaimed, drawing his long-barreled pistol.
Asura halted at the midpoint of the formation and slung her arms into the air. The first two rows of combatants swiftly crouched and took aim, aligning themselves flawlessly in interlocked positions. She shut her eyes and clenched her fists, sending her army to symmetrically unfurl, marking herself as the puppeteer. Satisfaction relaxed her hardened face, and then with a sudden jolt, glowing red eyes sprung open to transmit her order. Soldiers roped their triggers and the crowd screamed.
The shield, Orin’s magnificent glowing protection flickered, chemicals sparking to withstand more gunfire and to fight against time – it was failing, dissipating into thin air like a dying flame. Then bodies began to drop. Sin fighters struggled to push past survivors, refusing to open fire on the enemy at the expense of risking their own. The scene was a peace riot of the Old World – civilian versus armed guard, only here, there was no peace – no human element in the Aura to give their soldiers a second guess. Just guiltless, brutal violence. But behind the desperate defenseless, there was an army of their own.
“Advance beyond the civilians!” Lito shouted through radio. “Open fire at any cost! You must, or we’ll be overrun!”
Sabin slowly moved away from the binoculars, not entirely sure he’d heard his comrade correctly. Did he just order to shoot… even though…? He looked again to Eugene for help, but the sniper remained catatonic. Useless. What was happening here?
“Guys…” Sabin wanted to protest.
Lito peered out from the roof with a heavy heart. He gulped, blinked hard to wish away every civilian he saw caught in the crossfire from his choice… again.
The last awful decision I made saved thousands in Bulchevin, at the cost of hundreds. The choice had to be made again, or we’ll break rank and fall to these traitors.
Aura combatants ducked and dashed forward in between formations. Fluid, rhythmic, like a snake.
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��I have to get down there,” Sabin decided, fed up with being stranded on the roof. He took out a String Blade and readied himself to leap over the ledge.
Laying a forceful hand on his chest, Lito tried to stop him. “Don’t! You’ll be killed instantly. The Aura knows who all of the commanders are and the value in taking one out.”
“I’m useless up here, Lito. There’s not much I can do with a pistol, and this shithead is getting cold feet, now of all times.”
“Because of Jen?” Lito asked the unflinching sniper.
Eugene stonewalled, offering no response.
Feeling disheartened, Lito turned to rummage through his sack of explosives and huffed in defeat. “I only have two rounds of this. Now seems like the time to use them,” he said, unloading a rocket launcher.
Sabin scaled back from the ledge, retreating from the heavy fire that turned toward the roof. “There’re too many of them. We were caught with our pants down and half of our forces are with Lesh…”
Lito rushed over, panting, not from being out of shape, but from desperation. Panic. He leveled his weapon at the smoky mass, still disbelieving that this was actually happening. So many dead sprawled out below him. He hesitated at the sight, but then found an inch of hope when his eye caught a lingering Cryos trail behind the blade of Blague’s father. Perhaps they weren’t done, yet.
Orin flew to the aid of the defenseless, swinging his enchanted sword to deflect bullets milliseconds before they could connect. He was taking the speed that Valor showcased and putting it to shame… and with it, with each save, he was brought closer to the swarm. Someone seemed to notice though, in the worst way, because when she did, all of the guns turned directly on him.
“A distraction… he needs a distraction…”
Lito slammed down the trigger at that moment to heat the launcher, igniting gunpowder, causing an action which had an equal reaction. Fumes spewed from both ends like two gas pipe leaks, followed by a howling screech. The rocket hissed as it propelled from its base. It roared the whole way, alerting Sins, Aura, god, everyone to the threat.