by Marc Mulero
Another calamity dove from the sky, the last one, forcing itself through the winds to reach the storm’s eye. Crack! The ground shook violently from the blast, moving everything underneath as if he were on a rocky boat. The few around him still pushing to get up fell abruptly to their sides. Then Blague’s neck muscles tensed to lift his head. There, a metal-covered hand ripped through the red ore, grasping to escape. Out came Sabin from the depths of the crater with Mars at his side, soon after plodding through a sea of wilted bodies. Both limped on with abrasions of their own, coming to judge the Sin that had led them to this fate. His ripped clothing was darkened with blood, body curling over unexpectedly to let out a cough. Gore flew out before he wiped his mouth and straightened through a strained laugh, swatting away the substance churning to revive him along the way.
“Don’t look so serious, guys. It’s just a scratch,” Sabin jested, smiling with blood dripping from his teeth.
“Sabin!” Blague tried to yell, but the winds became more treacherous as though the two weren’t allowed to speak. “I’ve failed you, I’ve failed you all.” His head fell back.
The hunter wiped his mouth with a nearly paralyzed arm and took a knee beside his leader. “You’re being too hard on yourself. Let’s share the blame at least. We’ve all failed.” He trembled to remain upright. “C’mon though, you know why I’m here, you know why you’re here. All of this…” He motioned to the insanity surrounding them. “It’s not us… it’s not you.”
The tornado escalated to an uncontrollable speed, sending rounds of corpses and stones to cleave the fleeting commanders. The world as Blague knew it devolved into a mess of severed appendages and red fluid, crashing into him and clouding his vision.
“This is all of your doubt wrapped up in a neat little package,” Sabin shouted, getting back to his knee after being smacked by a stone. “Everything I’m feeling up there,” he said, pointing up as if this were hell, “is what you feel down here. I’ve always worn my heart on my sleeve, old friend. But you, you’ve always buried everything deep.”
Sabin’s voice disappeared into the storm, and just like that, everything became incoherent.
“This is the end.” Blague was sure of it.
His heart pounded through his chest, giving its last war song to end a very long journey. It was strange that no blissful memories came through to send him off. Nothing of his friends, his father, Elaina. No peaceful mountaintop or sandy beach. He tried to conjure a picture in his mind, but everything wiped away like another Cryos blast had struck him. And then it came.
A powerful light shined so brightly that it was blinding. He shut his eyes tight, but it did nothing to help. A golden aura was so intense that it felt like the sun had exploded in front of his face. A crashing sound left a ringing in his ears before it all became still.
Suddenly free of his ethereal shackles, he darted up, feeling weightless after being compressed for so long. Poking around blind for his dying friends, the floor was no longer stone-like. No bodies, no rubble, no meteorites. He opened his burning eyes to see everything had vanished, and then looked up.
He was choked by sorrow. Decades of regret, a million re-enactments. All of it fueled his rage. All of it led up to this exact moment, something so impossible that it could never be true. But it was. It wasn’t some imagining… it was her.
Elaina had descended from the heavens. Levitating like a goddess, she dispersed the roaring winds with a brush of her hand, cleared the thunderstruck sky by willing it so, and dimmed her light to gift Blague his sight once more. Long flowing hair, a petite frame, and the same undying spirit that he’d always remembered emerged from the depths of his being. After extinguishing whatever destruction had attempted to stand in her path, she extended a golden hand and smiled with determination and grace, happy to reunite with someone she once proudly stood beside.
“Get up, Blague. It’s not your turn to die,” Elaina’s voice resonated loudly, transcending two worlds. "Get up. You’re no longer alone."
Goosebumps rose over his body… a shiver like cold lightning down his spine. His temperature was rising rapidly… fire. Hot! Burning until he jolted awake in frenzy, springing to his feet, plowing through disorientation.
“Where am I?” He held his head as he came to. “The battle… I’m… still here.” His breathing was erratic, and for the first time since he’d attacked the Hiezer’s in Old New York, he was alive.
“This isn’t where we die,” her voice demanded, playing to the gravity of the situation.
Elaina, it’s been so long… Blague whispered back in thought.
Tears fell, but he blinked past them to remember where he was. A battlefield. Bodies, both enemy and ally, surrounded him at the entrance of the Dome.
“Look around you, love. They need your help.”
One look at the Templos Rogues attempting to hold ground in the distance said enough… they did need him. Bodies. So many of them fallen. Up, to his left, on the ascending cliff where Valor sped through to make his mark on the battle, his cloak was still flailing, Hiezers were falling. Good. He looked to the other side. No sign of Aslock though. To the right… I’ll meet with Valor on the bridge from the other end.
He dashed between the dead and avoided electricity flowing through the voltaic netting. Cryos marks everywhere, all of which were dim. These soldiers fell on my account. Mine! Then, as his rage built, it quickly dispersed like a popped water balloon. One mark still burned. Just one.
The woman lied on her back, heaving up blood.
“She’s important to you,” Elaina pushed her thoughts to the front of Blague’s mind. “I can feel the memories. Sometimes not every battle is won through fighting.”
Stopped in his tracks, Blague stayed frozen in place before his mind could register that it was Volaina lying helpless with an open core, bleeding out in front of him.
“Save her.”
He knelt and lifted her gently. A look of dismay washed across his face, knowing that there was no one on the premises that could aid her.
She’s fading, Elaina. There’s not much I can do for her now. So much blood.
“Blague,” Volaina whispered in pain. “It’s alright. I deserve this. It was an honor to fight beside you. For the Sins.” She weakly pounded her chest. “Te- tell Lesh that I know she’s not as harsh as she looks.”
A weak laugh caught them both before a bloody cough made it real again.
“This isn’t over. I’m a doctor, and I live within you. Take this gift, take it now.”
Blague gently placed Volaina back on the ground as a sudden pressure surged from the inside of his skull, like his brain was growing too large for its cage. His head lurched back and eyes rolled while Elaina did all that she could to alter the dire situation.
He finally jolted forward once his senses returned to him, gasping for air while trying to realize what had just happened.
I… I can fix her.
“You can now. I’ve shared all of me, with you,” Elaina declared. “Work quickly and listen to your guide.”
“A- and tell Sabin that I’m sorry,” Volaina grumbled.
“You can tell them yourself.” He ripped cloth from a nearby fallen Sin and a rubber glove from a fallen Volt Unit Rogue before scrambling to his feet. There has to be a medic around here somewhere. For every ten fighters there should be one. But where? He rustled through the belongings of the dead for supplies. Nothing yet.
“Clear bags with a light-yellow liquid. There should be rows of them within a medic’s belt,” Elaina’s words echoed.
A vision that Blague had never experienced played out in the front of his mind, a vision that inspired confidence in his next steps.
“Plasma is the only way. I… I have to replenish her blood before it’s too late,” Blague muttered to himself as he tossed remains from his path. After rummaging for nearly a minute, he finally spotted a medical supply kit under a dogpile of bodies. He slid to the floor and reached his hand between the lifel
ess medic’s vest, feeling for liquid-filled bags. A pair of linked intravenous sacks squished around in his hand as he gently dragged them out from under the crushing weight, taking special care not to burst Volaina’s last chance at survival. He got back to his feet and rustled over to the wounded Sin commander.
Shifting her body into position, Blague plucked open the medical kit and yanked a needle.
“Inject over here,” Elaina coached.
Blague spit the needle’s cover and lined up its point with a protruding jade-colored vein. Without thinking, he jabbed it into the intended lifeline and hooked the intravenous tube to both ends, interconnecting needle and pouch before resting the bag atop a nearby pile of fallen brethren. Once it began to drain, they were satisfied to move on to step two.
He turned and pulled a piece of the live netting, improvising like he’d done this a thousand times before. The wire wriggled in his rubber gloved grasp as he looked down on his spy. “This is going to hurt.”
He gritted his teeth as he touched the sparking wire to her wound and dragged it across quickly, burning a messy seal to temporarily stop the bleeding, and sending a high voltage shock coursing through her veins, leaving her twitching and unconscious.
“Her heart is still beating strong and the bleeding has been curtailed. Get her to a stable location and we have a chance of saving her. There’s no telling how intense the electrical current was. The rest is up to chance.”
“Brittle people have survived lightning strikes,” Blague said aloud, lifting Volaina into his arms. “This Sin commander has already seen hell. She’s too strong to die from this.”
“You heard her. She’s lost the will to live. She could let go at any moment.”
Blague charged forward without responding, heading toward the tunnel from whence they came.
Mulderan wanted us to come here. Separated and unprepared.
Chapter 21
Back to the bloodbath, the mansion, where smoke whipped around like it was alive and was wider than an army of ten thousand, it was an ethereal titan born under the earth. And there it was unleashed, judging with unforgiving shadowy eyes - or at least that’s what the Sins saw. An entity that could warp and meld to the fears of its attackers was now upon them.
It lashed with a million screams trailing it. Wide scooping snaps like from a whip to keep them back.
“What layer of hell have I been dragged to?” The Champion looked high into the sky. “Is this Hades, Biljin? Did Eldra fire her rifle upon me… and… is this what comes after?” she questioned before tabling her terror, trying to focus on what was in front of her. The Hiezers had betrayed their people, and her new allies were in danger.
“No, Melissa, we’re still very much alive. Feast your eyes on what happens outside of your pretty Tribunal.”
The weight of her armor and the metallic smell of blood wafting from beyond made her realize he was right. This wouldn’t be a normal battle like times before.
“Fine! If I have to march into hell to undo it all, then that’s what I’m going to do!”
Her bionic leg clicked as she accelerated into a full sprint. “Stay close, Biljin. I need you alive to explain all of this madness,” Melissa called, effortlessly unhooking the massive shield from her back.
Biljin huffed, head down, legs churning. It took everything for him to keep pace with this fierce soldier. And then, when he heard a roar, eyes lifted to see the Champion raising an armored fist – a signal – and then goosebumps followed from witnessing fluidity at its finest. Behind him, as graceful as a dance and as powerful as a herd of bulls – the Dactuar Crescent fanned out in methodical fashion. A well-oiled machine from the looks of it, one that was rushing into a storm.
Their timely arrival helped to even the tide, forcing the Aura to split into two groups at each other’s backs.
Silhouettes within the smolder were all visible. The first pack uncannily rushed to surround and protect their god, while the other moved to face the new threat.
When a few hundred rifles turned on Biljin, it dawned on him that his brain wasn’t so quick under duress. He was scared, out of his element, endangered of becoming extinct. All of his pompous confidence dripped away faster than he could think. All he could do was try to scout on for the heroes beside him.
“Asura is their head, and she’s making way to our base. You have to stop her!” he yelled.
All weapons lit up on Asura’s telepathic order, focusing on one target. She, too, knew how valuable it was to sever the head of the snake.
Melissa’s keen eyes fixated on the Aura’s shift just in time. She side-stepped, grabbed Biljin by the collar to pull him beside her, and slammed her large shield to the ground. In came the sideways rain. Clank clank clank – it sounded like hail against steel. Both huddled close, limbs lurching at the ping of bullets ricocheting too close. She then punched into the unique armament, activating it, expanding the safeguard to triple its size to fully enclose the two in its protection. Heavy fire continued to rattle off of the metal and demonic roars rumbled like the devil itself was pounding to get in, all while Biljin was having trouble digesting the chaos.
“Eugene’s girlfriend has betrayed us all,” Biljin announced.
“I guess you’ll fill me in on the drama later,” Melissa said during an interlude in the gunfight. “Stay directly behind me.”
She pressed a fist into her defender. Spiked metal wings that extended over and behind their bodies retracted instantly, and the shield constricted back into its condensed form.
“Unload!” Melissa shouted as she dashed forward, footsteps pounding against gravel and pebbles clattering against shin guards. The gap between rushing Dactuars and the Aura was closing quickly, soldiers rallying at her heel and beside Biljin, falling in line to charge alongside their Champion.
“Break their ranks!”
The smoke didn’t very much like the disruption, however. It loomed and mutated to appear like a horned nightmare staring down from above – god against mortals.
With a gritty roar, Melissa bashed the first two enemies in her path, knocking rifles out of place and their bodies tumbling backward. With a forceful step forward and both hands interlocked within the shield’s clasps, her next spin became that much more powerful. Another possessed soul was left bludgeoned and eradicated from the mind of the hive.
But mirroring soldiers quickly came to take the place of the fallen like programmed machines, guided by an invisible hand. They were closing in, faster, harder, but the Champion responded in kind - striking and blocking with the same weapon, a master of her own art. She cleared herself of a surrounding group just to be overwhelmed once again. Feeling the silent wind of possessed soldiers leaping high off the ground at her back, she angled her shield in front of her and knocked a fist into it twice, loosing the metallic-winged spikes to form behind her, impaling the crazed assailants before retracting.
Once the frontlines were all swallowed by the smoke, the Dactuar Crescent redirected their aim to avoid killing their own. No friendly fire, only cover. Rifles were positioned to the enemies’ outer defenses while centerstage devolved into guerrilla warfare tactics thanks to the hazy veil.
Biljin stood a few feet back, watching Melissa clear a path within the enemy’s position.
She didn’t retire because of her leg, that’s for sure.
His attention was then pulled away to the Crescent soldiers clashing with the Aura. It seemed all of the fight was one sided… the enemy side… they stopped firing.
Why are they backing up?
They crept away, some letting guns hang around their strap, dropping to all fours and inching away, others abruptly turned to run awkwardly.
No…
“Melissa, fall back!” Biljin shouted.
His words were drowned by a flood of crimson that engulfed the entangled warriors. The smoke became thicker, leaving only footwear visible. Biljin ducked to keep track, seeing one Crescent soldier drop to his knees, then another suffering th
e same fate. It wasn’t until through squinted eyes he discerned Melissa’s bionic leg still very much active.
I have to warn her...
Against Biljin’s usual prudency, he rushed into the warping smolder and immediately heard voices that weren’t his own.
It isn’t real. And it’s just temporary.
Just a few feet ahead, he watched the Champion finally succumb to the demons. She fell to one knee, dropping her shield and clawing at her head like something terrible was inside. He tried to reach for her – to warn her – “It isn’t real!” his voice was suddenly a jumbled mess of sound. Then the ground below vanished like it’d cracked completely in two. His stomach lurched, eyes toying with him, making him think that he was plummeting through broken earth.
But that’s when his confidence returned. Thinking through problems was his wheelhouse, his contribution to battle, and so he willed himself to be still.
“It’s just an illusion, Melissa, get up!” Biljin shouted.
“The wind… it’s too strong,” she replied weakly while being forced to the floor.
“Fight through it,” he called out on his struggle forward. His eyes rounded as a lone Aura member appeared from the thick of the haze like a vengeful ghoul with a knife set to impale the immobilized warrior.
“Above you!” he shouted again.
The Aura soldier descended at the same time a luminescent blue blade sliced through his torso like butter. Biljin backed up, frightened more by the disturbing figure emerging than he was of the smoke’s tricks.
Blague’s father, altered in appearance, was swathed in pitch-black cloths layered with chaotic symbols. A dark harbinger living in the fray. Only clouded eyes were exposed like some ghostly ninja, one that was hardly still enough to see. Without uttering a word, he grabbed Melissa and flung her from the smoke back into daylight.
Biljin shook his head and raised his hands, as if to say “I’m good,” before turning to find where she was tossed. “Damn it.” He inhaled what felt like dust, choking, coughing as he worked to push away the dense coatings of smolder.