Far above the forest of Elysian Fields, the man called Skipper floated. Huge emerald wings hung behind him, like glass sculptures, but they did not flap or flutter to keep him aloft. No, it was the deafening sound blasting from his feet that kept him steady in the air.

Atoy Muzazi could barely hear it through the haze of pain.

He had been defeated. He understood that as soon as he regained consciousness. The attacks Zachariah Esmeralda had unleashed had been far beyond anything Muzazi could have imagined. The first Heartbeat Shotgun alone had been enough to end the fight.

"You see?" Esmeralda said, not unsympathetically, holding Muzazi up by his ravaged collar. "Told ya it was a bad idea, my guy."

Muzazi wheezed, blood trickling from his mouth. He wasn't sure of the exact nature of his injuries, but he knew they were severe. He couldn't see out of his left eye, and that entire side of his face pulsed with agony as the breeze drifted past it.

The arm on that side was twisted the wrong way around, as well. He must have tried to dodge and barely been caught by the blast. He couldn't quite remember.

Don't show him your back.

"Be… silent…" Muzazi pushed through the pain, slowly lifting his good arm. If he could just ignite a Radiant, he could still land an attack. From this distance, Esmeralda couldn't dodge. It was his best chance.

If nothing else, he could make his enemy bleed.

But it had been a naive hope from the beginning. Esmeralda's eyes flicked to look at the arm, trembling as Muzazi slowly raised it, and he sighed.

"You don't know when to give up, huh?" he said. "Well… I can sympathize. But I've got places to be."

There, floating high in the air, Esmeralda negated Muzazi's attack with a move that was so simple it was almost insulting.

He let go.

Atoy Muzazi plummeted down, limbs flapping uselessly through the air, his vision fading in and out.

Morgan, Aclima… he thought. Marie… I'm sorry… I wasn't strong enough.

His eyes began to close -- before a final burst of will rang out through his mind, clearing the fog for just a moment.

He wasn't defeated until he was dead. So long as he hadn't lost, he could still win. From this height, the fall would be fatal. He couldn't afford to fall unconscious.

Silver Aether crackled around him, more furiously than before, and a last-second thruster on his torso slowed his descent enough that his collision with the ground wasn't lethal -- just painful. He landed on his ravaged arm, and the sharp intake of breath that resulted was enough to send him into a coughing fit.

In the sky above, Esmeralda flew out of sight with a sound like a cannon going off. Immediately, Muzazi knew the man had left. He wouldn't take the effort to finish Muzazi off. After all…

…he wasn't worth that time.

Get up, he urged himself. You can't stay here. You need medical assistance.

Yes. Medical assistance. Right now, that was his goal. Find a doctor, or a healer, or something. It was vague, but it was something to hold onto. A grip to keep himself from losing consciousness.

Muzazi wiped his mouth as clean of blood as he could -- noting that his hand came away more red than he'd anticipated -- and tried to rise to his feet. His legs trembled beneath him, and it took a couple of attempts, but in the end he was able to prop himself up against a tree.

A medic. Where would he find a medic? Someone with healing abilities wouldn't be on the front lines, surely. They'd remain near the back to treat the wounded. Or would they? This wasn't a normal army, after all. There was little coordination. There was no guarantee that a healer would be in a strategically sound position.

Aether ping. He could do that. No, he couldn't. The fog would prevent it. Awkwardly, he put his good hand to his ear, only to find that the communicator there had been shattered. He couldn't call for rescue, either.

Atoy Muzazi was just considering what an awful situation he'd found himself in when he heard the digging.

They climbed out of the ground one by one, like humanoid landmines, spindly automatics with spears clutched in their hands. Half-a-dozen cyclopean red eyes glared at Muzazi through the white haze around them. Executioner automatics, just like the ones he'd dealt with in the tunnels. Muzazi suspected it wouldn't be so easy now.

The Executioners advanced slowly and cautiously from all directions, ready to block or dodge the instant they saw Muzazi's attack. Muzazi could only conjure a weak and frail Radiant from his good hand, waving it around threateningly to slow the Executioners’ stride as much as possible.

It wouldn't for long. When they attacked, Muzazi doubted he would even be able to dodge.

A distance was misjudged, a movement mistimed, and the fatal moment came. Muzazi moved his Radiant slightly -- and the nearest Executioner smashed it into nothingness with a sharp wave of its spear. As Muzazi collapsed to one knee, the same Executioner lunged forward, ready to stab down with its spear and impale Muzazi through the spine.

The shriek of the Executioner pierced through Muzazi before the weapon. Was that the last thing he'd hear?

No.

Bang.

In the moment before the Executioner would have impaled Muzazi, a bullet smashed through its single eye, exiting through the back of its head and sending it flying backwards. As the destroyed automatic twitched weakly on the floor, its compatriots paused, their own eyes flicking towards the new arrival.

Marcus Grace's white coat swished against the ground as he strode through the forest, his Cogitant-blue eyes resolute. With that same grim expression on his face, he reloaded his pistol, spent cartridge dropping down into the undergrowth. He looked down at Muzazi, still on the ground.

"On your feet, soldier," Marcus said, voice cold but not unkind. "There's work to be done."

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Yes. There was, wasn't there? There was responsibility yet to be fulfilled. As that thought anchored itself in his mind, Muzazi's Aether responded to it, flaring up into an aurora all around him. Strength he'd thought long-gone trickled into his bones as he rose to his feet -- and the Radiant he ignited in his hand this time was bright and true.

Until he'd lost, he could still win…

…and Atoy Muzazi had no intention of losing.

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"So," Seth Harrowing said, covering his nose to ward off the scent of burning flesh. "What now?"

After Paxton's 'spell' had completed, cutting off the enemy's communications, his sacrifices had been reduced to a meagre pile of soot in the middle of his magic circle. Seth watched as a cleaning automatic Mara had brought along dutifully cleaned up the mess.

Paxton rubbed his long beard. "Alas, such rrregrettable impatience… but I shall answer you all the same. Now that our loathsome adversaries can no longer coordinate their sufferings, we are free to pursue them individually. Our next spell shall unleash an unavoidable attack upon one of these so-called People of Interest. The one after that shall do the same, and so forth, until we have achieved victory for our group."

"I see…" Seth muttered, rubbing his own chin. "So you can do attacks with this Pax Magicka too, huh?"

"Of courrrse!" Paxton grumbled in annoyance. "So long as I understand the magical phenomena I wish to weave into existence, and I have the sacrifices good conduct demands, I can accomplish anything! Do not underestimate me, Harrrrowing!"

"Right, right," Seth raised his hands apologetically. "My bad, partner. Thanks for the info."

With that, he raised his gun and shot Mara Het between the eyes.

She'd finished cleaning up the circle anyway, so it was about time. The girl fell to the ground, killed instantly by an attack she hadn't expected. Blood and brain painted the tree behind her, but Seth paid it no mind. He was already moving again.

"What are you --" Paxton cried, climbing to his feet, but too late.

Seth slammed the grip of his gun into the old man's temple, audibly cracking the bone and sending him into an unconsciousness he was unlikely to wake from. That was fine, though. So long as he was still technically alive, that was fine.

His dirty work done, Seth returned his revolver to its holster. He made sure to handle it with care: it had been a gift, after all.

He'd have no choice but to go chase his target after this, but that didn't mean he was willing to leave empty-handed. He wanted that wish too, after all. That was why he'd spent the last hour or so coming up with this slick and easy plan.

"The more important the sacrifice is to you," Seth spoke to the unconscious Paxton as he dragged Mara's corpse into the magic circle. "The more Pax Magicka can do, right? You said it yourself. You used this girl’s cloning as the cornerstone of your ability. I doubt there's anyone else as valuable on this planet. So…"

Depositing Mara, Seth stepped over to Paxton's unconscious body and squatted down next to it. Beige Aether crackling around him, he planted a hand on the old man's back.

"...if I use her, I'll be able to pull off some real magic, huh? Forcible Ability Activation: Pax Magicka."

A sly grin spread across his face as he put together the order in his mind, compiling the information to be transmitted to and executed by the ability.

"...rain down hell."

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An alarm blared aboard the bridge of the Tartarus, and Ascendant-General Toll's eyes immediately flicked over to glare at it. It wasn't what he'd expected.

It wasn't a report of destruction on the ground, or of a new target making itself known, or even the elimination of a Person of Interest. No, it wasn't any of those things. It was an atmospheric warning.

Toll put a hand to the communicator in his ear, ignoring the intolerable chatter of the others on the bridge -- Harz and the like. "Toll here. What am I seeing?"

The voice of the operator came back uneasy, and he could hear shouting in the background there too. "We're, uh, we're not entirely sure, sir, right now we're still conducting secondary checks, so…"

"Hypothesis -- give it to me."

“Well,” the operator swallowed. “There’s a massive amount of debris orbiting Elysian Fields -- left over from the Revolutions. As far as -- as far as we can tell, it's being, um… pulled down towards the battlefield, and it's -- it's not breaking up as much as it should."

"So it's going to rain fire," Toll concluded before quickly hanging up. He strode towards the console and, hunched over it, bellowed his command at the same time as Winston Grace.

"All Officers on the ground -- find shelter!"

"All you guys get the fuck out of there!"

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Fire rained down upon Elysian Fields.

Like stones thrown by God, one by one, huge chunks of rubble fell from the sky and slammed into the ground, sending great pillars of combustion flying up. Victims on both sides screamed their last as tidal waves of flame washed over them, and unfortunate bodies were pulverised as chunks of debris crushed them from above. The sky, choked by smoke and the blood lingering in the air, had been dyed a gruesome red.

Muzazi and Marcus threw themselves down for cover as fire crawled above them.

Ruth and Morgan ignored it, running in mutual flow towards their enemy.

Bruno and Serena tightened their grip on the bark as the earth shook around them.

Scout turned the body of the Hanged Man into a massive shield to defend the pyramid, and Roy scowled as he collected his grim bounty.

Dragan, embedded in the rocks, squinted at the light of the fires.

And the Supreme turned over in his sleep.

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Amidst that chaos and suffering, two people knew that their moment had come.

Guardian Entity: Suzaku -- 99%!

Vex of the Vermilion didn't know exactly what was going on -- but the landing pods had stopped coming down for the time being. She didn't question it. This was their chance, after all.

The massive creature she’d become, the size of a starship, launched itself off the ground in an explosion of flame -- like the flight of a rocket. Red feathers scattered through the air as the beast shot straight up, heading out of the atmosphere.

Those nearby Special Officers who were unlucky were blown back by the launch. Those who were very unlucky were burnt to cinders.

The beast broke through the clouds in a matter of seconds -- and for the first time, in the blazing sunlight, it was fully visible.

The Guardian Entity Suzaku bore crimson feathers from head to toe, and with each flap of its four wings they drifted down like flower petals. Its eight white eyes, four ringed around the base of each antler, scanned the area around it and allowed it to adjust its flight path accordingly. Suzaku's massive beak protruded out, long and wide, like that of a stork.

The fire was constant. It blazed out from vents all over its body, giving it more manoeuvrability than those massive wings could ever manage on their own. As the Guardian Entity shot up towards the stars, it looked much like a burning sun itself.

"You ready?" Vex's voice reverberated throughout her entire body, made deep and booming by the transformation.

Within the airtight beak, crouched down on Vex's tongue, Lilly Aubrisher nodded. She was wearing a spacesuit she'd been provided, sleek and black, with a bubble helmet connected up to an oxygen tank. She smiled to herself from behind the glass.

"Of course," she said, electricity crackling around her lips.

Time to take the fight to the Tartarus.

Time to take the Heir.