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Aetheral Space
7.27: Fire in the Garden

7.27: Fire in the Garden

"Be ready to use it if you have to, Val," Roy said quietly as the group approached Abraham Oliphant's ship. "Just cover enough of an area to keep people at a distance -- I've rolled a good ranged ability today, so I'll take it from there."

Ruth watched as Valentina nodded solemnly. Nobody had actually told her what the woman's ability was, but from the way they talked about it, it seemed to be especially destructive. Ruth would have to keep an eye out.

"Uh… any idea what I should expect from this guy? Your dad, I mean?" Ruth hissed at Roy.

She didn't really know any of these senior Oliphants at all, but this Roy guy seemed the closest to her own vibes. Wild and free, that sort of thing. When he looked down at her, however, his face pale, he looked more like a prisoner heading to his own execution.

"Try not to say anything," he said seriously. "Best if he doesn't even notice you."

The exit ramp of the ship before them descended, thumping against the metal floor as it came to a stop. Then, a second later, the doors at the back of the shuttle slid open, revealing the passenger inside.

Ruth gulped.

She couldn't help it. The man was huge, nearly nine-feet tall with most of that space occupied by brutal industrial steel. As he stepped forward, each footfall like the beating of a wardrum, bursts of acrid steam belched forth from the vents on his mechanical shoulder blades. To be honest, Ruth was surprised the man didn't fall through that exit ramp just by standing on it.

Artificial eyes swiveled in Abraham Oliphant's sockets, their pitch-black sclera almost making him look an Umbrant if not for the perfectly square pupils at their center. He clearly had work done even in the biological portion of his body, too -- despite his advanced age, his organic head didn't bear so much as a wrinkle. The thought was somewhat absurd, but Ruth couldn't help but feel like a nine-foot tall baby was walking towards her.

"Damn," she muttered under her breath -- only for a final warning glance from Roy to shut her up.

Abraham reached the end of the exit ramp and stepped onto the station with all the gravity of an explorer. A Scurrant -- presumably some kind of attendant -- scurried after him, keeping himself so low to the ground that he was almost crawling. Abraham's dark eyes scanned the group.

"A veritable crowd," he said, the hum of electricity flavouring his tones. "With unfamiliar faces. I wasn't informed. What's the meaning of this, boy?"

That last part was clearly addressed to Roy -- and even that giant of a man seemed to shrink under his father's gaze.

"With everything going on," Roy said, almost meekly. "We thought it best to have some protection arranged for you. Carla could strike at any moment, so…"

"So you thought me unable to defend myself against my own flesh and blood. How disappointing." One of his eyes, moving independently of the other, suddenly swiveled down to look directly at Ruth. "And what is this?"

"She's some muscle we've hired, just to --"

"Ruth Blaine," Ruth declared, interrupting Roy as she stared unblinking into that cybernetic gaze. "What's it to ya?'

The eye continued to stare at her, square pupils continually expanding and retracting, before Abraham turned his full attention back to Roy.

"Your muscle is impertinent. It disappoints me that you've brought someone like this here. We'll discuss it later." His eyes swiveled again, now looking at Valentina. "I understand my grandson was injured during these events. His status?"

Valentina, hands clasped in front of her, looked down at the floor. Just like with Roy, all the fight seemed to drain out of her when faced with this man.

"He's lost an arm," she said quietly, eyes wet. "The doctors say the golden hour for Panacea was missed, so…"

Abraham turned away from her. "I'll have my people send a prosthetic over. Make sure he uses it. I won't have a cripple using my name."

Ruth couldn't help but glare. This was the guy they were trying to save? Was it really too late for them to leave?

Valentina silently nodded, and Abraham walked past her -- not even looking at Scout, who was shuffling uncomfortably below. It seemed this whole family had a consensus on how to act when the patriarch was around.

"You'll tell me if there's been any sign of Carla," he intoned, his massive and modular hands clicking and whirring as they reconfigured themselves in subtle, barely visible ways. "I'll have her disgrace my name no longer. Understand?"

Valentina hurriedly nodded, significantly speeding up her pace to walk alongside him. "There's been no sign of her since what happened at the Silver Vision tower," she explained. "All her properties on the Cradle have been abandoned, so she's probably been mobile since then. We -- I have to say, Father, we might want to be a little more careful, there's a good chance they're going to try something here --"

"Yes," Abraham interrupted. "I'd agree."

That didn't stop his pace, however. He simply continued to move forward, staring straight ahead, towards the exit doors -- the rest of the group scrambling to keep up with him.

The doors smoothly slid open, revealing the group of guards beyond -- Bruno and Skipper stepping back in surprise as Abraham ducked through the open doorway. Fix, remaining in place, looked the patriarch up and down. Abraham's eyes scanned the group of employees in a single stroke.

"Some of you are worthwhile," he said after a moment. "You with the green coat -- you'll stay close to me. The rest can form a perimeter."

Ruth exchanged a glance with the bewildered Bruno, mutely shrugging. She wasn't even sure if just striding out like this counted as being reckless or not, but everyone seemed to be moving at this man's pace all the same. The employees fanned out to form a wide circle around the group of family, and Skipper simply smiled easily as he walked alongside the patriarch.

Knowing him, he had his own angle for this, but still…

The crowd parted to allow the curious procession room, but even so this place wasn't safe. This dock was a massive facility, almost like a small town all by itself, with rows of stores and storage facilities for all the travelers coming and going. Ruth found herself looking often at the gap between the roofs of smaller installations and the dock's main ceiling, wary of any enemies that might be using it as a hiding spot.

Dragan had already confirmed he was in place to eliminate the most troublesome long-range foe, but still… sweat ran down her forehead.

"Not what you expected?" Bruno muttered, walking alongside her.

She thought back to Grave, back to Barridad, back to the cruel arrogance of men who had power over others, and shook her head.

"Nah," she muttered, glaring at Abraham Oliphant's back. "He's exactly what I expected."

Suddenly, he stopped his march -- and, despite herself, Ruth found her heart nearly jumping out of her chest. Had he heard what she was saying? He had cybernetic eyes, so did he have enhanced ears too? Would he even care, if he did hear?

When the man spoke, however, it became clear that Ruth still meant as much to him as a bug on a windshield.

"And so it begins."

He said those four words calmly, casually, as if he was discussing the weather -- and then, ignoring the confused looks of those around him, he lashed out with his arm, enhanced speed and dark purple Aether moving it so quickly that it barely qualified as a blur.

Bang.

By the time they heard the gunshot, Abraham Oliphant had already caught the bullet between his massive thumb and forefinger. As screams erupted from the crowd around them and the mass of humanity scrambled to get out of the line of fire, Abraham turned the smoking pellet over in his hand curiously.

"A mundane weapon…" he muttered. "Insufficient even to scratch my chassis, yet seeded with Neverwire… curious."

Even if he didn't seem to appreciate the danger, the rest of them definitely did. With a flare of red Aether, Ruth's Révolutionnaire Set manifested around her, the weight of the musket instantly appearing in her hands. She mixed and matched just a little, too, manifesting a set of Skeletal claws on her off hand. It would lessen the boosts she would give a little, but the extra protection was worth it.

Roy gripped his own forearm like a cannon, pointing it in the direction the shot had presumably come from and -- with a grunt of effort -- sent a blast of condensed wind and light tearing through the air, like a shooting star. It slammed into the top of a nearby building, sending rubble raining down into the alleyways.

The group was a confusing mass of movement, Roy swinging around to see if any other targets presented themselves -- still clutching his forearm as if he was holding it together. One of the employees -- Roy's sweaty-looking aide -- reached into his own socket and tore free the glass eye that rested there, throwing it up into the air. It hung there, fixed in place, turning in all directions as it scanned for threats. Ruth could see the telltale rippling of Bruno's forcefields around them, ready to intercept further shots.

What the hell was Dragan doing?

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Dragan cursed inwardly as he leapt down to the roof of the lower building, charging towards his target -- the Cott aspect that used a sniper rifle. He'd managed to catch the puppet unawares, but he hadn't anticipated there'd be another sniper waiting in the wings. His intention had been to wait until this aspect tried to fire and block it using Gemini Shotgun, but now he knew he couldn't take that risk.

He wasn't exactly being subtle, and as his feet came down hard on the roof the Cott aspect whirled around, pointing his firearm directly at Dragan. There wasn't even a moment of hesitation or surprise: simply automatic resolve pulling the trigger. Bang.

"Bronze Bullet," the aspect said.

The projectile weaved through the air like a glowing spider web, shifting and moving in patterns that no living thing would be able to keep track of. That was fine, however, as Dragan didn't need to keep track of it. So long as it was heading towards him, the bullet was already inside his web.

Gemini Shotgun.

There was a fizzle of blue Aether from behind Dragan's skull as the Bronze Bullet, making its final approach, was efficiently recorded. The instant the puppet saw that, it swung its rifle around and lifted it up into the air, ready to bring it down on its own skull before Dragan could get any closer, just like it had the first time they'd faced each other. It seemed this guy's secret technique was committing suicide.

Fine. He could try that all he wanted -- but it wasn't turning out the same way this time.

Gemini Shotgun.

The Bronze Bullet reappeared over Dragan's shoulder, firing at its own master with superior speed. It struck the puppet in the hand, shattering the limb to scraps of sad wood, and the rifle slipped out of its grip -- falling to the floor. Adapting quickly to the injury, the aspect turned on its heel and started running towards the edge of the roof -- no doubt planning to eliminate itself using height instead.

Dragan took a deep breath.

Gemini World.

For one moment, he was absent from this world. In the next, he had reappeared right upon the puppet, wrapping one arm around its remaining equivalent, his legs around its torso, and bringing it down to the ground. The puppet twisted and writhed in his grip, but with the reinforcement of Aether and this position, it was utterly unable to break free.

Dragan wasn't much of a wrestler, but he understood that he'd need to make some adjustments to this hold based on his enemy. A wooden puppet didn't need to breathe, so there was no point trying to choke it out. It didn't have a nervous system or even organs, so the best he could do was just restrain its movement. As things were now, killing the thing would be child's play, but Dragan didn't want it dead yet.

After all, it was going to lead them right to Cottian del Sed.

"Bruno," he grunted into his communicator, doing his best to hold the puppet down. "I've got it!"

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As the message came through, Ruth and Bruno exchanged a glance. Chaos was still erupting around them, but in the cacophony they seemed unnaturally calm. The shields around Bruno's palm weakened, just slightly, as he lost focus.

"You good?" he asked.

Ruth just nodded, grinning slightly as her claws glinted lethally in the light. An utter brawl was clearly about to break out. This was her element.

That was all Bruno needed. He turned and began to run in Dragan's direction, Serena swiftly taking over and forming a rudimentary staircase of blades to ascend to the rooftops. With everything going on, barely anyone even spared her a glance.

Bruno had picked his best, last moment. The second after Serena vanished from sight, the festivities began in earnest.

The floating glass eye spotted them first, suddenly swiveling in the air and fixing itself on a cargo transporter in a nearby garage. A wordless shout came from Roy's aide, and a moment later two Cott aspects charged out from behind the metal crates.

It went without saying that the two were physically identical, with long flowing ginger hair and blue blazers. One of them bore an expression of utmost determination, while the other seemed just as terrified. Ruth could see why: backpack-like units that were undeniable suicide bombs were strapped to their bodies, red lights blinking as they charged forward with all their might.

"Heartbeat Shotgun."

The first puppet perished mid-step, its upper half exploding in a hail of wooden splinters. A second later, the explosive vest detonated too, charring the remaining puppet as it sprinted towards the group, it's terror only increasing as the flames crawled across its back.

"Oh god, oh fuck!" he was screaming. "I'm gonna die, I'm gonna fucking die! Somebody do something --"

Roy's projectile attack took care of it, the burst of wind and light smashing its face in and sending it flying off into a wall, where it dissipated into orange Aether and zoomed away. The vest didn't detonate, sliding down the wall as it was left behind -- not part of Cott's Aether, then. A wave of the hand from Fix encased it in a prison of stone.

"Don't get careless," he grunted.

Ruth sniffed.

"We should keep moving," Valentina said hurriedly to her unconcerned father. "We have armoured cars outside -- we can escape using those."

Abraham ignored her, looking around the battlefield with obvious distaste.

"This is all you're capable of, Carla?" he muttered contemptuously. "I was a fool to expect anything more."

Too easy. This was way too easy.

Bruno and Serena had told them about Cott's ability, and he could have far more puppets active than just these at the same time. If this was the grand finale, he'd be coming after them with everything he had, not these little party tricks. He'd --

The hairs on the back of Ruth's neck stood up. The glass eye swung upwards to face the threat a second later, but Ruth was first to notice it. Abandoning thought, she reached out and grabbed the two closest to her -- Valentina and Scout -- pulling them away from the incoming attack as quickly as she could.

Curiosity had chosen its moment well.

A massive boulder of assorted junk -- shredded advertisements, crushed cars and even bone -- hung above the group, manifesting right as they were distracted by the initial attack. This was far larger than the attacks he'd used when he was fighting Ruth -- this rock was almost twice the size of the Slipstream #3, orange Aether coursing across its surface.

The puppet itself floated next to it, bright eyes gleaming with deadly promise. As Ruth swung back around, ready to launch an attack to stop it, the wooden man lifted its hand into the air and snapped its fingers.

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"Do you think you guys will go to heaven?" Curiosity asked.

The boulder fell.

But it never hit the ground.

Instead, with almost contemptuous ease, Abraham Oliphant raised a hand into the air, ready to meet the descending sphere of junk. Dark purple Aether coalesced around his hand, and as it reached a zenith in his palm, a single word passed his lips, barely audible:

"Nevermore."

There was a great purple flash, and for a brief moment illusory black feathers filled the air. The sphere hung fixed in space for one moment further before exploding, each colossal fragment flying up towards the ceiling and settling there in total defiance of gravity. Some struck Curiosity as they ascended, knocking him in every direction.

Their big attack hadn't worked as planned, but the Cott aspects weren't ready to give up. An army flowed into the square, Cotts emerging from within stores, from behind crates and vehicles, from the rafters that ran across the ceiling itself. Some bore explosive vests like the first two they'd killed, but most of them held weapons in their practiced hands. As one, from every direction, the horde charged towards the Oliphant group.

From what Bruno had said, Cottian del Sed could maintain sixteen aspects at a time, less if he was particularly active himself. With all the firepower they had at their disposal, that number might not have seemed too high… but he could just keep making more, and more, until they fell.

As she prepared to meet the horde with her musket and claws, Ruth heard Roy shout out from the corner of her awareness: "Val! Now!"

She spared a glance to the side. Purple Aether, just a shade lighter than her fathers, was coiling around the body of the woman she'd dragged out of the line of fire. Her eyes were squeezed shut in utter concentration, her hands clasped in front of her chest as if praying to a higher power. A stray butterfly, human eyes hanging from its wings, flapped past her face.

And then, when Valentina opened her own eyes, they were as black as the bottom of the sea.

"Garden of Earthly Delights."

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Serena landed on the roof next to Dragan -- fury broiling through her as she got a glimpse of the aspect he was struggling with. Bruno quickly took over with a more level head.

"You know which one he is?" he asked urgently. Depending on the answer, holding him down might not have been enough to restrain him.

Dragan shook his head. "The one with the sniper rifle," he grunted, arm looped around the puppets chest. "Which one's that?"

Bruno breathed a sigh of relief. "Ruthlessness," he confirmed. There weren't many other aspects that Cott would use as a sniper, but this was the best they could have hoped for. Ruthlessness needed his weapon to use his ability, so as long as he was disarmed -- literally, from what he could see -- they had nothing to worry about.

"Bruno," Ruthlessness spoke mockingly, even as he writhed in Dragan's grip. "I always hated you, you know. Serena, too. I've always wanted to ask: how did Yakob die? Did he scream? I bet he begged for help, but you couldn't do anything to help, could you? You couldn't protect a thing. How disgusting."

Dragan got some more leverage, slapping a hand over Ruthlessness' mouth, but it didn't matter. Every word that left this aspect’s lips was meaningless -- meant only to inflict pain, to throw Bruno off his game. There was no real emotion or sentiment in them at all. Ruthlessness didn't possess such things.

But even so… Bruno couldn't help but grit his teeth.

"Did you bring the bike?" Dragan asked. "We won't be able to keep up with the Aether on foot."

Bruno nodded, whipping his script out of his pocket and tapping the screen. The vehicle they'd prepared beforehand hovered into view -- a dusty old secondhand bike, with just enough room for the two of them. It wasn't the best they could have gotten, but they'd had a timeline of about a day to get things ready.

It would serve.

For a moment, Ruthlessness wriggled out of Dragan's grip slightly, freeing his mouth. "If you intend to pursue Cott," he said. "It's a fruitless gesture. He's very much not defenseless. You'll die. I'd recommend against it."

Bruno walked over.

"I'm sure you would," he muttered. Then, with strength born from years of resentment, he stomped down with all his might and crushed Ruthlessness' head beneath his heel. Scraps of carved wood flew in every direction -- and a moment later, the body dissipated into orange Aether, striking up into the sky like a bolt of lightning in reverse.

Dragan swung his legs over the bike, the hum of the engine intensifying as he readied the accelerator.

"Let's go," he said, eyes hard.

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Ruth blinked at the figure in front of her. She didn't know what she'd been expecting after the activation of Valentina's ability… but this wasn't it.

A gigantic human ear with arms and legs casually strolled past her, butcher knives clutched in its hands. A human-faced elephant dragged it's distended stomach across the ground next to it. A serpent rolled across the ground next to it, devouring its own tail. Warped and misshapen insects flew through the air in uneven, twitching patterns.

These menagerie of freaks didn't so much as look at the Oliphant group. Some kind of red border, circular in shape and around three meters in diameter, had appeared around Valentina -- and these creatures seemed to be remaining inside that zone.

Roy shivered as one of the freaks, a skinless canine with a crown of fingernail, walked into him. It phased through him like it was some kind of ghost, not even interrupting its carefree stride.

"What the fuck…?" Ruth muttered.

Valentina continued to stare ahead, thin tears of blood flowing from the corners of her abyssal eyes as she continued to work this ability.

"Once, thousands of years ago," she mumbled. "A Gene Tyrant was murdered. His ship, full of his pet projects, floated through space until my people found it several years ago. Most people would have flushed these things into space. It would've been a mercy. Still, though… they're useful raw materials."

Most of the Cotts had stopped at the red border, choosing to exercise caution, but not all of them had that wisdom. One, hyena-like laughter erupting from his throat, crossed the boundary as he charged forward with knives in hand.

He regretted it.

The horde of creatures fell upon him as one mass, biting, gnawing, mauling, stretching, bending, shredding… they were well versed in how to destroy a human body, and they used every method available to them. If the victim had been human, Ruth was sure the brutality of this sight would have been unparalleled. Even seeing this, wood reduced to dust as it flew into the air, made a nauseous feeling writhe in her stomach.

For a moment, the rush of the Cott aspects stopped, the majority of them looking upon the sight of their fallen comrades with faces of horror and distaste. It was time for the counterattack.

The Cott aspects couldn't get close -- but Skipper didn't need to.

"Heartbeat Shotgun," he yawned, lifting a finger gun in the direction of the closest enemy. A second later, their head exploded into wood fragments, and they fell forward onto the ground.

Chaos erupted once more, the air filled with the sounds of shots -- both Skipper and Roy firing off attacks at the Cott aspects surrounding them. The aspects weren't willing to just sit around and die, of course, and did their best to avoid the rush of attacks.

Some ducked behind cover: most of it was insufficient. Some leapt forward, trying to get close enough to detonate their vests: the creatures took care of those. Some even tried to run: they didn't get far.

Bang, bang, bang, bang.

The concert of massacre was neverending. Even as aspects were killed, new ones arrived. Wherever Cott was, he must have been continually generating new aspects of himself.

Bang, bang, bang, bang.

Ruth lifted her musket and fired right into the heart of an incoming Cott aspect, blasting its torso apart and shattering it into Aether. Cott had the advantage in numbers, needless to say, and with an ability like this it was also safe to say he was good in terms of endurance. If things just kept going like this, they'd eventually get overwhelmed.

Bang, bang, bang, bang.

Dragan and Bruno had to eliminate Cott -- then, with the bulk of the enemy forces gone, they could go after Carla without having to watch their backs so much. In the end, it was just a matter of how long they could hold out.

And Ruth Blaine could hold out a damn long time.

Bang, bang, bang, bang.

Bang.

The forms of the creatures around her, tearing an aspect in half, wavered -- and then they blinked out of existence completely. A strand of purple Aether died in the air. Behind her, Ruth heard the sound of someone gasp for breath.

In a movement that was lightning fast but felt painfully slow, Ruth looked back over her shoulder. It was as she'd expected.

Valentina staggered backwards, looking down at the bloody wound in the middle of her stomach. A gunshot wound, dribbling with blood, the Aether around her dying as she tried to muster it. Those black eyes returned to normal, blinking in uncomprehending confusion. She put her hand to her stomach vaguely, shaking.

"Eli?" she whispered.

And then she fell limp to the ground.

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Dragan didn't know when Bruno first started talking behind him. At first, the hum of the bike and the rush of the wind drowned him out completely -- as well as the focus on the bolt of orange they were chasing through the streets. By the time Dragan realized he was speaking, there was little to do but listen.

"There used to be three of us. First Yakob, then me and Serena. Three personalities, so we could look at problems from more perspectives than one.

"Then… when we got caught, Yakob put himself in front of us, the whole time. That's how it -- that's how it worked, back then, one of us would just stand in front and the rest would be like the running commentary. He just took it, the torture… for weeks. Months even. Then… I guess they got creative.

"There was a thing. A Black Blur. A… I don't -- we didn't know what it was back then, but I found out afterwards. It used to be a Special Officer apparently, but it went through an Aether awakening, and after the mind was gone, the body just… stuck around. They used it for… things like that.

"It was like… like what Deceit does to you, but a thousand times worse. Every movement it made, every sound, even just looking at it was enough to fill your mind with these, I don't know, mind viruses. Shred your consciousness down to nothing. Even with all that, though, Yakob stayed in front of us. He… kept us safe."

Bruno sniffed.

"By the time we got out of there, there wasn't anything left of him. Just lumps of memory and fear. Since then, it's just been the two of us."

Dragan kept his eyes fixed on the Aether bolt as they weaved through traffic, his foot down on the accelerator.

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked.

"Since what happened back then," Bruno said carefully, slowly, like he was navigating a minefield. "I haven't been the best at making friends. Don't know that I've ever been. But… if I did have friends, I guess you'd probably be, uh, my best -- a good friend, you know? So, thanks. I appreciate you. Doing this for me, I mean. All of you."

Dragan smiled ruefully as he drove. The first time he and Bruno had met, he distinctly remembered threats to his life being thrown around. How had they gone from there to here? It almost beggared belief.

And yet… Dragan couldn't deny he felt the same way.

His eyes narrowed.

"We're here," he declared.

Following the Aether bolt had been easier than he had expected. To be fair, it was hardly an intelligent being with the wisdom to avoid detection -- it was just raw materials returning to the source -- but still, Dragan would have expected someone with this kind of ability to take precautions against this maneuver.

Was he just being paranoid, though? Cottian del Sed was definitely arrogant -- he very well could have just not foreseen this situation. At any rate, it was too late for second thoughts.

The Aether bolt was slowing as it reached what was clearly it's final destination -- a rundown-looking hotel on a street corner, the neon sign that once bore it's name long since having blinked out of existence. One window on the second floor was open, and as Dragan watched the Aether crawl towards it he knew he'd found their mark.

"You ready?" he asked.

"As I'll ever be."

They couldn't wait for that bolt to meet back up with Cott. If that happened, Cott would get access to all the memories Ruthlessness had made while they were separated -- and he'd know Dragan and Bruno were coming for him. Chances were he was using some secret route to send his aspects out to the battlefield, so he'd just use that to escape.

So…

To hell with subtlety. Time to end this.

Dragan pushed down on the accelerator with all his might as Bruno erected forcefields -- and then, with all the speed the vehicle was capable of, they rammed right through the window and smashed into the hotel room itself.

Broken glass bounced off the forcefields. Furniture crunched and flew away in the chaos. A videograph in the corner screeched as the audio chip was ruined by the impact. And then, in a single perfect moment, Cottian del Sed's surprised face appeared before them, rubble raining down on him as he sat dazed on the couch.

Dragan didn't waste a moment. He lunged forward, jumping off the bike, and tackled Cott to the ground, lifting his Aether-infused fist up to smash the bastard's smug face in. Bruno -- no, Serena -- leapt off the vehicle at the same time, ripping two parts of the chassis off as swords as she charged at the young man before them.

"Cott!" she roared.

"That's not me."

The tiniest seams in that frightened face. The slightest glassy aspect to those surprised eyes. The unexpected solidity of the body he'd crashed into.

Dragan Hadrien noticed them all too late.

The white hot pain of a stunbolt slammed into his back at the same time as it struck Serena. The two of them, having invested all their strength into attack rather than defense at that moment, were spent sprawling down onto the floor, twitching from the aftereffects. Between them, the Cott aspect they'd tackled wept in fear.

"Cott!" he wept tearlessly, hands close to his chest. "You saved me!"

Dragan heard footsteps behind him -- and as he turned his head as much as his malfunctioning body was able, he saw Cottian del Sed emerge from the darkness of the en suite bathroom, a smoking stun pistol clutched in each of his hands.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, Caution. You did a good job as a decoy," Cott said, smirking. Then he turned his dismissive gaze down to Serena. "Been a while. Which one are you?"

Serena snarled wordlessly.

"Oh, it's Serena. You two've been a real pain in my ass, you know -- but did you really think I wouldn't have someone watching my best sniper? This plan sucked."

More aspects, four of them, walked into the room, each holding implements that shone with the potential for violence. A mace, a chakram, a broadsword and a brutal-looking buckler. As they were now, Dragan and Serena wouldn't be able to defend themselves against a beating. It would all be over.

A loose chunk of the shattered ceiling fell down, and Dragan absorbed it into his Gemini Shotgun as subtly as possible, but that was still only one shot. He had no doubt Cott would be able to dodge from this distance, and even if he took out one of the aspects the others would just converge upon him at once.

He had his other precaution, too, but as he was now he couldn't reach for his script -- and those weapons would be upon him before his hand could even reach his pocket.

Dragan gritted his teeth. Was there no way out of this?

"Cott," Serena glared. "I'll kill you."

Cott scanned the scene before him with unimpressed eyes. "Like this? I doubt it."

Serena looked like she was about to bark some other threat, but then her expression of white-hot fury melted into Bruno's cold rage.

"Oh?" Cott said with only mild interest. "The other one. How's it going, Bruno?"

"If you're going to kill us," Bruno said quietly. "Just do it. What are you waiting for?"

"Your friends are killing a whole lot of my aspects," Cott said almost conversationally, leaning on the shoulder of a nearby puppet. "I'll use you as hostages and have them abandon the Oliphants. Then I'll kill you. You have to use your resources carefully, Bruno. You were there when me and Yakob learnt that, weren't you?"

Bruno gulped.

"We would have died for you, you know," he muttered, voice shaking.

"You already did," Cott sneered. "So what's the problem?"

Bruno went to start picking himself up, only to be brought back down to the ground by a tough smack to his back from the mace. The aspect that had brought it down giggled as it grinned, spinning the weapon in its grip.

"What happened to you?" he grunted in pain. "How can you do things like this to people? To Yakob?"

Cott's eyes narrowed. "What happened to me? I survived. You didn't. All you are now is a corpse walking around, reminding me of stupid shit. It's only natural for me to finally get rid of you."

"Fuck you," Bruno growled, eyes wide with utter hatred.

"Whatever," Cott snorted. "I don't need you awake to use you as a hostage. Joy, knock them out for me."

"Okie dokie!" The mace-wielding aspect -- Joy -- chirped, raising the weapon high above his head. Orange Aether concentrated at its core. Forget being knocked out, they'd be lucky if a blow from that didn't smash their heads in.

This was the last chance they had. If that mace came down, they'd never get another opportunity to act. With the tiniest inkling of strength returning to him, Dragan's eyes flicked through the room.

One shot.

Could he bring the ceiling down, create a diversion to escape? No, not with this much firepower.

Could he somehow bounce the shot around, get all his enemies with one attack? Not in his wildest dreams.

Could he catch Cott by surprise, blow his head off and cut this ability off at the source? No, Cott was laser-focused on them. He wouldn't be able to blink without being noticed.

Could he…?

Could he…?

Could he…?

The mace moved, and Dragan's eyes focused on a dark shape in the corner of the room. It was as far away from them as possible, outside the range of the lights, like it was something unwanted. An object of fear.

An object of fear that was long and rectangular, and most importantly locked.

Cott has a weakness. There's a coffin he's afraid of.

The smug smile on Cott's face wavered, just slightly, as he realized what Dragan was looking at. He paled in an instant. His mouth opened to scream, and…

"NO!"

"Gemini Shotgun."

Electric-blue Aether surged through the room, and there was the undeniable sound of smashing metal.

----------------------------------------

The thing in the dark hated, and squinted at the light.

For so long it had been alone, without sight or hearing or speech. The sole method by which it could interact with the world had been the scratching of wooden fingernails against the roof of its prison. All it had been able to do was remember, and regret, and hate.

The thing in the dark hated itself.

It pulled itself out through the new light, through the hole that had been blasted into its prison, and looked at the world outside. It's eyes were porcelain, and had no need to adjust.

Five of itself stood in the room, four aspects flanking the self that it hated. The betrayer, the liar, the coward. Cottian del Sed. The source looked utterly terrified as it stared at the thing in the dark.

It looked down, at the figures on the floor. One young man it didn't recognize… and one it did.

The thing in the dark smiled sadly.

"Hello, Bruno," said Guilt.