Over the course of the next few seconds, the very air was split apart by thunderous blows. A blood-red giant with a crown of horn struck with brutal blows of fist, lightning and Si while his opponent killed the light itself around him in order to fuel their own maelstrom of tooth, claw, scale and heat. Foolish or unfortunate souls who wandered too close only didn’t have their armour and weapons melt onto their bodies from being turned to ash too quickly, the shockwaves alone carrying so much heat and power that the very air set ablaze in poisonous light.
“I must admit, I expected more. The tales were quite impressive you know, the Empire’s guard rattlebeast, breaker of armies, eater of men. But is this truly all that you have, o mighty master of the wayward cave?” Iktan taunted the thing of mutated flesh and bone, a vile parody of the proud draconic form sported by his very own dear Cipactli.
“You of all people know this is simply the way of life. Did not your very own Red Star preach it was not the duty of the loyal to question their rulers? That it was the strong who define destiny for the weak?” One of the mouths on the writhing mass of tortured flesh called out disdainfully, even as the other mouths snapped towards Iktan in blind rage. Times like these Iktan wished he didn’t put in the effort of learning Glish as a young man or retaining its knowledge, truly these were useless words.
“Preach not to me about such things, spawn of the Traitor Lord.” Iktan snarled. “I have kept you alive for so long for one purpose, the texts say you hide a secret beneath your Sect, once your people contributed to a great many of the war-machines that formed the backbone of our Khanate. If you will give up those secrets, I can promise all this death will need not be in vain.”
A dozen maws laughed mockingly. “You are more stupid than you look! WHAT MADE YOU THINK YOU COULD MAKE ME GIVE IN!”
The creature snapped its main jaws and a wave of tooth-shaped radiation flew from its maw towards Iktan in razor-sharp waves. It eviscerated the earth behind him, charring the very soil into slag where it connected, but with a pulse of his own power, Iktan silenced most of the killing beams before they could even touch his rainbow-dyed cloak. A little cut formed on his cheek where he allowed it to land, and from it a bolt of rapidly hardening blood ejected faster than lightning cackling with his own radioactive power, spearing the false-dragon with contemptuous ease. Iktan took a deep breath and focused his meridians near his hands, gathering potent power in a ball, first blue, then a blinding white, before releasing a beam of concentrated Si directly to his opponent.
An Abberant had innate radiation immunity far greater than any below their level in part due to the ability to manipulate such energies once one reaches that stage. Where a Mutant could only express their power through crude alterations to their form largely unguided by their conscious will an Abberant speaks with the Spirits and commands their power and the power around them like a true general. But Si is a fickle thing, nobody can truly be its master. Sure you can command it, shape it, and even at times dominate it. But everyone has their limit, and Phagos seemed to have reached his a while ago. Regenerating flesh sloughed off in useless rolls, the vital essence within well and truly spent and at best forming unguided, twisting cancerous tumours and ugly veins of scar tissue wider than an ordinary man is tall, which in turn split apart in fountains of gore. A dozen mouths puked up blood as the beast skidded to a halt, unable to keep its own cultivation under control anymore, the Curse tore it apart from within. In the end, Iktan’s attack was insignificant, it had probably just sped up the inevitable.
“Fool.” He spat. “You just ensured your secrets will be pried out the hard way, but very well, I will grant you a warrior’s demise at least. It is more respect than you will ever deserve, caníbal…”
Despite it all Phagos smiled. Through panting and agonised breaths, he spoke. “At least… I am not… trapped under anyone’s shadow! Mewling worm at the altars of the Red Star!”
He felt Cipactli growl through his telepathic link, but sent a reassuring spear of calm down the link. It was already over, in truth. Iktan drew his uncle’s blade, now modified with blades made of his own blood, and with a fluid motion sprinted forward and sliced the beast clean down the middle, searing black blood erupting like a toxic volcano. Phago’s core, glutted with stolen power, destabilised without a guiding will and immediately began to melt through the corpse, sinking several feet into the ground, and would have exploded into a cloud that could have dwarfed the former height of the Lead Cave hill had Iktan not grabbed it with his own power and slowly bled its destructive force into the bond shared by him and Cipactli.
Oh well, even if this battle wasn’t very productive he knew Gabriel would not disappoint.
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Magni held great pride in his vision, it was after all his main mutation, and it saved his ass more times than he could count. Sure, how he acquired it was perhaps more than a little traumatic, sometimes he still thinks about that unfortunate old man who died in that cramped, toxic cave. But the incident never showed any indication of repeating again, even with the small scare that John’s “friend” apparently returning to consciousness gave him. After overcoming his dread of facing Roan he thought he need not feel afraid ever again, not with eyes quite literally on the back of his head.
But now knowing the danger did not mitigate it in the slightest, seeing what miserable thing was going to occur barely mattered when the outcome was so far out of his kracking hands. Chaos was erupting all around, with both his experience rummaging through scrapyards and slums as well as John’s adoptive father by his side at the very least it seemed traveling through the rubble wasn’t any real obstacle but with the deafening roar of battle and the constant shaking of the earth from distant blows of scale beyond his comprehension it was hard to even think straight. Nonetheless, he was able to focus and trace the broken lines of the formation, already they had repaired enough to increase the coverage and stability of the formation by perhaps a fifteenth. Other crews were out there as well, but their progress was questionable at the best of times, so far only he and Alexander seemed to have managed to produce the tell-tale flare of psychic power signaling a successful connection. Even at the best of times, this wouldn’t be satisfactory, let alone now. But he couldn’t give into despair, not even now, especially not now!
Suddenly he felt a presence moving closer, too fast and direct to simply be explained by the natural chaotic movements of war. He focused his eyes towards the target, around perhaps a thousand and a half feet away at present. It soared like some sort of Spirit-Vulture, wings of jet black coal burning with some sort of bioluminescent fire, and a head that resembled an eternally burning skull of coal. It was like some ancient metaphor for death from the Age of Ash given shape, and he knew in his heart it was coming straight at him.
Without thinking he tackled Alexander and knocked him to the ground, doubtless damaging the delicate carvings they had been working on moments prior, but who gave a shit right now? An explosion of heat and si flooded the area, power in its most raw and potent form. When the ash and dust settled what stood there was an incarnation of the Spirit of Death, an image lifted straight out of the books of some missionary from the Holy Union who would rummage through the scrapyards looking for the desperate and starving to preach to during the worst days of the famine. Death itself personified.
And they were right in front of it, out in the open.
The burning man moved to attack, Magni could see it coming from miles away, but seeing it coming could not translate to reacting adequately when the basic limitations of his muscles made themselves painfully apparent. Magni may have been impressive for his level he was still merely on the Second Step or so of the Mutant Realm, and moreover his psychic mutation focused far more on efficiency than raw power. Faced against a foe with centuries more experience and just as much more power it was like an ant fighting a waterfall.
“I hope that warning shot was sufficient. You two do not appear to be combatants, if you reveal to me the secret storehouses of your Sect I have no need to snuff out your lives.” The man said. “I swear this upon my name as Gabriel De Osma, Grand Marshall of the Obsidian Khaganate.”
Before either of them could even hope to respond to that Magni felt the psychic energies of the area gather into a frenzied maelstrom. With one of his peripheral eyes he saw a gouged eyeball roll into view as the air became filled with illusions. Swirling columns of mist emerged from the surrounding air as seven near-perfect reproductions of Elder Aurelium phased into existence. Well, at least near perfect to those with senses anywhere close to baseline human.
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“Run!” The copies of Elder Aurelium ordered as the enemy cultivator was assaulted by a barrage of very much physical strikes. Magni knew that, like him, Elder Aurelium was no master at telekinesis or other forms of physical psychic expression. One of the copies had to have been the man himself, though the perfection of the illusion was such that even Magni had a hard time figuring out which could be which.
As Gabriel futily struck at empty air Magni and Alexander obeyed the Elder’s instruction, the latter taking one last moment to pause before scrambling right beside him. It didn’t take long however before they were no longer alone again.
“Enemy presence, straight ahead!” Magni warned as several unfamiliar signatures popped up, blazing with aggression and hostile intent to his supernatural senses.
“Stay behind me boy!” Alexander barked, drawing in a heavy current of air into his lungs, the volume of which would have burst the organs of a mortal man. Grossly distended like some frog-shaped parody of a man the third eye on his chest twitched as it focused on its targets, and aimed a thick stream of blue-hot flame. Two of the attackers seemed to have been brutally incapacitated, if not outright destroyed by the flame, but two others were alive and on their feet, albeit in agony. With one of his arms, Alexander grabbed a pistol and nailed one of them clean on the head, while reloading with the other two hands to finish off the other. This was just the start though, as Magni saw several more, more powerful signatures.
“Shit! Behind us!” He called out, scrambling to the ground as he struggled to carve some last-second defensive wards. Alexander clearly got the picture, with spider-like movements he quickly turned and charged up another wrathful wave of fire. It was just as hot as last time, doubtless capable of incinerating lesser men in a blink, but it did not stop these new foes, who charged forward regardless of the flame. Magni quickly reconfigured the wards and prayed, he was not a pious man but it seemed relevant at the time.
On cue two hulking brutes charged forward and slammed viciously into the defensive circle, clearly unprepared for Magni’s last second modifications. Fed by the heat and the kinetic force of the impact the wards hardened the very air into a shield with strength that only grew stronger with the impact of the attack. Dazed and disoriented, these potential killers were quickly dispatched with a clean bullet to the skull. Yet it still was not over.
In the direction they had just fled from Magni felt a crushing wave of psychic energy wash over him and his makeshift formation, shattering it like thin sheets of early spring ice underfoot. With dawning horror he realised, that was Elder Aurelium’s psychic death-scream.
Descending like an avatar of fury Gabriel soared through the sky above them, landing with a crushing thud. One of his eyes was sealed shut with some tarry black substance, the other wide with pain induced rage. In one hand was an organic blade burning with unnatural light and heat, and in the other an unmistakable mass of severed tendrils. It looked like the old man had not in fact found a way to escape.
“F-father?” Alexander stammered, shaken evidently to his core. Denial and desperation warring for attention in his brain.
“Oh? So you are related? Spawn or adopted, I care not. Reveal your secrets, or die like your father.” Gabriel demanded with burning rage. Whatever illusions Elder Aurelium had used in his last moments had clearly left an impact at least.
Hey, Alexander, I know this is a terrible thing to say right now but since this may very well be the end I need you to hold yourself together. Magni psychically communicated with John’s adoptive father. If this man finds out where the rest are, if he finds the rest of the formation, everyone would be as good as bombed to dust. So we can’t let him get through, somehow we must stop him here and now.
Visibly the older mutant seemed to get at least a modicum of a grip on himself as he communicated back. I understand… do you have a plan?
I have Roan’s formation and a few others that I was using during the tournament stitched into my shirt still, it won’t be much and it certainly won’t save us, but it should fuck with his memories enough to ensure he wouldn’t threaten the evacuation at the very least. He thought.
But for such a potent cultivator, for someone so far above you, you need more power than you can muster. Alexander picked up.
I’ll need your help… and if need be… a death scream should provide all the fuel I need.
In the physical world, only mere seconds had elapsed, with only a silent nod being exchanged between the duo. But in that moment it felt like an eternity was passed as the weight of the decision sunk in.
“You have an answer, I take it? Well out with it!” the Grand Marshall ordered.
Magni took a deep breath, took one of Alexander’s hands in his, and let out his most winning smile. Quickly he sent a silent message and apology to his friends as he proudly declared. “Of course we have your answer! And here it is!”
The next thing Gabriel would know was him standing over an ashen crater, seemingly hours after the battle had passed, incredibly confused as to why he was even there or why his hands were so soaked in gore.
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When her eyes first caught glimmers of movement from John, Cobalt felt a wave of relief wash over her, almost enough to alleviate all her present anxieties. She had a mission to do, she knew, she could not afford to spend time thinking about how her friends and family were dying to buy time for the evacuation. It was good to have at least one good thing, just one fucking good thing, please Spirits help her!
But it could not be so simple, could it, when she saw those jerky movements and the unnatural look in those familiar shattered-glass textured eyes her most primal instincts knew whatever was in that body was not her friend. She had acted before even thinking, and presently was holding what was apparently John’s very sentient, and apparently far more invasive than anticipated, Relic in her claws.
“I would appreciate it if you let me down. This helps neither of us.” The thing said in an utterly deadpan voice.
“SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP! LET HIM GO!” She demanded, growling as a line of drool dribbled down her exposed fangs and off her chin.
“He will wake up once he has recovered naturally. It is, however, in this situation, better for his body to not lie around immobile. Such would only hamper your evacuation attempts, and knowing your attachment to each other, whatever mission you have assigned Cobalt.” Artos explained matter-of-factly.
“And how can I trust you?” She asked, searching for a scrap of humanity in those eyes.
“You probably don’t have good reason to.” It said nonchalantly. “But are you really willing to kill your friend?”
Like clockwork she dropped him, clawed hand trembling. She punched a nearby wall to stop herself from shaking, evidently shocking several civilians preparing to enter the expanded cave entrance given the chorus of gasps in the distance. The thing in her friend’s body gave a most awful parody of what may have been supposed to be a comforting smile. “Worry not, this will be for the best.”
“You are not leaving my sight.” She barked, still staring daggers at the machine possessing her friend.
It had the audacity to shrug, a clumsy lopsided thing with it obviously favouring the far more obviously influenced right arm over the rest of its stolen body.
Of course, it was then when a psychic message cut through her already chaotic thoughts, a few sentences delivered in Magni’s voice through the air with precision accuracy.
Hey, this is probably the end. If you are hearing this right now either I have dealt with a threat to all of you for the next few hours or you will likely have only minutes to spare if I fail. Either way, you really should do what you need to do now and get the fuck out of here. Now then, to John, I am sorry, it looks like you are going to be the last Aurelium at this rate, stay strong and I am sure with Cobalt with you things will be alright. And to Cobalt, I don’t know what is going on with you, but I trust you and I trust you will make it out alright. This is goodbye, sorry I couldn’t manage more.
She felt the strength flee her legs all at once, the combined weight of everything knocking her off balance and tumbling to the floor. Wetness stained her cheeks, are those tears? When was the last time she had properly, truly, cried?
A cold metallic hand rested on her shoulder, a gesture that would be almost comforting if not for the knowledge of what was behind it. “John held Magni in high regard, his mental health would be extremely adversely affected if you were lost too. That is not optimal, you must stay strong.”
She grit her teeth and spat. “That message was NOT meant for you!”
“I know.” The thing responded coldly. “But what is done is done. I believe we have a final request to fulfill.”
Biting back her anger, and her cheeks so hard they bled sweet ichor, Cobalt grunted. “Yes. Yes, we do Thing.”
“The name is ARTOS.” It said matter of factly.
She did not dignify it with a response, dragging it as she made her way to the cave entrance, tracing over her mission and path in her mind over and over and over. Desperate not to think anymore on things that would break her.