The sound of his own mantle shattering was enough to make the Fourth feel nauseated. His head spun, and he noted a sickly, metallic taste in his mouth. He felt like he’d been hit in the head with a hammer; one quick, hard strike directly to the crown. Xanarken was certain that if the interface he wore hadn’t been submerged in fluid, it would probably be smoking.

He could hear alarms from all around as his pod sent out distress signals to the other Eidolon. The lid hissed and shifted before he saw the face of the Fifth who – for a change – he actually welcomed. She reached into the oily liquid to shove the interface off his head, and angled under his shoulders to help lift him up above the surface.

“X-Xanarken!” She called-out in worry, “What happened!? I think I’m going to have to get Arbelos down here… It looks like your entire access-node is fried.”

The Fourth threw off the air-mask covering the lower half of his face, and coughed; blood poured from his nose as he leaned forward, dripping into the shimmering color of the stasis-fluid. Both thin hands came up to clutch at his head, “It’s…killing me… The pain…”

“It’s going to take a minute to get something down here to offer some relief. What’s going on? Why did Rylen yell at me to come down here? His call and the notice you’d gone offline came practically at the same time…” Etienne wondered dubiously, and glanced aside as she spotted the Third manifest on the other side of the pod, “Check his head-gear; something’s wrong with it.”

Xanarken wasn’t sure how to answer, so he said the only thing that came to his agony-riddled mind, “…It’s complicated…I was attacked…”

Arbelos held the interface in his hands, “There’s some peripheral damage but it’s still serviceable.” He assessed, and his already-luminate eyes glowed even brighter as he ran a few diagnostics, “Your profile is irreparably corrupted.”

“His profile…?” Etienne echoed, “You mean…his mantle?”

“No; his Eidolonic profile. Everything that was ever attached to the name Xanarken Tellan is damaged and will have to be rebuilt. The corruption spread so far, it rendered his back-ups unusable.” The Third explained, rather matter-of-factly, and turned the assembly around in his hands, “Although…there’s another one here. Must be one of the copies you made while crossing into the south. I’ll see if I can find some containers to load it on.”

“How long will it take to replace my profile?” The Fourth wondered, “There’s a… Rylen will need my help right away…”

“Two weeks. I can expedite it to 28 hours if I put everything else aside.”

“Shit… It’ll all be over by then.” Xanarken whispered; he heard the heart-rate monitor beep faster then, and he did his best to twist-around where he sat, only to get tangled in the cables attached to his flesh. He swatted around helplessly, “Turn it off!”

“Xanarken, easy…you’re bleeding from every hole in your head right now.” Etienne warned, seeing the red slicks from his ears and eyes following those from his nose. She reached for him though, and silenced the meter, “I’m sure that whatever is going on, Rylen can handle it on his own for a minute.”

“You don’t understand…” He grumbled, and clasped at his head again.

Rylen could not have manifested at a worse time, but there he was, frantic in his approach, “You’re okay!” He said, the relief on his voice evident. He grabbed the open edge of the pod and looked a bit more skeptically at him though, “…I stand corrected. You’re bleeding. What happened?”

The Third stared indifferently, and offered the metallic crown back before vanishing, “I will acquire those pods and send the load-invite to this interface.”

Etienne crossed her arms, “Some kind of feedback through the Eidolon System. He said he was attacked. Last time that happened, it was because of a Warp Magi you two tussled with on the Sterling Rose. What was it this time?”

Rylen shook his head and slouched slightly where he stood, “The Kitezans, they…sent Prince Aamin back. They were doing an exchange with the Sargonians – Duke Mardu for Prince Iresha – but the ship carrying the Duke exploded on arrival, so both he and the Emperor are both dead.” He explained simply, watching the woman’s expression darken with every word, “Aamin though… There’s something seriously wrong with him…he’s like a man possessed. I only caught a glimpse on Dame Ren’s stream, but he looks…wrong.” He lifted up again and gestured irritably at the Fourth, who to that point had been rather quiet, “What the Hell were you thinking!? After everything else, you just walked Gabriel into the fire yourself?”

That earned a skeptical look from the Fifth.

“What were you two even doing over there? Wasn’t it enough that Gabriel got in her way last time he was sent in with her?” Rylen continued irritably, “I have maybe 30 minutes before the entire Hadiran Accord is crawling up my ass about what happened in Trazad, and I need you to handle them while I deal with the direct response. Prince Iresha’s ship is only a couple hours out from Oceanside and we can’t reach them anymore.”

Xanarken had no answer, and just turned to look at the warbling image of his own feet through the ripples.

“…What’s the matter? Is he deaf?” Rylen looked to Etienne.

“No…” She answered.

The First turned back to his brother, and leaned down slightly in an effort to find his line of sight, “Xanarken!”

“I can’t help you.” He finally answered, and avoided that orange-eyed gaze by looking at the golden weave of metal bands in his hands. With a quick breath, he put the interface back on his head, though he didn’t bother with leaning back under the water.

“What are you talking about?”

Etienne had tilted her head, giving a very confused look at the man sitting in his pod. The both of them suddenly received their summons though, and she looked to the First, “Arbelos said Xanarken had a second profile somewhere. The main one got nuked. This ought to be Arbelos saying he’s ready to roll it out.”

“…A second profile?”

“Probably just the one left-over from your trip south.”

Rylen could only manage a defeated laugh, but he steeled himself, “Well, it’s fine… If we have to spread-out a bunch of those pods so they’re in convenient places for a while, then…that’ll just have to be what we do.” He set a hand onto one of those pale wet shoulders, “It’ll be a pain in the ass, but you shouldn’t need to be anywhere in Kitez anyway… Gabriel can handle that part. It’ll be a little funny to watch you use glasses on a mantle to access the World Cloud though.”

“…Mhm.”

“Okay, see you in a second.” The First gave a pat and dissolved, and Etienne followed after him.

Xanarken could only sit in anxious silence, listening to the uneasy hum of the SERAPHIM Engine at the front of the room.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

Arbelos had gone to the nearest SkyFortress to Agartha, and had commandeered some pods from the ship’s stores. The First’s meeting room was quiet save for them, and the Third crouched in front of the metallic orb. The light on top flashed green, and he rose to take a step back.

Rylen was half-distracted by the frustration of not knowing what was happening in Trazad; Ren’s helmet was face-down in the dirt, and Furion’s was dark. He tapped a finger against his hip impatiently, “What are they even doing out there?” He wondered quietly, and after a few seconds, heard that telltale sound of a mantle starting to form from the pod’s supply. He saw the shadow of legs first, and turned to face the man, “Took you long enough. For a minute I thought you were…”

His words caught in his throat.

Etienne tilted her head and gestured at the man, “…Who the Hell is this? Xanarken, you loaded the wrong thing.”

Arbelos stared, “There was only one mantle to load.”

The both of them looked back at Rylen, then back to the fair-skinned, black-haired man standing opposite, with the half-baroque mask covering his right eye.

Latheroux could only sigh, “Like I said; I can’t help you.”

Rylen’s wide-eyed stare narrowed, and he took an angry step forward, “…It was you. The…whole fucking time.” He raised his hand out towards the other two, “Etienne, please prepare your people for a full-scale invasion of Kitez. Arbelos, thank you for your help here. You can both go.”

“…Rylen?” Etienne dared.

“Thank you.”

Arbelos was already gone, and although she hesitated, Etienne followed after, a worried look on her face.

Rylen’s gaze went from annoyed to hateful, “…Is Gabriel in on this charade, too?”

“No.”

“Good. Because if he was, I’d have to kill him, too.” The First snarled, and quickly disappeared from that lonely space.

Latheroux closed his one visible eye, and waited for the worst. A few seconds of anxious trepidation passed, and he felt it… The tightness around his throat started, and wound taut. Latheroux grunted a restricted cough, and pulled his hands up towards his throat, grasping at unseen hands. The mantle only finally collapsed back to the dust it had come from when Rylen jostled the interface-crown free, and Xanarken was forced to look out at the rage-filled eyes of the Eidolon who was strangling him with all his strength.

.

“We don’t have time for that!” Furion barked.

Gabriel just snarled back, “No time!? You’ve had this whole time, and all you’ve done is bitch at me to get away from her! Screw you! I’ll refuse my spot with the Eidolon if it means keeping her away from you.”

Rylen manifested a short ways away; none of the three figures present noticed him at first. He had no idea what he was walking into, and he looked between the two arguing men with a vacant expression.

“…You can’t just do that.”

“Watch me!”

“…I’m afraid the Captain has something of a point, Gabriel.” Rylen said abruptly, and stepped into view, “…You’re the Fourth Wing of the Council now.”

“…What?”

His eyes felt heavy, but Rylen pressed on, “Xanarken is dead. As his second, it’s on you to take his place.”

“…No… How…could he be…? He was just…”

Rylen could only wait so long before he made his way over towards the Captain, though he only went so far as to be in easy earshot, “What’s the status of this place? You people keep taking your helmets off – against regulation, I might add – and it’s impossible to monitor what’s going on when you do. I could only assume Aamin had been dealt with because I could hear you and Gabriel bickering at each other from wherever your helmet ended up.” He gestured around the blast-zone irritably.

Furion grunted quietly and decided to exit from his armor, and the evidence of his injury became more obvious than just the dent. Red had permeated from chest to foot, and the Captain felt it that much worse as his ribs were freed from the pain of the pressure, “Lord Rylen… The target was eliminated. I can’t guarantee that the area is secure until we run a perimeter but, preliminarily, I believe the worst is passed.”

“And what’s going on with your armor? How did a Fafnir take such heavy damage?”

Teal eyes twitched slightly, and Furion grimaced, looking past the First to where Gabriel and Ren were still down; Ren had become lucid enough to comfort the newly-made Eidolon in his grief, I don’t think Lord Rylen knows what happened…in the slightest…

“It was my fault, sir.”

Rylen glanced back, and spotted Ren trying to get Gabriel back up to his feet, “Come again?”

Furion stared on incredulously, More lies…

“We were both going for the Prince at full tilt and ended up hitting each other.” She explained, “You’ll find that the dent on the front of the Captain’s armor fits my right foreleg.”

“I know you want his job but I didn’t think you’d be so ready to take him out to get it.” The First shook his head, and pointed at the Captain, “Looks like you’re out for the moment. I have people on the way here to secure the city, but until they arrive, you should seek medical attention from the Sargonians. Dame Ren, get to the Buckler. Captain Landon will be on point for the assault. I’ll divert the other Fafnir that way to meet you there.”

“Yessir.”

“Gabriel, I need you to head that way as well.” Rylen continued, and turned his blank eyes towards the new Fourth, “I know you have your skiff here in the city. You’re going to be addressing the Accord with me shortly.”

Gabriel just gawked incredulously, eyes red with grief, “You just told me my father is dead and you want me to-”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I want you to do.” Rylen snapped, “After all, I just told you my brother is dead, and I need to tell the alliance why we’re about to carpet-bomb an entire country.” He gestured out over the lake, “Or did you forget that Prince Iresha is still out there? If you don’t want to think about the carnage I’m about to unleash, then think about bringing him back…because when I’m done, Sargon and Kitez are going to be one nation, and he’ll be grateful for the fact that I sat his ass on that throne and not some puppet-governor like they’re all worried about.”

A taxing stupor had already settled in Gabriel’s mind; his head felt tingly, and his ears were ringing. He blinked hard and pinched at the bridge of his nose.

“I need you to get your shit together right now, Gabriel.” Rylen’s voice caught him again, “You can mourn when our business is done. We have work to do. …We have to avenge the Duke, the Emperor…Xanarken…and all the people who are about to die because I let the Fourth fuck around two decades too long.”

Gabriel lifted his eyes, and gave a sullen nod, “…Okay…”

Rylen hesitated to leave for a moment, but then finally dissolved.

Ren waited a moment, but when she was sure the First wouldn’t suddenly come back, she turned her eyes up to the blonde, “…You’re gonna make it. Just take it one step – one minute – at a time.”

Gabriel had to shake his head to regain some semblance of his wits, “…How is it even possible that you’re saying that after what just happened? I just… I just watched you kick the shit out of Furion and had to summon-up power I didn’t even know I had to get that thing inside you to chill the fuck out…”

“I know, but that’s exactly why…” She answered, and pulled her hands back, “Whatever you did…it… I can’t feel it anymore.”

“It’s not gone…I can promise you that…” Gabriel retorted cautiously, and set his hands on the outside of her armored shoulders, looking at her squarely in the eyes, “It’s going to come back…I don’t know when or how, but…you have got to be so careful… You can’t put yourself at any unnecessary risk…”

Ren couldn’t help the flurry of nerves in her chest; hearing someone worrying about her and not just her situation was a bit of a marvel. She swallowed a hard knot in her throat, but nodded, “I know. Whatever you did though, I trust it.”

“I don’t even know what I did; that’s the problem. What do you know about that creature…? What can we do?”

For what it was worth, Ren stepped in under those arms and wrapped her own around the man’s trunk, “We can talk on the way. You should call Maeve up here. If we’re both heading in the same direction, then I’ll just catch a ride.”

That hug was a momentary salve to Gabriel’s distress, “You don’t know how happy I am that you pulled through…”

“Keep your eyes forward… We’re still in the thick of it.”

Furion could only stare at them with a mix of anger and frustration, but the pain from Scyren’s strike was starting to make him lightheaded, and he dropped to a knee. It was enough to catch Ren’s attention, and she pulled back from the hug. He couldn’t hear what she said to the new Fourth, but he could see the glow from her wings as she took-off vertically, leaving him there with just the man himself. Gabriel made a few gestures to summon his skiff, and Furion grunted a pained breath, “…You’re no different than me, now.” He said, as though warning him as much as stating the fact, “You let her lie about her condition, and what happened here… You could tell that Lord Rylen didn’t know what happened, and you didn’t speak a whisper about it…because you knew what would happen if you did.”

“You and I are nothing alike.” Gabriel retorted, and dismissed his overlay as Maeve indicated it was coming, “I’m simply letting Ren speak for herself. She’s gone to tell the Sargonians where to find you. I’m sure that you did what you thought was the right thing, but your involvement here is ended. Now it’s time for a different approach.”