A streak of red soared across the sky, a fist sized crimson ball of fire striking the box of ammunition and engulfing it without a sound. Bursts of world energy escaped the box as the flames heated up the deium oil within and exploded all at once. Shrapnel shot forth in all directions into the crowd of mutants.
The Ice Summoner was shielded by his Ice Constructs while Hector encased himself in a bronze green bell. Lilith simply picked up the closest mutant as a shield while Silas and Cassandra sent themselves scrambling to the ground. Whips made of water pulled nearly a dozen guardsmen out of the way and the fire mage simply took a piece to the shoulder.
Hundreds of bullets tore through the crowd in various forms as the world energy burned alongside the Deium Oil, coating the mutants in a thick red flame that refused to go out even as their wailing bodies hit the ground, desperate to save themselves. The Green Eyed Mutants seemed able to put the fire out when it landed on themselves, as did the Empyreans and Wayfinders, but everything else just burned.
Just what exactly was Deium Oil? Silas’ face paled as he watched hundreds of bodies burn to a crisp in less than a minute. The thick stench of charred flesh filled the air, so dense Silas could almost taste the nauseatingly sweet smell on his tongue. Is that why Deium Oil can be used alongside runes in technology? It burns the world energy itself?
With the overwhelming majority of the horde reduced to ashes and leaving mere dozens left, the sentient mutants all began to go on the defensive. The high end strength of the compound had been freed up and in doing so, more Wayfinders were freed up to fight them. Valmor was in an unknown state but Cassandra could still fight, while Silas refused not to.
With Cassandra there, every fight was a three on one against the mutants. That many people was barely enough to keep them from outright escaping, but it was hard to kill them properly. Silas went back to get his blade, taking the opportunity to draw as much fear energy in as he could in the meantime before returning to the gates.
The remaining guardsmen had spread out to deal with the dregs. What was once nearly forty guardsmen had been reduced to barely twenty. They usually had less gates than he did, no different than the mobsters from the Rooks or Blackwall. Silas stabbed his blade into a prone mutant’s head as he walked by it and started to help clear them out.
He stepped over a pile of charred remains and approached a guardsman who was doing the same, cleaning up the mutants that had just barely survived. Any minute now, Amus would finish up and the fights here would be won. Silas was just about to remind the guardsman, a young man no older than himself, about bloodstones when the latter’s expression changed violently.
Before Silas knew what was going on he was thrown to the ground; a rock flew over his head right into the young man’s chest and out the other side, leaving a trail of roaring wind in its wake. Blood covered his face like a fountain as Silas figured it out. He had been pushed out of the way.
His eyes were still wide, each one glowing with a slightly different shade of blue. Blue like lightning and blue like frost. Silas’ heartbeat grew slow but steady, each beat filling his body with energy. Feebly, Silas turned around and looked at the source of the rock, meeting the familiar pair of green eyes yet again.
He didn’t know that man. No feelings whatsoever. So why did he save him? And why did Silas feel so fucking angry right now? His hand reached into the remnants of his coat, pulling out the Catalyst again, his mind nearly blank and obsessed with only one thought. Last time, he broke through to run away. This time, he’d kill the bastard.
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Ironside was built deep into the cliffside, half of the city hanging off of it and the other half dug into it. Where half the city experienced day, the other half only experienced night. At the furthest ends of the city where only rock stood, hundreds of different holes and mineshafts lead deep into the earth below amidst winding paths and ancient ruins yet explored.
Far down into one of these paths lay a singular hall, no more than a mile long and half a mile wide. It bore no other doors than the gate in front, guarded by two grey skinned figures in black and blue uniforms and viridian eyes. One appeared rather lazy, hunched over and sat on a rock while the other stood straight, its sight falling deep within the rocky paths.
Slowly, the giant gate opened to reveal the hall within, the stench of rot and iron spreading out from it and filling the cavern. From it, a stream of mutants slowly walked out and left the caves while another streamed in from the outside world, entering the hall each with a body over their shoulders. Just as the doors began to close again, a lithe grey hand stopped it in place.
“Save the fodder.”
The lazy door guard groaned, slowly standing up with a crack of its neck. It turned towards the door and bowed deeply, not daring to look at the hand’s owner directly. With immense speed, the door guard disappeared from the caves and ran into Ironside.
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With a disappointed sigh, the hand lifted itself from the heavy stone gate and let it close. Once it did, only the smell of death and the sounds of slow shuffling feet lingered in the pathway.
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Unwrapping the block of ice, Silas held it firm in his left hand with the blade in his right. His blood energy seeped into the block from his hand, drawing out the ice energies from within and carrying it along his veins towards the Fourth Gate.
His blood energy slammed into the Gate and sent a tremor throughout his body, cracking it open ever so slightly. The feeling wasn’t much different than when the fear energy reconstructed his body, only this time it was deeper. Instead of his senses, it refined everything from the muscles to his bones. This was the part that killed.
You had to not only withstand the pain, but control the energy from the Gate well enough to keep your body from falling apart. Having someone breakthrough any gate past the Third during battle was unheard of for that simple reason, how could you ensure you could focus on staying alive, let alone on surviving the battle?
The issue was, Silas didn’t really care. His Nightweaver strength was so far above that of his Empyrean strength that his mind could control such energies fairly easily, but he really just didn’t care about surviving it. Silas just wanted the strength that came with it.
Remnant sunlight emerged from the depths of his muscles, soothing the pain and calming the blood energy rampaging throughout his body. The reconstruction of his body became slower but more managed. What was left of Amus’ light was brought out at this moment, helping him withstand the breakthrough.
His grip on the blade tightened and he ran forth into the fight, violet mixing in with the hues of blue within his eyes. The Nightmare Eye thrashed violently against the cracks of the Seed, billowing fear energy pouring out from within and gradually soaking into his body, merging into his veins alongside the blood energy.
Silas’ senses were always a passive enhancement except for his eyes, which he had long begun actively using. Now, however, the fear energy was blending in and flowing alongside blood energy to enhance the rest of his body. His skin could feel the minute changes in the air, his ears could hear the loud sobbing from the boardhouse, he could taste the iron in the air.
And what he felt was control. Overwhelming control over every movement he made. His body narrowly twisted to avoid the limp mutant’s punch, its fist flying by his face as he slammed the flat of his blade into its stomach.
The Earth Wayfinder stomped his foot and pushed his fists out, the earth beneath the mutant’s feet shaking. Combined with Silas’ hit, it took a step back to stabilise itself and roared. The Sergeant appeared behind it and swept it’s feet out from under it
Fire struck its chest and seared the flesh black. Earth shifted and moved around it. The Sergeant and Silas focused on beating it with every opportunity they had. It was fast but Silas thought faster, his body keeping up every step of the way as he ducked and weaved through the punches. Rarely was he fast enough to land a solid hit, usually using the blade to block rather than strike.
Every second that passed however he got stronger and stronger and this thing took more and more of a beating. Its limp was already a weakness and the quartet was capitalising, keeping it stumbling on its feet as it tried to defend itself.
Wind howled as a brilliant black light filled the surroundings, following behind a sleek black arrow as it shot through the air just as the four knocked the mutant off balance for the umpteenth time. The arrow pierced into its stomach where the arrowhead seemingly melted like snow into its flesh, black liquid spreading through its body like a cancer.
Then the liquid bubbled and exploded alongside a chunk of it’s abdomen, leaving a bowl sized hole in it’s stomach. Silas looked up at the roof to see a bloodied Valmor holding a snapped bow and the Nightweaver grinned at seeing the archer get his payback.
Hands of stone and dirt manifested around the mutant’s feet and the Wayfinder roared out for them to strike as they held it in place. A fireball struck its head and sent it reeling back while the Sergeant stabbed her sword into its shoulder, leaving its arm useless. A mix of wrath and glee flashed across his face as Silas brought up his blade with both hands, the Catalyst long having merged with his flesh. He swung down as hard as he could, his hands swallowed by a mix of blue and purple light.
With a small clink, an iron nail hit his blade and threw the swing off, sending it crashing into the ground with a gust of gravel and dirt. The sheer force from the handle vibrating within his hands tore flesh and drew blood, his back abruptly covered in a cold sweat.
After a few moments the hands of stone dissipated, revealing the mutant’s legs, its limp knee crushed once more beneath their grip. It could barely move. The Sergeant moved to bring her sword down on its neck, not having seen what happened to Silas.
Another nail stopped the attack, lodging itself in her shoulder and tossing her to the ground some feet back. The battlefields all stopped, the defenders standing still around their targets. Silas slowly turned towards the north, where a single figure was walking down the road.
Short brown hair parted to one side and bright, leafy green eyes. Wearing only a pair of black trousers, showing off a lean, chiselled physique with tan skin that turned grey at the extremities. Square framed glasses sat neatly over his eyes, a bright shade of leafy green. Its hands rested comfortably within its pockets, not a care in the world.
“Inspector Davids?”
The figure tilted its head slightly and looked at Silas, a smile slowly spreading across its face. It spat out a nail onto the ground in front of it, rubbing its jaw gently. “You know me?”
Silas’ heart dropped and his grip turned weak, his blood energy nearly falling into disarray before the fear energy quickly put it back on track. His thoughts were interrupted by a blinding golden light from deep within the compound, accompanied by a vigorous aura.
Amus slowly walked out from within, his body still emitting light like Silas had never seen before. In his hand was a single dim bloodstone. His hair and eyes returned to their normal black and brown, though Silas could barely sense a hint of gold within his pupils. The Dawnseeker stared at Inspector Davids with an empty expression.