Glass stood, levelling his rifle at Silas’ head. The young man looked worn, cuts and scrapes across his face and holes dotting his uniform. His aura appeared weak, fluctuating wildly between high and low. Black blood covered his clothes. Messy brown hair and emerald green eyes that now put Silas on edge. He doubted he could look at natural green eyes the same ever again.
“Silas?”
“That’s me.” The Nightweaver put Noble Eye away, approaching the group of guards unarmed. With a bit of extra speed in his step, he hugged Glass tight and then pat him on the shoulder. “It’s good to see you.”
“You.. you’re not dead?”
“Almost. Not quite.” Silas grinned, pointing out the various new marks and scars. “They did their best, but they didn’t get me.”
The dazed look on Glass’ face slowly faded away until he leapt forth and hugged Silas even tighter, as if afraid he’d disappear within his arms. After a few moments he finally let go, hitting him hard in the shoulder. “Who the fuck told you to go play hero? The Director said you drew the mutants away from the kids.”
Silas just chuckled with a smile, lightly rubbing his shoulder. Without giving an answer, he gave Glass introductions to the rest of the crew. His expression turned strange when he introduced Richard, but it seems he either didn’t care about the man’s criminal status or somehow just didn’t know. After that, Glass was practically attached to him at the hip.
The entire way back to the Estate, Glass asked question after question until there was nothing left. What happened, where he went, who he met. Upon hearing about the creation of the Wayfinder faction and the Cragsmen base turned tomb, his face went grave. Even worse when Silas mentioned Inspector Davids.
“That can’t be. We saw him die.”
“Die, or turn?”
“He and his squad were surrounded by hundreds to keep the rest of us safe. You’re saying he just turned?” Glass raised a brow, pulling his revolver out from the holster at Silas’ waist. “We didn’t see him die, we just assumed.”
“You assumed wrong. Either way, it’s no longer Davids in there. Just a husk wearing his skin.” Silas thought back to how the man acted, and the Aberrant Davids was certainly more.. outgoing than he was as a human. Whatever the process was, he was no longer the same man.
Davids wasn’t the only loss to the guardsmen in the Lower City, either. They only had about seventy Guardsmen left, as well as seven of the twenty Sergeants and six of the Inspectors. Their numbers were more than halved compared to before the Darktide.
The Wayfinders and the Blackwalls total only had about 1600 civilians. Assuming the other two gangs held similar amounts, it would amount to a total of 2000. That’s all that was left of the Market District. Ironside easily had over 200,000 people at its height. Silas didn’t expect many survivors in the Lower City either, but with the guardsmen here..
Twenty thousand people left, total? Maybe less?
It was hard to say, but if this was the carnage left in Ironside, Silas couldn’t imagine what it was like in more traditional cities. Without Ironside’s unique terrain that created one rather easily monitored line into the Lower City, mutants would have run rampant.
Walking down the street, Silas could tell that numbers had dropped significantly since the attack. No one really walked the street alongside the guardsmen anymore, hiding away in their homes for fear of another attack. Silas assumed the sewers were monitored now, but who could really say if they kept everything clear.
He wasn’t sure why it took him so long to ask, but Silas eventually worked up the courage as they approached the Mayor’s Estate, his hand twitching. “Are the kids okay? The Director?”
Glass glanced over slightly, his eyes going dark. Taking a deep breath, the young man nodded slowly. It filled Silas with hope, but he could also tell that it wasn’t entirely a good outcome. “The Director made it to the estate with no injuries. The kids all made it out fine. Physically at least.”
“Physically?”
“The stress, the fear.. Kids aren’t built for the end of the world, man. Without you around, they weren’t nearly as calm. Caisus stayed strong, but a few of them.. the best I could say is they broke. Non-verbal.” Glass said, wiping his hands off on his uniform.
“Have the doctors said anything?” Silas sighed. He could see if the Nightmare Soul could do anything, but it was hard to say. Fear it can take, but he doubted it could simply cure the after effects. “Can they be helped?”
“Somewhat, but only enough to function. They still listen well enough, but they don’t play, don’t speak, barely eat and barely move. Especially those who lost friends amongst the dead.”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
The talk went silent even as those behind them mingled. The guardsmen seemed incredibly curious about the life of the Blackwalls, especially those of them who were Empyreans. It was almost like seeing the opposite yourself, what could have been had you just taken another path. Yet here they were, getting along fine. Were they all like this?
Richard, as if reading his mind, shut that thought down with a simple ‘no’ and went back to talking with his butler. He believed the man wholeheartedly, considering neither of the other gangs wanted to be present.
As they stepped into the Mayor’s Estate, the scene appeared much different. Scores of corpses lay in the courtyard, many of which appeared in between human and mutant, gunshot wounds on their head or stab marks in their chests. No cots still remained, those requiring medical attention since at the start either long dead or cured.
Slowly, their group split apart as they entered the Estate. The Wayfinders, Richard, Alister and Glass all went towards the office while the civilians and Empyreans were sent off to be split up, Silas wasn’t sure how. It was likely the Black Walls would do their best to retain their autonomy.
The office was only a little different than it was last time Silas was here. Large bookshelves still lined the walls from floor to ceiling, a soft brown hardwood matching a pale blue wallpaper. The desk had been moved to the centre of the room, used as an impromptu meeting table.
There stood several figures. Mayor Edwards at the back with his son Arthur behind him. The Director was to the right of him, leaning lazily against his cane. A man in a new uniform stood across the table, every breath heating the room a little. Two more people in uniforms similar to Davids’ stood next to them, looking at a crude map of the city.
Silas locked eyes with the Director and gave him a nod to let him know he’s okay, earning a sigh of relief from the man as his shoulders visibly straightened. It was nice to see the old geezer was okay, even if he already knew.
“Richard?” The Mayor raised his hand and hushed the room instantly. “I was expecting you here sooner.”
“Daughter’s a Wayfinder. Let her do her thing for a bit.” Richard responded, bowing lightly out of courtesy. Seeing this, Hector did the same behind him rather awkwardly. Lilith gave a small wave to Arthur, who waved back with a smile.
“That makes both of us, then.”
“Oh, you too?”
“Mhm. A Prophet.”
“Ah. Mine is a Solari. Can yours-”
“Enough!” A booming voice shook the room as the windows cracked, violent blood energy fluctuations causing Silas’ heart to beat fast, threatening to burst from his chest. The source of the voice was the man in a strange uniform.
He looked only a little older than Richard if not for the silver hair. A thick handlebar mustache and short hair on top, he had a few wrinkles with pairs of crows feet. His frame was almost overly muscular, the air around him practically boiling around him. At his waist was what appeared to be a thick, heavy iron club.
Glass mouthed the words ‘Old Isaac’ to him and Silas understood suddenly who the one raging out at the table was. The leader of Ironside’s guard and the primary liaison with the Three Courts. Isaac Sidorov.
The old man’s aura was on par with the Mayor’s if not slightly higher. The heat wasn’t from any sort of flame related powers but rather simply the unrestrained flow of his blood overheating his body. Did he lack control, or just not care?
“We can’t remain here any longer. It’s impossible to determine the next increase in Corruption before it happens and every extra day spent is another day wasted. The fuck does it matter if we don’t know where the bastard is hiding?”
“I get that, Isaac, but if we just push through the city without a care, lives will be lost, as will many good men.” Edwards sighed, sitting down in his chair at the end of the desk. “We have to take our time planning. As it is now, every Inspector is a resource. We’re lucky Gideon and Coslin showed themselves when they did or we’d be lacking manpower.”
“And we’ll have less and less manpower the longer we wait!”
It went back and forth over and over in front of everyone, Isaac insisting on leaving immediately while Edwards insisted on taking their time. After a few more embarrassing minutes of bickering, the Mayor raised his voice, bringing the conversation to a close.
Old Isaac let out a huff and then pushed through the Wayfinders to leave, his gaze lingering on Lilith and Silas before he left for good. Only then did the people in the room finally acknowledge the newcomers.
Both Edwards’ gave Silas a nod in greeting, looking through the others with some strange sense of curiosity. They had never seen so many different kinds of energies before, all Empyreans simply using blood energy. While he himself used fear energy, Lilith seemed to use some sort of fire energy and Valmor used something else entirely. He had no idea what Hector used other than it was magic, technically.
It was a novel experience for everyone, considering the Wayfinders were treated as a lab rat.
“Why are you here, Richard?” Edwards groaned, leaning back into the chair and dismissing the Inspectors, who both quickly strolled out of the room. “I am rather busy keeping a dead city alive.”
“They found Davids.”
“Found him?”
“He was an Aberrant, Sir. No longer human.” Silas stood forward, hands behind his back. “He acted with intelligence and individuality, but his hands were grey and his eyes were a leafy green like that of the other intelligent mutants.”
“Aberrant?”
“What he called mutants with even a sliver of intelligence.”
The Mayor narrowed his eyes, looking back briefly at his son. With a crack, the arm of his chair shattered beneath his grip as his calm finally broke. “It seems we have a bigger problem than I thought. Where was this?”
“The Refineries in the Market District, where the other Wayfinders are holed up.” Hector raised his hand, speaking before anyone said so. “We left because they don’t plan on leaving.”
“You were attacked?”
“Yes. Several green eyed mutants, Aberrants, wearing Sergeant uniforms attacked us. With the help of a rather big boom from this one here,” Hector slapped Silas right on the shoulder. “And Amus’ breakthrough, we sent them away after Davids showed up.
“Showed up? Not there from the start?”
“He only appeared after we started winning, and didn’t even fight. He only wanted to bring the other Aberrants back.” Hector nodded, looking towards the others for confirmation who all agreed with what he said. When the Mayor saw this, he motioned towards The Director and sighed. “Get Isaac back in here before we’re well and truly fucked, please.”