“The hell was that? You suddenly dazed off and then those things came for the door.” Glass snarled, his veins glowing a bright red as strength flowed through them, doing his best to keep the door shut. Silas could only smile wryly, staring at the back of his right hand- a lotus tattoo now spread across the back of it.
It was all real. The Nightmare Seed remained in his mind, his senses were sharper, his memory clearer. Information weaved its way through his mind in such a way he could never forget it; Erebus’ handiwork.
“Have you ever heard of Wayfinders?”
A gargantuan crack practically split the door down the middle and pushed Glass several inches from the door, forcing him to scramble back to keep it in place. “What? No. Is this important Silas?”
“What about Nightweavers?” Silas looked down, gently summoning the Nightmare Seed from his mind. It floated silently out from his chest, cradled between his calloused hands. He felt the world around him so much more clearly; Glass’ shock, the air shifting and flowing in the room and the bizarre, stifling feeling that it put on him.
Another crack through the door gave him a start and Silas hastily forced the Nightmare back into his mind. There, it resumed the slow and steady growth, nurtured by his mental energies. He felt refreshed again.
“Silas, whatever it was, can it wait until we’re not fucking dying?” A claw wormed its way through the door now, followed by a long decrepit arm. The young Empyrean shifted and moved, all whilst still keeping the door closed. “Grab my Revolver. It’s loaded- when I jump away from the door, unload all the rounds at it, okay?”
With a nod, Silas crept forward and pulled the gun from its place at Glass’ hip. Doing his best not to complain about its quality, he levelled the barrel at the door. Deep breaths escaped him as he stilled the shaking of his hands. Their gazes met and Glass crouched down, diving away from the door and all the debris.
As his strength ceased to support the door it immediately shattered into pieces, sending debris and splinters flying into the room. The grey creature assaulting the door immediately made itself known- nearly seven feet tall, arms that reached the ground and a complete lack of fat, barely any muscle strung along its bones. Drool rained from its maw, staring straight at Glass. The creature looked starved.
Then the crack of gunfire rang out and the beast staggered back, black blood sprouting from its chest. Again and again, sprays of black blood shot into the room as Silas used every bullet he had and the bloody smell of Deium Oil filled the air.
He felt focused. Every twitch of his hand, the recoil of the revolver, the movement of the creature; it was all accounted for with every shot in a way he could never do before. It wasn’t that he was smarter, or better, simply faster. His mind processed the information in a fraction of the time he could before.
Blood splashed against his face and he snapped back to reality, his face paled at the sight of the creature falling to the cobblestone ground with a heavy thud. That thing was a person, just like them. Friends and family, just like them. Did they have someone like the Director? Or Caisus?
The Sergeant stood weakly, his hand pressed against the wound on his stomach as he looked around at the carnage. Silas looked at the empty street through the smashed door, the world outside still filled with the fog from the Darktide.
After making sure Glass didn’t know anything about the Darktide either, he helped the young man bandage his wound with some more precision. Silas grabbed him a sharpening stone from the kitchen to sharpen his sword as much as he could. Ammunition was limited- the sword in his hand would be their protection when things went bad. He made sure to grab himself the sharpest knife he could find as well, silently praying he wouldn’t have to use it.
“We need to check the Orphanage.” Glass brought the stone along the edge of the blade, sparks flying through the air. They had used the table cloth to cover the doorway. “I didn’t manage to get a good look.”
“Is it safe for me in the fog?”
A few moments of hesitation later, Glass nodded. The young man’s blood energy could keep both of them safe from the corruption of the fog for a substantial amount of time, but they still had to be quick. The next fifteen minutes or so consisted of Silas looking through the house for food that the Sergeant would promptly devour and convert straight into blood energy for his wounds. Once a thin layer of flesh stitched the cut shut, they were ready to leave.
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Silas held both the knife and revolver in hand as he stepped through the doorway and out into the cobblestone street. Glass walked next to him, his offhand placed on Silas’ shoulder and coating him in a thin red film of light. Looking down the street each way, the soft orange glow of the street lamps did its best to pierce through the fog. The power had come back.
The Orphanage was closer to the top of the city and its exit but the population was the most dense there as well. Glass had no confidence in escaping with his own strength, but the Bastion and most of Ironside’s strength was near the Mayor's Estate at the very bottom. The plan was to grab the Director and the kids before leading them down to what they assumed would be a safe zone.
Neither of them wanted to acknowledge the likelihood of survival, they just wanted to do what they felt was right. A few minutes had passed and they finally neared the Orphanage.
Bodies littered the path beneath their feet, both mutated and human alike. Some of the corpses seemed torn apart, mutants included. The human bodies had been.. Eaten, as far as he could tell. Holes chewed through their chest where hearts should be. Blood flowed like rivers between the stones
“Stop.”
Silas paused in the street, a quick figure dashing through the fog in front of them. His eyes widened as the wind blew his hair back, a thin line of blood on the side of his neck. Refined by the Nightmare Seed, his sight had narrowly caught the creature’s appearance- just his height, grey skin that clung to its bones and long, green nails sharp as knives. Any slower and he’d be dead.
“Go!” Glass roared as his wounded frame dashed forward, his shoulder meeting the Mutant’s stomach and sending them both tumbling to the ground. Its long arms flailed wildly, threatening to claw at the Guardsman’s back even as they wrestled on the ground.
Taking advantage of the large amount of blood energy that Glass left him, Silas rushed forward amidst the corrosion of the red light, his eyes just barely piercing through the overwhelming fog. The entrance of the Orphanage came into view. Its door lay slightly ajar, the surface battered and cracked by overwhelming force. His face blanched.
He pushed himself harder, making his way to the door in only a moment, pushing it open and taking in the view inside. The Director stood tall in the middle of the room, shattered tables at his sides. A group of children cowered behind him with many more strewn across the blood-stained floor. Grey figures lay dead at his feet.
Sliding his sword back into the sheath that was his cane, The Director looked at Silas with an odd gaze, releasing a deep sigh. His form was littered with bites, scratches and wounds nearly the exact same as Glass’, only the old man’s didn’t bleed nearly as much. That wasn’t important, though.
“Glass is still out there with one. Director, please-”
“Stay with the kids, Silvanus.” The Director ordered, his steps swiftly carrying him out of the building and into the fog. Silas could only nod his head quickly and make his way over to the kids. They stood still, almost entirely quiet as they looked at him. They were shaking, but they didn’t make a sound.
He took a minute or two checking them over for any injuries and did his best to staunch any cuts they had, but the kids seemed lucky. The Director, apparently, was an Empyrean strong enough to keep them safe..
Only half of them survived. Silas shook, his mind heaving as he tried to make sense of the room. When the ‘mutants’ broke in, they killed the kids almost immediately, None had a chance to survive once they were hurt, explaining why most of the kids were uninjured. Some of the kids even died with grey skin, patchy hair and skin rotting from their flesh; Silas believed they probably failed the mutation process.
Caisus leaped at Silas from the crowd of children and suddenly the floodgates broke loose. He was abruptly covered by distraught children, doing their best to hug at his arms and legs as they sobbed silently. The Nightmare Seed within his mind trembled, growing bright as the children did their best to stay strong.
Many of the kids here were street urchins and pickpockets. They dealt with starvation and humiliation for years before being taken in by the Director. To see them like this, afraid, Silas could only resolve to hug them tighter.
A strange fluctuation left the Nightmare Seed and the kids grew quiet, their sobbing ceasing as they rubbed their eyes. Only Caisus clung to Silas still, climbing up his back. He felt the Nightmare Seed grow stronger as the children calmed down.
The kids remained practically attached to him by the hip as The Director returned with Glass in tow, the young man limping along; his eyes lingering on the old man’s back with confusion. Silas understood- neither had any idea of their foster-fathers true strength, but neither had any reason to before now.
“The streets seem clear now except for a few stragglers. Most of these.. Things.. Seem to have moved away, I’m not sure where.” The Director’s cane echoed throughout the room as he walked. “I imagine they went one of two ways- towards the Church, or to the Mayor’s Estate. We have a brief respite.”
“And what are we doing?” Silas adjusted his glasses, patting the dust from his overcoat. Its black leather had been torn in parts, revealing the white long sleeve and brown vest underneath. He was just happy his trousers hadn’t been torn. “Do we just wait here?”
He did his best to avoid getting strangled by Caisus’ arms around his neck as he moved around the room, moving rubble around. The children, not to be left out, quickly got to helping him. Silas could only shake his head with a wry smile as The Director spoke.
“We recover, then we head to the Mayor’s Estate.”