“Let’s go, move it, move it!”

Isaac waved his hand, directing dozens of people every which way as the Corruption in the air continued to grow dense. Shining blue blood energy poured out from him in waves across the floor, latching onto the passerby’s feet and keeping them safe from the Corruption, no one any the wiser.

As Silas approached from behind with the Director, more and more people grouped up in front of the Mayor’s Estate in nearly complete silence. The gang members stood around them alongside the guardsmen, keeping them quiet whilst also keeping them safe from the fog.

It wasn’t anarchy but it was grim. Silas could see the dark expressions on everyone’s face, the confusion of the children and the despair of the parents. Nothing about it screamed hope.

Mayor Edwards and Arthur stood off to the side, a weave of vines covering the former’s body like armour while the Prophet wore a set of strange gloves. The Inspectors and Old Isaac only wore their uniforms, glints of energy peeking through the tears.

In the short time it took Silas to arrive at the Estate, everyone had been prepped for war, stern faces and tight grip on their weapons. It didn’t take long afterwards either for the people in charge to get everyone moving. Only fifteen minutes after, thousands of people started walking up the streets of Ironside towards the Market District.

Walking at the back of the group, Silas could see people every moment rushing to catch up, some of whom made it and some who didn’t. He couldn’t bear to continue watching, instead opting to play with the kids or focus on what’s going on in front.

The entirety of the way up and through the Market District was quiet. Empty, even. They didn’t hear a single roar, didn’t see a single patrol. They passed by his home on the way and Silas quickly scoured through it for a bag of clothes and small stuff to take with him, mainly picture frames and random knick knacks.

Life only showed up as they passed the Ariadne, dozens of gang members peering out towards their crowd from the buildings and rooftops. Some even joined in amidst the angry shouts of their comrades, a decision that Silas frankly approved of. Staying now is only death. Such a small population wouldn’t be able to survive.

He sighed, watching a few of them get shot in the back as they tried to join up with the civilians. Guardsmen retaliated shortly after, killing those responsible. The first blood shed today was by human hands. Silas shook his head, expanding the radius of his Anchored Spirit Art the most he could until finally, it encompassed a good third of the group.

His being still felt sluggish from the Rune Carving, slowly lightening up as time passed. His eyes wandered to the sea off to their left, hearing the waves crash into the rock. Was that thing still out there? Waiting?

A few more fear energy signatures appeared in the group and Silas noticed them to be Wayfinders, a sight that caused him some relief. They looked like the Ice Construct guy and Fireball guy respectively, no one else coming with them.

Silas didn’t know if Amus just had another plan for them or if he was confident in his power, but Silas wouldn’t stick around. If even the Mayor and Isaac, people above Physique Establishment, wanted to leave, then why did he believe himself able to stay? It was immature at best and arrogant at worst.

“Worried?” Hector walked at the back near Silas

“Why would I be worried?”

“Well, it’s empty, isn’t it? Calm before the storm kinda thing?”

“With the Mayor here, nothing can go wrong. Only two other people are his equal and one of them is also on our side.” Silas sighed, doing his best to calm his nerves. “We just have to keep calm and let them do their thing.”

“Easy for you to say.” Hector grumbled, crossing his arms.

“Oh? What’s that mean?”

“Mr. Show No Fear says keep calm.” Hector grinned. “That’s half the reason I’m standing over here. You suck up all the fear or something, but it doesn’t help entirely.”

He never really thought of it that way. He hadn’t felt fear the same in nearly a month now, had he? Was it so easy to forget? Silas sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, ignoring the twitch of his hand. Not for himself at least. Fear for others was still very prevalent.

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“Archimedes?!”

Silas looked to the front where a booming voice pierced through the fog, Silas recognized it as Isaac’s. Archimedes was the Deacon, no? Or the priest. Leader of the Church in Ironside. But why did Isaac seem so aggressive?

A buzzing sound overtook his senses and Silas felt his hair stand on end. Blinding red light filled his vision and purified the fog en masse, stretching across the horizon and taking a chunk of the crowd with it. A deranged laugh overlaid the light.

“Archimedes!” The Mayor roared out and a towering tree took root in the street, sending the civilians scattering. Vines descended from the tree’s crown while roots burrowed out from the ground, both bolting towards a figure suddenly floating in the sky. They were at the front of the crowd, so far Silas could barely see the red robes covering his body. The thick stench of ozone was all that he could smell, the remnants of those that disappeared.

The Bishop waved his hand and red light met the vines and roots, burning away at them over and over again. Massive shards of ice shot through the air towards him and the floating figure found himself besieged on all sides as both Empyreans attacked.

Yet Silas could see the fear grow on all sides- Three figures stood in front of their convoy, keeping them in place with strange expressions. Each one more ragged than the last, deep claw marks running through their flesh, their red robes torn and Iron Crowns resting atop their heads so tight they bled.

Inspectors stepped up to meet them yet they didn’t take advantage of their numbers, three remaining still. Silas’ worst thoughts came true when the cry of Screechers followed shortly after, and it immediately became hard to keep the group calm even as he siphoned every drop of fear they had.

Were they working with the Aberrants? Why? What could they possibly fucking gain? Silas looked up at the battle in the air, Archimedes’ inane rambling barely audible throughout the clashes. “Ironside has already fallen, a Forbidden Ground appears! Tainted! Unclean!”

“You cannot be saved!” With a wave of the Bishop’s hand, a blur of red light shot towards the crowd and was smashed into pieces by a root. The remnant light scattered over the people, specks of blazing red light landing on their flesh and immediately igniting upon their skin. Within moments they were ash. Hundreds of people dead by one man’s hand.

“We need to go.”

“We need to help-” Hector rushed out the words but Silas gripped his hand hard.

“We need to leave before we’re the unlucky grunts getting wiped out.” Silas let him go and grabbed onto Caisus, who in turn was holding hands with the rest of the kids like a chain. The Director looked at him silently and nodded.

Silas circulated his blood energy and immediately began pushing through the crowd, Hector following close behind with his family. Fear energy blended with the blood energy and filled his eyes, giving him just enough instinct to avoid the unlucky areas where shattered red light landed like rain. Some people tried to use objects as shields, instead just burning it along with themselves.

The Director would raise his cane and slam out at any light too fast for Silas to dodge, dispersing it towards the crowd around them. When the mutants finally arrived, they crashed into the convoy like a tide against the cliff. The screams only multiplied as death after death tore through the survivors and split the convoy up.

“Silas!” Glass cried out as he pushed his way through the crowd, latching on tight to the Nightweaver’s shoulder. “The mutants are here, we need-”

“To leave.”

Glass’ expression froze but he didn’t stop running alongside him. As if doubting what he heard, the Sergeant shook his head. “What? We need to-”

“Leave.” Silas doubled down. He saw the Aberrants standing outside the crowd, as if looking for something within. Their targets. He looked back at The Director and the older man immediately put his head down, acting less flashy even as he diverted the fiery light.

With an expression that said he finally understood, Glass grew quiet and joined the group at the back, running alongside Gideon. Very quickly they became one of few groups moving forward and yet with all the ground they made, the threat of death only loomed closer.

Voiceless began cutting through the crowd towards their position, leaving bodies sliced to pieces in their wake. Just as they approached Silas’ group, he saw thin strings weave through the air. The moment the mutants made contact with them, the strings turned rigid, and they fell apart like their victims did.

Arthur stepped out from behind a few panicking civilians, his hands moving like he was playing the piano as string after string was sent through the air like a tapestry, leaving nothing but carnage in his wake. Immediately a circle of space opened up where no mutants remained, nor survivors. Silas’ eyes widened.

That idiot. Silas immediately dashed over and grabbed the Prophet by the shoulder, pulling him helplessly into the crowd of people. Mere seconds afterwards, Silas looked back to see Inspector Davids standing in the circle as it filled up with more mutants. He looked away right before the beast made eye contact with him.

Soon they were underneath the battle in the sky. Silas couldn’t see Isaac anymore, only a silent Mayor Edwards standing beneath the Tree he summoned, its vines, branches and roots moving in tandem with him. In front, the three Inspectors fought with the Priests. The latter used only their bare hands against the Empyreans’ various weapons.

Were the priests really so strong? The Emperor was said to have fought back the Churches long ago, but the idea of Empyreans fighting priests on even footing, it didn’t make sense. Did the Gods give them power? Hetyx?

His thoughts were cut off as they finally climbed the slope and reached the Upper City, the only part of Ironside built on solid land. What was meant to be miles of city beneath the starry sky was instead a wasteland of rubble, ash and bone. Torched, leaving only one lone Cathedral standing in what was once the district’s centre.

Silas froze in place for a moment, unable to resist looking back at Bishop Archimedes. Was it him? Who else could have? How could a single person cause this kind of damage? He turned back to keep looking ahead and was met with the dull green eyes of Inspector Davids, the aberrant staring past him entirely.

“Found you.”