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44 - Drowning Covenant Of Eyes

Is there anything that can match a Domain? Incomplete Domains aren’t difficult to break should your mastery exceed your opponent’s or if they’re stretched too thin.

But a Domain Collapse…

Only at the absolute limit of technique can one draw close to the Lightsea’s innate world.

* Yarnen, Anomaly 0, Year 3031, in her Codex Of War.

A human and a faceless Anathema bolted across the dense and lofty forests. They moved with a swiftness unseen by those without the Lightsea in their veins. The two journeyed swiftly by scaling over mounds, sliding under branches, and leaping off elevated roots.

Sweat poured down Dante’s face while Astraeus’ body vibrated with exertion. While running, the human used his Tide for another purpose. He flowed the liquid across his skin, cooling himself down and protecting him from the awful heat.

They ran for nearly half an hour until they heard the first sign of combat.

Deeper into the forest, they saw two figures battling each other, the conflict a flurry of blows from between trees. Dante and Astraeus knelt before creeping around the battle, careful not to use any energy that would expose their position.

The warring Anathema never noticed either, and they cautiously continued onward. However, as the call from the Inferose grew more distinct, they grew slower, more stealthy.

In this way, Dante taught Astraeus much of what he knew. As a smuggler, the human had done similar things countless times. He had done it all, whether sneaking past a guard or infiltrating a barracks. The Dirge was a quick learner, demonstrating once more why Thanaris valued him more than any other Anathema.

He didn’t just act like all the other Dirge. He was not only willing to learn from Dante, but he actively sought it out.

When the two crested an edge, finding a valley down the winding hill, Astraeus turned to his partner and whispered, “I sense her. Again. Deeper into the valley. It seems she’s fighting. Do we join in?”

Dante’s eyes narrowed, and he searched with his senses but couldn’t find what Astraeus spoke of in the dense leafage. With a hand on the ground, he bit his lip and said, “Hmm... We’ll have to see who she’s fighting. Let’s go. Stay low.”

Both nodded before leaping over the edge and slide-walking down the hill. Dante breathed in, smelling something bizarre, but as they went down, a pulse of... something flashed past their souls.

Dante knew what it was before his senses told him.

They had entered the entrance to the Inferose. The thing was...

Dante’s breath hitched as he and Astraeus neared the bottom of the valley, the dense forest suddenly transforming into something entirely foreign. Where once towering trees had stood, their trunks thick with age, now only flaming cacti remained. Each flickered with an unnatural fire, casting eerie shadows that danced across the dry, cracked earth. The valley stretched like a mirage, too surreal to be trusted.

Even the sky above was different, possessing only a haze of golden ichor, no stars, no satellites, no ships above. Just gold.

Something wasn’t right.

He blinked hard and channeled Surewinter, the valley blurring for a moment before snapping back into focus.

What the hell?

His thoughts were disjointed. Unnatural. Even he could recognize that. One hand pressed against the dry ground, feeling the strange pulse of energy beneath it. It felt... wrong. His stomach churned, but his head suddenly twisted, and then the thoughts in his head normalized.

Only the faint smell of something sweet lingered in his nose.

The two continued, not mentioning anything else, as the moment the thought entered their minds, it was struck down.

Dante’s senses, usually sharp, felt dulled. The air tasted strange, metallic, almost bitter. As they crept onto the open plain, he caught a faint scent of rot mixed with the overwhelming stench of heat to combat the sweetness.

The world flickered for a moment, then steadied again.

He paused at the base of the valley and twisted his head as the surroundings shifted again. The man’s jaw dropped at what awaited them.

A horde of walking trees trudged forward, their path marked by the blazing cacti, which writhed like molten serpents. Their gnarled bodies moved unnervingly, their branches creaking and groaning like old bones. And there, battling from one side of it all, stood Hana.

Everything felt wrong, out of place, but Dante couldn’t put his finger on quite what. He only knew that she was dangerous.

A dozen watery handguns orbited Hana in a concentric dance, firing bursts of liquid bullets into the advancing trees. Each shot blew apart chunks of wood, splinters flying in all directions. Just a few rounds from the pistols seemed to drop a treant, but... there was an endless horde of them.

Dante couldn’t comprehend where they had come from.

Before he could consider their origins, more people appeared. Anathema, over a dozen in total, streamed from the edges of the horde, rushing them with reckless abandon.

Even Astraeus strode forward, his legs begging to deliver him to the violence. Yet he still held some reason, blinking toward his partner, “Dante. Come on! If we don’t join the rush, we’ll be too slow! They’ll reach the portal before us!”

Dante ignored Astraeus for the moment, waving him off as he tightened his focus on Hana. He felt as though she was the key to whatever he was feeling.

Her movements were smooth and fluid as always, but they differed from the other Anathema. How though? That was the question he couldn’t answer.

He shook his head, trying to clear the fog settling over his thoughts.

Astraeus, beside him, whispered hurriedly, “Do we join her? Come on! We’re losing our shot!”

Dante’s instincts screamed at him. Something was wrong, horribly wrong. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but every fiber of his being told him that the scene before him wasn’t how it should be. Yet, when he tried to focus, it was as though his thoughts slipped away, leaving him in a haze.

Surewinter bestowed a slim fraction of a second of lucidity. It wasn’t enough to make anything clear. He was only sure of one thing.

The Inferose already had a hold on him. Just how he was not sure yet.

However, he quickly got to work, holding Astraeus by the wrist. He commanded the Dirge without room for compromise, “Stay put. Do not move. Trust me.”

Astraeus’ face warred with conflict as his instincts told him to fight, to battle, to evolve and grow. But... he was given a singular order before entering this desolate planet.

“If Dante has a plan, you listen to it. You hear me, Simmer? He’s the Talker. Just let him talk.”

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Thanaris’ words bounced in his skull, and the Dirge calmed himself, breathing inwardly as Dante sank into his thoughts for tranquility.

The human broke down what he saw even as the call shifted into something more than ominous. It was threatening, wrenching into his very guts.

Hana is fighting carefully. Controlled. Not taking too many risks, just enough to push onward. The others... though... they are relentless. Reckless, taking unneeded injuries for progress. Is that it? But why? Why are they like that? Why isn’t she? And... why am I not? Wait… she just walked through that one. What…

Dante came to a terrifying conclusion as he saw Astraeus tremble with desire and the other Anathema risk their lives needlessly. Even he felt a call, one not any weaker than Nullify’s. It spurred him to move, to live, and to die.

“It’s a drug. Hallucination. Whatever. Hana seems mostly immune. You’re affected. So am I,” Dante rose to his full height with conviction.

Astraeus furrowed the flesh above his shifting eyes like a human would. Then, he raised a shivering finger, “What do you mean? I feel fine. You’re saying a lot of nonsense. I’m about to leave you behind.”

Dante grimaced at the thought, hastily rephrasing his words as his thoughts slipped away again. While struggling to focus, he spoke without revealing his true thoughts, “We’ll go now. Just be careful. Don’t push to be the first or use your Domain Collapse. Everything else... it’s free game.”

The Inferose can affect thoughts. I’m... fuck... What? It’s pushing us to fight. It wants us to compete? This is weird. Hana is taking it cautiously, meaning she won’t tire before reaching the end, but the others will. Wait… is she even fighting? It’s hard to tell. We’ll exhaust ourselves if we fight like them, too. I need to...

Noise on Dante’s right ruined any chance of a detailed plan as a shimmering figure emerged from nothingness beside the two Anathemas. It loomed disturbingly like Balba, with the drenched flesh and acidic drips.

The Dirge looked at Dante and Astraeus oddly before grinning eerily and turning around. With a low nod, it vanished as if it had never existed in the first place, leaving only two footprints in the sand.

Dante’s mind branched into another stream of thoughts to consider the man, but he cut it off early. He couldn’t spare the energy. Instead, he burrowed two words into his mind, slamming them as deep as he could before sprinting forward.

With each step, his Tide blossomed, and the craving he had neglected ascended into his skull with total bliss. It felt like Nullify, allowing the man to fall into his old routine.

The emotionless killer had returned.

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Four people ran through the forest as quickly as they could without leaving one another behind. The oppressive warmth bore into them, forcing the Araki among them to overheat. Joan had a pill to temporarily combat dehydration and heatstroke, but it only worked for Harenlar. That left Lucius enduring the sweltering temperature with only his flesh.

Of the quartet, however, Sonna was the least affected. With every step, she left behind a puff of Arido, devouring energy from the plants beneath her. This energy revitalized her and fought against the burns encroaching on her flesh.

This left Rejo panting and wheezing, struggling to keep up. With every step, his vision shook and flickered, but he never slowed or asked to stop.

Dante was close. He could feel it. Joan had found his blood earlier, spilled in a small patch of an open clearing. Their captain was alive.

So, his self-proclaimed first mate refused to falter. No matter what it would do to him. Rejo’s madness proved effective, even if it caused the others to worry about him.

Nonetheless, they arrived at the top of a hill overlooking a valley within an hour of landing. Ghosts dawdled behind them, trailing them like vengeful spirits but never attacking. None knew their purpose or origin, but they didn’t want to linger for long.

Lucius lifted his foot to step over the edge, but a voice called to him from the forest nearby. It was Claudius, “Wait!”

The group turned to see the Judge and his four crewmates stumble out from a tree resting along the hill’s slope. Sonna waved a hello, shouting back, “What’s wrong!?”

Something seemed to be the matter, and the young man beside Claudius affirmed Sonna’s instincts, “The Inferose is ahead. Something’s there, causing everyone to fight all willy-nilly. Claudius has some pretty terrifying senses, but he can’t pierce through it wholly. Use your Arido.”

Sonna nodded while Lucius pulled his foot back from the slope. Her arm reached out while her mind burned with pain. As she did so, Eight spoke again, genuine surprise on his lips, “Wait... have you been using it since you landed? Is that why you’re not sweating? Are you... a fucking prodigy like me?”

The young man was his typical self, endlessly prideful yet still capable of showing weakness due to his age. Lucius laughed aloud, patting Sonna on the shoulder while she focused.

Claudius squinted, too, possessing his own view, “Perhaps. Aridos are special. More of the cost is on their minds than body. She might just collapse at any time, and we’d never know. Regardless, it’s good to see you’re picking it up quickly, Sonna.”

Sonna blocked them out as her mists voyaged to the bottom of the ridge. Bursts of tiny knives emerged in her brain, but she simply bit her own teeth and continued. And there, she found a wall of some kind, blocking her out. It seemed spherical in nature.

With clenched fists, she condensed her haze and tried again.

The moment her Tide struck the barrier, she was flung backward, blood spiraling down her nose. Lucius caught her while Rejo scoped the area with his rifle but found nothing.

Sonna spoke through the blood polluting her mouth, “There’s a barrier at the bottom.”

Claudius bore a negative smile at her condition moments after his compliment. He waved to his crew and stepped forward, “Okay, thanks for the confirmation. Stay here. Be our back-up. We’ll go in first.”

Lucius nodded to Claudius in thanks while he wiped up Sonna’s blood. The woman pushed him away but gave up the instant she realized she couldn’t stand without him.

While the Judge departed with Rosa, Talander, Yue, and Eight, Rejo tagged them with his rifle’s sights, following them the whole way down. Joan sat beside him, stretching out her legs after the long run.

She glanced up at the Araki, stunned by his devotion, “You really are insane. Sit for a moment. I know these bones could use a rest,” Joan lathered her pant legs with a gnarled liquid that quickly gained solidity. Bone formed across her clothes as armor now that she didn’t have to run endlessly.

Rejo didn’t acknowledge her words. Rather, he kept his eye on the suspicious valley. He felt his captain out there, somewhere, and he longed to join him in battle.

Joan sighed at his ignorance, speaking instead to the two who would listen, “We’re probably almost to the entrance. Something bizarre, like a barrier, seems adequate for our case. Don’t forget your weapons and tools, children. Blood is about to spill,” her voice was ominous, a low trill that came from her lungs.

It drew Sonna’s attention through her headache. She flitted her eyes over to the four-armed doctor and scoffed, “Must you be so dreary? Lighten up a bit, doc.”

A glare was her only answer. With a shake of her head, Sonna looked up at Lucius, the man holding her aloft. She patted him as feeling returned to her legs, “I’m fine for now. I’ll just have to be careful from now on. It’ll be your job to protect me, huh?”

The Martian shifted his gaze down to her, a giant meeting a mouse. He offered a slight smile before changing the subject, “Sure. I think we should go now. He let us wait for you to recover.”

A series of nods followed, and the group swiftly descended the hill. Joan’s bony armor protected nearly every inch of her flesh, even her bag of concoctions. Meanwhile, Sonna formed more mist, and Rejo scouted the surroundings with his guns.

Less than a minute later, the four stood at the barrier where Sonna’s perception halted. Lucius stared ahead, and his sharp eyes saw only more trees and a sense of unnatural calm.

He didn’t like it. Not one bit. But that didn’t matter, for Rejo had already leaped ahead into a dead sprint.

Joan and Sonna followed him, with Lucius on their heels.

The Martian felt something press against his mind; it was soft and caressing. Then it skittered off, finding him uninteresting.

Lucius raised a hand to his temple, finding the three with him to be acting strange. Well, two of them. Rejo rushed ahead without concern for his safety as usual, but Joan and Sonna joined him in this crusade.

He wanted to slow down and think, but even after he called after them, his crew ignored him entirely. So, he could only race after them, lost in his thoughts while seeking an answer.

What the hell is going on?

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While Lucius struggled with reality, Claudius stood still, his feet making it mere feet into the plain before he stood stock still. In a flash of a second, his mind warped in pain, and his sight beyond eyes forced him to see the unseen.

A flicker of blood assailed his nose. He opened his hidden gaze to find his crew torn apart. A boom resounded before Talander’s sword arm blew straight off his body. Eight vanished, teleporting behind a hooded figure, who smacked the young man away before his knives could land.

Rosa sprinted for cover, dragging Talander toward a rock with her stubby thorns, but another spark followed them. The woman came within an inch of losing her legs. The Irgen, however, was not so lucky.

In this future, Claudius heard a male voice speak to him, utterly encompassed by hatred, “The Praetor’s little one. The Wraith would like your head.”

Claudius moved his head, only within this fractured image as a pitch-black liquid blocked all of Yue’s bullets toward the hooded figure. Not an ounce of light reached the man’s face, revealing nothing to the Judge’s gaze.

Instead, the stranger’s cleaver cut Yue’s left arm while the woman scrambled to dodge the wrathful whirlwind. Again, Eight appeared, and he didn’t escape this time. The Anomaly held his ground while Claudius remained frozen.

Eight fended off the man for several seconds, drawing blood at the cost of injury. Still, in the vision, Claudius could only see the teen’s eventual defeat. The bloodied form beside his feet a moment later left him reeling.

Eight? Beaten? Without major injury?

Claudius lifted his eyes but still couldn’t confirm the shadow’s condition. All he knew was that death had arrived. His teeth ground against each other as fate sank into his mind.

His eyes told him to run. They told him of the definite future if he stayed. They would all die.

But he refused. He couldn’t run. She was relying on him.

The Seer clenched his eyes, forcing his presence to peer through reality. However, nothing caved. He was at his limit. Seeing the future was a gift few possessed. Fewer could do it on a whim.

His Stigmata was held in such a high regard for this reason. He could force that connection to reality, even if only toward the past. Now, though, he found it lacking.

How? How do I survive? How does my crew survive?

Claudius’s mind raced in this stretched time, but he couldn’t scrounge up an answer. He was missing too much information. Who was this man? Where did he come from? What was his Tide? His Stigmata? His species?

Too many unknowns. Too many uncertainties.

He had to find them.

Reality restarted, and blood trickled down his nose from the sudden connection. His crew ran toward the flickering, phantasmal illusions. He wanted to call out to them, but he couldn’t. A voice echoed in his mind, that of the closest thing to a brother he had.

“Claudius. Your life… it’s too important to Praetor Sun. As such… I will teach you how to create a Contract. This is not something to be used lightly. Most people can’t even get the Lightsea’s attention with years of praying. I can’t do it. Yet she’s confident you can. Only one can be made, though. So… listen carefully, and tread lightly.”

Rasa’s harsh lesson emerged at the forefront of Claudius’ mind. On instinct, he knew this was the only way forward. While his crew rushed forward, the Judge knelt, and he whispered to his greatest foe that had proved to love him dearly. Eight glanced backward for only a second before shaking his head as if he saw nothing.

“Oh ‘Sea. Oh ‘Sea. Oh ‘Sea. I plead for your ear.”

The instant Claudius finished his words, the surrounding atmosphere changed. A towering presence turned to face him, and an unknown tongue ran over its teeth in excitement. The unknown, unfathomable being that was the Lightsea lent its ear to its chosen.

A pressure descended upon the Judge’s spine. The weight was so heavy that Claudius felt his bones creak and his eyes bulge. Nevertheless, he knew he only had one thing to offer that would matter. For years and years, he had always been told he would be strong. He could no longer wait. So, what did he submit?

His future.

Such pained Claudius beyond imagination, for tears built in his eyes with each word. But he couldn’t stop. It was death for himself and his crew or letting down his Praetor. Neither was acceptable. The Lightsea could only give that which was possible. He had his eyes opened. There was more to see.

“An eye for an eye. A heart for a heart. A life for a life. Oh, ‘Sea. Oh, ‘Sea. Oh, ‘Sea. I offer my future, my potential to master my grandfather’s Domain Collapse, and any other I may have access to. I swear to never learn another Tide. Hydro shall be my sole future. In exchange, I demand that my eyes beyond sight open, my ears beneath hearing deepen, and my hands betwixt shadow extend.”

With his concluding remark, Claudius sensed a fathomless depth encompassing him. For a moment, he feared what it may do. However, it bore no hostility. No known creature controlled the Lightsea. It was an unclaimed realm, a power not yet dominated. As such, it could be bargained with by those it found worthy.

Yet, no power came without sacrifice. Either one gave their time, blood, sweat, and tears, or…

They gave something far more precious. And should they betray the covenant placed, the Lightsea would turn on them. Such was a fate worse than death.

No verbal reply returned to Claudius’ ears. Instead, his lips moved on their own as past, present, and future melded, and he spoke to a creature not dissimilar to his benefactor, “Oh, ‘Rose. Oh, ‘Rose. Oh, ‘Rose. I offer myself to your trial.”

Then, the Judge vanished before the eyes of all onlookers, even to Lucius’ gaze that pierced illusions.