It is one in several thousand that possesses any modicum of power. One in a million reaches the requirements for a Judge. In a group of one hundred million, there may not be a single Centurion. Meanwhile, amidst the entirety of the Roman Empire’s many billions, there are only 312 currently.

Above them? We are fortunate to have six Legates in the modern age. There were centuries when we only had the Evening Seraphim and Anomaly 0 to protect us.

Those were dark days, indeed.

* The opener of Historian Weise’s first published piece.

A human whipped a chain of water backward, hauling the tree before him to lowering its unnatural, grinning bark. The moment it bowed its head, Astraeus struck with his Stigmata, warping space and slicing the creature’s neck in twain.

Their enemy quickly fell, but more replaced it. There was always more. Slowly, the fatigue settled in, and his arms were slower, his legs filled with lead. The prickling in his mind stabbed painfully, a warning that he had used too much of his Tide.

None of those were what stopped him from fighting. No. It was that Hana was getting closer. At this point, he thought she was rushing through the enemies, an unstoppable wave of force.

Dante stopped for a split second, weighing his own hands and the strength left within them. Could he make it to the rift? Yea—

Trust nothing.

A forgotten thought woke Dante as if from a slumber. His eyes widened, and though the illusions remained, he knew they were there. The trees weren’t real, no matter how they looked.

No one had died to them. Not a single Anathema. The only way they had been killed was... Hana. Like a lightning bolt struck him, Dante found an answer.

She was immune and taking advantage of the Inferose. Despite his realization, the illusory teeth continued to sink into his mind. No matter how he placed himself, they were impossible to extricate from himself.

But Hana was just a few feet away. She was on the other side of the horde, thou—

“Duck!” Dante screamed to his partner. Through their months together, Astraeus obeyed without hesitation, even through his own madness. The Anathema hit the dirt, not the sand that Dante once saw, and escaped a certain death.

The human shook his head, the fingers of the Inferose digging deeper, forcing aside his thoughts. He had grown attached to the feeling of quiet slaughter. Of one kill after another. It was all so simple.

He... he was terrified of what it led to. Dante was a man easily addicted. He loved his routines and the familiarity of the things he knew. Rarely would he ever eat something new or try out a new weapon.

He stuck to what he knew.

What did Dante know best? Pain.

With a squeeze of his revolver’s grip, Dante twisted his wrist and fired.

A bullet sailed through the air, blowing straight through the human’s right foot and splattering blood all over. His balance immediately stumbled, and agony escalated violently throughout his body, that of a tipping point.

Dante’s mind screamed from his Tide, and his body howled with the loss of flesh and muscle. However, the man had sought such a thing.

While all others panicked or trembled in the face of torture, isolation, or certain death, a human’s heart sped up. For most, it was the simple case of adrenaline ignoring all else in the case of now’s survival, but Dante was different. Time slowed while his mind sharpened, and he escaped the illusion through the whetstone of burning nerves.

An open field was all that was left to his eyes. The distant Anathemas he had thought were still alive and fighting for the rift were now dead. Every last one of them.

And their blood?

It followed Hana’s footprints like a flood led around by levees.

To his right, Claudius was there alongside his crew. They were swinging wildly, killing imaginary creatures and exhausting themselves. Behind him, his own crew rushed to catch up. Somehow, they had made it this far.

Only, they were missing the Martian, though none seemed to notice in their madness. Still, they were close. Just a little away. He hadn’t seen them before through the horde surrounding Astraeus and him.

To Dante’s left grinned a terrible woman. Water coated her flesh, shielding her from any attack, and distorted that damned smile. Astraeus fought for both of them against the illusions while the human stood back and met Hana’s gaze.

He spoke first, “You knew this would come?”

The Anathema shrugged, answering simply, “No, but the best place for a massacre is a gathering of psychos. Easy to divert blame.”

Despite the fire searing his veins, rising from his feet, and descending from his skull, Dante’s world calmed. With a mere glimpse at this woman, he knew he wasn’t her match. He knew he wouldn’t even be able to hold her off for more than a moment without some trick.

Nevertheless, something within Dante told him otherwise. It said that he was special. Amongst all these people, these inhuman creatures, these... monsters...

Dante had one aspect over all of them, besides Hana, of course. It was something they had in common.

They could see the truth of this world. Not just what the Inferose offered but the absolute, genuine truth.

He shifted his gaze toward the rift, “What is the Inferose, really?” his question was honest yet naïve, but he knew he would get an answer.

And he did without frills or laughs, “It is the dreams of the living. It is their hope. It is their fear. These minor dimensions... all come from some unconscious impact on reality from its inhabitants. This one? It’s got three or so, but its core is Evolution, birthed by the boiling wars to come,” as Hana spoke, her oceanic eyes turned back to Dante. “It is a precursor. A lit match for the coming age. That is why I must have it.”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

The human nodded, understanding her ambition. She was much like him. Hana didn’t have to say it, but he could see the weight of her gaze. She had been through much.

Hana wasn’t like Astraeus, born with a golden spoon and gifted incredible techniques and an equally impossible Stigmata. Her power came from her skill with her Tide and that alone. The sole rifle of Hydro she held in her hands that nearly killed Astraeus was a masterpiece in his eyes.

The guns that swam around her proved that she was willing to steal anything she had to survive. Sentients? Other Dirge? Mystical dimensions? She didn’t care. She would do anything she had to in order to survive.

He had seen that in their first meeting. Only now did he see it clearly. They were the same. Only the woman had more time, and he had less.

Dante was at a disadvantage, just like always. He settled into it nicely, speaking softly as his body vibrated with barely endured exhaustion, “I see. Well, I’m afraid you can’t have it. I took the job.”

Hana giggled like rippling water, lifting a hand to her lips amongst the maddened calmness. She knew she would win and was not afraid to admit it, “Oh, is that so? I can’t say I’m so scared. Because this isn’t a job for me. This is my future.”

Dante’s head jostled while his fingers contorted into a tangled knot. Then, he raised the hand toward Hana with a finger gun, only the two fingers of the barrel were wrapped around each other.

In his peripheral vision, Dante saw his crew fighting for their lives as he took a deep breath. They wouldn’t make it in time. Astraeus couldn’t break out of the illusions on his own. Just calling out to him only worked with minor things.

Hana knew that. So, she would just save the Frigo for later. Instead, she would kill the single man who was not blind, securing her position.

Even the Judge's Jury seemed helpless under the onslaught.

Certain death. That was all Dante saw. But he felt so much more. At this very moment, he felt...

The air entered his lungs. And he tasted its staleness. It was... enjoyable through the heat. With the feverous condition, he recalled Astraeus’ words when they first met.

Dante had been asked if he wished to die. Back then, he was unsure. But now he knew truly.

He had wanted to die. More than that, he had wished he had died long ago. So why didn’t he? Why didn’t he just end it years prior?

Because Dante Penance wasn’t a man who could die that way. That is what he believed, deep down, that he was better than the cards dealt. His mother died in childbirth, his brother went to a gang beatdown, and his father vanished without a word after years of abuse. By all depths, he had no right to be so prideful.

And yet he was. It was his grandest and most powerful sin.

“You misunderstand me, Hana. This is not only a job for me. Who would hire me in the future if I failed? No one likes humans. If I ever fail just once... it’s over. People only follow me for what I can do for them,” Dante’s voice held no hitches or fear. He was utterly accepting of who he was.

Hana squinted, not entirely understanding but humoring the dead in her sights, “If you fail once? Are you saying you’ve never failed before?”

Dante nodded toward Astraeus, “Once, but the Lightsea ruined the record. I’m a different man now. I’ll let you live if you stand down.”

A resounding fit of laughter broke through the din of madness, echoing across the plain. Hana nearly buckled over, lowering the barrel of her rifle. Unable to even look at the human, she mocked him, “You... you’re the most arrogant, prideful, and overconfident man I’ve ever met!”

In response, Dante only nodded.

With his acknowledgment, a being whispered in his ear, “Yes. You see it now. But you cannot kill her. Retreat. The Praetor is about to descend.”

Judas spoke for the first time in many weeks. He spoke of caution, of survival, of an authentic concern. But it was not worry for Dante’s life, it was some other, more conceited perspective.

The planet shook as if on cue, and dust exploded into the distant atmosphere. The Caesars were fighting. Maybe they were all against Praetor Sun. Perhaps they weren’t.

Who knew?

Did it matter to him? Truly?

No. None of them would be on his side in the end.

He had his crew. They were behind him. They had proven themselves.

As he ripped the power from the Lightsea, water burst from Dante’s soul, and he concentrated the blast beyond his imagination. His mind was so honed, so stressed at that moment that it was the most brilliant engine of change.

The cutting stream of Hydro flew straight for Hana’s doubled-over back, but it wasn’t enough. The guns behind her fired simultaneously, and the two dozen bullets broke through his piercing Tide. They passed his waves and struck his outstretched arm, nearly blowing it off his shoulder.

Dante fell back with a fountain of blood emerging from his veins opened to the air, staggering to Hana’s words, “It must just be a fluke that you can see through it, then.”

Then, Hana moved to kill, staring straight at the human. A barrage of water flew toward the human, each missile moving with the force of a fifty caliber's weight.

Dante was swiftly blown to bits by the hundred rounds before a cloud of dirt ascended from where his corpse fell. At least, that was what Hana believed.

A bolt of water flew straight past Hana, missing her entirely, while Dante, stumbling through the smoky brownness, emerged unharmed. Both shock and bewilderment encompassed the Anathema’s face. She couldn’t believe his healing was that effective, yet his aim was that terrible.

“You...” Hana trailed off before catching her words, “Are most peculiar. But that doesn’t matter if you miss half the time.”

Her opponent grinned, his clothes utterly unharmed and his condition marred only by fatigue. Then, he murmured, “I missed? I don’t think so.”

Hana heard the words too little too late, for another set had already fallen into reality. A Dirge had been awoken from his madness with a hole in his chest. The pain from such a small wound would last a mere instant to the Anathema, but he knew Dante's tricks. Astraeus didn’t wait a second before joining his partner in the battle of their lives, for the single round did little to his clotting snow.

“Domain Collapse: Inverted Palace.“

The horrifying palace that Dante had dreamt nightmares of rose behind Hana, sealing away her access to the Lightsea. It grew slightly physical, like a condensed fog in the air, Astraeus' mastery rising as the earth shifted around them. The weapons above her now possessed limited ammunition, no longer renewable.

Dante had wanted them to be made before the Domain collapsed, and this was perfect. She would have to waste some energy to change the weapons into another form. It might not have been much, but every little drop counted when one had no liquid to quench their thirst.

Hana’s disposition shifted instantly now that she stood between two enemies. On their own, they were no threat. She wouldn’t have cared a minute ago, even if there were two. As she reached for more droplets, she noticed nothing to be within reach. All the Lightsea’s droplets redirected to Astraeus, shifting the gears in her mind as realized she had been tricked.

The Dirge wasn’t weak like the rest of the Anathema here. He wasn’t like Zed with incredible techniques, either. He also wasn’t like Melody, whose Stigmata perfectly integrated with her fighting style, though his was formidable. Astraeus’ danger came from his potential.

A Dirge, less than a year old, possessing a Domain Collapse? She saw the way it focused his blurred eyes, dismissing the Inferose's claim on his mind.

Hana shivered, then she lifted her hands toward her chest. She aimed to create a triangle of sorts, ignoring Dante rushing toward her. She neglected Astraeus, too, knowing her Armory could defend her temporarily.

Bullets let loose, hitting everything that came near, only...

That included a small, unwieldy, metallic object.

She sensed the danger an instant too late, and the bomb, handcrafted by Dante, detonated mere feet from her fate. The Dirge spiraled away, bouncing off the ground and landing on her stomach. Blood seeped below her, and the duo rushed after her.

Dante shared a look with Astraeus, both already wounded and tired, but they understood what they had to do. She had to die fast. They couldn’t play the long game. Otherwise, they may bleed out, and that wasn’t to mention the new arrivals.

Space cleaved toward Hana, yet she rolled out of the way just in the nick of time. Her Armory pointed toward the duo and fired, but a wall of snow formed, blocking much of the damage. Where Cryo held the greatest offense, Frigo boasted the densest defense. Nonetheless, Hana's sheer power of Hydro still broke through. The slowed projectiles that pierced it, lacking much of their momentum, were dodged this time.

Again, Hana reached for her chest, nearly placing her fingers together before another bomb hurtled toward her face. With a knowing glance, she deftly maneuvered out of harm’s way.

The bomb flew right past her, slamming into the ground. Then, a heat wave enveloped her from behind, sending Hana tumbling straight for Astraeus.

Dante retrieved his final explosive while Astraeus slashed Hana through her midsection. As space fractured beyond his fingertips, the woman’s chest became translucent.

It became water.

With a flicker of energy, she reformed on the other side of him, missing one arm. Instead, a cannon of that very same water floated where there was once her right hand.

Her Stigmata!

Dante saw her trick before the barrel shifted to face him. Hana could turn parts of herself into water. The human had only a fraction of a second to prepare himself before a charge detonated toward his body.

Again, time felt sluggish as the round tore through the air. It was just plain water, but a mind had shaped it into a weapon of death. Of course, she would have an ace up her sleeve.

Hana was called the strongest Anathema in the Wings.

And what did Dante have to counter it?

His augments screeched in horror as he flopped backward, tossing the bomb in between himself and the projectile. Dante didn’t even have time to raise his arms in defense before the heat devoured him.

Astraeus glanced at the cloud of black smoke before shifting his gaze back to the wounded Hana. She was missing an arm now, wasting the entire arm for one lethal attack. He rushed for Hana but halted as he felt another presence enter his Domain.

It was a woman sopping with water. She tsked as she entered, shaking her head at Hana, “Hana. Hana. Hana. How many times have we talked about this? You can’t leave me out of all the fun!”

A Miro. They would be the least affected by my Domain’s effect.

Astraeus made quick observations, raising his hands as he knew Dante was either dead or close to it. He would be alone for this.

Hana growled out an offer through gritted teeth, standing wearily between the two, “Melody, you help me; we fight for the Inferose at the end. After Balba or whoever else escaped.”

A long grin shattered Astraeus’ slim hope that Melody, the Humming Songbird, was here for the Inferose over anything else. She was here under the orders of no one but her own, simply to sow chaos.

Melody hummed, just as her title spoke of, “Oooh. That sounds like fun. I—”

“Shut. Up.”

But a voice cut through the settling smoke, and a man rose from the dirt. Blood covered the entirety of where the cloud spread, but the human that stretched to his full height was, again, uninjured.

Through the smoke, Dante couldn’t see anything. He could hardly hear a single word, but they all beat into his skull like an implanted bass drum. Through those noises, he heard a rushing pair of footsteps, that of a crazed man.

Dante’s mind was scarcely holding itself together due to the strain of several repeated uses of his Stigmata. The ability’s might was undeniable, but it exacted a terrible toll. His thoughts were mere threads bound solely by the needles that ripped them apart.

Still, he raised his shivering, trembling forefinger and pointed it toward Melody as he recognized those burly footsteps. He had spent a year listening to them cause a ruckus in the mess hall, after all.

He ordered his oldest friend to kill the newest arrival with two short words, “Rejo. Kill.”