Southern Region of the Deadlands: 936, December 31st, Monday, 3:30 AM.
“Urk!” Sebastian’s feet shook underneath him, forcing an abrupt halt to his hunt for The Golden Lightning.
The violent quake traveled all over the south while announcing its approach with a fearsome growl that resembled a hungry beast, making rocks and dust dance a few inches above the dirt due to its powerful strength. Despite its frightening magnitude, the tremor consistently faded with every passing second, and eventually reached its climax with a soft whisper.
Now able to catch his balance, the major rested both hands on his knees before sighing with relief, wondering about the culprit behind such an aggressive reaction of the region. “Could’ve been that thing miss Atalanta was chasing after?” he whispered, huffing through his nose before standing firmly.
“It most certainly was,” a young man replied to his question, resonating in Sebastian’s ear.
“Sovereign?”
“How are things on your end?”
“I haven’t caught up to miss Atalanta yet…” the major reported. “She probably put a stop to that thing in the sky just now… have you escaped the castle yet?”
“I have not.”
“What? Where you intercepted?”
“I was… the old champion from the order proved quite knowledgeable when traversing the Deadlands.” Though his claims were crucial to both his and the major’s safety, Sovereign’s voice did not reveal even a hint of worry in them. “Where are you at the moment?”
“I’m nearing the center, and I’m sure miss Atalanta is on her way to you as well. Don’t worry… I’ll stop her.” The young voice inside the major’s head huffed a chuckle, making him raise an eyebrow in response.
“You’ve done enough… buddy.” Sovereign replied.
It felt more or less a common response from the man he had known for over half a decade, yet the strange chills that crawled down Sebastian’s spine did not allow him to ignore the tone in his voice. The major felt restless, as if being stalked by a dangerous spirit during a cold night inside a haunted house. Sweat rolled down his forehead as he pressed his teeth together, frowning with both worry and confusion.
“Are you sure? You said Loki was there with you.” He told the voice in his head.
“He is… everything is going exactly as I thought it would.”
“You are…” Uncertainty grew in the major’s face at the quick reply from Specter, finding himself almost out of words at the revelation. “Ninigi should’ve brought those memories…”
A quick chuckle escaped the young man, amused by the little game he’s created. “And he did… leave it to the champion to seal Specter back into his own memories.”
“Then… how are you back?”
“Back? I never left, Sebastian.”
“…!” the major’s eyes widened, and the cold sweat running down his face only grew in volume the longer their conversation stretched. “But you said…”
“I am Specter, and so is he... Sovereign.” the young man continued. “One and the same, with distinct memories to guide them.” another quick chuckle left his lips. “All did… was to make sure that the correct resurfaced after my battle with the champion.”
“…Where is Sovereign?”
“I am Sovereign.”
His mind full of question, Sebastian could feel a strong migraine brew within him as he gently placed one hand in his forehead. He proceeded to wipe the sweat from his face before exhaling through pursed lips, questioning the god even further in an attempt to reach his old friend.
“You mean… you’ve always been here?”
“Not exactly, no.” the god proceeded. “When K… that woman died… my mental state deteriorated to a point where my memories became unstable. At that moment, ages worth of experience as the god Specter overwhelmed the couple of decades I’ve been living as Loewe, or Sovereign if you want to see it that way.” He explained, continuing to calmly clarify the situation to the major. “It would’ve been foolish of me not to take advantage of all that knowledge… so, I decided to separate them into a different memory region, one that would remain hidden from even myself. Then all I had to do was wait for them to flow back into me… every minute I slumbered, more and more of them awakened.”
“You took over his memories…”
“If that’s how you want to see it… we are the same person after all.” Sovereign stated with confidence. “All I’m going to tell you is… that you have not spoken to your good old friend in quite a long… long time.” The satisfaction behind his claim was quite evident by the tone of his voice, indulging in the moment as every word of his served to disturb Sebastian’s mind. “Unless you still consider me a friend that is… regardless how impossible that may be.”
Rage and fear both took over the major’s expression, anger by the sudden reveal of Specter’s deceit, and concerned for the safety of his daughter—whose well-being he chose to leave in the god’s hands. His blind trust in the words of a friend had left him without a clear path to follow, as everything he was told after Yeon’s death was put into question. Sebastian’s head spun rapidly in search for answers he couldn’t find, deciding to rely on the source itself instead.
“What is the point of this?” he asked. “Why allow Loki inside the castle?”
“Because I’ve been trapped in here for far too long,” replied Sovereign. “A gladean knight can kill even a god, sure… but I am human, and regardless of how I die, the only thing that will be destroyed… is my body.” He explained, and though Sebastian could not see his expression, a wide grin was clearly plastered in the man’s face. “Speaking human language to the specters makes everything a little too complicated for me you see… so, I decided to implement some of my old tactics instead. I feel like the champion was somewhat suspicious about this… might be why he was so reluctant in ending my life, at least more than usual. Well, who cares? There is another one willing to do the job.”
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“You forget I know where your core is,” Sebastian announced as a threat.
“Do you?”
“…”
Silence reigned over the south for nearly half a minute, with not even the traveling winds of the Deadlands emitting the faintest of sounds. The major clenched his jaw with twitching brows, yet through foggy thoughts and confusion, the realization of what his objective had always been became clear. To protect his friend, even if it was just the body, Sovereign could not die before the end of 936.
“Where to with such haste?” the young man spoke in his ear.
“Tell me one thing…” the major spoke in a threatening voice, keeping his heavy voice low with a growl. “Is my daughter safe? Because if you’ve—”
“Nothing’s happened to her. I have more important things to deal with.”
“You said she did something before… was it you too?”
“Heh…” the god chuckled at Sebastian’s implications. “To tell you the truth… I’m not even sure myself. While her actions had frozen activity in the Deadlands for the most part, this allows me to have further control of what happens within… just ask The Golden Lightning.” He calmly explained. “Still, what she did managed to knock me out for a few minutes, and if there’s something I’m not fond of… it’s being left in the dark.”
Northern Region of the Deadlands: 936, December 31st, Monday, 3:30 AM.
Inside a large tent in the middle of the barren lands of the hellish zone, arranged with multiple portable chairs, foldable tables, and oil lanterns, Bloodhound crouched in one knee alongside a few high officers from Cerberus—holding tightly to whatever they could cling to. Most of them surrounded one of the tables with a large map in the middle, placed next to a small radio used to communicate with headquarters.
“What the hell was that?” Eric asked.
Tori remained glued to Claire by hugging her arm, keeping her eyes shut with fear as she spoke. “I... is it… over?”
“It’s fine,” the lieutenant said, helping the young redhead to stand as she picked herself up as well. “It was just an earthquake.”
“Yeah… just another one…” Scott joined the conversation, balancing his glasses in one finger as they almost dropped to the ground. “Man… what is going on out here?”
“This can’t be!” an older man slammed his fists on the table with an angry frown, getting the attention of the group, and every soldier inside the tent. He wore the white and gold uniform of the company, exhibiting a few medals in his vest to display his superior rank among the troops. “We lost communication with headquarters again...” He whispered.
“B-but we didn’t get to speak with the boss,” Tori said.
“That may be the case… but your orders had been issued to me before your arrival.” He replied, directing his eyes towards Claire. “Arwen wants you and your squad back at headquarters, lieutenant. He thinks your presence is no longer necessary due to low specter activity in the Deadlands.”
Displeased with Arwen’s judgment, the lieutenant frowned and crossed her arms while meeting the old eyes of Cerberus’ experienced general—proceeding to voice her disagreement with the decision. “With the recent ambushes we’ve suffered, the strange rumblings and strong earthquakes striking the region…” she began to protest. “I believe it is safe to assume that things have hardly calmed down in the Deadlands, sir. A better option would be t—”
“With all due respect, lieutenant.” The old man interrupted. “You may be the ace of the company with those weapons you carry, but strategy and logistics behind every operation are done by the head of the company and his most experienced officers. Your orders are for you and your team to return, prepare a vehicle and head back to HQ immediately.”
“I spoke out of line, sir.” Claire lowered her head with a humble bow. “I apologize.”
A corner in Eric’s lips raised at the lieutenant’s response, baring his fang with a frustrated expression. “Why are you just accepting that?” he asked. “He is clearly inferior to you when it comes to skill and experience. None of them have fought the specters like you have… if anyone should have a say in how to proceed, it should be you.”
“Eric Albury…” the old general spoke. “I thought a noble from the empire would be familiar with the rules and hierarchy of a strong military, especially one that carries the name of the Alburies.”
“Hmph!” scoffed the noble with crossed arms, snapping back at the old general of Cerberus. “Our army is based on merit and actions taken in the battlefield. I can guarantee you that my actions have already done more for your company than you ever will in your career. Mine…” he looked at Claire, who stared daggers at him for fighting back against her superiors. “And hers too,” the noble concluded while averting his eyes from the glaring ambers of the lieutenant.
Unhappy with Eric’s response, the general turned towards the head of Bloodhound to command her leave—offering a few more words to her before seeing them all off. “You better work in your team’s discipline, lieutenant. Dismissed.”
“Sir!”
Emerging from inside the large tent and back into Cerberus’ improvised safety camp, Claire sighed with frustration at both her orders and the noble’s daring intrusion before addressing the noble’s behavior with scrunched brows. “You couldn’t have just stayed quiet?” She scolded him.
Not pleased by her reaction, the noble pressed his lips together and narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t deserve that treatment,” he told her. “If someone would know what’s best for everyone’s safety, is you. I don’t trust any of these people to make the right choice.”
“He is right, lieutenant!” Tori intervened with bumped fist, stepping closer to Claire. “Though I don’t want to go against the boss’ orders etiher…”
With a quick nod and a smirk, Scott pushed the bridge of his glasses in agreement with his teammates. “Yep, we’ve been through a lot together, and you always manage to get us out of the worst situations.” He told her. “Don’t get me wrong, I do respect the boss. He has treated us well all this time, but you are the one we follow, lieutenant.”
“Scott…” Claire replied with raised brows.
We are all in the dark on what is actually happening,” Eric spoke once again. “But you have more insight about the Deadlands and the specters than anyone I’ve ever known. You can even control some of them with your gear… ignoring your input in this operation is simply ignorant.”
“…” Incapable of disagreeing with the noble’s words, the lieutenant simply furrowed her brows while averting her eyes from the group. Her heart throbbed at the thought of acting against the hierarchy she’d follow diligently throughout the years, yet in the words of Bloodhound she could only find truth. “I don’t…”
Understanding the girl’s feelings, the noble ceased to insist by shaking his head slowly with a sigh—moving forward with the subject instead. “Forget it… what’s our next move?”
“I guess we should retreat now, but…” though feeling a sense of guilt by letting her team down, a sudden thought by remembering Eric’s recent words crossed Claire’s mind in an instant. “Control some of them…” she whispered.
“Lieutenant?” noticing the girl’s pensive eyes, Tori stepped in closer while calling to her—bringing Claire back to her senses.
“We need to talk,” she told Bloodhound, proceeding to scan the outpost with her eyes—spotting the large number officers that patrolled every corner of the area. “Scott, go get us a vehicle. Tori, Eric, you wait with me here. I want us all to discuss this in private.”
“Ma’am!”
END OF CHAPTER