They arrived later than expected, but that didn’t stop Violet from barreling right ahead.
Their journey there was characterised, surprisingly, not by warfare, but by bodies. Hundreds and hundreds of bodies, painting a sea of gold all across the aptly named Hell’s Floor. They were haunting waters to sail, or so to speak, and Violet couldn't help but get the impression they were following the trail of some abominable creature. A bloodlusted specimen with an insatiable hunger for Ichor.
But at least they didn’t run into any major conflicts. Memories of their last run-in with two warring clans did not bode well. Violet’s arm seemed to go numb at the thought of it.
Many of the bases within this ruin of a battlefield took on bizarre defences. Some were dug miles below, so it was like trekking down a mountainside to arrive. This alone was enough to discourage many would-be attackers, but the rest of the clans — the most reasonable out of an insane bunch of people — merely erected great barricades. Sheer walls of pure metal where you would stick out like a fly scaling a window pane.
The Chaos Clan would scoff at the both of these.
Rising high into view, the great manor had absolutely no defences at all. Similar in style to the Trickery Clan, only on a substantially grander scale. Maybe there were a few spy Unbounded situated in the great wades of grass that surrounded the place, but sentinels weren’t so easily tossed aside as something for the weak to rely on. Even a thriving community of monstrous Unbounded, plotting the dawn of the apocalypse, couldn’t relent on that front. But then again, perhaps most average clansmen did think that Nova possessed the gall to do so. After all, Violet was only semi-suspicious of the existence of the look-outs because of her insight into the truth — a truth a pitiful few knew about.
All combined, painted the Chaos Clan as an unstoppable, near invincible force. Precisely what the miserable, plotting lot wanted you to think.
A full moon stretched out overhead, like a hole in the ether. She and Remus were sloth to trespass into the moonlit valley, transfixed by the ambient glow of the stars, glittering out like tiny, golden pinpricks. There was no need to go into detail over their plans. Both of them had memorised everything that strangely, it was almost instinctual.
As Remus remained behind to enact his part of the plan, Violet crept forward. Oddly, she was utterly devoid of fear. The thought that she had done everything she could have was comforting. If she died now, at least it was by putting up the good fight.
Being Unbounded as she was, Violet had a close enough relationship with Infinity to notice several large concentrations of the divine resource, all at separated locales. Going off like beacons. These, without a doubt, were the sentinels she had been mulling over earlier.
They were simple enough to avoid, and so she did so. They loped around in unorganised patterns, conveying that they were more animalistic than anything implying intelligence. So weak Unbounded then, Violet mused, tip-toeing forward.
But they didn’t need to be strong. Perhaps, now that Violet thought of it, these were all Projections in themselves. They would all be easy to slay, but doing so would garner the attention of bigger fish.
Of course, she sensed her connection to her own Projections vaguely — the four tiny, barely conscious pods of power she had handed Remus — but they were so flimsy, so incredibly weak by design, that her links may as well have been non-existent. All she could infer was that they were still alive, but nothing more than that.
After a few minutes of simply staring towards a window, hunched down beneath a canopy and waiting for the sentinels to pass, Violet made her move. As a Chaos Clan member in herself, veiling her presence was easy enough. The energy that radiated off a Mark informed you of what kind of clansmen you were dealing with. But it was incredibly difficult to pinpoint one thread of energy, when everyone in the vicinity was gushing out the same kind. That came immensely useful in situations like these. No one would be able to detect Violet’s presence without paying rapt attention. And even then, it would be a difficult task.
Violet erased the reality of the window for all the time it took to dive in. It reappeared promptly behind her without so much as a sound. It was within that bland looking room, scanning from wall to wall with a quick swerve of the eyes, that the weight of the situation truly set in. This chamber alone — ornate in a way that was somehow boring — was not enough to confirm if her maps of the place were true. They had better be, for a substantial chunk of her mind was preoccupied with marshalling the images of the different pathways, trying to recognise her current location. This proved a futile task, and Violet set herself to the immediate situation.
Not a soul was present here, luckily. She’d guessed as much from her observations of the interior from outside. But as Violet had explained before, detecting individual strands of Chaos when this place was dripping with the energy, was tricky. Harder still inside the manor than outside.
She strained her senses in an attempt to detect presences in the next direct rooms, and after some estimation, noticed none.
Violet took a breath, keeping her eyes on a small pocket-watch before shoving it back into a cloak pocket.
Soon, Remus would bring down hell.
Remus’ distraction would help, but there was no reason as to why Violet couldn’t start her advance now. She felt the handle of the nearest door, found it unlocked, and stepped through to the other side.
A long corridor met her, with a trio of chandeliers shaking up above. Strange paintings, abstract and surreal, lined the walls in a collage of colour. Violet ignored them, and slowly, delaying the change so as not to draw attention to herself, transformed into her Unbounded form. Her posture deteriorated, bending near her shoulders so Violet looked like a hunchback. The form’s full size would be too noticeable — she had to be small, as insignificant as the corner of a table. Something you acknowledged but never really paid any mind to.
Shouts, closer than they were distant, rebounded through the mahogany of the walls. Violet had one second to prepare, before the structure of the hall was jeopardised.
Doors that hadn’t been there before appeared from all directions. This didn’t exclude the ceiling and floor, one crystal chandelier vanishing. Violet blinked, and a myriad of forms swarmed out of the black pits.
Some Unbounded suited the human appearance of a Chaos Clansman’s body, whereas the others were rapidly altering into one. Clearly, they planned to storm Remus in human ruse. It wouldn’t be wise to leave themselves unveiled, out in the open.
Ignoring them all, Violet launched herself into the gaping gap below. None of the Unbounded bidded an eye at her. She blended in perfectly.
The descent was surprisingly long. A pain thudded through Violet’s feet as a small bedroom expanded around her. Her eyes gazed along the white quilt, the pillow choking with feathers, and the bedframe far too small for most Unbounded.
She froze for a moment, the gap above closing up, as her heart throbbed with nostalgia. Being the daughter of Nova, Violet had seen her fair share of travel amongst their central bases. It was in beds like these that she had seen many of the lesser clansmen and trainees sleep.
Back then, Nova had been a better father than she could have ever asked for. He had been busy, sure, as busy as any sect-leader is. Yet, no matter how large the stack of paperwork on his desk was, how long he had to spend in arduous meetings consulting other Godlings and God-Graced, he would always drop everything for a few special hours at the end of the day. A short, precious time laughing merrily along with his children.
Now that was all gone. His body robbed; a walking, talking, reanimated husk. It made Violet sick to her stomach.
And all the more keen to kick this place into the depths of hell.
Violet began to pick up her pace, before inexorably, she gave into the urge to clamber forwards on all fours. It was a fierce run, but Violet couldn’t afford to waste time. Remus hadn’t crushed one of her Projections yet, but no-one could stand up to a battalion of Unbounded, solo, for long.
Soon, he would be becoming more and more reliant on her ability to transport him out of sticky situations. But that game wouldn’t last long. This mission wasn’t designed to stretch on for any prolonged period of time; she had to act quickly.
It may have been the distortion the Unbounded were unleashing upon the manor as Violet barrelled deeper and deeper into their private base, but in no way did this place resemble her plans. Had the Trickery Clan lied? No, they didn’t operate like that. Their predictions, then, must have been false. The most important fifty-fifty chance in the world, and Violet’s luck couldn’t pull through. Typical.
Violet knew, when she entered a blank, cubed chamber that the act was up. They had found her.
Spikes clawed out of the perpendicular walls, like talons scraping through paper. Violet activated her Mark as panic slapped her across the face, and it took all she had to delay the oncoming assault. The advancing caw of the spikes was enough to put anybody on edge. In her Unbounded form, Violet’s every action was imbued with Infinity. One jump, and she flew out of that chamber. The next was no better.
She came to a staggering stop, grasping the outlines of the door, as a chasm bore down below her. Chilly air whistled up from those unfathomable depths, and for a distinct moment, Violet was sure she could make out a clicking noise, rebounding across the pillar-shaped cavity, and smacking against her eardrums with deafening volume. Like a crab clicking its claws.
Violet flexed her will, and yet another depression formed to her right. She leapt through it. Inevitably, Remus called her for help. Like the snapping of a string in her mind, she felt a pang of visceral empathy as the Projection perished.
Meanwhile, with growing speed, a mass from behind pulled itself out of the depression’s hidden depths. There was no lighting in the cave, so Violet could hardly make out the aggressor at all. But it was large. Large, and charging forward with growing speed.
Multitasking wasn’t efficient, but very doable. Violet surged her Mark in a blaze of neon purple, concentrating on the whereabouts of her Projection. Sending energy towards Projections was a clumsy process — it diluted the energy you sent, wasting resources, and it was a bother to target your lesser part. Otherwise, Projections would be glorified extensions of yourself. And that would be a fearsome power indeed. More often than not, the cost of sending power was not worth it.
Yet Violet transported Remus in a copious surge of her Mark anyway. This was another reason to be swift. Besides the fact the entire mansion of hideous fiends had just discovered the nature of their invasion, and the enemy on her tail, her resources were diminishing by the minute.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
He would be safe, for now. Violet couldn’t have sent him far with so much strain, but hopefully it was enough to avoid dying outright.
A screeching from behind, and Violet’s reverie was torn to shreds. Shortcut after shortcut she opened and closed, trying to lose her assailant, but they kept at it. Reopening every closure she made, or simply bashing through the cavern as she dashed down nondescript halls.
They must have a Chaos Mark then, it occurred to her, breathing deep of the Infinity around even as a throng of monsters drank the atmosphere dry. If they could manipulate reality like her, this wasn’t some lone Unbounded on the level of a Snow Wolf.
Fleeing was useless. She would have to make short work of this attacker before even more arrived.
The aura of a peak Foot-Soldier flooded over her, and a gangly, drooping beast with a score of limp arms charged forwards. Each of its palms widened, revealing a yellow, infected-looking eye gazing upon her soul.
Infinity gathered into each of them, shooting out towards her as deadly lasers.
Violet teleported behind the fiend, still in Unbounded form, and kicked into its side.
It came crashing ahead, skittering along to where a rift appeared directly above. Violet thrusted her fists down upon a matching tear in the space below her. Her blow cheated past the length of the tunnel to come crashing down on its head, circumventing their few feet of distance. That should have been enough to give a lesser Emblazed a concussion.
Instead, the beast merely shrieked. With impossible grip-strength, each of its palms implanted into the rock of the tunnel. As if defying gravity, the Unbounded blasted forwards in loops of motion across the tunnel’s curvature. Forming a helix pattern as it went.
Violet was quick on its tail.
Tugging on the reserves of her Mark, she skidded ahead, jolting through space every second step. With the technique’s help, her fist was pounding against the Unbounded in the time it took to inhale. Again and again she struck, the creature’s squeals only growing more nonsensical. Fingers split, nails fell off, and Infinity dispersed off the bundle in leaking drifts.
And all the while, that irritating clicking didn’t cease. In fact, Violet was certain it was becoming louder.
Sheer disgust made Violet’s features tighten. Without thinking, forgoing any basic awareness, the incessant din became less illogical to her ears than it was understandable. Scratches became syllables, and the Unbounded’s pleas — all the more pathetic in its own tongue — were crystal clear. It was like listening to a tune you’d blocked out all your life; a melody so familiar, yet so foreign at the same time.
Similar sounds came out of Violet’s own mouth. It was either a thank-you or a highly offensive insult, not referring to the Unbounded’s mother in a positive light.
Like inhaling deeply, Violet consumed the Unbounded of all it had.
This wouldn’t have been possible for any average mortal. It wasn’t a matter of simply channelling the Infinity into yourself, like you would from the immediate atmosphere when recharging your reserves. Only her special circumstances as an Unbounded allowed her to bring the creature into herself — so, instead of sipping on the drabs of Infinity that poured out of it, Violet, in a sense, ate the creature. Unbounded bonding with Unbounded.
There was no time to sit idly. Making haste, Violet rearranged the manor around her. She made it out of the cavern, into three deeper, cellar-like rooms, before an influx of wills oppressed against her own.
She staggered to a stop, feeling heavy from her freshest intake of Infinity. Chains hung from the walls of this quaint chamber, with a stack of barrels squeezed into a corner. Shunning the inclination to engorge herself on whatever liquor was inside, Violet braced herself as yet more Unbounded rushed closer in.
Violet didn’t have time to marvel at how quickly one devoured Unbounded could revitalise her. Nor did she have the breathing room to consider her ability to speak the Unbounded tongue — yet another way she was like these freakish devils. But the benefits did much to appease her: cuts knitted together, bruises faded, and the amounting fatigue diminished.
Like advancing bonfires, the Chaotic energy engulfing Violet was overwhelming. She had all the time to brace herself, before the room itself turned on her.
Squirming flesh sprang out of every surface in grotesque distortions, growling towards her. Bubbling boils of violent, warm colours riddled the enclosing tissue, and Violet felt oncoming sickness putting her oesophagus into a frenzy. The room itself was an Unbounded. It was as plain as day, and like a rabbit lodged between a fox’s jaws, she had been caught whole.
Never before had being in the belly of the beast been so literal.
It was at times like this where Violet regretted her lack of weaponry. But, at least, she could always rely on the most universal weapon of all: Infinity. Her form feasted on the Infinity reserves she sent rushing towards it, having finally ‘digested’ the Unbounded of many hands. Claws elongated at the end of her ashy white fingers. With a screech, she raked the oversized nails across the gory substance.
The unbounded squealed, but Violet didn’t relent. The flesh concentrated where she stuck, becoming tougher, almost shell-like. For an entire minute she scraped and scraped, but despite this, the Unbounded was clearly a tier above her.
Her Mark flourished, and lightning the eerie shade of magenta crackled inside of the beast. Violet jolted from location to location, slashing at the stretched tissue before it could decide which portion to protect.
Every drop of Infinity she cut free instantly became one with her. Violet allowed her form to extend in size, before becoming a lumbering giant shooting into the roof. Dust, various distorted organs, and a vicious outpour of blood neither red nor the familiar gold of Ichor splattered.
The Unbounded crumpled beneath her onslaught. Violet devoured the beast as she fought, wrestling with its primaeval will to survive. She vaguely registered the fact the room was falling, dislocated from its positioning in what felt like a grand descent. One well-aimed blow to the floor, and the entire room capsized like a ship slamming helplessly into the depths.
Debris sprinkled into a grand hall, and Violet teleported just right of the drop. The creature flailed, gravity’s latest victim.
Already, another beast was upon her.
The mound of limbs, organs, and stretched tissue salivated at the sight of her. Remus’ descriptions, whilst sometimes hard to believe, told her all she needed to know.
This specimen had killed Hansley. Chewed away at her lifeless body like it was an afternoon snack. Violet snarled, plotting out exactly how she was going to make the vermin pay.
Several things proceeded to occur all at once. The two weren’t alone in the room — an entire squadron of human-looking Unbounded froze at the sight of her. Cloaks and basic mortal appeal clung to all of them uniformly, their faces like hollow masks. Masks in the fact she recognised each and every one of them in bittersweet reminiscence. Hollow in the empty way they bore into her. Mannequins fitted with only the motives to fill out their mission; gladiators enacting the will of the cosmos. Nature made into the things of nightmares.
Amil, Jacan, Lowell, Raven. All dead. Or the next best thing to it. Their bodies were being used like dolls, and the thought made Violet screech. She hadn’t known any of them particularly well before they had been taken over, but nobody deserved this. People were people.
White husks, exactly like her strand of Unbounded, emerged from the mortal fronts. Like a spring rebounding forward. Good, Violet thought, anger seething. These she could tear apart, the false images of her past clansmen earning her no guilt. They’re simulacrums, nothing more.
Two scores of Unbounded, all coming for her flesh. Surely, the stronger Unbounded were preoccupied by the blazing fires far above, but nevertheless, Remus' side of the mission wasn’t going very successfully, was it?
Speak of the devil . . . a mental jolt, and Violet received yet another signal from the man. He appeared to be in a spot of trouble.
Fissures spread across the tiled flooring. To Violet’s dismay, the side windows showed her nothing but a blur progressing upwards. All of these Unbounded were trying to drag her back to surface level, undoing all the work she had put in to penetrate this far into the base. Their Marks were illuminated in synchrony, demanding reality to push them back.
There was only one thing for it: slaughtering the fiends before they could.
As Violet charged forwards, the mysteries of Akuji were all she could think of. The same could have been said for every fleeting moment of her life. When she ate, she could see the visage of Nova reflecting back at her. When Violet woke up in the morning, the plots of the Unbounded were her immediate thought. And when her head hit the pillow, it was the last. She couldn’t walk, train, speak, breathe or do so much as think, without the weight of her ignorance keeping her in a chokehold. One man was the difference between her perpetual naivety; the antidote to a lifetime of enquiries.
She would get to that man if it killed her. Purple light flooded around Violet, and in a hasty breath, it began.
----------------------------------------
Maybe Elmore was just bad at reading plans, but he couldn’t recall anywhere in Donovan’s schemes where the manor being up in flames was mentioned.
Ash did a low whistle, by his side with the rest of the party on top of a small knoll. He planted his hands firmly on either hip in a satisfied gesture. “Looks like our job here is done.”
An elbow from Koa shut him up. “Now this changes things . . . are we sticking to the original plan?”
Stony-faced as always, Donovan sat hunched on the edge of the hill. “There’s someone down there.” He said simply. “Looks like we’ve interrupted somebody’s assault.”
Elmore felt his arms hang limply, despair overcoming him. They’d come all this way, only to be interrupted at the last leg. “We might have to wait a few days for this to blow over. Damn it — what are the chances?”
Silence took hold of the group. For a second of deliberation, they all remained as they were, heads hanging low and nothing but the sweeping winds to soothe them.
“No.” Donovan finally said. “There’s no better time than this.”
All three of them turned to him, but it was Ash who spoke. “What? Their base is literally on fire. Last time I checked, it's hard to investigate a clan, and kinda pointless, when they’re on the brink of death.”
“This won’t finish them.” The Shadow Clansman turned to the group. “It’ll be a distraction at most; I suspect that was the point of this attack in the first place. But we can use this to our advantage. We act now.”
Realisation struck Elmore. What had he been thinking? With such an uproar, who would notice a few stray shadows? “Behind that withdrawn mien, your genius never ceases to amaze me. Use your Mark on us if you will then. If we’re gonna do this, we should hurry.”
Donovan nodded. It was here, for the first time, that Elmore noticed the man’s Mark. Located across his chest, Elmore at first thought the construct was completely black. There was barely a detail, simply a faint swirling pattern that the entire thing consisted of. Then, he activated it, and Elmore at once understood. Now illuminating with a subtle brightness, a patch of olive skin, struck with two closed eyes, made up a gigantic man’s face. The jetness enveloping the dozing man was, in fact, a gigantic beard.
“Is that your god?” He asked Donovan, who was in the process of tapping the foreheads of his cousins.
He shook his head, tapping Elmore’s gently. “No. It’s the Old One. Our sect leader.”
That perplexed Elmore on such a level that he didn’t even notice as the colour sank out of him. Marks typically only depicted scenes from ancient history. Literal millennia ago. If the current, reigning sect leader of the clan, the one still eating, breathing — and, presumably, sleeping — was still alive . . . Elmore had heard the rumours, had heard it from Donovan himself. But this here was irrefutable proof, really putting things into perspective.
The more he learnt about the Shadow Clan, the more terrifying Elmore found Donovan’s withdrawn nature. But he put that thought aside for the time being. Down below, he was about to invade a clan equally, if not more terrifying.
Simultaneously, Elmore and his cousins stared at their palms. They were transparent, made up of drab, monochrome shades. Their contours were vague, as if only half-there with a ghostly quality. Looking further up, their arms, shoulders, chest, and entire body followed suit. Directly below, Elmore watched, mouth wide, as their shadows thinned to little more than a fidgeting dot. He walked a few steps, and the effect remained perfectly stable.
Elmore made a signal with his hands, and without so much as another word, the three dived downwards.
Like moths to a flame, they crash-landed ahead of the manor. Which, for some peculiar reason, was the mysterious shade of azure blue.