On a cold, rainy night in a dilapidated district of Lyrsium, Leon and Yuna stood atop a rundown building around five stories high. They wore similar shadowed clothing, blending into the night. They sheltered from the rain only partially from via a taller adjacent building. Yuna fidgeted in a squat while Leon peered over the rooftop to an old theater across the street. He had a pair of binoculars that relayed various readings to his IRIS.
“You satisfied yet, Pops?” Yuna asked. “There’s a new ep dropping of Hell’s Atelier soon. It’s the only time I stay up so late. Plus, if I’m not home to wake Reina, she’s gonna be even angrier we didn’t notify her.”
“All-nighter,” Leon said.
“Fat chance, old man. Even with your ban, she wants to be available. No way we don’t get an earful.”
“Five upfront. Five after.”
“Holy shit. You serious? So ten times the normal amount? The hell? Who could’ve pissed off the council that badly?”
“Conditional. Order.”
“Figures.” Yuna sighed and shook her head. “So that’s why you’re so intent on trying to see shit, even in this damned rain. Let me guess, you want me non-lethal at first, don’t you? God damnit.”
“Good girl.”
“You know, all these years, we’ve never actually needed your prep, right? And while I hate those usually cheap ass shitbirds, they’ve upheld your policy all this time, at least. Now I’m definitely going to miss the premier—.” Yuna felt the heavy thud of Leon’s hand on her shoulder. The sheer pressure prevented her from wobbling even a little.
Leon had turned toward Yuna. “Yuna. Listen to me. Once is all it takes. Am I understood?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Yuna grumbled.
“Yuna.”
“I get it, ya fucking worrywart.” Yuna swatted away Leon’s hand. “Christ, we’ve done this how many times? You know I behave…mostly.”
Leon returned to observing the theater. “Uncomfortable circumstances.”
“Okay, I’ll drop it.” Yuna peered out at the theater alongside Leon. “You ever think about how funny it is we’re more scared of Reina and Mom’s wrath than you know, what’s about to go down?”
“Amusing. Our heads.”
Yuna stifled a laugh. “Heh, yeah. Def something screwy. Well?”
“Soon.”
“Hmph. Why they meeting in such a shit hole, anyway?”
“Primed demolition.” Leon placed the angled binoculars over Yuna’s eye-line. “Tomorrow.”
“Huh. Guess that would be a good place for shady meet-ups. Don’t gotta worry bout leavin’ traces.”
A short time later, Leon entered the theater from a side entrance with great care and stealth, a peculiar sight for someone of his physique. He ducked into a nearby closet. After scanning the pitch-black immediate area, he discarded his rain gear. Meanwhile, on the opposite end of the building, Yuna used an adjacent wall to scale the theater’s first floor and entered through a window soon after. She crouched in a simple, empty room. With no activity or light sources, she too discarded her rain gear into a corner. Faint moonlight revealed she wore the unsettling helmet which she had used when Nero marched on Vyxora, albeit it too, looked pitch-black, only visible via the gleam. From within the helmet, night vision revealed her surroundings. It had several other elements to its HUD as well. In the peripheral of her sight, a labeled box, ‘Leon’, showed biometric readings.
“No one,” Leon said, his voice clear within Yuna’s helmet, with no sound escaping from it.
“Nothin’ yet,” Yuna said. Leon too now wore a similar helmet, with the same display, and heard Yuna.
The pair almost moved in concert as they investigated their immediate areas.
“Wasn’t rain. No signatures. Thermals.”
“Yeah…no anything. You don’t think they could’ve sent us to the wrong place, do you?”
“Would be first.”
“Don’t hear shit outside of you and the rain. What the fuck? Supposed to be some damn meeting going on, right?”
“Guard.”
“I know, I know. I’m going through the motions as always, god damned nag.”
“Focus.”
Yuna growled.
A short time later, they each approached the main amphitheater from their respective entrances. Yuna entered onto a second-floor mezzanine of seating while Leon carefully opened a fire exit to the side of the main stage. They both flinched as they peered toward the stage. An oppressively bright light caused them to switch off their night vision. Below the stage, in front of it, sat a pair of floodlights illuminating a tablet screen setup on a table. The rest of the room remained shrouded in darkness.
“Fuck that hurt,” Yuna said.
“Okay?” Leon asked.
“I’m fine, few more blinks, I’ll be good.”
Within the pair’s HUDs, it revealed their locations to one another. Their gazes affixed to the light source. They both moved to the closest respective walls to guide them forward. Leon crept along the stage edge until stopping in full view of the light. Yuna did the same, reaching the mezzanine railing.
“Status?” Leon asked.
“Just some lights around a table with something on it? The hell? I’ma poke.”
“Wait—.”
“My bad, too late.” A second later, a hilt-less knife pierced the tablet into the table.
“Yuna.”
“I said my bad.”
As Leon sighed, the entire amphitheater lit up. A heavy clap echoed throughout. On instinct of locating the source, Leon and Yuna looked at the stage. There stood Siegfried, wearing a suit, a sturdy long coat and accompanying hat. His digital face had an unsettling realism and a jovial yet gentlemanly demeanor.
“Welcome, ‘Faceless Reapers’, as you’re affectionately known,” Siegfried announced. “Aha, certainly a moniker gained from your masks. Amusing. They remind me of my own.” He tapped his face, creating a slight echo.
Meanwhile, Leon surveyed and analyzed the now-lit room. It revealed several dozens of people to have been sitting in the audience seats. They all wore the same garb as those Yuna had encountered over a month prior. It looked as if they were waking before they started to stand, one after another. A fair amount were also present in the mezzanine seating.
“I would like to—,” Siegfried caught a knife between two fingers with relative ease, “speak with you. That was rude, young lady. My findings indicated you were a vulgar one, Yuna.” He tossed the knife aside as he looked at her.
Yuna, too, had reconnoitered the area, and reached for her transarms until freezing for a moment at the sound of her name. Mere seconds after Siegfried spoke her name, Leon dashed up the closest aisle.
“Distract. Lethal. Converge,” Leon said.
“Fuck yeah,” Yuna said. “Hey, these creepy bastards look like those cultists?”
“I usually do not have to go to the trouble of elaborate traps such as this,” Siegfried said. “However—.”
Again, Siegfried caught several knives between his fingers. At the same time, Yuna leapt from the mezzanine and threw a dagger that followed the knives. She then wielded her axe transarms while falling. She cleaved into two cultists in the midst of standing, tempering her descent until she landed. The cyan edge of the dagger glinted beneath the lights as it traveled toward Siegfried’s chest. As it neared a few feet away, a third arm emerged from his suit, catching the dagger by its hilt. He glanced to Yuna, who had landed, then to Leon, who now wielded a gigantic transarm axe. Leon moved toward Yuna while cutting down the passive cultists in his path to her.
Siegfried marveled at the dagger. “Wasted an Excalium dagger on a mere distraction? Or perhaps she’s confident in retrieving it? Regardless.” He looked at Leon, who continued his way to Yuna. The cultists continued to allow themselves to be cut down without resistance, though Leon prioritized removing them as obstacles, not ensuring fatal blows. “I see why you were called ‘Lionheart’ once, Leon Vyx!” Leon continued without hesitation at Siegfried’s obvious provocation. “Not even a flinch. Impressive. Unfortunate my own distraction did not get to play out to my satisfaction, but as they did not immediately flee, it’ll have to do. Enough faithful should be in position by now.”
Just as Leon and Yuna met in the center aisle, the sound of snapping fingers rang throughout. It emanated from Siegfried, albeit he hadn’t made the relevant gesture itself. All the cultists moved in concert, quickly blocking the pair’s paths to any exit. Several cultists funneled in from an entrance at the center aisle, brandishing transarms of various kinds. The pair, meanwhile, shifted into a defensive back-to-back position on instinct in reaction to the sudden wave of surrounding movement. Some cultists now encircling them showed clear signs of being ones Leon and Yuna had struck down. Their wounds revealed abnormal flesh, parts of metal, and a light mixture of blood along with other fluids.
“What’s the play, Pops?” Yuna asked.
“Free,” Leon said. He gripped his axe handle with both hands, whereas he’d only held it with one while pushing aside the cultists prior. Yuna’s head shifted toward him.
“No fucking way, really?”
“Don’t stray.”
“That it?”
Meanwhile, Siegfried called out. “We will get to know one another more intimately soon, but it’s only fair that you know I am Siegfried. Further, as unlikely as it is, you do have the option of—.”
“You’re all fuckin’ dead!” Yuna’s thunderous voice roared, echoing throughout the amphitheatre. Her helmet came to life, appearing as a cosmic swirl of colors. She bent to her knees. The cultists with transarms had made their way to the inner circle surrounding the pair. She lunged at the nearest one with a lightning-quick slash.
“--surrendering to my faithful.” By the time the cultist’s severed arm hit the ground, Yuna cleaved her axes into the necks of two others. “Or not.”
Another snap rang out. All the cultists sprang into action, engaging with Yuna and Leon. Leon’s outer helmet visually synced with Yuna’s as they mercilessly cut into the cultists. Despite their overwhelming numerical superiority, the cultists repeatedly failed to land attacks of their own. However, they displayed no hesitation in retrieving transarms from fallen brethren, nor stepping over them. The encirclement closed tighter on Leon and Yuna. With more transarms in the mix, cultists defended for longer against their onslaught. Yuna sought those with transarms, bringing the full might of her attention to them. Her transarms constantly shifted into different forms. Though she appeared an unbridled whirlwind of carnage, she still conducted evasive maneuvers as necessary; yet she slowly accumulated shallow cuts from the sheer amount of attackers. Leon meanwhile moved at a far slower pace, though no less destructive as mighty swings sent groups flying into one another. He would defend and in the same moment glance at either Yuna or Siegfried, then riposte. He purposefully kept moving toward Yuna. At the same time, cultist after cultist moved into the growing space between the pair. After noticing a shallow wound in her peripheral, Yuna’s movement slowed considerably.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
The fuck is with these guys? Yuna thought. Their movements don’t make sense.
“Yuna!” Leon yelled, though only she could hear.
“Christ, my ears. What?” Yuna turned to see the encircling cultists that had created a wall between her and Leon. She saw Leon pushing into them and moved to do the same. “Are these fucks endless? I’ve already lost count.”
“Do not stray from me. They were making a concentrated effort to separate us.” Leon coughed. “Only close. Me.”
“My bad.” The pair continued to fight for several minutes. Damnit Yuna, Pops’ll never trust you off the leash again if you fuck up this chance. A full sentence means he ain’t happy. C’mon, show you aren’t just mindlessly killing fools. “There’s something off about their movements. It’s not just because they’re amateurs.”
“Yes.” Leon glanced at Siegfried, who had continued to watch in silence since he last spoke. Leon then observed with great attention as his axe cleaved into a cultist body. Their heavily augmented bodies are making up for their severe lack of skill.
“What the hell’s with them? They just keep stepping over their comrades to get cut down, too. And is it just me, or is there more strength to their attacks?”
Something’s very wrong, Leon thought. I’ve made a grave error, haven’t I? These movements. They are purposefully avoiding our vitals. This isn’t a hit. They’re trying to wear us down. Capture us? And there’s no end in sight. My instincts are telling me that ‘Siegfried’ isn’t merely waiting, either. No more time to think. “Yuna. Follow.”
Leon barreled toward the entrance while his transarm morphed into a plow-like shield. The cultists’ slow reactions at the sudden charge resulted in dozens toppling into one another, creating space. Yuna followed in his wake, still mercilessly striking at the cultists. They broke into the lobby, however, countless cultists blocked the exits. Leon quickly surveyed the room, all while his transarm morphed back into an axe and he cut down encroaching cultists. He noticed grand staircases on their flanks held few cultists.
“Stairs,” Leon said. As he moved toward the left staircase, Yuna lingered in combat. He spotted a few cultists attempt to move between them, to which he swatted away. “Stairs!”
“I’m comin’.” Yuna turned and saw a cultist flying into a group. She hurried to nigh lockstep with Leon. They ascended the stairs. “Got a plan? Never thought I’d say such a thing with so much prey, but barely feels like a fight. Lame fucks haven’t gotten close to a decent hit.”
“Intentional.”
Leon reached the top and secured footing. The second floor connected in an overhang with a railing above the lobby, leading off in several directions. Cultists flooded the space between said railing and the closest wall. He took in his surroundings, still fending off some. Yuna had almost reached the top.
“Whattya mean, ‘intentional’?”
Meanwhile, Siegfried appeared at the top of the other staircase. “Seems I guessed wrong. No matter.”
“Focus,” Leon said.
“I a—.” Yuna paused her ascent when a transarm knife, obscured by the railing and cultist mob, pierced her helmet. It nicked her forehead above her right eye before withdrawing back into the mob. She looked at the damage from within as a drop of blood tingled upon her brow. She then pounced on the closest cultist in a fury of swings. “Motherfucker.”
Several nearby fell into the whirlwind of Yuna’s attacks while she pulverized her target into the ground. Leon turned to see her onslaught. At the same time, he spotted the towering Siegfried moving with an eerie, aberrant speed while cultists parted en route to Yuna. His digital face had an unsettling, emotionless calm.
“Yuna!”
By the time Leon dashed to Yuna, a transarm rapier emerged from the cultists, navigating through a small window of her swings. The entire length of the rapier had the Excalium glow. It nigh pierced her shoulder, only deflected at the last possible second by Leon’s transarm, which had morphed into a poleaxe. Moments later, she had stopped her fury and swung upward with both axes at the rapier. However, it had already receded, and she missed entirely. The cultists meanwhile withdrew from the space between. Leon lunged with a flurry of thrusts at Siegfried, who in turn deflected each with the single rapier. Yuna cursed as she crouched, then lunged toward Siegfried’s legs. The same singular rapier deflected her axes for a moment, altering her entire course. He continued to deflect Leon’s thrusts while his leg moved at an almost imperceptible speed, launching Yuna toward Leon. She held her axes crossed at the point of impact, having narrowly defended. Leon switched to one arm, still attacking, as he roughly caught her with the brunt of his body. His feet slid backward at the force. She gasped as it had knocked out the wind of her.
“Not bad,” Siegfried said. A menacing smile crept along his digital lips.
Leon ceased his attacks. Siegfried made no movements, his rapier hanging aloft. Leon glanced to the stairway, which had filled with cultists. He felt Yuna stir, her feet dangling above the ground. He broke into a full sprint down the nearest corridor.
“Oh? Is that it for foreplay?” Siegfried called.
“The hell’re you doing—.” Yuna coughed up a bit of blood. “God damnit. That cunt seriously cracked a rib? Let me down. I can walk, christ.”
Yuna struggled a bit, dragging her feet. Leon stopped and released her. She coughed again as she sheathed her transarms, then poked at her ribs and winced. Leon quickly scanned their dim surroundings. Cultists appeared in the distance from whence they came. He placed both hands on her shoulders, directing her to his gaze.
“Listen,” Leon said. “We’ve got too many disadvantages. We need a more favorable location. And you are not to engage this ‘Siegfried’ without me. Am I understood?” His voice crackled.
“Aw, c’mon Pops, it’s just a rib,” Yuna said. “It was my bad. I fucked up. No need to talk so much, we’ll be fine.”
“No. Capture. Not kill.” Leon squeezed her shoulders, then glanced to the incoming cultists. “Follow.” He pushed her into a jog as they moved along, passing various doors.
“You’re saying they’re trying to capture us? Guess that would make a lot more sense with how weird the fighting’s been. Still. They’ve just got numbers.”
As I feared, Leon thought. She doesn’t recognize a foe to be wary of. She’s experienced real failure too little. Can I even hope to convince her? That thing is unlike…
“Pops? You got a plan or what? We just runnin’ aimless?”
“Rooftop.”
“Ah, yeah. I get you. Like a tap of these cockroaches we can control. Right?”
“Yes.”
“Hey do you think that Sieg…whatever could be the Sculptor? Kinda pictured some weird weakling, though.” Yuna coughed and grabbed her side. “That fucker better show again, got me good.”
Leon appeared preoccupied with their surroundings, constantly scanning.
Is Pops ignoring me? Yuna thought. Fuck. I can’t see if he’s even got a scratch… I’ve gotta redeem myself.
After some time passed, Leon and Yuna emerged onto the roof of the building. The city lights faintly illuminated the area. The rain had become a drizzle, which re-wet the dried blood and fluids on their bodies. They barred the door to take a breath. Cultists beset it mere moments later.
“The hell’d you keep stopping for?” Yuna asked.
“Forget it.” Leon said. He took off his helmet and gestured that Yuna do the same. He inspected the minor cut above her eye, then again grabbed her shoulders, this time locking eyes with her. “Listen to me. This is an order, understand? You are only to engage that thing alongside me. Do not underestimate this opponent. Am I understood?”
“Sure.” Yuna picked at her eye with a pinky finger.
“Yuna.”
“I get it. Understood, sir.” Yuna reciprocated Leon’s serious gaze. He relinquished his grip. This isn’t like him, he couldn’t actually be? Nah, no way. Not him. He’s just being cautious, as always. Yeah. Sucks, but I’ve only myself to blame for earlier. She sighed with a shrug as she loosened up.
Several transarms cut through the door. Cultists flooded out. Leon and Yuna made quick work of them. A pile of bodies soon littered the doorway, so much so that further cultists tripped over them. After the pile reached several feet, they halted.
“Enough,” Siegfried said.
The cultists dragged their fallen from the doorway. Despite his hulking physique, little sound had preempted his appearance at the door. He crouched a little as he entered the roof. Before he stood upright, Yuna lunged at him with a spear. With immense speed, his rapier deflected it, sending her off balance. Leon steadied her a moment later. Siegfried stood.
“Impatient one, aren’t you?” Siegfried asked.
“Fuck,” Yuna said. Leon grunted. He whispered in her ear, barely moving his lips.
“Ahh. Your faces. In the flesh. I suppose the night air is refreshing.” Siegfried’s digital face acted as if it felt the breeze. He then gazed at the pair. “I don’t suppose we could have a word?”
Leon and Yuna dashed to Siegfried’s flanks. The swings of their respective transarms were in-sync as the blades neared him. Loud clangs resonated when he used a rapier in each hand to deflect them. A repeated clash of their transarms ensued. Leon and Yuna’s morphed into various forms, yet were deflected with eerie precision over and over, their synchronized attacks proving to have little effect. Outside of his flurry of arms, Siegfried remained unsettlingly still. Then, he started to riposte after each deflection, drastically slowing Leon and Yuna’s offensive as they narrowly defended with a mix of blocks, parries, and outright dodges.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Yuna said as she defended against a series of jabs. The fuck is this dude? I’m barely keeping up. How’s this possible? Fuck!
“Impressive,” Siegfried said. His speed increased. It forced Leon and Yuna to defend more as each second passed, with fewer attacks of their own.
Then, a rapier shallowly pierced Yuna’s right shoulder. “Shit.”
Yuna swung as hard as she could with an axe transarm at the rapier blade. Its tip had already exited her shoulder. She’d intended to break it, yet it merely ricocheted off. However, Siegfried had overextended his grip whilst still contending with Leon. In turn, his arm got carried upward. Meanwhile, Leon fared better than she, having returned to a near equal balance of defense and offense.
I’m getting a better feel for his abnormal movements, Leon thought. Does his overwhelming physical…mechanical? Abilities give him false confidence? It’s difficult to gauge how serious he is. Maybe he’s not as experienced as his prowess conveys? Still. Was this a mistake? How’s Yuna?
Leon looked to see Yuna’s heavy deflection of the rapier. She then lunged at Siegfried’s nearest leg with her other transarm sword. At the same moment, Leon’s eye caught a slight shifting of fabric around Siegfried’s chest. Siegfried’s gaze shifted down. A split-second later, Leon dived forward. The rapier he’d been fighting moved in empty air, as if on autopilot. A third arm with another rapier shot out from Siegfried’s suit, its course set for Yuna’s back. Before it reached, it pierced through Leon’s outstretched hand. Leon grabbed the blade in that same hand as blood spilled out while he landed on his knees. He swung a long transarm sword down through Siegfried’s outstretched third arm, severing it. At the same time, Yuna’s sword pierced through his leg. The second after she landed, she rolled away. Siegfried appeared unaffected by the damage inflicted. Both of his arms, rapier in hand, now bore down on Leon until the entire building suddenly shook, distracting him. Leon’s transarm morphed into a war hammer, which he slammed with reckless abandon, fracturing the rooftop beneath them. He then pulled out the rapier in his hand while several explosions shook the building, one after another. Yuna’s eyes widened in horror as she watched Leon. He leapt back, narrowly missing the rapiers as Siegfried’s attention returned. Another explosion underneath Siegfried shook. The ground crumbled beneath his immense weight.
“Well executed. That was unexpected.” Siegfried retracted his arms, standing upright as he fell to the floor below. “Be back soon.”
Yuna rushed over to Leon, she carried her remaining transarm as a dagger. She leaned into a crouched Leon. He had ripped off a piece of cloth and was wrapping it around his hand.
“Fuck. Fuck,” Yuna said. “Was that my fault? What happened? Fuck.” She grabbed the cloth, binding it around the wound.
“I’m fine,” Leon stood. He looked at the blood dripping from Yuna’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“What?” Yuna glanced at her shoulder. “This’ nothing. You’re the one with a hole in their hand. Was that my fault?”
“Don’t worry.” Leon walked away to the edge of the roof. Yuna followed, repeating the question. He looked down to see dozens of cultists surrounding the building. I have to lie to her. I know her too well. She’s never going to forgive me, but I can’t risk it. He sighed. “It was. Are you ready?” He gestured toward the stairs, visible from across the partially collapsed roof.
“What? Yeah, of course. Always.” Yuna said in rapid succession. “What the fuck were those explosions, though?”
“Me.”
“That’s what you were doing? Coulda told me.”
“Backup.”
“Well. Damn. You can tell me ‘told ya’, if you want.” Yuna shifted into a stance with her dagger brandished. Fucking hell, I’m pathetic. How long’s it been since I thought I’d surpassed the old man?
Siegfried didn’t mask his steps. The heavy clang of his weight upon the stairs echoed as he ascended to the rooftop. Leon stood behind Yuna, gazing at her with a forlorn expression. He took a deep inhale.
“Told you.” Leon locked his arms around Yuna’s neck in a submission hold.
“Hu—?” Yuna almost stabbed the arm around her neck but hesitated and dropped it before clawing at it in vain.
“I leave Celeste and Reina to you.”
Yuna fainted as blood from Leon’s hand drenched the bandage and her shoulder. He kissed the top of her head for a brief second, then caught and lifted her falling form. An autonomous passenger drone appeared behind them, landing. Its doors opened. He grabbed her dagger, then placed her with care on the floor before carving ‘Horizon’ above her head. He withdrew as the doors closed and tapped his wrist.
Sorry for the window, old friend. I trust you’ll remember, Leon thought.
The drone flew off just as Siegfried emerged onto the roof in time to see it. He clapped emphatically a few times as he met Leon’s gaze with a subdued digital expression.
“I was warned not to underestimate you.” Siegfried shook his head. “I didn’t. And yet.” He gestured an arm toward the drone.
“I surrender,” Leon said. “If you let it go.” Siegfried turned and lowered his arm. Leon continued to watch the drone out of the corner of his eye.
“So you even assumed I’d have something up my sleeve, literally. Let alone that you prepared such a thing. How vexing. I struggle to recall a quarry as difficult as you. You have my adoration.”
Leon swayed slightly as he ripped cloth to fashion additional bandaging for his hand. Siegfried’s snap sound rang again and cultists soon ascended the stairs while he observed Leon, his expression contorting.
“I was also warned you aren’t much of a conversationalist. Seems my difficulties have only just begun.”
Leon glanced at the distant drone, then tapped in the air, manipulating his IRIS. A second later, explosions went off in rapid succession below. The building collapsed in on itself.
A short time later, in a rundown apartment building, Griff sat passed out at a small table. He wore a t-shirt and boxers, both looking quite discolored. While stirring, he knocked several empty bottles and pills off the table onto the ground. He had a shaggy beard and unkempt hair. A revolver lay at the fingertips of one of his hands. The apartment held little in the way of furniture and decoration. City lights filtered in through shades. Light illuminated one wall, which had maps, documents, photos and more plastered in a wide array. Suddenly, an autonomous passenger drone crashed through the windows, knocking Griff over as it slid to a halt.