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Tomas The Wolf

The moment Wyatt squeezes the trigger of his legendary weapon, I leap forward, my newly evolved Power bringing forth strength unseen throughout my whole form. It feels as if I possess the force of Marshall within my veins.

Distance disappears, and I swipe Claw at the healthy Pygmy, seeking to end its life. Yet, a shield emerges from behind it, the steel denting and breaking as the short humanoid tumbles backward. My ankle, more prominent than usual, digs into the fort's stone as if it were dirt as I yell for my backup. I may be an Angel now like I've prepared my whole life, but I'm a newborn compared to these foes. A helping hand of a Graves will seal the deal.

"Wyatt! With me! The rest of you take the other one!"

I don't glance behind me as I follow up my strike with the bending of my legs for Pounce. Killian's son has proven his mettle over the many weeks and his might in the last scuffle. Space seems to shift in my vision as I move so swiftly, reaching for the Angel with Sharpened Claws.

As I do so, however, a pillar of steel rips itself from the ground and hurtles for me. I catch a glimpse of the male Pymgy in front with a knowing smile as I contort my torso and attempt to hit away the beam. But I don't have solid ground to use as a foundation of my strength, so the steel overpowers me and impales me into the ground.

The world spins from the impact as I try to get my bearing. That impact... it was brutal. Is that... yeah... that's Minding Steel. The bastard can move metals with his fucking mind. Shouldn't have met that with force. Painsforge isn't at total momentum yet, so that move is risky. However, the essence of the artifact still flows through me from earlier, enhancing my recovery and giving me the confidence to take these risks.

Groaning, I see Wyatt stumble beside me and wrap a hand around the steel as his flesh contorts and aids me in removing it from my stomach. Then, I take his hand as he hauls me to my feet. Lowering a hand to my stomach, I feel the wound close slowly.

I got lucky that Wyatt was with me, and I am beyond fortunate that he had that artifact. Without out, I would be dead earlier—one hundred percent.

"Damn good artifact you got there."

Wyatt nods to my compliment as we glance forward to the threat ahead. Steel flies in the air around Ihin, the Minding Steel, as he readies himself for the challenge we propose. I move from foot to foot, testing my weight as my Power is new. Well... new yet not. It is simply a more potent form of Bestial. The hair is more prominent, as is the authority in my muscles and senses. I also seem to have a tiny rejuvenation aspect that only further aids the Philiam flowing through me.

Meanwhile, Wyatt cracks his knuckles and flutters the dust and debris off his coat as flames emerge from where we came, shooting into the sky. I notice his eyes flicker over as the Angel begins to raise its hands.

"Seems that Angel is still putting up a challenge. Bonfire's raging over there."

I click my tongue at him as I point forward. This is no time to be distracted. We need to concentrate and plan while Ihin gathers his weapons.

"Focus. We might be mostly uninjured, but we're running low on Ether. And from what I can garner, this Angel just arrived. No messing around. Can you do another one of your tricks?"

Wyatt shakes his head, refuting both ideas I had without me even mentioning one.

"No. I'd go over my limit for a Ballista, and Lily is still wading through the energy of the last shot. She can't fire another at full potency until she does."

Fuck. That's not good. This one's a good counter for us, a manipulation style of Power, allowing him to control an element. Rare but suitably deadly. Neither of us has much range, even with my Flick, a way to break off nails to shoot out. Not that those will make it through the steel beams, though.

Damn...

I've heard about Ihin before, but he typically collides with the demons far in Pymgy territory. He's good. Really good. Offense, defense, and utility all in one.

The only thing is that he takes a while to prepare. Though, this could just be a trap seeing how he blocked my attack. I don't think he needs all this preparation time, or else he'd already be dead from a previous battle.

Yeah. This is one hundred percent a trap. I can see how he stares at us through the floating metal fragments. He wants us to strike him during this. But why?

Hmm...

While I think, I see Wyatt shuffle to the side, and I grab him by the arm.

"Wait. Let me think. This Pygmy is doing something."

Currently, Wyatt and I stand almost fifty feet away from Ihin, close to the edge of the divot made in the streets of Bent. Meanwhile, the Pygmy stands amongst countless shards of melted concrete, stone, and... steel.

That's it. He wants to use the hidden steel to kill us. Clever.

But not clever enough.

Spinning, I take Wyatt's shoulder and pull him away. And even as every second Bestial is active siphons away hordes of my available Ether, I run away, heading toward a less damaged area.

"Come! He wants to kill us with the metal shards hidden in the rubble!"

The younger man is quick on the uptake and follows me as I leap and climb onto the top of a building. Then, I take a moment to gaze around; the sights nearly break me.

Standing tall upon the vantage point of this weathered building, a common point while traversing the fortress as a bakery for as long as I can remember, I take in the chaos, the death. The sturdy stone walls of Bent, once a symbol of security, now withstand the relentless assault by an alliance of demons, Pygmies, and savage creatures from the deepest sections of the Wilds. Urayuli, Armaments, and even Heirlooms make their mark on sections of stone, brick, and steel as soldiers die every second. And these are no ordinary soldiers, for Bent has not harbored any weak warriors for months.

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The air is thick with the acrid scent of burning flesh and the metallic tang of spilled blood. The symphony of battle rages on, echoing through the courtyard and corridors, as I stand frozen, unable to move at the sight. Some soldiers valiantly fight against the encroaching horde, while others lie broken and beaten as they are promptly eaten by demons or beasts. Each crackling explosion and desperate cry reverberates through my very core, a haunting reminder of the fragility of life despite the stair I now stand on of Ether.

Even as an Angel, there is little I can do to stop this. There are... so many. A dozen Angels? More? How many came to kill us?

My eyes scan the harrowing sight before me, taking in the scenes of unimaginable carnage. Fallen comrades lie motionless, their faces etched with expressions of both pain and determination. The unpredictable and bizarre demons unleash their disastrous movements while the crafty Pygmies let loose their creations with malevolence. And amidst this maelstrom of violence, the figure of my revered General stands firm.

With each clash of steel, flame, flesh, or raw Ether, I see the General engaged in a fierce duel, his battle-hardened form pitted against two Powered demons, and a Virtued Pymgy and a Powered Pygmy. His movements are a deadly dance, proof of his mastery of warfare, a proclamation of his time spent doing this exact thing. None have fought the Pale Lady more than Marshall. The clash of weapons and raging Ether meet only his body, fists, and legs as his force reverberates through the air, the thunderous impacts punctuated by the growls and snarls of his adversaries.

At this moment, the weight of responsibility bears down upon me. The oath I swore to protect this fortress, to defend it from all threats, resonates within my very soul. And yet... I can't move. My muscles won't relax as my eyes lie frozen on the sights, even as Ihin approaches us with his steel weapons.

A face comes in front of me as their hand jostles me roughly, a voice reaching my ears finally.

"Tomas! Tomas! Wake the fuck up! What do we do!? Tomas!?"

I blink, a thousand shards of metal hurtling toward us. Then, finally, my muscles allow me to move as danger approaches. Ironskin floods the upper layers of my flesh with durability as I wrap my arms around Wyatt and twist around, taking the wounds for the young man. This is my mistake, and so, I shall take the hurt.

Agony blossoms a thousand times along my rear, from my feet to my head, yet none reach the man below me as I cover him entirely with my Bestial form. Succinctly, I gauge the wounds.

Not bad. The shards went deep, but not into my organs at all. We can do this. With a confluence of Ether, I cover the steel in my flesh so he cannot control it, limiting his contact with the steel.

We can still do this.

*************

Wyatt Graves

Tomas' towering body covers me as low grunts rumble from the man, impacts shaking his form. I yell at him and attempt to push him off me, but he pulls back only when the attacks stop. The man pants as he turns around, facing the Pygmy as he speaks to me, blood dripping from countless tiny shards of metal in his skin.

"We got Ihin away from the hidden debris. Now, we must get close and kill him or buy time for your pistol. Which do you want to do?"

His words hang in the air as a question that could decide our life or death while Ihin, the Pygmy, stares at us, more and more metal hovering toward him.

Can we reach him through all that metal? I dunno. But... I also don't know how long it will take until Lily can shoot again. The Colt stopped replying after saying she had to digest the vitality and force it into her Cardinal. She also said that once she fills the requirements for advancement, she doesn't have to wait after each shot.

It's the digestion that slows her down, not a lack of power. So, the next time she fires at a Pygmy, there won't be a problem, as she took enough years from that one to count.

Believe in Lily or us?

I--

"Wyatt!"

A distant scream attracts my attention, and I turn my head as a whip of steel snaps toward me. Tomas lunges on my defense as I see Earl holding something above his head a few streets away, two women behind him. Primrose and Millie. Where's Elizabeth?

"I have the arm!"

His sentence, fueled by Ether, rips a smile onto my lips even as Tomas fights. He did it, finally. Earl achieved the 4th Sigil a few weeks ago, and he's been working non-stop on my arm. Shouting at Tomas, I rush for Earl.

"Hold him off! I need to get something! Then, we can kill him!"

A grunt is my only reply as Tomas is shunted into a stone wall, the building collapsing behind him. Fuck. Need to go fast.

Arbalest hurtles me forward across a roof as a Leash forms in my hand, wrapping around a post that still remains and swinging me toward the coming group. In just a few moments, I land in front of Earl, Millie, and Primrose as the young man starts talking.

"Elizabeth and Millie have already begun the retreat. We can't hold all these people off, but you, Millie, and Tomas must get Marshall and Johnny to escape with us! Come closer! Let me put this on you!"

Earl shouts at me over the disastrous sounds of death around and holds the beautiful, intricate arm that appears silvery bronze. Inside the shoulder, a spinning magnet stands as I sense a trio of Sigils inside the arm. Remembering what he used to say about how it would work, I stand sideways, motioning him to continue as I relay what's happening from my end.

"Virgil, Abraham, Bonfire, his boys, and Skyswain are fighting an Angel a block or so down. Once you get my arm on, you and Primrose need to help them. I hurt the Pygmy with Lily, but who knows if more will show up."

The genius nods as he pushes the metal limb onto my shoulder. The cacophony of cannons and the cries of war reverberating through the air cannot hide the pleasant sound of the installation. Amid this chaos, I gaze upon the intricate creation that now adorns the space where my right arm once resided. The craftsmanship is a marvel to behold, a fusion of gears, pistons, and delicate mechanisms that exude an air of both elegance and power. I catch a glimpse of the hidden weapons inside the steel, which are the scythe and wrist blade.

My heart only heightens in gait as the metal clicks against my skin, a weight falling upon me. A split second later, a sting of pain and blood flowing from my scar enters me. The sharp sting of metal meeting flesh reminds me of my past stupidity. But as the pain subsides, a surge of energy courses through my veins, filling me with newfound strength and confidence. The once empty void by my side is filled with a tangible force, the Sigils within providing me vibrant blood.

And with the blood comes a sensation, the feeling of air on my fingers and the weight of the heavy arm, and I sense the Sigils within. A Comanche, Occultist, and a Mentalist. I glance up at Earl and tighten my mechanical hand into a fist. It works immediately and perfectly. He speaks up about it and agrees about the course of action laid out.

"I had to do only one Occultist for now so that you could control and feel it with your mind. The next improvement will have a Trapper, a Mentalist, and another Occultist. But that's for another time. We'll go help out Virgil and them. Just... don't break the arm already, okay? That thing cost more than all the cannons lining those walls."

I smile and reach out with my arm, feeling the raw power of the gears and pulleys inside, the hidden compartments calling for action. With each movement, the whir of gears and the faint hiss of steam accompany me, a song of Earl's mechanical prowess. At the same time, blood flows into and out of the base of my shoulder, vitalizing me while taking some of my own for its power, demonstrating Earl's quick learning of a Craftsman. The arm responds to my commands, the intricate mechanisms working in perfect harmony with my will.

The cannon fire and tumultuous clashes seem to fade into the background as I embrace the newfound power that courses through my veins. With both arms now restored, I am ready to face that Pygmy. It's been so long... so long since I felt this.

Primrose wraps an arm around Earl, smoke clouding her form as the woman turns to gas, her new 6th Sigil whisking them into the sky and away as she remarks on the young man.

"Earl does good work, don't he? Now, you two better go save Johnny. Or I'll take that new arm and shove it up your ass."

Millie then steps beside me, waving me forward. Still enraptured by Earl's gift, I don't react at first.

"Hey, let's go! Where is Tomas? Wyatt! Stop smiling!"

A string of Ether in her voice pulls me from my fantasy as I clap my arm of flesh and bone together with that of steel and gears. Then, I twist around, drooping down until my arms reach the ground. Ether swirls through my form, and Arbalests build in each limb, including my newest one. The Ether manipulation is smooth, only a tad bit more complex than my other arm.

"Follow me, then. I'll ambush that Pygmy with my speed."

And then, I breathe in a gasp of Ether. Strugglers Gasp fills me once more as I shoot off, mimicking Edmund's style of movement. Air flitters past my body as Adumbral's Shadowed cloaks my form, further enriching my speed.

Millie struggles to keep up, but she knows the direction now. That's good enough. Tomas presumably needs me right now. His Ether saturation has got to be nearing a limit, even with his advancement. Breakneck has the floor nearly invisible under my feet. As I move, I realize this is the only chance for an ambush I'll get with this. And so, I take a dagger and thrust it into my neck, artificially tightening the potency of my Merit. Once I remove the blade, the Bloody Palm will handle it. Another idea of Earl's that is sure to work. Self-mutilation for temporary power.

Distance vanishes like that of a snapping finger before I'm upon that roof again, observing the smackdown of the Wolf for only a moment before acting. All four of my limbs, filled with newly-made Arbalests, shunt me forward at a speed that seems to cave the air in front of me, creating a scream from only my movement.

I can barely keep my eyes open as I bounce from a pallet of steel to a pillar of metal in the air before diving straight down to Ihin. My movement is so fast, bolstered by everything I possibly can, yet this is my only shot. After this, I will be too low on Ether to do much, but this is a race. Marshall might die before we make it to him or Johnny if we are too slow.

Opening the Bloody Palm as I rear the arm back with an Explosion, Ihin notices me. A plane of metal moves to cover the two of us somehow quicker than my movement. Smiling, I see the confident grin of Ihin through a reflection in the corner of my eye. My right arm flexes the gears and pulleys inside it, a puff of steam moving it to the side from my mental order.

Too bad.

Earl has a plan for every occasion, and I exist only to make them happen. Though, this one is entirely mine, even if it can only happen because of him.