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Wyatt Graves
Adrenaline, both beset by Ether and my flesh, courses through my veins as we sprint through the open estates, our footsteps muffled by the thick grass beneath towering trees. Gunfire echoes in the distance, a haunting melody as Earl struggles to keep up, even with his Jumper, against our speeds. Still, the night falls even darker as midnight descends on us. The moon casts long shadows, revealing the urgency in every stride. Our destination looms not far ahead—a colossal, ancient mansion that rises five stories into the night.
As we approach the grand estate, my eyes are drawn to something other than the extraordinary building that has housed generations of Harveys and dozens of Angels over the past millennia. I can stare only at one singular thing.
An enormous sword, taller than the mansion itself, is thrust into the ground with its hilt pointing towards the sky. The moonlight gleams off the ancient metal, tinged with a color unlike any other, and an unsettling shiver runs down my spine. I'm immediately overcome by a rush of memories—a vivid recollection of an old dream.
I stutter to a slow walk that only decreases in pace further and further as I realize where the blade comes from. The vision from the Sigil. It's here. I couldn't see what the monument was in the vision, but I can recognize it here. As if to quote that memory, a spark of pain assails my mind as I fall to a knee, half my sight distorting into another realm. The sword shatters into countless shards that soar through the air, only to reassemble itself with an ethereal glow.
The vision flickers in my mind, superimposed over the reality before me. I come to a sudden stop, my companions slowing to a halt beside me. Earl grabs my shoulder softly as I place a hand against my skull.
The monument stands as a convergence of past and present in my mind, but the second we come to a stop, I notice other figures nearing the mansion.
Looking left, I find Maddox with two others behind him, both leveraging dark blue chains yet having magenta objects within their arms. Bastard. He was hiding things. Makes sense, I suppose. Next, I glance right, discovering the Quartet, as we've come to call them. Timemi, Natos, Anodra, and Bemola crunch the ground underneath their feet as they approach. They are united wholly, more so than any other group. I wonder what they've been through to become so close. Nevertheless, ahead, exiting the mansion before us is a lone figure.
Eli Weiss, in his genuine flesh and blood, strides out from the mansion. His violet fetters glow haphazardly as he greets us all with open arms. Squinting, he seems to have some kind of belt with vials placed all over. I even notice metallic wires poking out from his fancy clothing.
He's acting nonchalant, but it's obvious the Underground Tree is ready for a fight. He's got all his tools, probably even the living ones on standby. It's about to start. My hair stands on end at the back of my neck, and my hands clench into the form of claws, Blodwyn's instinct coming to town.
"Welcome! This is the home of all Primes! It has simply been the abode of the Harveys for a century! I am glad to introduce you to its lodgings! Though... I know few of you are here for anything other than my head and title. That is fine. But remember, you are not the only one who greeds for my things."
Eli smiles proudly as a fifth group emerges, but unlike all the others, this one is made of a single figure. A disheveled, bleeding, and broken man stumbles into the clearing. He is missing both his arms and wields no weapon.
Yet... he is the one that gives all pause. A lump halts itself in my throat as I see him, Lennon Hull, once more. He is so... so different.
Like a reforged blade.
"Eli Weiss will die tonight. If you seek his things, so shall you."
Lennon's announcement to the world hangs with silence as its only response for several moments. Then, Timemi laughs, covering her mouth with a gauntlet of steel.
"Ohoho, Mister Hull. And pray tell, how will he be dying tonight? Or any of us, for that matter? I quite desire his Arcas, as you could imagine. You are the only one showing up like that! Ahaha! You already seem almost dead!"
I observe quietly as Lennon doesn't respond. His gaze simply slides over me, then moves on to the rest. It seems as though he hardly recognizes me. I do notice how Timemi stares at me, however, after glaring at Lennon's lack of care. The hate is unavoidable, while Lennon's emotions toward us all seem apathetic at best.
As tensions rise, Eli simply smiles. I squint, wanting to say something to change the direction of this, but Maddox beats me to the chase. He always is a step ahead.
"Now, relax, Lennon. We are all here for Eli. Why don't we kill him together? That which comes after can be crossed when we arrive at it."
I nod to Maddox despite my own personal hatred of the man. He's right. Eli is the more significant threat here. I lay my focus on the Underground Tree, taking a short step forward. At the same time, I shove Earl back with a harsh whisper.
"You're not meant for this! Retreat to where it's safe!"
The anticipation of battle courses through my veins as I channel my Ether, fortifying my body with Breakneck and Strugglers Defiance while also shaping the substance into deadly chains. Earl bobs his head, shooting away with his Jumper from the imminent danger. Bonfire and I position ourselves for the impending fight, careful to stay close with a shared nod.
Maddox takes the first step forward, heading toward the doors of the mansion. Lennon follows without hesitation, and the Quartet uses their individual prowesses to defend themselves as they advance. I approach the door gradually with Bonfire several steps behind me, not wanting to be the first in the fire, but in an instant, everything turns blindingly white.
An earth-shattering explosion engulfs the surroundings, the shockwave propelling me backward with an unstoppable force. I soar through the air, disoriented and battered, my senses overwhelmed by the deafening roar and the onslaught of flying rubble. I spin head over heels a dozen or more times, thrashing for any sense of reason.
Pain assails my form, but it all fades to a dull hum with a grunt from my partner. Blodwyn does what he can to help as I merely endure. Colors and light flash before my eyes, a disorienting kaleidoscope of destruction. It is as if I was the subject of a thousand of Earl's bombs at once.
As I crash into the unforgiving earth, pain shoots through my body, piercing through Blodwyn's haze, and the world spins around me. Seconds pass as I try to return to form, but I only manage to reach a kneeling position. Coughing up blood and bits of my insides, I rub my chest. As time passes, I feel better and better, but the apparent bends in my flesh and bones are not natural at all. The only part of me that escaped unscathed was Earl's arm he made for me. The steel has, at the very worst, scrapes that delve a tenth of an inch deep.
Through the lingering dust and debris, a figure emerges, wielding a menacing greatsword that slides along the dirt covered with rubble. The noise is what brings me to consciousness, the awful scrape eliciting a dangerous charm. Blinking rapidly, I attempt to realize who this is, whether it is Maddox or not, but how they raise the blade tells me it isn't the Sea's Shadow.
My vision is still blurred, but the imminent threat compels me to muster what strength I have left. I thrust against the ground, darting to the side with a hasty Arbalest in my palms as a thousand pounds of force create a crater beside me.
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Rolling away further, I stumble to my feet, the left missing wholly and the right bent unnaturally. I stagger again from the odd positioning as the blade heads back for me, defying its weight. I have only a moment to investigate my foe, but in that split-second, I recognize them by their chains.
They are tightly wrapped around their chest and forearms with a magenta glow. Brimstone, or at least, that's what Eli called him. Who knows if that's his real name?
I thrust my right hand into the way of the greatsword, allowing the blade to clash against Earl's creation. I meet my opponent's gaze through his hooded mask as we collide, but I'm overwhelmed by force almost immediately.
Stumbling back with my arms thrown off balance, Brimstone reaches out toward me. I sidestep, but the man's arm extends as if made of cotton, grasping around my tattered shirt.
I wrench away from him, the shirt ripping quickly, but before I escape him, he tosses me behind while twisting all the way around. Again, I tumble, sharp stones cutting open my flesh as they are not made of ordinary materials.
Before I recover, bone covers my skull just as a blade meets it.
This guy...
My brain shakes within my skull, but I get it under control. Rearing my head back, I shove him off, the force placing great stress on my neck. As I focus on him through the lingering dust. Pautuhm covers my greatest weakness while I inhale a deep breath. Freedom seems to fill my bones to their marrow, but the fog doesn't lessen in the slightest.
Still, between my heart beating in sync with Painsforge and Blodwyn's help, I manage to dodge the man's next swing. Barely.
Rock stabs into my flesh once again from the sheer impact speed. I twist, deflecting more steel with my arm against it. Lily also joins in, realizing that we can't as easily run from this one. Petalshield adds just that extra amount of defense to my arm, letting me block with both and not just one. As I stagger to the side from deflecting a strike, the chains from my flesh reemerge, the ones created earlier destroyed from the explosion.
I don't even have time to consider why they were so hard to recreate after they were broken. My Living Manacles stab toward the man, but I watch in surprise as his flesh and bone twist like rubber, evading each strike.
All the while, his skin begins to glow red as if heating up. I dart toward Brimstone, slashing with the scythe blade within my prosthesis. I angle it so it comes underneath the rest of my manacles, but the Angel flips the greatsword in his hand like it is a mere dagger, halting my blade with a clang.
He stares down at me as I attempt to brute force past his strength, believing in Earl's creation, but the swordsman simply kicks his blade with his giant boot upwards. The human, almost tall enough to be a Nahullo, shifts with such alacrity that I could almost wonder if he was Virgil.
A blade nearly slices my chest in half vertically before embedding itself in the hardened bone on my chin from Pautuhm.
The force flips me as searing hot pain laces my front. With my Living Manacles, I manage to stabilize myself, but it isn't easy. Brimstone is already upon me once more.
I dance on the edge of danger, my bladed arm poised for offense while also ready for defense. Lily rests within my left hand, but I hesitate to shoot her, even with the extra bullets. We only have four left after using one to test her strength.
But... as the fight lengthens with this seven-foot behemoth wielding a greatsword who shifts with such unnerving speed, I place my finger on the trigger, waiting for an opportunity. He matches every move I make effortlessly, and I am constantly on the backfoot.
Brimstone's strikes come with unrelenting force, the sheer power of that massive sword overwhelming my attempts to counter. All the while, he grows faster and faster as a dark red glow emanates from his veins, an unsettling heat accompanying each swing. It's like with every movement, his momentum grows. Brimstone. It makes sense. But where is this speed coming from? And the toughness? Eli must have given him Arcas.
Desperation sets in as I dodge and retreat, managing only a few fleeting strikes against his formidable defense. The clash of metal reverberates through the air, and the weight of his attacks threatens to bring me to my knees.
Still, I could push myself further, inhaling another gasp, creating a Ballista, or firing Lily. Blodwyn has to save his Ether for healing or when the battle reaches a calamitous high. But... No. I need to choose one.
He will kill me if I hold back any longer. I thought I could save some of my skills, both for the sake of not wasting the Ether or opportunity but to also save them as aces against Eli. Even if he's a genius, he wouldn't know about my new Ballista or my additional gasps. Sighing internally, I choose a lesser evil. I can give up a skill's surprise effect, but I cannot waste Lily this early.
I holster Lily as I force my mind to comprehend and make something real that doesn't exist. Madness lingers where the powerful gather. Since my ascension to Angelhood, Madness has been more difficult to control, but here it is easier.
And I take advantage, constructing a larger Ballista than before, identified by Earl when I told him about my new limit—six, far more extensive and tougher figments. It is shaped more like a crossbow than a simple hand crossbow, but it doesn't make it any easier to wield. A blade comes soaring for me the instant I have it formed, and I raise the weapon to block Brimstone's steel.
A shattering squeal runs through my ears as I roll against the earth once more. He can't break through my defenses, but his force still leaves me reeling. Gritting my teeth as he charges me, I pull the winch back in a hasty kneel, hauling the wire back on the crossbow.
Another shattering illusion of me doing this exact thing sparks in my mind. The Sigil. How did it know? How did it see the future? I don't... I don't understand.
However, due to the vision, Brimstone swings for me again before I'm done pondering or pulling back the string. Unlike the rest of our fight, though, he switches things. Midswing, he slaps the blade with his free hand to redirect its momentum, sending it toward my legs.
I dive with the crossbow, but I'm too slow. He slices through my Living Manacles with his emergent force as the heat has finally built up to a level that leaves singed motes of dust in its wake.
My right leg, from below the knee, sinks to the earth as I kneel painfully against the blade embedded in my left leg. I stare at the man as he rears his hand back, the gauntleted fist primed for my skull. Closing my eyes, I simply pull the Ballista's winch back further.
Darkness fills my vision as I feel a massive, blunt object crash into my spine. Coughing out the air I breathed in due to the impact, I glance behind me—the monument. The width of the sword is ten times that of my body, and up close, I cannot see the top due to the dust that refuses to leave.
I don't linger on it, however, even as another vision covers my eyes, shattering into a thousand bits of light. I act upon the vision, doing as it asks.
Brimstone charges for me, but I simply take in the ephemeral sensations. One breath fills me, the Ether spreading and loosening my chains. But it is not over.
Just as the vision displayed to me months ago, I obey and copy its actions.
I breathe in again, holding my opened chest with my fleshy hand. The inhalation comes with a boundless sensation of joy and relaxation. Strength fills me to the core as the air and the Ether within it surge into my lungs and body. Then, the Ether sinks, melding with Blodwyn and even Lily.
"Huh? Why haven't you shot me yet! I wanna join! Please!"
Ignoring the high-pitched and pleading voice, I reach down and grab the Ballista as bone reforms, covering the jagged holes in my skull. Then, the bones sink further, guarding and regenerating the cavity on my torso.
With a single heft, I ready the crossbow.
Gazing forward, I see Brimstone only a foot from me after all this. His sword is already heading for my neck, seeking to crunch through the bone.
I should have just taken Lily's help. I was too arrogant, thinking that I could defeat such figures by holding some things back. It's smart to hide things, but I have to know better when to let it all out. I may be an Angel, but so are they. And they have all been them for way longer than I. Never again.
Just because I beat an Angel as a mortal does not guarantee my victory. As I cement my mistakes within my mind, Liberation activating on its own with Instinctual Ether, I lift the Ballista.
The motion is slow in my vision, but it still occurs, just as Brimstone still nears me. His blade grows more prominent and deadly in my eye as it is redirected into my heart after shattering the bone protecting it. Still, the tip of my crossbow is not aimed at him, for he is too swift after heating up so far. Even with Tsavuk, Blodywn and I might be too slow.
He endeavors to rip the blade out and swing again, but Blodwyn wraps around the steel, preventing the man from simply escaping. Tendrils of flesh escape the gaping hole, intertwining with the metal as they seek out the man.
Brimstone hesitates for only a fraction of a second, but it is enough.
I sink my finger around the trigger.
And then, the man's chest vanishes into a mist of blood, or at least, the region around his heart. A gaping hole, the size of a desk, emerges, and Brimstone's magenta glow fades instantly. The man sinks to the floor without strength as he dies, leaving me with a greatsword in my chest.
I fall backward, twisting the steel as I collide with the monument. Deep, raspy breaths come from me as I curse myself.
So stupid. I should have just put in total effort and killed him as soon as I could. Now, I wasted Ether and... fuck... I won in the end, but... shit...
Gritting my teeth, I attempt to push myself off the steel, but I can't. I slump against the cold surface of the monument, impaled by the merciless greatsword. Blodwyn tries to help, but he can't either, as he's stuck for the time being healing himself.
Weakness suffuses us both from my breaths fading, being the primary cause for Blodwyn's inability to save me. My vision blurs from blood loss as the dust and smoke cling to the air, obscuring the figure that emerges from the chaos. A sinister smile gradually forms on the stranger's face, revealing himself to be one of Maddox's two companions.
However, I don't see the artifact he was wielding before. At the same time, he appears uninjured. I push myself again, but still, I cannot move. Living Manacles surge forward to defend me, but he doesn't care too much.
"An Angel ripe for the picking? No! One ripe after leaving a present! Maddox was right! The depths of the storms truly do have the best bounty! Nothing personal, kid, gotta feed my kids, y'know? I got way too many."
The bandit steps closer, brandishing a wicked, serrated dagger, his words a mocking thread of cruelty. Despite my weakened state, I brace myself for the final blow with my chains, guarding myself as I can while using my left hand to aim Lily. But the man moves like a serpent, avoiding my chains and my sluggish hand.
I inhale another breath, wanting to push the exhaustion until later, but just as the blade descends and I open my lungs, the bandit's head rolls off his shoulders, thudding onto the ground beside me. Blood trails the head's moving form as I follow it with my eyes before moving on to the new arrival.
A new presence emerges from the shadows, with a floating menacing scythe dripping with crimson. But... the scythe is familiar. The figure steps into the dim, clouded light, and I catch a good glimpse of the weapon.
Haen's scythe.
Is—
The scythe twirls before it hovers beside the figure who kneels beside me with the speed of Kai Vinson, a faltering shadow. No, faster than that. Then they pull down their mask as I struggle to speak with a sword in my chest.
"Just in the nick of time, eh? Let's get that sword out of you."
I smile so widely that no one would believe I have a sword in my chest.
Magenta chains intertwine over Virgil's body, but they fade in and out as if they refuse to exist on this plane. However, I know it is only a quirk of his Sigil, not a bad sign. My heart beats around the blade as even Blodwyn excites himself.
"Virgil!"
Yeah, buddy. He's back.