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

Lennon 'Bladeless Monster' Hull

"Why are you so sure Eli will be heading into Hell?"

I press Kate for a question as she prods the diminutive fire we have set up to cook some rations we brought. The native woman hums a tiny melody before bringing the meat on her stick to her mouth, ripping the sustenance off roughly and speaking with her mind to mind.

"I just know it. He won't go to any of the three Undead cities, especially not the fallen ones. There is a chance he infiltrates Heights to enter the Isaac's Archives, but I don't think he'll take that gamble. He needs a Sirza to reach any higher in strength, but he doesn't have the time to learn one from any book. He will have to manifest one himself."

I nod to her telepathic thoughts, adding my own verbally before taking a bite myself. It's been... challenging to mold my Dominion to carry things, but I can handle it. Chewing from a shaky, invisible hand is better than not eating at all.

"And to create his own, he'll have to do what all others who want to get stronger do: Push himself beyond his limits. Meaning that Hell is his only destination."

Swallowing her chunk of sustenance, my... companion agrees with a hum. But despite our thoughts, we both know a cruel truth, and Mie doesn't let us forget it.

"You two aren't strong enough. Neither am I. We need to go hunting. Both of you are ready for 8th Sigils, so kill an extra for me."

I shake my head, wiping my nose with my shoulder. It really is quite chilly down here in the Underworld. No sun bodes ill for the warmth of a place.

"Sure. We can get on that, but what are we going to hunt? The Motherbound? Demons not affected by Darklight are quite rare 'round here."

Kate's head dips lowly before she waves a hand toward the fire. A burst of energy comes from her, dousing the heat entirely as she leaps to her feet. Her eyes flicker to behind me, far above and over my shoulder.

"Seems like we won't have to go very far. Mie sees... thirty or so half a mile away. Rapidly approaching. There is even an Angel. Almost scary how common they are down here."

Standing, I agree with some of her statements. It isn't scary, but there sure are a whole lot of them. The abundance really gets my blood flowing. I stride in the direction she points to, climbing the high hill with my soul itching for a fight.

Hopefully, someone has a Soldier. I want another. If I can't use the skills from a Sigil, I'd at least appreciate the physical enhancement it will bring.

In only seconds, I crest the hill, finding a large group of varying creatures with a sickly light covering their entirety. My jaw tightens as I feel my muscles grow taut. Exciting.

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

Fuck. Is it really so hard to find a Soldier down here? I don't want a Rogue or anything else—only a Soldier. Kate is a bit more joyful as she drags a groaning and grievously wounded demon behind her, smiling because it holds an Abbot within its flesh.

She'll take it when we're in a little bit of a safer situation. Wyatt, after all, did warn us not to enter The Cabin without some preparations. I'll trust him on that one, not that I was planning to ever let it retake me. I don't need a Lighthouse anymore.

Our walk, more like a controlled sprint over the vast plains, dunes, and mountainous regions of the Underworld, passes quickly. Heights and Apathy were easy to leave behind with Kate and my speeds. But as we approach another city in the distance, a constant rhythm of shivers runs down my back, unrelenting and ominous.

Gazing ahead, I stop Kwakiteh with an edgeless blade, tapping her on the forehead as I take in the sight. What used to be the most depraved city in all of humanity, both dead and alive, has somehow turned even worse.

Demons, humans, and a variety of races, all distorted awfully by Darklight, walk mindlessly through the city, ignoring all the blood and gore. Only the vastly stronger ones, which I can tell are Angels, seem to have any sense of individuality. Still, from my experience with Fallen, they are only partially of their own mind. The Mother Below still controls them.

Closing my eyes, I let my soul roam, my senses and instincts taking over for several minutes. It's not a skill. It doesn't even include any Ether or Sigil. It is simply... experience with life and death made manifest.

Air fills my lungs, stale and cold, then it leaves lively and warm. Again and again, I let ethereal danger flow upon my skin. I trust no sense more than my gut.

Several Powers. At least a dozen. All of them are dangerous, and I can simply sense that they exist. Beyond that... I delve deeper, not using any sense other than an imaginary one. Yet, I trust my gut more than even the most precise mathematical instrument.

Four Virtues. Shining segments of danger poke out amidst the monotony. Yet, they are not the most radiant threat. A pair of more... exciting existences reside within the core of this... Depravity.

Two Dominions. Two Demigods. Two... beings far, far beyond anything I can grasp. I may have a Dominion, but I'm not even a Virtue. There is a difference between merely having and swinging a sword and being one with one. The knowledge, the experience, the instinct, and the limitless ideas are what make the distinction.

"Kill the demon. Take its Sigil and refuse The Cabin. Forge your own path, Kwakiteh Comanche. Do not fret over whether it will be wrought with darkness or not."

Kate meets my eye as Mie is likely informing her of all the threats alongside me. She knows what we are about to face. Still, she scrunches up her face.

"My last name is Summers."

I nod to her, not really caring. I lay upon what is more important.

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"Do not shirk from what must come. This city? It is a warmup to kill Eli. Eighteen Powers. Four Virtues. Two Dominions. Only if we can manage to butcher all of these will we be able to put down that man."

Both Mie and Kwakiteh stare at me with complete surprise as if they cannot fathom the sincerity in my words. They are... childish. They understand this world, but they do not truly inherit all that it means. Humanity has lost it all once before, not that either of us really cares. But it means every success is fraught with untold struggle.

"Madman. You want us to kill all of those? And for her to not even know her Sigil's name!?"

"All of them? How? We're just going to die, Lennon."

I smile at them both, devising a plan shortly. Of course, I won't simply charge in. I'm confident, not brain-damaged or suicidal.

"We can do it—bit by bit, brick by brick, life by life. Advance. Then, we'll lure Angels out a few at a time, slowly weakening them. Eventually, the bigger ones will come out to investigate, and we'll kill them as well. The end goal is at least one Dominion. Otherwise, how will we ever kill Eli?"

Kate sighs, but Mie still rages against the idea. She argues that it's stupid and irrational that we should take fewer risks and hunt in No Man's Land, where the demons are more spread out. Perhaps that is a good idea. But I like mine more.

My companion shifts, dragging the bound and armless demon to her as she slides the legendary Demonsbane from its sheathe. The moment she does so with the intention to kill the Abbot, however, the ceiling far above us, formed of high-up rock and stalactites, begins to tremble. And as it does, Mie screams in pain.

"Ah!!! What's happening! My head...!"

Curiosity rises as I wonder how an artifact has a head, but the thought lasts for only a second. Then, I fall to a knee from a piercing pain stringing its way through my skull, scraping out my brain like an icepick. Not even meaning to, I cut open the front of my face, a line of blood running down my forehead and over my right eye as I bring my Dominion under control.

Fuck! What is this!? Dammmmmmit!

I slam into the ground only a second later as blood slides out my eyes, ears, and mouth. Kate isn't much better, but I know something that might help her. Twisting my head on the coarse dirt, I shout at the woman.

"Take it! NOW!"

With my scream, I notice that the entirety of Depravity is experiencing the same effects. It's difficult to tell from this distance and from the fact that I'm on the ground now, but I hear the screams of pain. What... what is this?!

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

Elizabeth Stroudwater

The sky darkens in the middle of the day as I catch Richard's eyes. We both nod together as we instinctively know what's happening. It was not supposed to rain today. It isn't even cloudy in the slightest. Another God is dying. The world is reacting to the fallen Divinity.

Using Earl's recent invention, an improvement on Eli's wires that transmit information through code, I quickly tap out a warning that is delivered rapidly to the rest of the city. Blaring, near-deafening warning sounds come from every corner of Onyx Gate as Rich leaves our command center.

I watch the Angel sprint to the tallest building nearby, dashing up the side of it using the pair of Jumpers given to him. He moves fast, far faster than I ever could, but it's not fast enough.

The only warning the people of Onyx Gate get before my head slams against the table are those sirens. And I don't even feel the physical pain, however. All the sensations that enter my blackening vision are the incredible, mind-breaking rungs of pain that lash through me.

All the recent training? The fact I made it to the 4th Sigil doesn't even matter. Nor does the fact that I took a Wayfarer, one just as rare and equally as enticing as Wyatt's Philosophers or Earl's Gamblers, matter in any way, either.

The days and nights I've spent gruelingly pushing myself to the brink of exhaustion, only to do it again after sleeping for four hours. I've already mastered Steel and Gaseous Ether. My arms are lead, my legs barely working, and my eyes darker than black. But... none of my training matters. None of my suffering matters.

Nothing matters before a God or even a God's demise.

Mixcoatl. The Lingering Thought, The Forgotten Impulse.

I've done plenty of research on Gods recently. We even broke into Vincent's study, as well as Eli's. The one that is ripping apart my brain can only be this one. My brain is barely even functioning, but I'm still able to ramble like this only because of my recent struggle with unconsciousness every day. Then, the instant I finish training, I go back to helping Rich and Tomas with the city, recruiting, giving out food, and all the other necessities that are required.

Despite it all, I move even with the flickering darkness at the edges of my vision. Every piece of my being screams in pain. My jaw tightens so far that my teeth crack. In fact, one of them splits in half, only managing to make things that much worse.

Shuddering, I crawl to the exit of the tent. I need to get to the amplifier. Everyone must be in so much pain! How many will die from this!? I'm a 4th Sigiled! And I feel like I'm about to die!? What about the children!?

My nails dig into the hard stone, breaking easily as I drag myself out of the tent, staring up at the building Rich is painfully hanging over the edge of. I need to get there! I can help everyone with my voice!

I shuffle some more along the bricks, but the pain only grows. The sky above, the dark clouds part as a purplish aurora sets over the sky. I knew Gods dying would be destructive, but after the last few... I didn't think it would be this disastrous.

Blood spills from my eyes as my vision turns red, but I keep pushing, dragging my body by my broken fingernails. It hurts. Everything hurts. Is that? Oh... Lennox. He's curled up, smacking his head with his hands over and over again.

I need to do something! Anything!

Fuck!

I reach up, fumbling drunk with pain, to grab a railing on the side of the building to pull myself up, but I fail, unable to leverage any weight. My head hits the stone, and everything swims so much worse. Lennox is churning around my head as I can't focus. It's all so dizzy. It hurts so... so much.

More teeth crack until I finally fall limp. I can't do anything. I'm too weak. Even Rich could barely move. And he... he's an Angel. I'm just a girl—a town girl way out of her league.

Without any effort, I roll onto my back with the struggle ending. It's all so pointless. The agony in my head only accelerates to a furious rumbling, like the screeching of a descending deity. All the colors in my pupils are reddened, turned utterly incarnadine from the blood vessels in my eyes bursting.

I've absorbed much of Earl's rambling and research, learning so much about the human body, and so I know vaguely what is happening to me right now. My brain is being torn apart by psychically boosted Ether, the segments of my brain bursting and pushing against my eyes.

I'm going to die like this, aren't I? We just accomplished something extraordinary, ripping Onyx Gate and the entirety of the Territories from the Estates. But now? I'll die? And so will so many others...

It's not fair. Why is nothing fair? Who gets to decide all this? Why did Vincent have to kill this God? This one? Why not any other one? Why is this what happens when Mixcoatl dies?

My hands clench with the pain, digging the torn nails deep into my flesh. The pain doesn't even register. I've gotten good with a sword. I've gotten even better with a gun. But none of it matters to these... Godly horrors.

It's not fair.

I suppose it never was, huh? Was how my parents died fair to them? Eaten by monsters and demons after a peaceful day? My little and older brothers died without even managing to run away. Without a stroke of luck, the only two to escape from our hometown would have been Earl and Leonard.

And even then... they would have shortly died if not for Wyatt... who would have likely succumbed to his wounds if not for us. It's never fair. It's never been fair. And why would it be? It's much better for the ones who set the rules if things aren't fair.

It'd be better for me if I could set the rules, too.

This singular thought sinks deep into my mind as it slithers through the crevices in the agony, creating a tiny paradise of hope. If only... if only I had the power to change things. But I don't. Yet, that doesn't mean I don't try.

The Ether from my voice can strengthen others, imbue them with Ether, and grant them courage. If I am to die from this Godly scream of psychic death, then I'll at least grant some others some comfort in their final moments.

Blinking with strenuous effort, I think of the many children in Onyx Gate, the mothers, the fathers, the many who possess no power for themselves.

A strangled cry comes from my throat as I open my mouth, failing to utter even a single human word. But that's already too much for me. With several broken teeth, the noises come out as a wheeze for the second time. But I don't give up. Pushing my Ether into my lungs and jaw, I force the words out with all the effort I can, not caring that it will tear apart my insides.

"Don't be scared."

The three words are loud, louder than anything I've ever managed to release. As they leave my throat, I realize the city is utterly quiet. I don't hear any groans of pain or movement. I can see Lennox hitting himself, but it's turned so soft that it's inaudible. But with my words, his head rises softly, and that beating gains some energy. It's working, even if just a little.

Blood leaks from my mouth and dribbles to the floor as the passage from my teeth to my lungs is scrambled like a stew. I don't care. Again, I scream, letting out the words that need to be said.

"It will pass."

The words leave alongside blood. However, Lennox moves a little more as the shout echoes off the buildings into the city. Closing my eyes, I do it again. And again. And again. All the while, I imagine a child just like Lennox, only with none of the personal power and all of the fear and insecurity.

"Hold on."

I can hardly breathe from the path being so damaged, but I continue.

"It will get better."

Another tooth cracks, and I feel vessels within my eyes explode as the pain in my brain only worsens.

"Just hold on. A little while longer."

I feel as though I brush against something, an invisible barrier or limit. It's... ethereal, hard to describe. Impossible to describe, in fact, other than the part that it exists. I ignore it. I need to help them. I need to do something. Only I can help now.

"A little... longer."

Then something shatters. I feel an abrupt pull, something hauling me to the beyond, to a beyond, but it sends a chill down my spine. Clenching my fists, teeth, and toes, I resist, focusing on the pain. It's difficult, even harder than moving with the psychic pain, but I don't stop.

I just speak again as if to convince myself.

"You are safe."

And with it, my vocal cords rip in twain, the final word possessing a deep tone impossible for a woman to emulate. A second later, however, the pain vanishes, even as the aurora above persists. Something settles within my heart, a pair of words that I grasp before everything goes dark.

Declarative Overseer.