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Wyatt Graves

"I heard what happened below from Virgil."

The gunslinger, whom I've revered for as long as I've known him, reclines on a chair atop this hill several dozen miles from Primary and the inner city of Onyx Gate. For us, it's just a few seconds to return, almost as if we never left at all.

I nod to Johnny as I take the seat offered to me, an identical thin chair placed into the grass.

"Yeah. I figured. Are you working with Tomas, or did he give you the keys?"

Caldwell snorts with laughter, tapping his whiskey against the arm of the chair. Shaking his head, some of the liquid spills out. I can tell he's not drunk, as even the most wasted Johnny could nail a fly from a mile away. He simply doesn't care about the lost liquid. It's rare to see him so... relaxed. Though... still... I can tell anyone else's nerves would be shot if they were in his place. I'm just a fighter. He actually has to deal with the chaos left behind.

"Of course not. We're in this together. Many simply look to me first. I am the most seasoned and well-known to the common folk."

I don't question his words, simply watching the sunset with the man. That's why he brought me here. He just wants to talk.

"I've been doing this job for a long time. A long, long time. And in that time... I've learned much. War... this war will destroy so much that I wonder if it is even worth it."

Biting my lip, I endeavor to find a response for him. It's simple, though. No matter how little remains after, it'll be preferred in comparison to surrender. Before I can say it aloud, Johnny continues.

"I often think of meteors—the rawness of them, the utter devastation of a single strike. It's been thirty years since I last saw one. It landed within Lawless Lake, birthing devastation to all the surrounding lands with the waves it created. Our wars are much like the meteors. We destroy, destroy, and destroy. Still, life blooms after the cataclysm."

The sun in the distance sets wholly, and I sense a vibration coming from it. It's some kind of dissonance, as if the very sun is battling against the dying of the light.

Johnny, however, discerns nothing of the sort, pausing only to drink some of his amber fluid.

"We'll go to any length to survive, huh?"

Squinting, I look him in the eyes, unsure why his golden pupils are spewing such words.

"What do you mean? This isn't like you. Did you see something?"

The gunslinger nods, bobbing his head slightly as he acknowledges something. A slight shiver runs through his whole being before he actually speaks, though.

"I did. I ordered Earl to continue the experiments on the Marshall Protocols. Tonuyn took an interest in them. Granulen, too. I saw the aftermath. It was... the meteor."

My mind comes to the only possible conclusion after withstanding the might of Earl's first Marshall Protocol. It was... devastating enough to cripple a Demigod long enough for Lennon to finish him off. If he improved it...

"How bad was it? Really?"

A prolonged sigh comes from Johnny as the sun finally fades in the distance, yet the disturbance of light continues, a slight twinkling over the horizon.

"I don't know if our world will survive this war. And I'm not talking about the people. I mean the very world. With people such as you and Lennon, such as Vincent and Leviathan, your battles will annihilate whole swathes of land. How many battles can our planet take? Five? Six? Seven? I don't think it's very many."

I stare at the older man who has taught me much less about fighting and more about life. When we first met, he was a tough bastard, opening up only to Heath and Primrose. Now, I'm among the slim few he speaks so leisurely with.

"Then what are we to do? If we win and the world is nothing but ashes, what's the point? Why even think of this? You're not usually this negative."

Johnny flicks his golden pupils to me, circles of flaking blond within those whites.

"That is true. I am typically more... pragmatic. But convening with the souls of those long lost has changed how I think about this sort of thing. As for what we are to do about it, I have a plan. But... it requires you."

I shift in my seat to face the man without distraction. He does the same as the reasoning for our quiet discussion comes to light.

"What is it?"

Johnny's trigger finger points upward into the skies. No, it goes beyond that, motioning into the dark depths beyond.

"The only battlefield that won't ruin our homes is the vastness of the stars: that, or the Endless with its waters swathed in fog. However, the latter presents a risk, with the titans that lurk beneath. No one knows exactly how strong they are. Nonetheless, you will be one of the few who can fight the Gods. When you... begin the final battle. Don't look at me that way. When you fight your final opponent to end this war... please take them into one of the two."

I furrow my brow, having difficulty imagining how a fight would go over the oceans or within the abyssal skies. I don't think either would be all too advantageous for me. The water would probably be less damaging to my style.

Taking a moment longer to think, I remember the battle with Maxemista, as well as the memory I received from Remington. Now... Now, I can remember him without issue. How odd. Anyway, the fight with the God of Forests, alongside Remington's skirmish with the Mother Below, tells me something very important.

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Usen is not crazily powerful, not in frontal combat, at least. At most, it's a bit stronger than Maxemista. She's overwhelmingly mighty, but it's only because of those that she binds to herself. I am unsure how many Gods follow her, but it has to be in a dozen or more.

Additionally, I believe the Mother Below has many other planets that she has forced into submission, likely with her own Gods. Johnny knows this, too.

"Over the Endless would be better. But how do we even get that to happen? And... what about the other planets? Do you have any plans for them?"

The gunslinger sighs again, shifting back to face the now-fallen sun. His back seems weighted as he places two fingers on his temple for leverage on his chair's arm.

"I have gone over this tens of times with Elizabeth and Tomas. Your little tactician has come up with ways to create paths of 'destruction', as she put it, to lead whoever is fighting a God to the oceans in retreat. Then, they can let loose as long as they are far away from other life. Evacuations are ongoing, but there are few places for people to go anymore. The top bits of Northene and the southernmost sections of Qune are likely to be the only safe places. They've been ongoing for... two months. Since Timemi, Anodra, and Natos returned from the Underworld."

I follow along with his information, as it all makes sense. The evacuations are likely going in such an order to clear these paths for combatants. But... how is that enough to get the battle into the ocean?

Johnny sees the question on my face.

"We are going to use Earl's bombs. Marshall Protocols and Godsinkers to guide the Gods to the ocean, even if there are no fighters able to contest them. A lot will die to force the figures into the Endless, but it has to happen. If a Forerunner can be fast enough to use a Godsinker to damage and compel a God to retreat, it's worth it. Again, this is another one of Elizabeth's plans. If you're starting to see the resemblance, so am I."

The resemblance... yeah. Yeah, I'm seeing it.

This idea is awfully similar to Eli's methods—the sacrifice of others to continue his own life and further his plans.

"Yeah. I am. But... I trust her. She won't go too far. Everything she comes up with will be just. How many of these bombs do we have?"

My inquiry elicits a sad chuckle from Johnny Caldwell. The man is obviously not optimistic about this point of the plan.

"Not many. Earl's working at his fastest, with the help of Pygmies sent by Tonuyn and our best Craftsmans, but there is a limit to the materials he can Create. Twenty Marshall Protocols and three Godsinkers. That's all we have so far. Elizabeth's plan requires that many per God that we cannot fight with our own man."

Damn. That's... that's disastrous. But... maybe it's not all that wretched? After all, Lennon and I are here now. Plus, from what I've heard, Johnny is no slouch himself. He might only be a Power, but... I can feel palpable danger from him even now.

"So there is the three of us who can at least fight Gods, you, Lennon, and I. Virgil can help a bit, too, but I wouldn't count on him to take one down on his own. How many Gods do we think will come through our side?"

Johnny twists his head slightly, answering me differently than I expected.

"There is a fourth. Granulen, the king of the Grayskins, has joined us. You'll meet him shortly. With the Boulevard of Shadows at his behest, I believe he won't be any weaker than you. The number of Gods, however, is a tricky question. We've done a lot of research, tunneling through legends, myths, and all of the above to try and find a number that might have existed in total."

I nod with the gunslinger, utterly attentive to his words. The dissonance in the distant horizon is lingering, but I don't focus on it.

"Elizabeth, Tomas, and I all came to different numbers based on our own thoughts. I came up with fifty-four Gods, Tomas thought up sixty, and Elizabeth believes there to be seventy-two Gods to have been birthed on our planet."

A short, self-deprecating laugh rings out before Johnny admits his own failures.

"I am most inclined to follow her, as she has had more time to research than Tomas or me, even with her training. Of the seventy-two, she believes only a third are alive anymore. And several of those are not under Her control. In finality, we came to somewhere around twenty. But still, there is no reason to believe they will be evenly split along the Gates of Death."

I lower my head as the weight of what will come to us is made clear. I've heard the rumors that Vincent is battling the Morning Star, their war in the skies shifting weather and temperatures for whole regions. Some days, the sun rises late, some early, and a few times, partial eclipses have formed. Our greatest warrior is locked into a fight with something that doesn't matter, and we're here, waiting for the second Collapse to come.

Looking across the horizon, I know that the disturbance is him. Somewhere out there, possibly in the north or south poles, he is waging a bloody skirmish against the eldest God in history, birthed alongside the stars. The reasoning is unclear, but I've never been one to understand Vincent Harvey fully. None can. For all his life, the fate of the world has been on his shoulders.

The effects that would have on a person... I saw what it did to Eli Weiss after only twenty-something years of being in charge, feeling like his every move mattered. And back then, he did have Vincent above him. The old man has been at the peak for a century. I feel it a bit now, the omnipresent presence on my shoulders.

Still, no matter how grim it may be, I trust Elizabeth's plans. Her ideas allowed us to win the siege of Onyx Gate. The timings, placements, and personnel wouldn't have been nearly as perfect without her.

Way more would have died.

Nonetheless, for her plan to involve people sacrificing themselves... I see that the one Eli expected wasn't the one to learn the most from him. But I have one idea to add to hers, something she... she might not be willing to do just yet. Because... if she did, that would... put me at risk, too.

"Let's have all people fighting Gods carry a Godsinker. If they are losing... the bomb might guarantee a pyrrhic victory."

A gunslinger way out of his depth nods, opening the chamber of Fate Sealer while he agrees with me. Within the ports of the gun rests miniature cartridges.

"Aye. I had thought that as well. If you ever seen a cloud of burning flowers bloom, do not be distracted. Steel your heart into ice."

I stand, pushing myself out of the chair to end our conversation. Johnny sits up, joining me as he extends an arm. We shake hands quickly while grabbing each other's forearms.

"I will. Just don't go dying anytime soon, Johnny. I don't know where we'd be without you."

My... captor-turned-mentor pats my shoulder gently before walking away, trekking down the hilltop we have spent the last hour slowly.

"You'd be right here anyway. All I did was show you around the countryside. And... I can't make any promises. All men have to have a creed, my boy. You know mine. You know mine well. I'm a rancher above his bend. We'll see the long and short soon, no matter how things turn."

A gentle wave is the last I see of him before his body shimmers, and the dirt beneath him explodes with force. Johnny leaves me alone on the grassy knoll with leaves floating over the greens with the billowing winds. Closing my eyes, I focus on his departing presence. He...

When we first met, Johnny Caldwell was a son of bitch. He was manipulative and frustrating, but he was always fair. He was honest. He was... protective and righteous.

So, I won't let him simply leave. I can feel his Ether washing over his form to guard his body against his own brutal speed. Accretion Ether gathers and detonates beneath his feet, causing devastating depressions in the earth while he moves. Seeing the Ether move like that is both surprising and inspirational. It is a way to improve Arbalest, but I don't think about that now.

No matter how shocking it is that he has Accretion.

Instead, I dive into my Dominion, reaching out as far as I possibly can, sinking my mind into our recent personal contact. I breathe in the air, and Ether rushes into my lungs in suicidal amounts for anyone who is not me. Then, I connect my soul to Johnny's.

He is... untalented. That is the easiest way to put the gunslinger's struggle. His body doesn't accommodate Ether naturally like Bonfire's body or my flesh. His soul isn't unnaturally firm, either like Lennon's, and he is unable to keep up with unique how like Virgil. And he doesn't have a grand lineage to carry him like Abraham and myself.

He's like Virgil. A simple man forced to become more. He's had his moments, like learning his Glitch from Remington's book, something I'm positive few could. But... that's all, really.

The boons he has received from Heather Graves and Canyon can be taken from him. They are not his own power.

So... I give him something that will forever be his.

Despite the distance, I release his chains, and I... take a risk. The man abruptly explodes in speed, altering our connection, yet I hold on deftly with my soul. Then, I start to change his.

He wouldn't be against it. I know he wouldn't be. He just... wouldn't want the help. He'd rather I give it to someone who needs it more or could do more with it.

But I don't care. I want him to have this. I want... I want Johnny to live a long life, even if that is not something he can see for himself. And I cannot always be with him.

So, I contort his soul, forcing it to become denser and more pronounced. He stumbles mid-step and falls straight on his face from the manipulation, which only makes things easier for me. While twisting his soul, I continue pulling on those chains with all I have.

I can hear him writhe in agony through our link. It pains me to hear him like this, but I don't hesitate for even a second. I continue. Keeping the shape as I've always known it to be, I strengthen his soul at the cost of my own soul, burning away much of the growth I've received recently with Lily's help.

I'll get more souls to consolidate my Dominion. He won't.

Through the connection, I tell him to take an eighth, to become a Virtue. Then, I dismiss our link, immediately falling to my knees as I exhale nothing but hot air. All the Ether was already expelled, enhancing my ability to do such a gargantuan task.

An idea arises when I become more skilled at this as I struggle to breathe. If I could create a mind with Soulful Ether to do that on its own... I could... wait!

No... I had an idea, but I lost it. It'd be useless to have Soulful Ether enhance me, as Lily and my Dominion can already do it together. There is something else here, though. Something big. I just... have to figure it out.

Nodding my head in the assurance that I'll figure it all out, the sun rises in the distance despite the recently fallen star. Squinting, I realize that the light is coming from the east, but it is not shaped like a ball any longer. It is... tree-shaped? It's the closest comparison I can come to as a shiver enters my heart, Blodwyn spewing out his fear.

"Do you feel that? The Ether... War Ends With Ashes. That's a Sirza, Wyatt. A fucking Sirza that we have no idea whose it is."