422 – Firm Retiracy
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The awful rumbles only a few miles away force the earth below me to tremble as if in fear of the war. I stumble for a moment as I glance at my mother, Aniwye. She shakes her head, telling me without words to forget about this city, Apathy, the home of those who were neither good nor bad in life. But I can't just look away that easily.

 

After all, the city of Undead, their eyes aflame with pale fire instead of mortal orbs, faces an onslaught from a horde of demons. But these aren't the typical demons that I know. These malformed demons exude a shadowy pallor that casts its own eerie light, infecting the very air with their malignant presence.

 

I spot a half-dozen different kinds of Motherbound in just a moment, from Fallen to Taintwroughts, impaling and destroying all that they come in contact with. Yet, with each and every passing second, the battle worsens, approaching that of an earthquake.

 

The war erupts with ferocious intensity, shaking the very foundations of the earth and sending perilous rocks cascading from the depths above. I backstep, narrowly evading a crashing spike from the high ceiling above the Underworld. The ground continues to shiver beneath my feet, and the tumultuous conflict threatens to engulf everything in its path. Yet, amidst the chaos, I find myself torn, grappling with the decision of whether to intervene in the strife that unfolds before me.

 

I need to go help my father. Aniwye will likely get pissed, too, if I take this step forward... but...

 

Intermittently, a transparent dome materializes, deflecting the onslaught of major sweeping motions of Darklight and various Powers, including the infectious light emitted by the demon-infested army. I recognize the barrier immediately as Birdie's, and I even spot her amongst the chaos and ruined buildings.

 

Violet chains streak her arms and legs, marking her as a Virtue. I break out a slight smile as she isn't alone in her might. Nearly a dozen mighty Undead Angels join the fray, their formidable strength upending vast swathes of ground and buildings as they clash with the demonic invaders. Some explode with poisonous waves of liquid, while another emits spikes of bones in every direction that protect them from the Darklight.

 

The Powers are varied, and I can't help but think of Eli. That tiny little thought blooms into a dangerous worry. I know him. He... would not miss this opportunity. That bastard... he has to be here somewhere!

 

I scan the buildings and Undead of Apathy for Eli, but I can't find him anywhere. Not that I was expecting to find the greatest genius of mankind so easily. Still, amidst their ranks stands a distinct figure, a familiar middle-aged man with one brilliant flaming eye that blazes with unparalleled intensity.

 

This enigmatic figure commands the main road of Apathy, where the vast gate lies broken and breached, with unwavering authority, his gaze instilling fear in any who dare to approach. Those who venture too close are swiftly brought to their knees before meeting their demise beneath the crushing weight of his authority. His soul, his Dominion, erupts with unfathomable strength with each and every beat of my rapid heart.

 

For now, it seems as though they are handling it. But... I can see that in the distance, more demons are coming. Most are below the 7th Sigil, meaning easy prey for someone like Isaac, but not all are. I see... a half dozen more Powers, two Virtues, and... a Dominion. That's all to join the same number of demons, minus the Dominion.

 

This means that the Undead will soon be outnumbered on almost every level. Hmm...

 

"Is this that important to you, little one?"

 

Aniwye's sudden question surprises me, and I glance right up at her as, in the corner of my eye, Virgil sharpens his daggers, fitting them into their hidden pockets once done. He's preparing himself as if he knows how this will go. Nevertheless, I answer my mother honestly, not even taking Otto or Marion's concern for the city into consideration.

 

"Yeah... I know some people there. Plus... we have to do everything we can to stop them, right? You don't want a world ruled by Her, do you?"

 

The Ogre's eye droops in thought before she nods succinctly. Drawing her massive cleaver from her back that's formed of her own Solid Ether of glass, the demon strides toward the city, not an inch of concern for friendly fire.

 

"No. No, I do not wish for that conclusion. I do not believe this will help all that much, but... I can see this is meaningful. As such, I will make it meaningful for myself as well. Wraith. Protect him. That is your only duty."

 

Virgil nods to Aniwye's words, and I give him an odd look as he listens to her like a subordinate. The masked man shrugs lightly before vanishing into the darkness between realities. Flickering away, he leaves me with Silas, Otto, and Marion. The two should-be-twins hurriedly follow after my mother as Silas ignites a cigar beside me.

 

He exhales smoke into the Underworld's already stale air with a purposeful drag that seems to hold no pleasure or meaning.

 

"You going to follow 'em? It was your idea."

 

I squint at Silas, finding his constant mood swings to be odd. Though, he's seemed to stabilize since entering the New Fields. No Man's Land isn't too far, too. I wonder how he'll be when we get there. I'm happy he's better. For a while there... I thought he was going to end it all. That worry is mostly gone, but as I see the flickering red flame in front of his pale sockets, that emotion lingers. He's still not alright. And... I don't think he will be. Ever. I wish I could do something... but... he's his own man. All I can do is be here in cases he needs me.

 

Nodding, I begin to walk toward the city. However, it doesn't stay as a walk for very long. With a short mental nudge to Blodwyn, bone grafts appear over my skull, covering me with a narrow, interlocked helmet. And as the bone grows, my heartbeat accelerates. And...

 

With every beat, my footsteps fall harder. And harder. And harder.

 

Before I even know it, I'm half a dozen feet from the first building. With another step, I'm past it, bringing my Living Manacles to bear as they are more extensive, more durable, and more deftly manipulated than ever before. My Ether practice has been futile.

 

I reach my arms out, latching onto one of the few tall structures around, a building that resembles Isaac's home in Heights. Commanding my chains, I soar toward it, landing upon the peak of the building with bent knees.

 

Breathing deeply, an inhale that fills my lungs with Ether and my body with unknowable power, I search the surroundings of the city. I'm an 8th Sigil, right? That means... I should find one to fight. If I don't, that's giving them the chance to attack weaker people, converting even more into Motherbound.

 

But as I investigate the city, a long-forgotten sensation runs through my spine. That of forced, unnatural, inhuman fear. Iva? I thought she was dead?

 

What?

 

Frantic, I scan the horizon, my eyes locking upon a slow-walking figure. Demons rush past her toward the city, but the Fallen Supreme commands her own pace. Fuck...

 

They got her? HER!?

 

I close my eyes, compelling myself to calm down. I need to relax. I won't be fighting her. I'm not ready for that, even if I'm immune to her Dominion. I just became a Virtue, and I'm not even one hundred percent confident winning against a Virtued Motherbound, seeing as they are stronger than the average Sigiled. The boons that the Darklight from the Mother Below bestows do not play around.

 

Still... this means Isaac will have to face her on his own. I... I'll just have to believe in him. Isaac was the longest standing Supreme in history. He's not weak. Isaac is... he is strong. The battle with Eli taught me a valuable lesson. Numbers can win fights, but only if the numbers added are of sufficient might.

 

And in this place? Against Motherbound that can convert people to their depraved cause? It'd take quite a mighty figure not to drop to Iva's woes.

 

While my brain works in thought, my eyes continue searching. And I quickly find an old friend, only she's in terminal danger. Blodwyns hides our Ether with his Power as I bend my legs, preparing for a great leap.

 

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

Birdie 'Reverent Shield'

 

My long-dead heart phantomly pounds in my chest as I confront the abomination wreathed in swirling darkness that emits a sickly light. It stands twice as tall as me, with four sets of horns and rippling muscles like that of a bison. With every fiber of my being, I resist the urge to recoil, knowing that even a trace of that corruptive energy could spell the end of my individuality if it is able to overcome my soul. But I refuse to yield to fear, steeling myself for the harrowing battle ahead.

 

After all, this is my home. This is the last life I'll ever get. I cannot waste it. Many days are rough, without any of life's pleasures, but it's not all bad. Luxuries still exist. Fun still exists. It's all about the outlook.

 

Summoning my Power, I conjure transparent Barriers with deft precision, shaping them into domes and walls to shield myself from the insidious influence of the demon's aura. Thanks to my Virtue, I have a greater and more precise control over the Ether within the Power. With a diamond-shaped shield clasped firmly in one hand and a spear gripped tightly in the other, I prepare to face my adversary head-on.

 

Still, the streaming Darklight melts through my Barriers with little effort. Damn... This is going to be close, huh? Where did you go, Warren!? We need you right this instant! No. Now's not the time to be focused on anything but this foe.

 

As the bull-like demon charges toward me with thunderous force, I meet its onslaught with a swift combination of Barrier and shield. Stepping toward it instead of away, remembering the many lessons with Isaac about warfare, I narrowly deflect its horn aside just in time. A single horn of its eight digs deep into my shield, piercing through my Barriers, but I don't give up or relent.

 

Sidestepping and using the momentum from the clash, I evade its follow-up with its claws. Then, with a swift and decisive motion, I lunge forward, driving my spear toward its ear with Ether exploding out of the back of my arm.

 

The strike lands true, piercing through the demon's flesh and drawing forth a gout of blood and darkness. The creature cries out in pain, speaking in the language of that awful God. It always blows my mind that these things are intelligent upon the Seventh. But before I can capitalize on my advantage, a wave of pure, unadulterated terror washes over me, suffusing every fiber of my being with a primal fear that threatens to overwhelm my senses.

 

Unlike anything I've ever experienced, this sensation transcends mere mortal fear emanating from some distant, unseen source. Around me, other Undead warriors succumb to their knees, their resolve shattered by the overwhelming dread. I know many of them are iron-willed, people who shrug off death and decay. Nevertheless, they fall in front of their own foes, readying themselves for the slaughter like hares in front of a wolf.

 

Though I struggle to maintain my composure, I refuse to succumb to the paralyzing grip of terror, clinging to my last vestiges of strength as I brace myself against the onslaught of primal fear. My knees buckle, yet I stay standing, staring at this demon directly in the eyes.

 

It's not enough. I can't move my arms at all. My shield falls to my side, hanging on merely to the strap tightened enough to cut off any circulation if I were to have any. My spear, however, taps against the stone beneath me while this bullish demon rears back a mighty claw.

 

Again, I push, leveraging all my will to force some Ether to emerge, some anything to stop the awful Darklight from taking me. Still, nothing works.

 

I meet my death with open eyes, consoling myself with the knowledge that I did my best. I did the best I could. It's true. But how is someone supposed to resist the Vicious's Dominion?

 

A quarter-second passes, ten times the span of time needed for my life to end and for another to begin. Yet, what I expect to occur does not come to pass. Instead, a brilliant, radiant, and multicolored string of thick chains wraps around that bullish arm of the demon, hauling it into the air.

 

My eyebrows shift slightly, still affected by the Dominion, but my savior is unaffected. They land with a crash beside the demon, lashing out with some more linking steel cables before kicking the Fallen away with enough force to shatter the facade of the building across the street.

 

When the dust settles just enough for my capable eyes to see, I find Wyatt Graves, the young man I thought I'd never see again, holding out a hand to me as the mask of bone on his face recedes into a smile.

 

"Hey! It's been a while, huh? Let me help you out."

 

Unable to take his hand myself, the young man clasps my open hand. The instant he does, I feel as though he takes something from me, something... negative. A weight is immediately lifted off my shoulders, and I feel... great.

 

I feel...

 

Unconsciously, I attempt to breathe, forgetting for a moment that there is no purpose in doing so anymore. Nonetheless, I can almost feel the taste of fresh air entering my lungs—of vast meadows, endless blue skies, calming rivers, orbiting moons, peaceful horizons, and everything in between.

 

Instinctively, I know a solemn fact. This is no longer the boy I once knew.

 

Even if he hadn't done this act of freeing me from this fear, I could discover it in his eyes. The last time I saw him, those eyes were simple orbs, nothing special within them besides the light of life. Now? They swirl with magnificent, ever-changing palettes of color. Merely seeing his eyes add a vibrancy to my own Undead vision.

 

A split second after our hands touch, I kick up the spear from the ground. Doing so, I find that the demon is already emerging from the wall. Nodding to Wyatt, I acknowledge the young man despite having no idea how he got here again.

 

"Help the others nearby from the fear. Then come back and help me kill this one."

 

Wyatt returns the gesture, but he doesn't leave as I just asked him to. The young man simply breathes in deeply. For a split second, the vibrant colors reemerge as I see dozens of chains emerge from his body, latching onto the Undead nearby, focusing upon the Chiefs, both the 7th and 6th Sigiled ones.

 

Quickly, before even the bullish demon returns, they begin to stand back up, though some are already converted by the Darklight, the brief instance where they were unable to move, costing them their Undeaths. Sighing, I step in front of the demon as it curses us, charging for Wyatt. My shield twists for its claw while my spear darts for its neck.

 

"Humans and corpses... learn your place!"

 

With a roar, the horns upon its head jut out, shooting toward my skull. I bounce on the balls of my feet just enough to dodge the trajectory of two, but there are six more that I can't possibly evade. Thankfully, I'm not alone.

 

Swirling chains deflect five while a fist from the side dents the final with enough force to send it reeling into the earth beneath us. Still, the demon's claw crashes into my shield.

 

I sink to one knee from the force despite the Barrier I had placed as I focus most of the Power on protecting myself, Wyatt, and the surrounding Undead from the infectious Darklight. It isn't foolproof, but it's far better than not having any protection.

 

My whole body trembles with exertion as I leverage my spear and shield to throw the claw off of me. Meanwhile, Wyatt is already upon the demon, slashing him with one bladed arm while the other draws a Colt that sends a shiver down my spine.

 

Diving forward, I join him to guarantee that the shot lands. Sliding beneath another horn that regenerates with a slimy fluid, I stab the demon in its knee. The flesh contorts around the Sigiled weapons' tip, attempting to devour it, but a cold shred of steel lines up with the demon's gut before it can honestly do anything else.

 

Roars surround us in every which way the instant Wyatt pulls the trigger, a bleak river of flowing death connecting the young man to the demon. The demon's flesh hollows out and shrinks as it falls to the ground, barely alive.

 

Surging forward, I sink the head of Talcin into its skull, poking the end out the other side. Yet as the thing wholly perishes, the roars only grow in volume. I turn around to find nearly every Motherbound in the surroundings staring Wyatt and me down with an apocalyptic intent.

 

I shuffle toward the man as I watch two 6th Sigiled Motherbound, newly converted Undead, have their heads severed from an appearing shadow. That same shadow spins slightly as his clothes billow beside Wyatt. Breathing heavily, the man behind a mask warns us both.

 

"I don't know why, but Lily just angered half the horde. That scary one is still walking toward Isaac, but just about all the rest are on their way. I'll slow them down the best I can so you guys can take them one or two at a time."

 

Squinting, I don't recognize the man, but I do notice that he's living. Hmm... So Wyatt brought more than himself. I suppose that only makes sense. Wyatt nods to his ally before the masked man vanishes again.

 

"Okay, just be careful. Don't get caught."

 

I tap the young man with the shaft of my spear as the nearby Chiefs retreat toward us. Reece, the man I brought here with me from my position in Heights, is the closest one to me.

 

"Keep formation. If any of you are affected by anything, ask this man for help. He can cleanse you of ailments. Does that include Darklight, Wyatt?"

 

Hoping against hope, I cling to the little bit inside of my flesh that he flushed out with a simple touch.

 

"As long as it isn't too much, yeah. I can take it from you and then cleanse myself of it."

 

A brilliant grin crosses my lips as a dozen Angels, some newly turned, some not, rebound toward our faltering line of five. We might just stand a chance until Isaac is done with Iva.

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