My head instantly swings up to look above me, the voice of a man I hate more than any other caressing my eardrums. Sitting above me in the crook of moonlight that falls into the crevice of sandstone I stand within is Alexos, the Phantom Pain.
Master of illusions, both internal and external. Demon follower. Mass murderer. Outlaw. Slayer of Edmund Dudley. Alexos once more graces my eyes. Anger burns within me as a little less caution is used compared to the last time I met him. My heart rate spikes, and I clench my fists tight enough to crush stone as I stare at the man with spheres of hate.
I doubt I'm a the stage where I can even remotely get close to defeating him, but I am at the Sigil that Edmund was when he died. A 3rd Sigil. I can at least hold on for a while, right? Long enough for Virgil and Earl to show up? But then what? I'll just get us all killed.
The thought sobers up my rageful fury, making it simmer to a more comfortable hateful indignation. I can wait. The revenge can wait until I can complete it. Otherwise, not only will I die, but so will Virgil and Earl. They're not that far away, after all.
And apparently, I take too long to reply, lost in my anger and hate, as the Alexos hops down from the opening to the bottom of the crevice. He joins me in standing beside the now-harvested Mandaamin.
"What? Are you too amazed at seeing me to reply? I saw your shiny boots from like a mile away. Not really, but I wasn't that close when I spotted them in the ravine. You should be careful with those things. Like a whore that screams for attention. Hard to ignore or leave alone. Good to see you getting stronger, though. How you been, lil' roach?"
I grit my teeth so hard I swear something will break in my jaw as I force myself to speak through my closed teeth.
"I've been fine. What are you doing here?"
The man of illusions' face shifts in a mirage-like way as he sits on one of the rocks within the crevice. Then, Alexos puts his chin in his hand like he's thinking before answering.
"Y'know, just wandering around before we arrive. The watchful gaze has only lessened, not expired. The right words or scenes rouse focus... I hope you are ready for the arrival."
The cryptic tone that he likes to use so much confuses me. But as Alexos' hand moves in the air, creating an illusory image of a stormy cloud, I understand. He's talking about Hura. The demon has been watching over his every move lately, and his focus has only lessened on Alexos, but not left entirely.
An idea comes to mind about the surveillance that is happening to Alexos. The man obviously wants my help with something, and if I could just get him to say it outright, it would make everything so much easier.
If somehow we could remove, or at the very least impair, the surveillance, we could just speak. I hate the man, but priorities exist in this world, and the enemy of my enemy is my friend. At least for now, because I hate him too. I'm sure he knows that, though.
Virgil mentioned on the ride here while we were discussing the recent fight that his Mask could prevent the foresight from the Hunter that attacked me. Could it also prevent surveillance? Maybe. Is there a way I can ask this to Alexos without him being exposed?
I need to be careful with what I say, though. Alexos mentioned that the right words or images rouse focus, so I should probably avoid anything that can be seen as dangerous, threatening, or risky. Keep it to mundane or uninteresting topics while still staying on point.
For now, however, I need to buy time, or Alexos might get suspicious, angry, or something else. Who knows, the man is quite mad, after all. In the middle of my buying time, however, I come up with a question that might work.
"We're preparing. Everything should be ready in a few days. I, however, do have a question for you. Does foresight work the same as a watchful gaze?"
Alexos looks at me for a few moments, each consisting of the face he wears shifting into a new person whose complexion is contorted in suffering. Then, after some thought, the man answers cryptically once more.
"Foresight blinded by shadow works to blind the gaze of the watchful. Foresight blinded by the light of brilliance does not. Foresight blinded by confusion does not. Foresight blinded by blood does not. Many other ways to blind remain, but they exist outside my experience."
I nod at his words, understanding what he's saying only barely. Alexos is saying that if the blind is made from light, possibly the opposite of Virgil's ability does not work. That counter foresight doesn't work either, and neither would some kind of blood ability, probably made from an Occultist.
Realization hits me that these must be all the ways he has attempted to escape his own surveillance. But if it comes from direct experience, then it means that Virgil's Ether is likely able to Mask Alexos from the watchful gaze of Hura.
Now I only need permission to go and get Virgil. I know the Darkstalker will agree if it means our chances of survival are heightened, but the issue is Alexos, as always. Will he let me get another person? I don't know. I can try to ask, though. I try to copy his way of speaking as it probably keeps the attention of the Demon Of Storms off of him.
"May I acquire an associate? They stalk the edges of focus."
Alexos once more stares at me with his ever-changing face before nodding. Then he stands and points out of the crevice.
"Shall we?"
Satisfaction rushes through me as my plan comes together. I make my way out of the crevice while constantly looking behind me. I just keep expecting Alexos to disappear from my vision and fade from reality like a ghost. Like he was never here and was only a leftover hallucination from the Concoctions.
But he doesn't; the odd man, who haunts my future plans with his presence and gives me a final goal, follows me out of the crevice where the Mandaamin hid and through the ravine. I climb down from the wall using my Chainlink Boots and reach the ravine floor covered in sand. Then I turn to see how Alexos gets down from the hole in the sandstone wall about twelve feet up from the ground.
His solution both surprises and impresses me. I expect a master of illusions like him to be unathletic, but my assumption is proven wrong as he just jumps down and lands on his feet with minimal effort. The dust barely even billows up from his landing. Then he looks at me for direction.
I shake my head and continue moving toward where I last saw Virgil. He was in the opposite direction of the ravine, searching for the Mandaamin with Earl. While I move through the tumultuous terrain, I feel the need to one-up Alexos. If I can't kill or fight him, I have somehow put him in his place. Otherwise, I won't feel like I've improved since first meeting him. He treated me like a toy to place with back then. Never again.
I need a sign that my efforts matter. That the goalpost is at least at the end of the road, even if I can't see it.
To do so, I turn around and address Alexos with a question.
"Wanna race?"
Alexos, camouflaged by the shifting face he wears, stares at me in confusion. I take that confusion as a yes as I bolt away from him toward Virgil.
And so, I begin running, imbuing myself with Braided Ether and pushing Adrenaline Surge, Ironheart, and even Struggler Defiance to their limits. Over the course of five minutes of running, jumping, climbing, and parkour, I push myself to my limit in hopes of beating Alexos.
Ground flies out from beneath me as I move. A single step sends me several feet, and I make several a second. Whenever the ground doesn't permit running, I resort to jumping here and there, using bursts of Ether in my legs to get just that extra boost to reach where I seek.
Whenever I know I can't make a jump, I use the Bloody Palm as a piece of wrought iron to slam into pieces of sandstone to keep my hold on it. The artifact of a left hand with a toughness of tempered iron easily pierces into whatever I bang it into and aids me in my race across the ravine.
While I do this, however, I hear a pattering of footsteps behind me. Calm, languid, and unfettered feet effortlessly touch the stone. A far cry from whatever I'm doing. I turn back and see Alexos running across the ravine just behind me with his hands in his pockets. The ground disappears beneath him just as fast as it does to me.
Fire builds within me as I see him rush after me so lackadaisically. I renew my race with even greater drive.
Cuts, scrapes, and even a single impalement by stone happen as I remove caution and only seek to move as fast as possible. Stone breaks beneath both of my hands in my pursuit of speed. Rocks shatter beneath the force of my legs, pushing me into the air. Sand flies around me from the sheer velocity of my body as the air around me picks it up and brings it along.
I use all of the skills I have ever learned or come up with, which admittedly are not many, but they do increase by pace rapidly. Bloodhound's Step allows me to move over treacherous terrain, the four points of contact keeping me stable. I copy Virgil's way of walking to move through tight spots, as his feet are always close together and quiet. This prevents any rocks from falling underneath me and also stops me from slipping. I even return to my roots of climbing trees and jumping around like a child.
The countless hours of playing in the forest and running around like a lunatic come in handy when you have to climb rocks, shuffle over mud, and scale sheer walls.
And yet, the man continues running behind me with his hands in his pockets. Even for the parts that I climb or jump at, he just takes one hop at a time with his feet like a deft mountain goat and easily overcomes the obstacle. His Sigils must include multiple Rogues, no way a human can move like that otherwise. The dexterity needed is inhuman and impossible for any but the most skilled Rogue.
Actually, at this point, I think I can pin down what his Sigils might be!
He has to have at least two or three Rogue Sigils to move as fast as he is, even at the 6th Sigil. And his illusions likely come from a Scholar Sigil or two. I doubt they come from any of the other mental Sigils except for maybe Mentalist. Oh! It could be a Mentalist in conjunction with a Scholar.
Alexos can make both internal and external illusions. That would require both of those Sigils, right? Scholar for the outward manifestations and Mentalist for the inner. Then Rogue Sigils round him out for survivability and the speed to take advantage of his illusions.
These thoughts break through into the forefront of my mind from the use of Ironheart's parallel ideas. However, I quickly toss them to the back in favor of more focus. Distractions can not be tolerated right now.
Just as I begin to feel tired and my breath becomes heavy alongside a pounding headache, I come across a part of the ravine that seems impossible to cross. All that exists is a massive drop at least twenty feet across, where the gully continues on the other side of the fall. The whole drop is overshadowed by an overhang of sandstone, dirt, and rock.
As I reach this most challenging obstacle, Alexos comes up from behind, as lackadaisical as usual. His face appears relaxed and absent of effort. Anger builds within me to a boiling point as I do something foolish. Instead of taking my time to cross the hole in the ravine that leads to the deep dark below, I step back.
Then, I burst forward with the fastest start I've ever had to any movement of mine. Just before my feet touch the hole's edge, I push off and jump toward the thin overhang of stone that crosses the whole ravine.
I feel weightlessness and an unparalleled adrenaline rush in my mind as I soar through the air to the overhang. My eyes only briefly flit across the abyss that lurks below as my focus pierces into the overhang. My jump seems insufficient to reach the overhang, as when I stretch for it, the fingers of my left hand don't entirely extend far enough.
Time feels too slow as I regret my actions and foolishness. It doesn't matter if I beat Alexos in this stupid game, and now I've gone and killed myself for no reason. Dammnit. I'm so ridiculous.
My entire life begins to flash before my eyes as my arms frantically wave at the overhang, trying desperately to break the laws of reality to somehow stretch enough to catch myself.
From my early life living alone with Ma on the ranch to the occasional visits to nearby towns, the highlight of my whole childhood. I loved nothing more than to go with Ma to new places. Exploration and adventure were my two favorite things growing up.
They still kind of are. Only now, I love the exploration of Ether, Sigils, and the world at large. No longer do I seek to find a cozy cave or a beautiful view. Those days are gone, no matter how I wish it wasn't the case.
These flashes of happiness rapidly pass and are replaced by the years of sadness that follow when I matured a bit more and when Ma became sick. When I had to take care of her for several years. No longer were the trips wondrous and angelic. The experience was no longer one to look forward to.
Instead, it was worried-filled, stressful, and chore-like. Why go to the general store three days away for supplies when I can spend more time with Ma instead? I hated going, but I went because she insisted. I did a lot of things because she asked me to. Some things I regret, and some I don't.
But that time passed only a bit slower than my early childhood. What comes next is somehow the most prolonged period of flashes despite being the shortest amount of time by order of magnitude.
My entire journey from the day that Ma died plays through my mind like an illusion. Everything I've ever experienced since the night I slept in the cold with Butter comes rushing at me. Hate rebuilds and reaches new heights for Alexos and Hura throughout the flashes because I am forced to relive Edmund's death and, eventually, the visions of the demonic woman.
However, I feel even closer to my friends and allies as I also relieve the happy moments with them. Hurt slaps me in the face at Lonnie's death and how little I seemed to care. A little boy died right before me, and I pushed it aside. How could I? Who cares if I was stressed? That's not right. At least I freed him from his suffering, though. Hopefully, that will help me atone.
Sorrow stings me even harder at the loss of Leonard. Twice do I lose him. The slightly dull but dependable man was a rarity. He gave kindness and support to any who would give him the slightest reciprocation. Leonard was the type of man to follow you to Hell if you asked him to. Too bad he never got the chance to gain a Sigil and protect himself.
Eventually, the flashes of my life catch up to where I am now, and when they do, something unexpected happens. The Bloody Palm acts when nothing else could save me.
My left forearm and hand, which are made out of a 5th Sigil artifact, begin to twist and contort like a screw. Pain spikes like someone twisting my skin with their hands, only times a million. I hear bones crack, blood vessels burst, and muscles tear as my left arm stretches, twists, and contorts into a rapidly spinning but remarkably thin spear that stabs into the overhang above me.
Evidently, the artifact wishes for me to live.
The spear made unnaturally of my flesh allows me to catch onto the overhang just as a whisper crosses the boundary I set up at my elbow to block the Blood Palm. Either my defenses failed, or they did not see it as a threat to be stopped. As the word hits me, I wonder if the artifact will try and make peace or meet me in the middle.
L̸̦͖̊i̷͎͒̉̀v̸̝͌̚ë̵̛͓́̊!
Yeah, that's about what I expected. The words are hard to understand with how crackly and distorted they are, but I can roughly get the gist. All it tells me is to live. That sounds about right for the dammable thing.
However, I quickly recover from the near-death experience as I hear cracks come from the overhang. Hairline fractures enter my eyes as I peer over the structure that holds me up. Seems as though I'm too heavy for this small overhang.
So, to get off of this damned thing and get across to the other side, I grab my left arm with my right and swing using the spear of flesh stabbed into the stone above. I rapidly speed up and gain momentum as I hear the overhang's cracks and stresses grow increasingly.
I still can't jump, though. I am not swinging fast enough to get across or even to one of the sides. So, instead, I stay. I continue to build up my momentum with the swings from my arm turned into a spear. Cracks continue to resound through my ears as my heartbeat crescendos and reaches a never-before-seen rate. It feels like it's about to burst out from my chest from the stress of falling into the abyss below.
Finally, I get the speed needed to reach across, but I'm on a backswing at this point, and the overhang is closer to the side in front of me than behind me. So, I clench my teeth and swing myself forward just as I hear the overhand above me break.
The entire construction of stone, sandstone, and dirt shatters into a million pieces as I fly out from under it with an arm almost as long as I am tall. I barely reach the other side as bursts of rock hit me in the back. The impact against the edge of the stone knocks the wind out of me as I force myself over and onto my back, sprawling over the sandstone.
I stand wearily, out of breath, odd-footed from my spear arm, and near exhausted. Immediately I release all my flows of Ether to relax as I look at Alexos, who passed the gap before me. Seeing him standing, tapping his toes, and waiting for me, my heart sinks.
That and I hear shouts of concern from Virgil and Earl from upfront. They are probably worried that I'm hurt by the sound of falling rocks. Indignation rises, and my hate for Alexos grows even further, along with a sadness that I've not improved enough to even tire him.
Shaking my head and giving up on the foolish race, I walk forward to meet Virgil and Earl. While doing so, I feel the spear of flesh that is the Bloody Palm slowly reform into my hand.
As I walk past Alexos, however, to continue, I hear heavy breathing come from the man. No way near as deep as mine, but it's proof that I at least made him put in effort despite how much he didn't show it. I guess he is a master of illusions, so it's only natural for him to hide it.
A smile crosses my face as I turn my back to him. The goalpost might be out of sight, but at least it's there.