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Blake 'Deathsguard' Nightingale
My feet hop lightly from side to side as I cannot stop myself, the excitement, anxiety, and everything in between boiling underneath at once. Fear settles itself under my ribcage while Lennox nestles his stoned body beside me, the carriage carrying our small group along the many other vehicles.
I'm the secondary party, the ones to infiltrate and attack Weiss' compound after the leading group. I'm fine with not being in the main group. I'm not the most powerful or most useful in a fight, and I know that. I just wish I wasn't so far behind the others. Lifting the cloth on the carriage as we speed through Blackcrink, the centermost city of Blackreach and its defacto capitol, I take a gander at the sieging party.
First are the bigshots, standing at the front while their vigilant eyes scan the surroundings for any ambushes, the three men who lead us all. Surely, Eli knows we're coming. The only question is if he wants to ambush us before or after we enter the compound.
Edward Dudley, the Bloodied Beast, son of the Bloodhound and the inheritor of Shiver, stands at the forefront. His blade of crimson blood is already drawn while the sanguine liquid he's known for leaks down his fingers coated in that red armor he forms with his own essence.
The Bloodied Beast sends a shiver down my spine despite the fact I know he is a good man. He's respectful, kind, and a loving husband. I've seen it all. But some people simply exude a different type of aura. He is one of them. The way his blade digs into the top of the carriage they stand on irks me. I don't know why. But it does.
Beside him is another with a similar feeling, Tomas, the Inhuman Wolf. His Power is already at large, the figure covered with hair and nearly the size of a Rougarou. The nails of his claws hang half a foot from the edge of his hands like brutal daggers that could sever any artery. I trust him a bit more. He's saved my life and many others time and time again, but still... the way he looks... Maybe I simply shouldn't be the one to judge.
The main figure that calms me is the one who stands stoically behind them. Edward organized this all while Tomas will now lead the charge, his knowledge of war beyond anyone else here. While that holds, Johnny is the eyes, the overseer. Little can escape his vision, and until we enter the depths of that compound, his Golden Eyes are our guide.
I can see his beautiful pupils peer every which way. Blackcrink seems not to be expecting us, all the citizens terrified and hiding. Better that than they attack us, I suppose. Edward's presence manages to calm the local Hunters as he shouts out toward any who approaches not to interfere.
Underneath, lower on the carriage and meant to follow those three are five more silhouettes whose names now ring aloud in the frontier. One of them always did.
Lennon Hull sits with lidded eyes, uncaring of the movement and motion around him as he peacefully caresses the blade he stole from Sequester's corpse. As he put it, it was 'Quite nice'. I've seen Rougarou and Letiches in person, but that man is a different kind of beast. A drop of blood, a hint of challenge, and he pounces without ceasing. He is only with us for that very kind of challenge. I worry about when Johnny grows. Or Wyatt. Undoubtedly, Lennon will see them as worthy opponents. The Bladed Monster does not lose a fight.
Beside him, not entirely ignoring the swordsman but definitely not paying attention to him, is Kwakiteh, or Kate, as Wyatt calls her. I'm not entirely sure why she's joining us, as she won't say why, but it feels personal by the way she glares hatefully outwardly. It's almost as if every living thing deserves her hate. The Maliced Eye is hard to ignore.
And across from those two are a trio of men far less grim. Or at least one of them is. Using his metallic arm, Wyatt pokes and prods at Earl's knee while Virgil tries to ignore him. The Wendigo, Wraith, and Genius quickly devolve into an argument as Virgil tries to calm them both down, only to fail and join them in the bickering. I can't discern what it is they are talking about, but Johnny fast puts a stop to it.
"Shut it."
His low, severe, and harsh tone instantly quiets the three, returning them to solemnity. I can't help but smile just a tad at their goofiness. Even in such a grim time, there can be some happiness.
Glancing to my side, I find Silas hauling Lennox to gravity just as Johnny did to the other trio. I keep my focus on the Undead man for several moments as his gaze falls to the floor. He's been getting worse lately. Slowly he's been getting up later and later, wanting to do less and less. When he first reached the surface, he was ecstatic, but I think it's getting to him. I just hope... I just hope he doesn't lose what makes him human.
Bonfire and Abraham stare at each other from opposite sides of the wagon. I keep shifting my attention to them, making sure that they don't explode into some kind of fight, but luckily, they manage to calm themselves. And beside my legs, ruffles fur as Dakota sits patiently, gazing up at me in earnest. I know he wants to be with Wyatt, but it's too dangerous for him to follow that closely.
A pitter-patter above me helps me locate Skyswain as she tops our carriage, vigilant of any threat. Her other job is to forward any orders from Elizabeth and Millie within our command center, not far away. She and Abraham share the job, but there is always a chance one or both methods are cut off by some devious trap from Eli.
The final member of my carriage is Primrose as she gloats and pouts that she's not within the leading party. I don't say anything to her, and instead focus on checking on the rest of my group. Behind us are even more soldiers from Bent, along with many of Edward's followers, alongside Bado and everyone else, including Frank, Frozen, Clumsy, etc.
Many iterations of this plan passed through Tomas, Millie, and Elizabeth's minds before they settled on one.
In the original plans, Wyatt, Virgil, and Earl were supposed to be the first, second, and third to enter in that respective order. That was because many of us thought the Bloody Palm would be back in time and more potent than ever, but sadly, that is not the case. The artifact is still dormant and unacting.
So, instead, the plan has changed. Tomas will be first, with Edward and Johnny behind him. If anything genuinely crazy happens, Johnny will be able to Glitch it. Not far behind them will be Lennon and Kwakiteh to handle most of the Mannequins that are sure to be here. And finally, Wyatt and Virgil are meant to protect Earl as he helps guide everyone through.
Then, that's where we come in. We, as in, Silas, Primrose, Lennox, Bonfire, Abraham, and I, are meant to help clear any dangers with our versatility while aiding the group in front of us.
I sit after pacing and shifting about too much, locking my gaze ahead as we near the compound. Staring out the lifted cloth, I see the entirety of Weiss' compound in all its glory.
The walls rise high, constructed from weathered stone and robust bricks that have withstood the test of time. It is obvious that this place was built even before Eli Weiss came to power, the genius taking it long after its prime. Moss and vines cling to the outdated facade, obscuring most of what lies within. The entirety of the thing is an enigma and the biggest worry about our plan.
The Bados, even when flying over, can only see a mist that obscures the land, so none of us truly know what lies within. We can only hope that whatever is inside doesn't kill our battering ram.
As I watch, the air crackles with an eerie tension as everything begins at once. The silence is abruptly shattered as a figure emerges from the front carriage. He's monstrous, akin in size and ferocity to the legendary Rougarou. With a primal force that hurtles him with a blistering, almost imperceptible speed, he slams into the wall. If I didn't know Tomas any better, I'd think he was a wild beast driven only by rage.
The impact reverberates through the compound, causing the ancient defenses to crumble like fragile glass, yet for a moment, a feeble light blossoms along the stones. Bricks rain down in chaotic disarray, revealing a glimpse of the inner sanctum. It's a breach in the fortress, a chink in the armor of Eli Weiss.
I smile at the opening until the sound of thunder strikes the air. A brief glimpse of light is all I hear before the world turns white. And a second later, when the air clears, and the sound fades, all I see is Tomas falling to a knee, scorched and struggling to breathe.
Wyatt surges forward, but a half-dozen dark tendrils hold him still as Tomas' form flickers, returning him to his prime. The soldier shakes his head roughly as he turns and glances at the golden pupils sharing his gaze.
Johnny nods at Tomas, and the Wolf proceeds. After the defenses, whatever kind of lightning strike was embedded into the walls fades, Tomas strides forward unstopped. Once the man reaches several hundred feet, we follow him beyond the borders only to find a featureless landscape.
Within the vast walls, nearly a mile in each direction, there is nothing. Not a building, not a stream, not even a living thing. The eye given to me by Earl hums as I can't find a single breathing thing other than the grass on the ground. Streams of Vigor float haphazardly through the atmosphere, but none lead to anyone other than us.
I don't even have to speak on this abnormality as Abraham enunciates, his mind transferring Johnny's words to his lips for us to hear.
"The whole place is flat. Not a speck of anything. Something must be hidden by some kind of illusion or distortion. Wyatt and I will investigate. Stay vigilant."
Johnny wanted Abraham to stay behind for this very utility as the Mentalist recently expanded his limit for Allude's distance many times over. He could act as a commander who could reach every single fighter at once from afar, but Abraham refused to do so.
I can't say I agree with his decision, but I can understand why. He hates no one more than his father, and that is precisely what his father did all the time. He'd lead from afar before showing up at the last minute for the spoils. Only when forced to fight would Irham, and that was his downfall.
Nevertheless, I nod to his words as I trail Johnny with my eyes, watching him and Wyatt move forward. The silvery bronze arm on Wyatt's right is hard to ignore as it is so brilliant. Truly, I cannot fathom how Earl does it. The greatest thing ever to happen to Johnny's little rebellion was those kids showing up at his doorstep.
I know they lost some along the way, but those who remain are vital to everything we do. Elizabeth the commander, Earl the inventor, and Wyatt... Wyatt, the face-beater. He's really good at beating people up—and killing them afterward, of course.
The two stride forward while glancing everywhere while our vehicles stay still, unmoving, yet not inactive. Each person scans the horizon and the faraway walls for any sign of a threat. Yet nothing comes. Seconds turn to minutes until Johnny gives Wyatt the go-ahead.
And with permission, the young man spreads his arms outward before the air itself seems to falter. Unlike before, when he had to breathe, creating an inherent limit in his lungs to how much Ether he could siphon, that limit is now much higher.
I can see bends, currents, and rivulets form in the air as it all hurtles toward him. A thousand different colors shimmer as the Ether in the atmosphere twists toward the young man. And as it does, the very essence of our surroundings shifting, an object is revealed to my eyes.
A massive, gigantic, metallic hatch lies under Wyatt's feet, invisible to him and Johnny until he breaks the illusion. If Wyatt could shatter Alexos' illusions, then no one could hold him back from seeing the truth, especially not anymore with his newest Sigil.
Though, all that additional potency means the cost is just as detrimental. A pang in my heart resounds as the man buckles over, falling to his knees as he coughs out blood and phlegm from the effort. Johnny holds onto him before pulling him back and waving for Lennon to come forward.
The Bladed Monster steps up to the challenge, striding past Wyatt's coughing fit and Edward's oversight as he draws his blade. A slick sheen of the sword leaving the scabbard is heard even from my location several dozen feet away.
Then, the man steps back while Johnny pulls our friendly Wendigo back. And as he does so, Lennon Hull raises the blade in his hands over his head.
I expect him to say something, to grunt, or even to move forward with a burst of momentum, but nothing of the sort occurs when Lennon swings his blade. One moment, the Claymore is raised. The next, the entirety of the steel hatch, more similar to a vault door than an entrance to a building, is cut in half.
An ear-piercing screech haunts my thoughts as the hatch grinds and cracks, falling in on itself and downward to reveal a staircase over a dozen feet wide. Confused and wanting to get a better look, I hang myself off the carriage before letting go. Then, as I walk forward, another bang resounds as the right half of the hatch slides downward; I motion my team to follow me. They do so without hesitation or distraction, except for Lennox. It's a risk to take him, I know, but I have to.
He will join this battle with or without our permission, and at the very least, I can be here to protect him. Plus, the Undead that I can call oft calm him down and keep him more... sated. I hate to shift him back to that terrified and jittery boy he was within the Underworld, but if that keeps him alive, then I will.
So, I move forward, treading carefully behind those in front of me as we descend into the depths of the underground bunker. Stepping atop the hatch over six feet thick of solid steel, I can't help but gasp in horror. Did Lennon cut that?
What. The. Fuck.
A shiver runs down the entirety of my spine as I catch a glimpse of him and Edward at the bottom of the stairs. My evaluation of Lennon only continues to rise, and so does that of Edward. The Bloodied Beast was wanted by Lennon for a battle, but they agreed to postpone it.
An audible breath from below fills me with determination to walk further down, and I follow that motivation. With every step downward, however, a sense of foreboding hangs heavy in the air. The atmosphere continues to darken as no lights exit, and it's already nighttime. Thankfully, all of us know Nightvision to some capacity, so it's not an issue, but that doesn't lessen the tension.
I continue downward, quickly catching up to Wyatt, Earl, and Virgil while the other five are further ahead. But as we reach the end of the labyrinthine tunnels, what lies before us leaves us all in stunned disbelief.
The bunker's entrance is nothing like we anticipated. It resembles a grand hall, the kind that might host extravagant balls for nobility—the type for the mighty Estatesmen without a worry for life. The walls are adorned with intricate tapestries, and chandeliers hang from the vaulted ceiling, casting a warm, golden glow. The floor is polished marble, reflecting our bewildered faces. Low fires are the only lights that exist other than the chandelier above as another candle ignites itself every second as if some ghost is leading the lines of blaze.
The shadows eat at my insides as I tenderly reach for my blossoming Power, just making sure it is still there.
I glance at my comrades, and their expressions mirror my own confusion. We stand together, both behind and in front of me, struggling to comprehend what we are seeing. Wyatt seems lost in his own little world, still coughing as he stumbles to realize our surroundings. Johnny can't Glitch him when he's like that. So much Ether is in his veins that it disrupts Johnny's Power. While that's partly a bad thing, it also means that it'll disrupt other Powers as well.
Whispers of uncertainty ripple through our ranks as we exchange bewildered glances. Abraham is the prominent voice of concern, pleading for us to retreat. But just as Tomas raises his hand, likely to call the order as this is not at all what we were expecting, all the lights in the chamber ignite at once, revealing the totality of the marbled insides.
The room is massive, with a double staircase leading to a tunnel slightly higher up than where we stand. But the tunnel, darkened as opposed to the rest of the room, is blocked by a lone figure. An old man stands with a cane by his side and a wine glass in the other.
A trimmed beard with porcelain skin speaks outwardly with a clank of the glass. Eli Weiss, or some Vessel of his, is the only other being in the chamber.
"Welcome, all! This is to be a great ball! Your associates infiltrated the other... entrance. I'm afraid they... well, he isn't doing too good. I know you all come here for a man, one that I understand wanting to save. But, you see... the problem is he isn't all that good of a man. He's done unforgivable things. Things that no man ought to ever do. Isn't that right, Kate? Or should I say Kwakiteh? Heh... you know so little about your adoptive father."
Kwakiteh bristles angrily as her hand slides to her blade, but Johnny stops her with a firm hand, whispering something to her. As he does, Eli continues. Meanwhile, Lennon, Tomas, and Edward gradually near the Virtue, stepping closer and closer toward the stairs.
"No need for violence. At least... not so soon. I'm sure you all know a great change is coming. I recommend you all run as far as you can. Saving this man, even if you succeed, will change nothing and only doom you all to death."
Johnny is the first to speak on our behalf, the gunslinger able to keep his calm under any storm. If he couldn't, his shaky hands would have killed him long ago.
"And why is that, Weiss? Why should we run? Why can—hell, why are you even doing this to Summers? Is there a purpose? Is there a way around it?"
Eli Weiss shakes his head as his Vessels releases a chilling laugh, one that sounds more inhuman than even that of a hyena.
"The Dominions of the world will collide very soon. Ed Summers... he is Vincent's main catalyst for his rise. Only with his blood can Vincent reach the state required. As I regard you quite highly, Caldwell, I shall tell you the truth. Vincent must create a Wasteland for his ascension, and I have created the perfect scenario for him to do so. Unless one of you wishes to replace Ed Summers, of which I highly doubt you can, you are welcome to."
The oldest man in the room takes a deep breath before finishing, his cane rising and clacking against the railing before him. As he speaks, he turns around and leaves, as if dropping the decision to us.
"Otherwise, leave. I know you come for battle—for the salvation of an inhumanely taken man. Some of that is honest. Some of that is false. Pick your own poison. Die here, die to the Wasteland, or escape. If you somehow ruin these plans of mine, we all shall die to the rising tide of Darklight. The greatest power we possess is freedom. I won't force you all to do anything, even if it kills us."