My feet stay glued to the ground as the most destructive demon in the world moves upon Eli Weiss' words. Behemoth smiles with his colossal mouth of fangs opening to display a bloody interior and immediately attacks. The creature is, in one moment, hundreds of feet in the air, and in the next, he is standing face to face with Eli Weiss, his body extending from the ground and far beyond the building the man stands on. His inhuman paws touch the street, but he's vivacious enough that his eyes pour downwardly at Eli's, who is atop a multi-story building. None of those Dominions near him raise a hand to stop him.
"You dare?"
Two words growl out of the awful creature, the winds powerful enough to shake the construct of concrete and metal. As Behemoth shouts, Ed Summers appears with a swirling wind, walking toward the creature with a flapping duster against his winds. Yet, in just a moment, Behemoth chooses the newest member of the defense and snatches his claw outward. In but a moment, Ed Summers is in his grasp while Richard Lang stumbles back, a hole in his stomach from an unknown strike. At the same time, one of the Vessels of Eli Weiss is shattered while the other two observe.
It seems like they are struggling to even be within the company of Behemoth. Machinery moves behind me as shouts try to reach me, but they all fall wayside to the happenings beyond. The dark chains of the Binary Lord prevent me from doing anything but focusing on him.
Behemoth chuckles a dry laugh, his chest bellowing in and out as he holds Ed Summer's struggling body aloft.
"What is this? Are you all killing yourselves?"
Behemoth asks the question that Leviathan answers. The floating woman raises a lithe hand as she lowers herself, gradually approaching the rooftop of the Virtues.
"Careful. Their minds are guarded. We—"
Yet the only female Dominion has her words interrupted as a bright light appears in the distance. All the 9th Sigileds twist their heads backward with confusion. I join them only to discover a blooming cloud of fire as an explosion rocks the world. In the blink of an eye, it transforms into a blazing inferno that paints the horizon in fiery hues.
The explosion rips through the city with an unforgiving force, sending shockwaves that ripple through the very fabric of the world, visible from here as the air winds and curves, distorting my view. The sight is both mesmerizing and unnerving. My brain nearly breaks, trying to reason what is happening, but a whisper from Aniwye solves my conundrum.
"The statue. A Remnant... what vibrancy... like that of a dying star."
My mind flips to the Remnant of Marshall that Johnny said Vincent retrieved. Is that what he did with it? He placed it within the statue? Why? What the fuck is going on? Why is it so fiery and not windy? That's not like Marshall at all!
A gradual shift occurs as the flames reach upward, consuming everything in their path. Once contained within the city's boundaries, the inferno takes on a life of its own. It transforms into a massive storm, its swirling mass centered upon the city as it expands, relentless and unstoppable. Even the Dominions pause momentarily in awe of an act born of a man dead for many days.
The brilliance of the blazing storm is blinding, an incandescent fury that defies the darkness of night. Its radiance sears my vision, leaving an indelible imprint upon my retinas. Even as the light dies down, it remains within my gaze.
Moments after the cataclysmic explosion, I feel it—the pressure of the winds, an unseen force that gathers momentum with each passing second. It sweeps across the land, carrying with it the tumultuous energy of the storm. Ether swirls in dangerous amounts, threatening us all as it shifts over the earth. A breeze passes over me, heralding what's to come as this storm, unlike Marshall's Stormshand, is on the move.
Ed Summers laughs despite his predicament as the figures twist back around, focusing on the figure in Behemoth's hands. As he speaks, the old man's laughter only grows louder and louder, echoing throughout the city as Behemoth grows frustrated. Ytern and Tonuyn land upon opposite spires, choosing to watch instead of interfering.
"That should hold back the Greyskin's King. You all are so confident. You think you can force the answers from our Prime. You forget who he is. The Wastelander listens to no man. No being. If you are Demigods, then he already is a God."
A hand pulls me back, ripping me from the scene as Johnny is screaming at me. His mouth moves, and his neck bulges with veins, but I hardly hear the words.
"Get on the train! We need to go now! NOW!"
Slowly, I move as if still transfixed on the gap in power before me until Aniwye raises a hand. She places her oversized fingers around Johnny's arm, stopping his force upon me. She speaks without room for negotiation.
"He stays. We stay. You all should go. The child must see what the peak looks like. I have to see what it looks like. It will be the most important lesson he'll ever learn."
Her words open my mind entirely, and I refuse her along with Johnny, our thoughts in sync.
"What the hell do you mean? We'll die!"
"Are you insane? You'll both die?!"
Johnny struggles against her grasp, fighting against it, but with his injuries and exhaustion, he holds no hope other than Glitch. Not wanting to waste it, he lets her speak as things grow more insane far away.
I vaguely catch a glimpse of Ed Summer's form crushed, turning into a pile of blood and gore that slinks down through Behemoth's hands like that of a slough. Seemingly endless cries of horror resound all around as Aniwye plants her foot down with a hand on my shoulder, freezing me in my place despite the death of such an influential figure. He might not have his weapon, but he's still a Virtue!
"I will protect him. He has to see this."
Johnny's face twists incredulously, and I try to haul the situation back from the edge of no salvation. I can already see the distrust in his eyes reaching a peak. He doesn't believe her in the slightest, and I don't really either. I think she holds hope that Killian may appear in this once-in-history scuffle.
"I have a skill! I can see through your eyes from far away! Let me do that!"
Aniwye stares downward at me, releasing the two of us as she sighs and pushes us toward the train already starting to move.
"Very well, little one. Do so. I will not resist."
I nod and practically fly into the train as I force whatever Ether I can spare into an Insight that I toss at the demon. I feel zero resistance as she said she would lower her defenses, but I sense my body seize as I hit the ground, unable to control it. I tumble, and rapidly lose all feeling as another pair of eyes open for me.
And the scene that they open to shakes me to my very core. Richard Lang spreads out his arms, a thousand circles of intricate Ether conjuring around him. Behemoth punches outward to kill him, Eli, and the other Vessel with the might of a mountain and speed beyond Kai Vinson. I only even discern the movement because I see through Aniwye's augmented demonic eyes.
The Blinded Man thrusts out his arms as each circle explodes with force, each like a miniature trap waiting to be triggered, each bearing the might of the entirety of the Steam Train. The sky warbles and trembles as Behemoth is stopped, his fist pausing against the nigh-endless weaves of Ether. The colossal demon grunts, stepping back just a tad as he winds around another hand. The defense is not without cost, however. The human who stops him bleeds profusely from his nose, the ground beneath him cracked and crumbling.
As Bememoth reaches back, however, Anwiye pulls herself up with her mind, gaining a better vantage point as the train departs, heading eastward. I immediately realize that she might not have given up on her goal of benefiting from this fight as her eyes flicker to the puddle of blood that is Ed Summers. She must want his artifact or something.
Richard Lang, however, is not in a position to withstand another strike. Blood trails down his nose and now even his ears like a faucet, similar to Abraham, after the alabaster man pushes himself too hard, and the older man is nearly kneeling from the trauma of blocking Behemoth. From atop a different building, Aniwye, along with a few other Virtues from the demons, Nahullo, and Pygmy, watch, waiting to pounce if given the chance.
Yet, Richard Lang is forced to block again as Eli and his remaining Vessel simply watch, hands behind their backs. What are they doing!? Waiting for Vincent!? Fight back!
My cries are unheard by them all except for Aniwye as Richard Lang is pushed against the stone rooftop, sliding along a fractured stone rooftop that only worsens as he struggles to bear the weight of a Dominion's fist. The strength within that punch could shatter a mountain, yet the Blinded Man manages to spread out the power and return his own against the fist.
"They are fighting back, little one. The Tree is simply preoccupied in a battle of minds."
A short glimpse of a pinkish tsunami overflowing a tiny, insignificant stubble from her gifting me her sense of mind is all I need to see before I understand what she means. Eli Weiss is being overloaded with power by Leviathan right now, unable to do even a single thing.
Again, Richard Lang endures a brutal impact as he has to force the building he is standing upon to stay rigid, those many circles of Ether constricting around the stone and adding depth. The simple force of each strike has killed nearly every Unsigiled within the city already as more and more buildings crash from the reverberations. Only those who have already left have a chance of survival.
As he does so, I notice a stream of blood flowing from Ed Summer's body that saunters up the building wall into a puddle of blood beside Eli Weiss. Once the gruesome aftermath of violence, the gore and incarnadine defy all expectations and begin reassembling themselves.
The transformation is as bewildering as it is alarming. The viscous, crimson pool of blood churns and twists with an unnatural vitality as if the essence of life itself were being summoned forth from the Cardinal. From within this grotesque maelstrom, a figure emerges, gradually taking shape.
But it's not the old man I expect. Ed Summers does not emerge from the crimson. Instead, it's the form of an even more deadly old man. In fact, it's the most aged man alive. Yet, he seems much younger than the stories I've heard.
His presence is undeniable, starkly contrasting with the lifeless puddle that once occupied the same space, and a shout of awe from Aniwye leaves me trembling.
"He's younger?!"
As this eerie spectacle unfolds, I can't help but notice the peculiar tints of dust and sand that seem to intermingle with the flowing blood as the entirety of Vincent Harvey's body reveals itself. These minute details add to the surreal nature of the scene, hinting at the unique strength of the man brought from the fold of blood.
Behemoth doesn't wait a single moment and roars with strength as Ytern joins him, appearing behind Vincent with an outstretched hand. Both Dominions strike at him, the colossal one swinging a punch and the alabaster one squeezing the heart in his hands.
Against their threats, as the sky shakes and an abyssal orb shoots at Vincent Harvey from the depths of the heart, the eldest human simply raises his right hand to the sky as he laughs. Sand forms from the stone around them, as if contorting matter into Ether; the dust is in a state that confuses me. It's both Ether and it's not. It's a solid object, but it still responds like Ether.
Vincent uses this dust to coat his hand, grab the abyssal orb with ease as the sound of a thousand dying screams resounds, pivot with a slight step, and hurl it at Behemoth. The demon grunts as he shifts to the side, going right through a bank instead of wasting time going around. The abyssal orb enters the horizon from Vincent's throw as the old man glances down, speaking to the remaining splotches of blood.
"Thank you, child. I shall use this gift well even if you were unwanting to give it."
As the old man's Ether and words continue to unfurl, our world transforms into a storm of swirling Ether that is beyond anything I've ever witnessed. More Ether is coming from the depths of the Prime's bones that I've used, seen, or felt in my entire life combined. Once a bustling entity of stone and steel, the city succumbs to his Ether. I don't even know if what he is doing is a skill, a Dzil, a Power, or what, but it shatters every limit I've ever known.
Every pillar, every building, and even the most mundane of damaged stone on the street is swept up in a torrent of Ether, transmuting them into refined grains of sand. This sand, like that of what defended Vincent against Ytern and Behemoth, possesses that same oddity. I can't tell if it's Ether or an object. It has the properties of both.
The transformation is swift and relentless as if the very earth itself were being unraveled by an actual God. Parts of me realize why he and the other Dominions are called Demigods as the Alliance retaliates.
Pillars crumble into heaps of dust, and grand edifices dissolve into shapeless dunes as waves of psychic Ether shunt them to the side, attempting to force them away. At the same time, Leviathan strikes at Vincent's mind, but the man stands strong.
Behemoth roars, the demon doubling in size as an equally large creature of sand meets him, an executioner's blade of sharpened dust in its monstrous hands. The Swarming Wastelander, the Executioner Of Dust.
The title proves itself as on one end, he repels both Binary Lords with one outstretched hand, and with another, he forces Ytern to retreat. A wave of sand has the Nahullo Warmaster leaping into the air, a pane of darkness from the Pale Cavity holding his weight as crackling ice shrouds his form. Tonuyn flexes his arms against the endless sand as his skin ignites with a flame, a thousand impossible-to-discern scriptures inscribed into his flesh.
Aniwye leaps back, retreating with a thrust of her mind. The scene grows tinier in her vision, but even harder to ignore.
Behemoth's claws that crack the air are swallowed by the swirling spires of sand that now fill the air. An uncountable number of grains beat against the Alliance, reducing their efforts to simple strain on the eldest man. His face is one of total concentration as he battles in every direction at once. Beside Vincent is Richard Lang, long fallen to his knees, and only Eli's Vessel. The true Underground Tree is gone. Even Aniwye missed where he went.
But the strangeness doesn't end there. Aniwye and I watch in disbelief, thousands of people, the dead corpses that rest under the swirling sands as, at this point, only Angels remain, vanish into redness. Their forms dissolve, and their essence mingles with the swirling spires of sand as though they willingly offer themselves. The yellowish sand is dyed red with blood as vitality surges within the Ether. For a moment, my heart sinks at the thought that these are all innocents until I realize they all wear the lifeless masks of a criminal. Myriad. That is where he fits in. A sacrifice indeed...
Aniwye doesn't even have words as she struggles to survive the aftereffects of Vincent and the Alliance's strikes. Even Leviathan's mental waves alone nearly crush Aniwye's defenses and reach me from the ripples.
Yet, at the epicenter of this madness, the old man seems to grow younger with each passing moment. It's a paradoxical sight as the years are reversed, and the weight of time is lifted from his shoulders. His rejuvenation is both miraculous and unsettling, and Aniwye finally comprehends the meaning, delivering it to me.
"Eli found a way to turn back the clock for Vincent. He sacrificed Myriad and Ed Summers to regain years of his life. Angels with Abbots and Occultists. I wonder..."
My heart catches as the impossibility of the notion momentarily breaks Insight, returning me to the inside of the train. My brain makes an equally impossible connection. Frantic, I push myself up from the seat I'm placed in and search the train for a man.
I don't see him.
I thrust myself forward, ignoring the cries of my friends as I open the next door, discovering Edward sleeping in exhaustion while Deux and Earl tend to his wounds. I breathe a sigh of relief, seeing that he's okay. My heart calms as Earl pivots to me, confused.
"What's wrong? I thought you were watching the fight? What's happening? All we can hear is constant bangs and something like the chittering of insects."
Earl turns his back to Deux and Edward as I open my mouth to explain a bit, but my body moves on its own. Sprinting forward, I push past Earl, reaching forward to stop Deux as she slides a hand into Edward's heart. The lifeless face of the puppet faces me as it squeezes, my speed just barely not prompt enough. A splatter of blood fills the man's cavity, and I tackle Deux to the ground.
"Save him! Eli is trying to kill him!"
Earl pauses for a second, lost, confused, and obviously fuming at himself, but he moves, only he's too slow—Edward's whole form shifts into pooling blood, the opposite of what happened to Vincent Harvey.
I cry outward and slam my fist into Deux's face. A Strugglers Gasp quickly delivers an Explosion that removes its head as tears leak onto its porcelain. I stand, shifting as I reach out, grabbing the pooling blood with my hands as it flows to the windows, leaving like a cloud of cigarette smoke.
Earl simply stands unmoving, the shock too much for him.
I continue to take whatever I can, staining my hands with red.
"No! NO! NO! NO! NO! COME BACK!"
I stop, realizing that it's fruitless as I consider my options. What can I do? Is there anything I can do? Maybe if I stop the blood long enough, then Edward can reform? He is an Angel of the Occultist, after all. No. I can't gather all that blood. No one can. Except...
Aniwye.
Earl recovers just as I run to the window, opening it fully and staring outward. I take the Serum that he gave me, stabbing it into my leg as I reach outward with my eyes. So much Ether fills the depths of my bones that then encompass my eyes that I can hardly feel the ends of my fingers.
Yet, I push, searching for her mind with Insight miles and miles away.
She has to do something. And I have to tell her to do it.