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Wyatt Graves
Nearly an hour after exiting the bounds of Onyx Gate, I spot a pillar of flame in the distance. We have been moving at a steady pace to recover, but the instant I notice the signs of Bonfire, I share a glance with Virgil and dart away.
My friend follows me, shooting ahead at a pace faster than my own. Shadows themselves struggle to keep up with him. All the while, Natos is on our tails, shifting into light itself before reconstituting himself to gain his whereabouts with a wandering pair of pupils.
It seems he can't see when he turns to light. I suppose that makes sense. Shaking my head at my own thoughts, I crest a hill with a leap and discover several people on the other side. Some alive. Some... not.
Three bodies are ones I recognize, those of former Colonels, that I can tell recently advanced to Angelhood, likely during this very battle. And yet... now they are dead.
Another new Angel fights ahead, along with Richard, Bonfire, Abraham, Earl, and Elizabeth. I feel a significant connection to the short-haired woman with them, originating from the wrapping bone links on my right arm.
Instinctively, I know something. She advanced because I reduced people's limits. Simply existing as I am now makes... the impossible possible. Limitless is no longer just a Concept to be thought of. It is... a graspable thing. Not all Concepts being held by Gods are bad things. We... we can help. This is proof. The Devil did it. And... So can I. The thought makes my heart race, the possibilities... well, limitless.
Ghastly spirits spew from Blake's palms as she shrieks like a Banshee, throwing back her assailant for Rich to decapitate a cord from his guitar. I only watch for a moment, a split second, while Bonfire and Abraham tag-team another God a ways away, and Earl and Elizabeth fight several Angels, too.
Tomas is on this battlefield, as well, and he takes his own burden, facing off against a Dominion. The son of Marshall Travis is a Virtue now, one step further than his father made it, but he's not enough.
Pointing left, I command Natos, not waiting for a single second. Then, I turn to my shadow.
"Natos. Help Tomas. If he gets angry, tell him I sent you. Virgil. Kill the God while it's distracted. I'll help Elizabeth and Earl."
The demon listens without arguing, likely realizing its the best position for him to go, too. Bonfire would hate him helping him and he wouldn't know what to do with Elizabeth and Earl, as both of their methods of fighting are a little... special.
The three of us split up as Virgil also agrees with my decision. Each of us moves in a different way toward our destination. Natos shifts into a beam of light, bouncing across the surface of the ground like some kind of snake. Virgil utterly evaporates into shadow like a drop of water in a pond before reappearing with a dagger already in the rippling God that... from what I tell must lord over sound or noise of some kind.
As for me... I simply take a long step forward, pressing down with all my strength into the ground as Ether fills me from both my partners.
Bones grow out from my heart while One Heart Beats For Three. The Sirza is a dozen times easier to use now that I'm a God, and I even feel as though I have some modicum of control over its actual growth. Still, I let it advance on its own as I crash into the horde of Motherbound coming from the north.
Before my feet hit the ground, however, I ask for one thing of Lily.
"Can you check on Rich and Blake? They're a bit out of their depths here."
The little girl materializes beside me, Colt in hand, before skipping away like a panther. I can't help but smile as she departs, but I have little time to consider her naivety. Instead, my Ether spreads outward as I imbue Limitlessness into a new form.
Spreading my arms out, I watch Earl duck a wave of attacks from several Motherbound, the leftovers clanking against his armor. Elizabeth shouts with her Power before blowing her target's head off with a rifle made by the genius.
"You will stand still now!"
The Power only halts for a split second, a tiny fraction of a moment, but it's enough with her skill as its head departs its body. Then, it explodes in the air, Accretion Ether detonating the bullet. Alongside her, I find a streak of lightning and a cloud of noxious fumes kill cohorts of Motherbound, too. Skyswain and Primrose are still alive, and the former has grown, too. That same connection exists within the Bado as well.
In the tiny seconds I stretch out my limbs, my Ether and soul finally reach a pinnacle. Before, Bone Orchard had to come from the ground. Now, that's not so much of a problem.
Hundreds of Motherbound rush toward me. Somehow, they must not know who I am. What I am. That's unfortunate for them.
Legions of bone spears erupt from my body, and I observe in a cruel, detached fashion as every figure that comes within a thousand feet of me is filled with countless holes. But the bones don't stop there. They continue onward, rushing toward more and more beings, proliferating from both the dead on the earth and the living material from me.
I lose count of the dead Motherbound after the first thousand. The bodies and blood pile up so quickly I am speechless as the souls funnel into mine with Lily's help. In just a minute, a slim minute, all are dead besides the Dominion and God.
The bone recede back into my heart as I stand still, in awe of what I've done. Earl and Elizabeth are safe, but they are both looking at me with odd faces. Earl's is a bit harder to discern through his helmet, but I can still feel it.
Blodwyn speaks in my head, just as awed as I am.
"Woah. Your Concept is crazy."
I nod, not knowing what else to say. I look to my left, finding Natos and Tomas beheading the Demigod together. No longer a problem, I see.
Then, I glance right, only to witness Virgil transposition him, Bonfire, and Abraham consecutively, which ends with a series of shadowy daggers within the God's spine while it focused on Bonfire's flame. It stumbles forward, twisting around with a collapsing wave of sound, but Virgil's gone, with a tall old man in his place. A see-through fist meets the God's chin, sending it spiraling backward.
A smile grows on my face as the former assassin catches the God in mid-air despite its velocity, wrapping his arms around its neck and severing its head. They both crash to the ground, yet Virgil's shadows take him, restraining the figure to the dirt, both its skull and body. My friend rubs a bleeding shoulder while standing just beside the God, staring down at it as if waiting for me.
Damn.
I know it was already hurt by Abraham and Bonfire, but... things sure have changed.
**************************************
Elizabeth 'Prophet's Voice' Stroudwater
My feet shuffle backward hesitatingly as I stare at the tall figure before me, nearly eight feet in stature and far above my head. Its elongated bones recede back into the spiraling armor that emerges from its chest. Seconds ago, those very bones stretched out to kill thousands of Motherbound, scraping right past my face.
I could smell the bone in my nostrils, burnt by its sheer velocity. Still, the tangy, acrid scent is in my senses. I continue to gawk at the being as it shuffles slightly from side to side, as if testing out its strength.
Those butchering bones now form a grotesque shell, encapsulating who I know must be Wyatt. I'm in awe, stunned by its overwhelming strength, but I struggle to reconcile this monstrous form with my friend. With... Wyatt.
This figure doesn't share his smile or his face. It doesn't even share his height or his miscolored arms. It is just... blood-chilling. Bony armor covers every inch of the thing's body, originating from its heart, while a spiraling chain of darker bone stretches out from its shoulder blade and wraps around its right arm. That chain... it sends agony down my brain and into my spine, making my vision wobble.
Can't look at that... Stumbling, I get my feet under me as I realize Earl is having a similar difficulty in facing our friend.
I want to say something, to speak, but I cannot find my voice. Every word that starts in my throat doesn't make it to my teeth, halted by the coldness below. My feet are soaked in a river of blood, the metallic scent filling my nostrils and making it hard to breathe. I look up at the gaunt creature, the bone managing to thin his already somewhat compact body, hoping to see a flicker of recognition, something that connects it to my friend. But there is nothing.
"Is it really you?"
I whisper, my voice barely audible over the silence that follows the massacre. It doesn't hear me.
The figure turns its head slightly, facing another battle, then another one as both end. Nevertheless, I can't take my eyes off him. For a moment, I think I see a hint of my friend in its movements. I'm paralyzed, unable to confirm if he is still the same after becoming a God, after killing... so many.
But there is someone who isn't. The man who's always had his back from their very first meeting.
A hand clad in dark cloth grasps Wyatt's shoulder out of nowhere, reaching up on his toes to grab his attention. Virgil Boone pulls Wyatt back to our world. For all the evils the terrifying figure may have done, to Virgil, he might as well be a saint.
"Hey. You're scaring them. Hide your Divinhood, will you? They can't face it. Remember how you felt staring at Death? Imagine how they feel staring at the Limitless Shackle?"
Wyatt Graves shakes his head as if confused, but then he pushes his fist into the spiraling bone at his chest. Quickly and fortuneatley, the Ether dissipates, but that is not all. The 'Limitless Shackle' slides into his body, entering his flesh quietly. It must be the manifestation of his Concept on his body when he uses it to its fullest. I... I don't want to see what happens when all three work in unison.
Finally, I breathe a sigh of relief, nearly falling to the ground as my legs lose much of their strength. Abraham, however, helps me stand as the pale man comes from the side. I move to thank him, but he explains himself first, nodding toward Emmet Knox.
"His idea. We figured you guys would need some help walking after... seeing that. I got used to it down there. Bonfire, too. Being around the Devil was not easy. Don't feel bad."
I give him a slight smile, getting my stomach under control. I thought I'd seen enough. Sonrus was... horrifying enough to see from afar while Bonfire and Abraham handled him. Being up close and personal with a God... even if I know him closely... gives me a new level of fear I didn't know I had. I'd thought I had overcome all my fears. It seems there are a few more out there to deal with.
Still... I take a deep breath to slow down and control my heart rate. Johnny lives on within me, and so do his teaching and his techniques. He was always so calm. He always knew what to do and how to proceed. And if he didn't... he'd take responsibility and find the way forward.
The long breath is held for several moments as I let it run through me, exactly as the gunslinger would do it. It's the technique he uses to smoke his cigar with, too. It calmed him, and because it calmed him, it works on me too. That air stills within my chest, swirling around and loosening my taut muscles.
Gradually, everyone still alive seems to come together. Not that many of us are left out here on the north side. I can only hope many of the missing are within the Devil's sanctuary. Though, I know that's a false hope.
Still, faces gather in a circle, distant enough not to share any space, but still, we come together. I take my time to gather each face and find their names in my mind.
Natos. Primrose. Skyswain. Tomas. Blake. Abraham. Bonfire. Richard. Wyatt. Earl. And me. Even the Blooming Spider Lily is with us, taking a plop on the ground with a smile.
There are some less-expected faces, too.
At first, those are just the newer Angels, powerful soldiers that worked their way from the ground up. With the help of falling Gods, it's become far easier for others to ascend, but that doesn't mean it was easy.
I only remember the past them, as I don't know their newfound Powers.
Daisy 'Dusty' O'Claire has crimson hair and a scar across her nose that stretches all the way to her right ear. The eye that the old wound crosses is grayed out and useless, but I know she is plenty capable. I remember her from Bent. She was only a 4th Sigil back then. Strong, but not nearly at this level. She's kind of like Virgil, light on her feet, and she takes advantage of her skills that blind and debilitate.
Hara 'Skynail' is an interesting young man. He's older than me, but only by a few years—the early twenties at the most. Like Tomas, he is an orphan with no last name. The only difference is that, like many of the kids Marshall picked up from wartorn regions, he didn't take him as his son. I know he sees Tomas as a rival, and even now, he looks at him with a challenging gaze.
Burke 'Blackjack' Briar is a stocky man with hair that trails to the bottom of his back. Tattooed onto his face is a playing card of an ace of hearts. I don't know what it stands for, but he's the only one of the surviving Angels that did not serve with Marshall. At the same time, though... he gives me the feeling he's the strongest of the three despite lacking the General's training. His gaze gives me pause, but it does not seem violent in nature.
The three hold my attention for very little time, however. Approaching footsteps call for all of our attention.
A Pygmy stumbles toward us, a pendant held in her hand while a tall Nahullo streaks behind her. Ytern's chest, the opposite side of his heart, is a wide hole, showing what nearly killed him. Timemi, however, has tears streaming down her face despite the Primare in her palms. Bonfire puts his hands on the ground to stand up, but Wyatt holds him with a whisper.
Good job, Wyatt. Now is not the time.
Granulen is nowhere to be seen. Neither is Lennon or Killian Graves. It seems we are down some of our strongest. That... is not good. Especially Lennon. He... he is probably our strongest. I know Wyatt is a God now, but... that fucking swordsman... He better not be dead. If he is, I'll find his fucking soul and drag it back into his damned body.
Silence holds for several moments as all are quiet. Instead, we all simply take in the past day. I don't know what time it is, but it must be close to the morning after the night. With the eclipse and the bizarre sky due to all the Godly deaths, I don't know how to tell for sure.
After almost a full minute, someone finally speaks. It is Ytern, the old and wizened Nahullo Warmaster, finding his time.
"It would appear Johnny is not coming. I will miss him. Not so much for that swordsman. But... we have some discussions to finish."
The man of the north, a severely injured Demigod, rolls an orb of poison into the center of all of us, frozen utterly in a block of ice. I can tell that without the ice covering it, it would hurt to even look at it. Ytern has another Divinity on him, a tiara hung at his belt, also sealed in ice.
Smart. I've heard that Divinities can kill even Demigods if they use them directly. Of course, someone such as him would know how to bypass the dangers.
I nod to the Nahullo, directing my focus to the others. Those two are all the Divinities we have.
"Any other Divinities anyone wants to share? They all need a home somewhere, or we risk... that kind of thing happening."
My index finger points up at the sky where a sun begins rising, hints of an eclipse showing. It seems that sunrises are easy to discern after all.
Bonfire bobs his head quickly while Virgil does the same.
The former lobs an eye of swirling air and... sound? It lands steadily in the center as the nerves behind my pupils scream in pain. A shout comes from Ytern and Wyatt before the latter covers the eye with his hand, already standing in the center.
"Bonfire! You idiot! Not everyone can look at these things in their raw forms! Haah... I'll... I'll see what I can do with this one. It'll work best for you, Elizabeth. Or maybe Rich. I don't know. Hopefully, I can seal it enough that some power will still be usable without hurting either of you. Virgil, could you give Void's Fang to Abraham. I think his Idol could use it best without it hurting anyone."
My friend, without all the terrifying bone and blood, only the tattered clothing that likely reveals a bit too much of his body, strides over to me and sits with crossed legs. The eye in his hand is covered in spiraling chains as he uses his... Divinhood? Concept? I think it's all the same, to be honest.
Regardless, he weakens the Soundless Pupil before handing it to me. A little ways away, I can't help but notice Virgil bestows a long, purplish fang of some kind of rock to Abraham. The half-Nahullo holds it with his mind, not his flesh, before Ytern helps him partially seal it into a necklace.
My attention, however, is primarily focused on Wyatt as I take the eye wrapped in tiny bony chains that have shrunk it from the size of a typical eyeball to that of a tiny gem.
"It shouldn't hurt to use. I set three series of restrictions on it. The first has all three of our Divinhoods on it, Origin, Adaptation, and Limitless. If you need more strength... you can remove them one at a time, but I don't recommend it unless it's life or death."
I pull him into a hug, wrapping my arms around his neck as he seems surprised by my gesture. Tears well up in my eyes, and I take the pupil into my palms. It's a tiny eyeball, just the size to put in a ring with the chains shrinking it. I'll have to get Earl to make me one to hold it in.
"Thank you."
Wyatt pulls from me, genuine worry in his gaze. I almost laugh at his question.
"Are you crying? Did I do something?"
I shake my head again and again, reassuring him before turning back to the gathering. As I do so, a pair of ragged footsteps, carried by the sound of scraping steel shock me to my very core.
"No. No. I'm just so glad you're still you..."
I want to say more, but Lennon's appearance prevents any and all words. The swordsman...
Looks like hell. That is the only apt description for the lack of blood that must be circulating in his system. Of all the bones in a human's body, he must be missing at least a third of them. And still...
Still... he tosses a sword of rippling water, the surface of the blade wholly constructed of roiling liquid and the handle graspable fluid. I raise my hands to cover my eyes, but no pain comes. The Bladed Monster laughs before collapsing to the floor on his ass.
"Found that on my way here. Someone left it out there. And don't worry. I made it docile."