They say Mother Nature herself is the bringer of life — with all of her rarest creations in this world, one being these rare, unfathomable power-harnessing objects, forged under her perfect influence. Each is made with the sole purpose of being wielded by those possessing the strongest mind, an unbreakable will, a worthy soul, and an unrigid spirit. And by that, I mean beings such as the Ordinals. Upon their arrival to the lands, they already had such objects in their possessions and won the war. It's either they found those so-called Immortal Armaments or those weapons found them. But now that many of them are no longer living, the objects are stored here, in a vault where they're safe from the hands of ordinary beings. But learning about them is not the reason why I'm here. Why am I here?
I pause in my tracks, a few steps away from being under the ceiling's bright light as my mind seems to trap me under a million shuffling questions. My eyes remain upon the flat and smooth-surfaced stone, its sides carved to look natural with its glorious white color whilst its entirety constantly scatters the light it's obtaining from the high ceilings.
"I want to apologize for the untimely events that happened to you a few days ago, especially losing a close companion," Ordinal Three begins again. "That kind of burden is something to endure for the rest of our lives. I've already sent my regards to the soldiers' families along with Finnobair's capture of you."
That suddenly shifts my emotions a little as I recall the horrors, but I suppress it soon before it takes over again. I can't be acting like that right now — not in the Ordinal's presence. I acknowledge the sympathy with a nod.
"The investigations' results provided enough evidence to say that it was you who have managed to kill a new unclassed Hellion," He continues. "But I want to ask, how? How did one human soldier manage to kill a massive Hellion with a single-handed weapon?"
I bring my thoughts up to remember the specific seconds of that time. "I—… It happened so fast… Just came out of the blue until I noticed this purple thing crawling out of my arm."
"What were you feeling then?" He asks.
"Anger," I say after a short silence with those unwanted flashes forcefully appearing in my head. "So much anger."
"Apologies, Soldier," He says, chuckling. "I meant to ask, what did it feel like?"
I think again, then answer, "Lighter than usual… and faster."
The Ordinal nods lightly then turn on his heels.
"Years after the war… subdued." He walks his way to the opposite side of the giant slab. "Your known Ordinal Four have discovered something." He says.
Ordinal Four… Before Finnobair, she was the most powerful mage in the world. Their only similarity is that they both had no Immortal Armaments due to their innate Cysaintine blood. But when it comes to differences? One needed no incantation to cast spells. And it was her. Centuries of living surely made her an adept sorceress after the war, and even perhaps, dangerous. That's what I learned about her back in my school days. What I didn't learn, or rather, what the whole world knows nothing of, is about her mysterious death. It was only recent—more than two decades ago. Not even the Ordinals know. At least, Cysainte has a statue of her.
"A being who possesses a power that only exists beyond the material world we know. Or, rather, someone." As he speaks, the tiny winged creatures once again have the ominous book lying open on the table, flipping it open upon the same page of the engraved sketch. "This entity bridges us, and them." He points his finger behind him, referring to the Otherrealm. "In Four's findings, all of those life-consuming creatures are linked to this entity's influence, drawing them closer and closer every minute of every day to our world." The surface of the smooth slab begins swirling with glimmering sands as his other hand points to it, then forms a figure resembling the sketch's outline but in a detailed three-dimensional figure. "If she hadn't kept this from us, then it wouldn't have cost her life." So that's the crime she committed — keeping a world-threatening prophecy from the Ordinals.
I merely begin to take small steps, finally having myself slowly under the light from above, to give myself a better view whilst taking in the words. A being bridging us and them… Linked to this entity's influence… I'm kicked hard in the thoughts, reminding me of the incident that happened a few days ago and his words. That Hellion… Could it have been my fault?
"This being harnesses spontaneous, undiscovered power from the Otherrealm," The Ordinal continues. "Not even any of these weapons you see around you are capable of surpassing it. Not even all of us Ordinals combined." He says, and my brows furrowed further, my eyes fixed in a dubious gaze. "For ages, we looked for it, tracked it, and pursued it in every single way we could so it won't harm anyone with the possible dangers it could've made, yet we never succeeded. And now…" He pauses. "Here you are, and it's in your possession."
I take an inch of a step back, still registering the words that I'm hearing.
"I'm sorry, Legionnaire, but," I say out of my lingering bafflement. "I'm nothing but a son of a widowed lady who works on a farm village. I'm born a human. Raised a human. Studied and trained in the academy at the Barrier for twelve years. I don't see any reason that—…" I trail off with the abrupt emergence of another doubting thought.
He raises his chin, expression written with utter recognition of my thoughts. "Fascinating…" He mutters, sauntering again back to the opposite side of the slab. "This entity that we're talking about has the ability to fuse with any living being's soul. If you had no malicious encounters before, then what do you think could be the other reason for you to have this power?"
I look at him cluelessly, with no other words to utter but the thought of what my mother taught me about my father. "My mother told me that my father was a Front Soldier, too. Died upon killing a Hellion." And that's all I knew.
"And that only concludes what, soldier?" That question holds so much as if he already knows the answer. But only wants to hear it come from me.
A short pause before I answer. "My father… He's the entity. And I inherited it."
He nods. "Fourth told us that this entity is the reason for this persisting realm collision — that's what she called it," He says, now standing adjacent to me. "But also the key to this war's end." He then props his arms with his palms pressed on the slab's curved edges. "You are the key to this war's end."
At that moment, I had already taken everything in, all the puzzles of his words completed into one clear picture. Yet I'm shaking my head constantly, still refusing to believe any of it, my hands on their own gripping tightly on emptiness. I thought I'd be asked questions for them to determine what I did, yet instead, I'm being given answers to the questions I did not know I'd be having and expect them to turn out to be so unbelievably bizarre. How foolish of me to not even realize it. A so-called bridge of two worlds that is linked to every Hellion. Am I even dreaming?
"The origin of that power you now possess still remains a mystery to this day. We got no opportunity to do so when he kept himself hidden for so long." He says. "But who knew that a wanted and dangerous man with a dangerous power would have a child and have it passed down?"
I'm still baffled as if my nerves remain unsatisfied with what I just heard, or is it just that it's all still sinking in?
"The ordinals need your help, soldier," I hear him speak after another duration of silence.
My help? Do the Ordinals need my help…?
"We shall help you learn about your capabilities given by the entity that lives in you, therefore, it benefits us too," He continues. "You can finally bring peace to this world. No more Barriers. No more soldiers having to risk their lives. No more Hellions to threaten our world. Again, all of them are linked to you."
The last sentence has me taken aback. Linked to me. Then it quickly sums up in my mind. It was my fault then? I called that Hellion that cost my godfather's life and his friends. I feel my lungs skip capturing air with the horrors slowly returning again and it's beginning to send me into a breakdown.
"No," I mumble after the feeling that I somehow lost the ability to breathe, lips quivering. "I— I don't want this." My voice shakes anxiously as the guilt kicks in again, my legs stumbling back on their own. It was indeed my fault. After two months of silence, I decided to bother them and have innocent soldiers killed. "I don't want any of this." I feel tears soaking my cheeks, my nerves trembling beneath my skin. But I remained poised in my stance, suppressing my emotions only within myself. "It's my fault."
"Soldier," The Ordinal calls, solidly, clearly aware of what my words are screaming about. "Blaming yourself will lead to nothing."
"Take it from me," I say, candidly. "Please! I don't want it!" The distress in my voice is prominent, but I don't even know what I'm saying. All my instincts know is that I'm having urges wanting to remove whatever is in me.
It takes seconds before he nods, brows furrowed with utter sympathy. "Very well." He says, then flicking his fingers in the air. And just as he does, my ears capture a whirring sound. Then, the next thing, I feel a strike of stinging pain right below the back of my neck. My vision begins to blur and takes away my mind's focus on the hysteria. I reach my hand up to the area where the pain persists, only for me to grip upon a wooden stick plunged all the way deep into my flesh. My body flinches as I pull it off, only to see its pointy arrow tip soaked in my own red blood combined with a tint of green liquid. The smell makes my nose scrunch with the unpleasant toxic smell. It's poison.
I gaze back at the Ordinal, my vision still woozy but still makes out his facade now displayed with an unreadable emotion. My legs begin to weaken, causing me to lose balance and I'm falling on my back. But before my body makes full contact with the solid floor, the sounds of multiple whirring metals rumble from the chamber's corners. A yelp escapes my lips as I feel each of my limbs and body erupt with distress as I'm now being crushed by solid objects, then yanking me afloat in the air. My head remains exposed for me to see the hovered swords pointed towards my head, two of those sharp tips slowly approaching, about to puncture themselves into my eyes. A bluish glow fades in from beneath me before I parse the moving letters surrounding me. No, they're not just letters. They're runes — which entail nothing else but Ordinal Twenty-One's presence as well. He didn't depart, after all.
The crushing feeling sends me horrors, suffocating and no longer allowing my voice to make any sounds. My hearing decimates off of the environment, only the loud aggressive rhythm of my pounding in my ears. My eyesight persists to be less and less clear with my surroundings along with the building pressure within my skull as if I'm about to burst. My body is starting to surrender, barely holding on with the remaining air saved in my lungs, until the bluish glow surrounding me changes so quickly — no, it's rather the sickly purplish light dominating it.
The next thing I know is that I feel the painful tortures no more, my muscles relieved, my heart no longer daring to jump out of my chest. My eyes are still shut, but now just in pure comfort, and no other particular feelings combined. Just letting myself be embraced. It doesn't last any longer until my knees feel the solid floor. Gazing down at my hands, I trace tendrils of remnant purple essence crawling back within my skin. This feeling…
Looking back ahead of me, the Third Ordinal is standing a few feet away. Just from here, I see the prominent tint of disbelief upon his timeless guise. My focus remains on his figure, then suddenly, I once again notice purple colors in the form of vertical lines crawling from the corners of the obscured chamber like a radar, smothering the definite shapes of every object present with us, and the other soldiers that I realize have been stalking in the shadows since I arrived here. My eyes are scanning the environment. It doesn't even miss the one a yard from behind, so I turn, confirming the Twenty-First Legionnaire's presence here. And he's about to cast his next rune.
Another set of whirring metal and whispering arrows make their way to my auditory, and my body instinctively moves on its own, removing myself from the spot where they are to hit. My leaps are higher than ever before, and my reaction time rivaled that of the speed of sound. Just like back in the desert.
The moment I have my feet once again in contact with the ground, I face the chamber's doors from afar. But in order to get there, I have to get through a lady, clad in soil-colored metal fabric fittingly hugging her curvy frame, both ends of thick brass chains dangling low from each grasp. Besides being one of the Immortal Armaments, those objects remind me of her being a Hexborn Steelshaper woman and an Ordinal. Tenth.
Now, I stand between the two of them, plus the other soldiers around the chamber who have halted firing. They sure trust the godlike soldiers. The second that I'm fully aware of the chain user's features, she begins twirling along with her chains before lashing one of them forward like a dagger, smoothly slashing through the air like a leaf falling from a healthy tree, while the Rune Writer has cast his spell, the letter retaining shape and coming in the speed of sound. And I know, at the moment, that I won't be fast enough to evade either, yet somehow, my reflexes contradict that and my legs spring forward whereas my grasp meets the whirring object.
My momentum persists active, strong enough to sway below the bridge while still managing to not get hit by those whirring arrows and metals. I add my weight for extra momentum to launch myself back up on the sturdy, concrete path's surface. My chances of escape are higher now that I'm merely meters away from the chamber's huge doors until a vertical streak of light strikes below my feet and detonates, sending me to the atmosphere. Midair, I feel the sudden painful strike locking around below my chest and yanking me back to the ground. Whining as my gaze drops, I see the same Immortal Armament wielded by the Steelshaper Ordinal. I quickly prop back to my knees to attempt to extricate myself from the restraining fetters, yet before I even begin, I'm down again to my side as my body shivers intensely with the thousands of needles poking at every square inch of my skin.
Down to the bones, I feel it. My muscles are in complete horror, my heart rapidly bamming inside my chest, and my senses disrupted besides my eyes that can see the tendrils of bluish-white electricity surging all over me, and the ambling figure of the Tenth Ordinal, her hand clutched around the chain with bolts of electricity as she's poised with her legs trying to keep me down. I make out her other arm already swaying the end of the armament, no bolts yet crawling around its conjoined brass steels.
More metals smash against my body, and more arrows, but of ominous appearance impale the ground surrounding me, glimmering in plain white light. Then tiny runes appear above their fletching, causing strings to slither from one to the other around me and add more securing restraints. A sense another lady, winged, descends right far behind me. And I manage to give a look at her recurved bow in hand, precisely, another Immortal Armament. Another Ordinal. The Fifth Legionnaire. That makes it three of them taking on one human. Or am I even one, at this point?
I shut my eyes as my body starts to succumb to the torture, though it lasts mere seconds when I somehow begin to get back up — one hand grasped around the brass artifact. My body trembles less, and my senses are completely stable. The pieces of metal detach themselves mere inches from my body like a cascade of armor as the surging bolts of electricity and the glimmering arrows have lost their authentic colors into the devilish purple energy, while the runes only fade to dust. Turning my gaze ahead, I see both the Ordinal's expressions of disbelief. The Tenth Legionnaire doesn't waste another second and finally summons her final blow, lashing her other chain, along with more from the rest of those within the chamber.
My free hand darts, flawlessly capturing the speeding brass projectile, and the arrows coming from the winged Ordinal behind me dissolve into dust as it makes contact. Those wooden-made and metal-crafted ones from the other soldiers can't even touch me now that they rather just bounce against my skin after scratching through my clothing. I rise to my feet, still on hold of the chains. The electricity still crawls its way from the chains to me, though the evil lavender color coming from me starts to prevail and conquer. I'm even unbothered by the fact that the winged Ordinal is swooping around, still firing with her bow which only turns out ineffective.
As my blood boils in fury, I scream, feeling my body release tons and tons of evil-tinted energy through the shackles. Then with one thug on both of them, they burst with an explosion that sends me flying backward. I don't bother to witness the impact I've caused and just make a run for the exit as soon as I get to rise back. Still shut, I slam my body against the humungous doors, as if it'd even work.
From behind, my ears capture a glimmering sound as light seems to shine. I turn my head slowly, seeing the Ravenbird Ordinal, wings spread like an angel ascending the heavens, aiming one glimmering arrow that's brighter than those she had fired before. Being the Fifth Ordinal, it's not a surprise to see her fire newer ones.
Shifting my eyes down just a bit, I'm gazing upon the Third Ordinal, who still hasn't moved or been moved from his position after everything that occurred. Even his face still holds the cold and stern demeanor, never fazed. The Rune Writer Ordinal is a few feet ahead of him over the edge of the bridge that has collapsed, getting himself back up. The Steelshaper Ordinal is down on her back, clearly pained somehow as to how she clutches upon her side, the remains of her supposed indestructible Immortal Armament scattered around the stone bridge. Right now, I don't have time to parse the fact that I destroyed a supposed indestructible object.
Before I can look back to the winged Ordinal, the air has already splashed with a gunfire-like blas. I can only react with my arms raising in front of me, not a single second is given to me to evade. Before I know it, I'm flying uncontrollably, slamming into solid objects, and feel smoke and dust sneak through my nostrils and the seems of my eyes until I'm only lying on the rough and crumbly surface ground face first.
As I squint my eyes trying to retrieve my senses, a series of images flash before my eyes. Images of a cave, and far through it is a rock formation holding a glinting object. A sword.
"Now that the entity has awakened within you, you are a threat to this world. We have no choice but to terminate its host." I hear the familiar voice of the Third Ordinal, tone nonchalant as his footsteps meters away. "I've seen enough, and we cannot let it get further worse. Otherwise, you'll bring this world's final time of unmaking."
I tilt my head just a little, clearly seeing him standing a few meters away from me, countless armed Citadel Vanguards right at his command from behind. Looking up, I see where I have dropped from. The wall of that lofty dome shattered and left with a hole, and now I'm here in the middle of a curtain wall bridge, where I hear the quick rushing waters far below us.
My legs tremble as I return to my feet, then I think of his words. Unmaking…?
"Yes," He continues. "A second war is coming because of you. And it'll be the last."
I look at him with pure disbelief. Not long ago, he was making a proposal for me to have more knowledge about this entity living within me. And now he wants me dead? It was all just a set-up.
"It's an inscribed prophecy," He adds. "And that prophecy is something we Ordinals cannot let from happening."
I scan my surroundings as the cold afternoon air, brushes past me, only to see more Ravenbird soldiers surrounding me, all armed with bows aimed at me, waiting for the Ordinal's command to snap those arrows flying towards me.
"It would have been a great chance to have you in our alliance. But it turns out, you aren't worthy enough of this power. And you've said it yourself that you don't want it. So, the only way to take it from you is this."
I'm heaving air into my lungs, my one hand holding the pained muscle on my other arm. Then I notice it still persists with the energy, seemingly wanting to burst. I look behind me, where I find myself on a dead end.
"Your fellow comrades will now have their deaths given justice. Especially your beloved godfather," He says. Then the bricked ground starts collapsing, not because they've been rendered fragile, but because of the Earthbudgers. I notice how my arm is glowing — the same glow back at the desert. My instincts act and urge me to punch the ground. By the time I do, those Steelshapers have launched their metals along with the arrows of those ranged soldiers and the Fifth Ordinal. The next thing I know is that I'm falling.