[5 Minutes Ago]
Lysithea stopped for a moment with her hand just above the handle as she pulled open the door. She had seen an infinitesimal red light flashing gently near the ceiling and was in great bother immediately about what it might indicate.
Was that some kind of harbinger for danger? a setup?
She had tried not to think about it herself, remembering frantically Zane calling for the thing to be moved, so she took a deep breath, opened that door, and quickly went through. The red light still flared in that empty corridor, but at this time she didn't see it with her racing steps as she went on for dear life.
Lynsithea held onto the worn banister, catching her breath before taking the first step on the shattered, abandoned thoroughfare.
Her Snowy Owl flew ahead, wings silent as they scouted for any danger. The road looted in front of her lay empty and frightening, with chunks of the old world scattered about.
Just as she had made one step, cautious, a rough sound far ahead met her ear—a scream raw, loud with pain. Lynsithea's heart went into overdrive when realization of whom the voice belonged to stuck. It was Zane.
She stood totally motionless, every tense muscle inside her waiting for the oncoming calamity. His cries inaudible to everyone else resonated through her, rebounding around the silent city, amplifying his obvious pain.
Her mind raced, wanting more than anything to rush to him, but terrified of what she might find. The owl circled back, catching the new edge of distress and wondering around her, sharp eyes taking in the teardrops that welled in hers.
As Lynsithea clenched her hands into fists, she willed the trembling in. She couldn't just leave him. Gritting her teeth, she started walking, steps getting swifter and faster with every sound of Zane's cries that she chased.
Her heart egged her on. The fear wanted to keep her pinned tight to it.
Her eyes followed the gargantuan city wall of Sector 12, so far away that it made climbing it look impossible—a wall of separation from whatever scary things existed on the other side to her.
There was a racing in touch of its wings, by her, the bird bringing her; she saw that it brought her towards a small staircase that twisted up over the top of the wall.
He did not think for a second and dropped a book of photographs, watching it fall to the ground. The heart quickened in his chest, but it was too late.
Zane needed her help.
The owl screeched loud in her ears, the sound urging her to hurry up. Lynsithea ran in her sandals, which clacked over the worn pavement, toward the staircase; the sound caused her heart to bump faster in her chest.
Lynsithea just stood dumbstruck at what she had seen upon reaching the walltop. Writhe on the ground below her, Zane was in great pain, wounds oozing blood, his body being racked by something unimaginable to her. Her heart pounded as Sentinel brutally smashed Zane's head into the ground, again and again. The thud of that beating carried through the still dark night, and it made her stomach turn.
She wanted to scream, to shout for help, but she managed to silence herself. She would give away her position, and then they both would be done: her and Zane.
She watched, feeling helpless, as tears filled her eyes, her mind racing against time to find a way to rescue him without arousing Sentinel's suspicion.
She balled her fingers into fists, and thoughts of plans, any plan, had her magic stirring within her to keep Zane from the traitorous, unstable android.
She swept her outstretched arms back in, firmed her aim on Zane, concentration high with her focus on the magical reserves. Her white hair started to gleam as with some otherworldly effulgence. Into healing flowers where that pool of blood, which had already begun forming around Zane's body, rapidly and twistedly was blooming everywhere. Life upon life warring to eke survival from the dark and the flowers went then to coagulate and weave together his cuts and wounds, working fiercely fast to stop the bleeding.
An anguished scream tore from Zane's throat, sounding loudly pained in the night. Lynsithea could feel his anger, and it drove her that much harder.
You stay with me, Zane. I'm here. You gotta hold on to me, she said in a voice that shook but was resolute.
It was in the way she had mended him, while at the same time invigorating his strength against such a storm that raged around him.
"You're not more alone. I'll keep you safe," she murmured, steadying his voice even as the flowers continued to work on trying to heal him.
Though he couldn't hear her, Lynsithea knew very well that he could feel her. It was a two-way connection, and there was no denying it. And just as she emptied the last of her energy into the last of his healing, she felt something in him change. Bit by bit, some of the anger and pain overwhelming him seemed to fall away to the point where he knew it was her beside him, fighting in her way.
She channelled more and more, her hair glowing, brightening with the light, stronger as she gathered more focus.
"I'm with you, Zane" she whispered again, for though he could not hear the words, he could feel the intent behind them. And with those words whispered, strength began to flood through him.
The pain from his wounds dulled out, replaced with warmth and invigoration as the flowers of healing Lynsithea had called upon worked around. His vision was clearing, adding that to the fog of agony he'd been under in his mind; it all was lifting.
Zane's fingers closed around his sword as he started to rise to his feet. Determination surged through him. And anger, that swelled so large within his chest moments before, was tempered by purpose. Lynsithea held that for him. His bond standing by his side is a thing the words would never describe.
"Bring it on" he whispered under his breath with each word a syringe of determination being injected into his veins. With newfound strength refilled in his body, Zane prepared for a second meeting with Sentinel this time ready to fight back.
---
I had been crouched behind a pile of rubble, gasping for breath, trying to get something like clarity inside my head. Sentinel was smothering, a shadow that reached into every nook of my thoughts. I needed to sneak in as close as I could to him, but the ache in my shoulder and throb in my leg rebelled against letting me forget how breakable I was at the moment.
I looked down at my sword. It was different, though; the design had changed. The minute mechanical details were inlaid, and the glinting of this rather sinister version of my erstwhile sword was there in the dark, except for something new, something born of anger and desperation. Perhaps from my emotions? Had they somehow shaped the blade?
I tightened my grip on the hilt, which was now visibly throbbing with some kind of power that seeped into me along with whatever change this was.
That was when I finally saw the support column for the building I'd been hiding in. Now all I had to do was get the Sentinel to hit it; maybe I could use the collapse to my advantage. Pretty slim chance, but it wasn't like I had a lot of other options, just then. The entire inside of my body hurt. Yet I could feel Lynsithea's magic holding me together; her flowers were still working on healing the wounds.
"Hey, Sentinel!" I yelled across the ruined streets. "That's it? That's the best you've got? Or are you too afraid to finish it?"
Sentinel whirled around, and his eyes skewered me. [You think taunts will save you, boy?] His voice was extremely cold, without an ounce of emotion in it.
He came at me with a flicker of motion; an instant later, his whip-blade flashed into me, ripping through the air. I was too slow on the draw; the blade bit into my left arm, searing it with pain. Still, the very moment it touched me, the flowers Lynsithea had grown over my wounds corrected the cut, sealing it almost the same second it happened. I braced myself as the force contacted the pillar behind me. There was a crack and split of concrete as the pillar cracked open, groaning as it started to cave in on itself.
But Sentinel wasn't through. He didn't give me time to react, pressing his advantage, so I had to think fast before he realized the building was going down.
Sentinel charged at me once more, his whip-blade cutting through the air with razor-like sharpness. I just parried in time, though the force behind it brought sharp pain to my wrist and gave a thin line of blood. The impact sent his blade careening into the second pillar.
An ominous creak echoed through; it was deep. Volumes of dust were bellowed forth, also, in amounts too crazy almost to be imagined. I could see the cracks written on sections of the wall and ceiling, and then the structure gave way.
He did, his cold eyes narrowing. [You think this will stop me?] But I wasn't going to run and wait. I spun and ran, praying the collapse would give me the head start I needed. The earth shook under my feet as the building began to drop.
As I sprinted toward the last pillar, I could hear Sentinel right at my neck, all mechanical, biding his time and effortlessness. I could tell he was going to make one final, deadly strike. Just as I reached the pillar, I felt the rush of air as his whip-blade lashed out, aimed directly at my head.
I turned in time to avoid his direct cut, but the blade took my face's left side. Its slash was followed by a burst of pain as the skin parted to allow the blood to rise and pour down my cheek like rain. Stumbling, I managed to stay on my feet, watching as Sentinel's blade crashed into the last pillar.
The effect was instant. The building as a whole groaned, shuddering under the strain as cracks spider-webbed through the structure. Sentinel barely had time to pull back his weapon before the building began to collapse.
[You cannot outrun me, boy!]
The voice of Sentinel was now ravenous with rage, as the rubble began to shower down. I wasn't going to make it easy for him, no way. I sprinted through raining debris, praying the falling building would hold him back enough to give me a fighting chance.
Sentinel turn his head upwards, glowing red eyes slanting as he realized what was happening.
The building was coming down right on top of him. [This won't stop me] he growled, his grip tightening around the whip-blade, and he started striking out with a dangerous grace, cutting concrete and steel in powerful slashes.
Every last bit of that building that came down hit the energized blade, it shattered into smaller fragments. But in focusing on deflecting the debris, he didn't notice, all this chaos was a part of my plan.
I used the smoke and dust to my advantage, quickly bridging the gap. The noise of crumbling stone and a relentless throwing arm of Sentinel covered mine. Boosted with adrenaline, I chucked myself through the thick cloud of dust with my sword pointed straight at the back of his neck.
"Gotcha"
I whispered in an ordinary tone.
Leaping up onto Sentinel's back, I sunk the point of my sword deep into the back of his neck. The collision point sprayed showers of sparks, and the hiss of frying circuits and glitching systems sounded. Sentinel is having trouble, with error and malfunction alerts showing up all over his interface, but he was not done yet.
The next thing Sentinel did was send me reeling off with a mechanical growl. He was getting frantic and desperate now, and the building still tumbled around us.
Chunks of debris rained down, smashing into the ground with thunderous impacts, but I held on, determined to finish this.
I yanked free my sword and stabbed into his neck once more, then again, with each strike sending more of his systems into chaos. At each blow, the Sentinel reeled, meteor-hurled into erratic, almost dervish-like movements. A being that once had been a powerhouse was now staggering to stand, the body convulsing as it sought to maintain control.
But I didn't stop. I continued to drive the blade into his neck, over and over, until the misalignments grew insurmountable, and the mechanical titan below me began to buckle.
With a desperate flick, Sentinel swung his whip-blade through an arc that struck my sword and knocked it from my grasp. But by then, it was too late for him. I'd already found what I was looking for.
Through the torn metal and arcing circuits at his neck, I could see a bundle of exposed wires. I took hold, trying to ignore the searing pain as Sentinel's blade sliced across my arm.
"You're done, Sentinel!" I growled through gritted teeth, and with every ounce of strength left in me, I yanked the wires as hard as I could.
His body convulsed hard as his systems went haywire. He sought to struggle back, but now he was slow, growing weaker by the second.
[You. can't.] cracked his voice, full of static.
I tightened my grip and pulled harder. "I can, and I will!"
Sentinel's strength ebbed away, his attempts to shake me off growing feebler as I continued to tear at the wires. The once-powerful android was crumbling, his systems failing with each desperate tug. A final yank, and something broke. Sentinel's body convulsed as the red glow in his eyes fluttered and died when he collapsed to his knees. He was finished.
---
As soon as the dust had settled, with crumbling bits from the collapsing building settling to rest, Lynsithea opened her eyes amidst smoke and falling dust. Her heart pounded in her chest as her wandering eyes set into the wreckage; her hands seemed so weakened, trembling with fatigue and in fear.
What was once a very clear connection she shared with Zane was lost now as she felt her body consumed with dread.
It had taken so much from her, and she looked down at her own body to see the many scratches and cuts that decorated her skin. They were similar in nature to the many injuries Zane had, reflecting back on her just how much danger they both had been in.
Lynsithea gasped raggedly for breath, stretched upon her back trying to hoist herself up to her feet. She grimaced from the pain that flared within her battered body. She looked left and right, around the wreckage, desperately searching for Zane.
"Zane!" she called, her voice barely audible over the dust and rubble that were settling.
Her tone betrayed a degree of worry and urgency as she continued raking her eyes around in desperate search for some sign of life from her companion.
She then hastened downstairs, never stopping to think about the debris; she just waded her way through it as she ran on and on to catch a glimpse of Zane. She then ran below to the debris of the building laying under the pile where Zane's struggle had taken place.
"Zane" she cried, her voice now tinged with despair. "Talk to me, Zane!"
She blinked through the dust fog, and the sounds were those of concrete crumbling, groaning metal. She dug madly in the wreckage, her efforts so strong she could feel the blood flowing from her hands. Again, she called out, the sound in her own ears filled with fear and hope.
"Zane! Where are you?"
The air seemed heavy with the grief that his words left behind, but Lynsithea wasn't one to give in. She kept up the sentry look, her breath ragged with wrestling in chaos of aftermath and churning debris, hoping for a glimmer of life from within the wreckage.
The dust began to clear, all the tension seemed to seep from Lynsithea's body, and she finally saw Zane through the dust. It was likely that very view that made her look up with a mixture of exhaustion and satisfaction, holding both Sentinel and his sword with him very much alive, an amazing sight to her.
She walked at a fairly good pace to the other side of the pugilist, making her strides longer despite her own injuries. Something in the weight of the battle seemed to shift at his touch, although she could still see his toll. Zane's breaths continued hard and labored but finding some sort of rhythm as he slowly relaxed, the immediate danger seemingly past.
And the next moment, hoarsely but determinedly, he said, "Neutiquam erro."
Though phrase was unfamiliar to her, Lynsithea heard in his word the finality and resolution. She kneeled beside him and extended her hand across a mix of concern and relief.
"Oh, Zane. You survived! You are safe." She exhaled before converting her juddering voice to the desired pitch of the moment.
As Zane nodded weakly, the strain of the battle overwhelmingly tiring him, his vision blurred, and he finally succumbed to exhaustion. He passed out, dropping to the ground.
Lynsithea rushed over, brow furrowed in concern as she knelt beside him. She noticed the sword in his hand was changing, reverting back to its sleek, menacing appearance, the familiar shape of the Nova Watch.
"This… this is like an old watch" she muttered, her fingers brushing across the surface of the sword. "He's gone through so much…"
She looked up into the fallen building where debris was still falling to the ground, then back to Zane, her eyes softening at the sight of the metamorphosis of the sword, a sign that the fierce battle had finally come to an end.
"Hang in there, Zane," she whispered to him, her voice hoarse with a mix of exhaustion and hope. "We'll get through this. You've fought so hard."
With Zane fainted and the immediate danger past, Lynsithea knew she had to focus on getting them to safety and tending their injuries. She took a deep breath, bracing for what lay ahead.
She refocused on the figure emerging from the darkness. As he waded farther into clear view, it was plain that this was another android, his form unique and powerful in his own right.
"Who. who is that?" Lynsithea asked, trying to keep her voice from shaking as she set her stance, ready for yet another fight.
The android features resolved into a face both familiar and all too recognizable, with an presence that was uniquely his. Zane whimpered, still fighting to keep his eyes open, "It's. Ethan Porter. He's. he's the one who taught me. how to survive."
Ethan Porter stepped closer, steady and mechanical, a rifle held in his grip, his stance authoritative. His gaze swept over the scene, taking in the wreckage and the defeated Sentinel.
[Zane?] Ethan's voice rang across the air, his voice laced with a degree of surprise and concern. [Good to see you're still breathing. But we need to get out of here. This place isn't safe.]
Lynsithea nearly collapsed in relief at the familiar shape of Ethan. "Ethan? You're here to help us?"
[Yes] Ethan said, his eyes flashing to Zane and his wounds, [I got here as fast as I could. We've got to go, quick. Those Inquisitors are hot on our trail.]
Lynsithea nodded and let the fear transforming in her heart fill her with the kind of rising purpose she'd never felt. "What do we do?"
[Get Zane to his feet] Ethan ordered, already moving over to help in that regard, [and get him to shelter for first aid. We can't stop, it's not safe here.]
Lynsithea had started to help Ethan get Zane to his feet while she gave a grateful look to the android. "Thank you, Ethan. I just don't know what we would do without you."
Ethan nodded reassuringly. "Let's focus on getting to safety first. We will deal with the rest once we are out of immediate danger."
With the dust settling, Ethan helps Lynsithea and Zane out of the wreckage. They heavily fell on their feet, exhausted, yet time was renewably pressing on, so the three managed to cross the perilous streets of Æsir city.
They made their way back to the mansion, Zane carefully supported between them. Slumping cityscape gradually gave way to the familiar, albeit abandoned, haven that had once been Ethan's sanctuary.
Ethan was quick with Zane's injuries, working fast within the old walls of the mansion, while Lynsithea hovered at his elbow, exhaustion of her own momentarily forgotten in the urgent concern for Zane. This mansion that had once been a place of solitude now seemed fragile in refuge, a place of temporary haven from the chaos outside.
As they settled in, the reality began to actually sink in. The tension of the battles fought and danger still lurking seemed to almost be bypassed by this very fleeting sense of calm associated with the knowledge that, for now, they were safe. Long shadows from the dim light in the mansion formed on the walls, silent witnesses to trials borne and an uncertain future ahead.