Marshall's threat ends as Azra scoffs, her tiny shoulders ignoring the height difference. Then, she lifts her Ordnance and points it at Marshall. The old man twists around the moment he sees it and yowls backward at Tomas and me.
"Get away!"
Then the next instant, my vision goes black as a man faster than me tackles me to the ground and beneath cover. A roaring deafness inundates me for a second before light returns as Tomas rolls off me and stands, his back shaking and smoky.
I barely have time to worry about him as I see a new street carved into Bent, a ten-foot-wide and tall lane of melted stone, wood, and steel. Detonations of force ring out as Marshall strikes toward Azra, and blinding shots propel themselves from Johnny as he endeavors to kill an Angel. The world itself seems to shake under the brief exchanges of Angels before me.
My whole body trembles in surprise at the instant death that almost occurred, and I pivot to look at Tomas as he falls to his knees. I gasp aloud as I see his entire back has been reduced to the point that I can see his spine clearly, the bone charred and black.
Tomas grunts out a word to me as he tumbles forward, his knuckles the only things propping him up.
"Run."
He tells me to run. But where? In front of us are two Angels, one with an Armament and another with wings. The Pygmy with the fire-throwing Colt now battles Johnny, the two constantly trading shots as the Pygmy already calls for help. And it gets it in the form of nearly a dozen 6th Sigils that harry the gunslinger with a wide variety of attacks.
Meanwhile, I can hear the discussion of the two in front of me.
"Timune, you want to strike at the fort? Your wings are better for that. I'll deal with the Wolf and the kid."
Timune, the Pygmy with the metallic wings, nods, before shooting into the sky. As they do so, however, an impact shakes the sky. Marshall slams his fist into the ground as Azra manages to dodge, and the force almost knocks Timune from the air.
Azra shouts for Timune before the male Pygmy flies away.
"Timune! Come back! Marshall's getting rowdy!"
The flier darts back with her wings instantly, moving to make it a two versus one for Marshall. I move to do something, anything, but Tomas grunts at me once more.
"Go!"
I turn away, about to accept his order and pull him with me until I see a man rushing toward me. Scott, the foremost doctor of Bent. Around him is his guard detail as the man moves with an alacrity inconsistent with the man I know. He waves and points to Tomas as I hear a voice behind me.
"Where do you think your going, kid?"
I twist to hear a garbled and distorted voice coming from a dark steel artifact. Merely twenty feet away, and getting closer, is Amirin, the third Angel present. My heart shoots up to a thousand beats per minute as my Ether surges, and my lungs inhale a deep gasp of Ether. Arbalest prepares my legs as I reach forward and latch onto Tomas with Leash, the newest form longer and more stable.
Then, I shunt myself backward toward Scott, flinging Tomas at the doctor as I retreat as hastily as possible. Of course, Amirin, the Steeled Body, pursues me. A clash of metals reckons onto the world as he stampedes at me.
And while I'm faster than him at first, moving down the ruined street, he accelerates with unstoppable momentum. I glance toward Scott as I see one of his men catch Tomas and the rest sprinting for the Pygmy and me before I cease my escape.
I want to use Ballista, but not yet. I need to get through that armor first. There is a chance it can take a hit from it. At the very least, I need to damage it.
So, instead, I Daydream of a tougher, denser, and more extensive Bloody Palm as I frantically urge the artifact to extend into a bony shield. And it does, my flesh expanding to fit the more significant bone as I pivot and slam my feet into the ground facing Amirin. Release flows into my knees and arm as I endeavor to become an immovable wall. I aim to be just like the idol a hundred feet away fighting what would be an impossible battle for anyone else in his position.
And at a glance, it seems Amirin was not expecting this, as he chooses to barrel into me instead of drawing a weapon. I brace for impact with everything I have, and the Bloody Palm joins me as bone juts from the massive shield in front of me to create tendrils into the stone beneath for stabilization.
Then, the Angel reaches me.
My whole vision goes pale as everything shakes and swims before gradually returning to me. I blink my eyes open as I realize I'm prone on the broken stone dozens of feet from where I was hit.
I don't notice the tumbling way, the impact itself, or even the after-effect. The pain slowly unfolds as I look down to see my chest caved in despite all my preparations. The bony shield and my ribs are broken, but my artifact rapidly attempts to repair them.
Coughing out phlegm of blood, I push myself to my feet, only to see something I wish I had not.
Amirin towers over a dozen dead guards and other soldiers that must have arrived while I was unconscious as he lifts Scott into the air. Grunting, I reach my feet, but a single step has me woozy. I think I might have a concussion.
Holding my head, I take another step, but the world becomes blurry. Every building, every burgeoning flame, every cooling body, and every raging battle squirms and shifts in my resonant vision.
Yet, I stand with a defiant step and suck in another gasp of air as Amirin swings Scott's frail form toward the ground. I try to force my Ether into action as my adrenaline turns the world stable again. But I'm too slow, and Scott's screaming form nears the debris below at a speed that would certainly kill him.
I push with all my might, propelling myself forward with Arbalest and Breakneck, but I'm too slow.
Yet, someone else isn't. A partially furred form of a human bolts underneath Amirin's slam and yanks Scott from the man as they then roll away. The figure then stands to about Tomas' height and opens his hands as sharp claws descend from their hands. And at the same time, I notice a horrible burn upon their back, not quite reaching the spine, but not too far.
Is that Tomas?
Another explosion rips my focus away as I see three more figures upon the top of the wall, each of them clad in magenta chains as well. More Pygmies. They are going all out. Fuck. We need to get out.
"Tomas! We need to go!"
The man, whose upper body is covered in fur like that of a Rougarou, growls out an answer as he charges at Amirin.
"Not without the General!"
And he calls me a dumbass! Shaking my head, I hustle after him, not wanting the man to die in his hubris. I watch him block a strike from Amirin with his forearm before the Armament bursts with a sawblade from the steel, gnawing into his flesh. Tomas growls in pain before swiping a laceration across Amirin's armor, cutting deeply into the dense steel on the chest.
My feet bring me closer as Tomas is tossed away before he charges back in, going straight for that minor wound in the metal again. Instantly, I understand what he's doing. He's trying to dig through it enough for my Ballista.
And so, I'll help him a little bit.
Once I get close, the Bloody Palm shifts into a shield, and I pivot my body to get in the way of Tomas and Amirin as the Wolf's injuries are getting seriously bad. Blood leaks from all his wounds already, and I don't even know how bad that bit on his back is, even if Scott managed to help a little. I shout toward him before Amirin strikes me with a bullet from his arm's miniature cannon.
"Have Scott heal you! I'll hold on!"
Tomas nods before sliding back toward Scott. And then, the bullet hits my shield, sending me head over heels. Meanwhile, Amirin follows up and grabs my leg with one of his metallic arms. I can almost feel time slow as he lifts me into the air, positioning to impale me on the many spear-like segments of debris. And I follow through with it, using Liberation to give me time to think.
I ask the Bloody Palm for confirmation on something risky. I seriously don't want to be slammed into those spikes of rock and steel. I'm pretty sure that will kill me. I'm unsure if the Bloody Palm can react fast enough to reply, but it doesn't hurt to try.
"Can you regrow my leg?"
A second passes for me, the word at large moving at infinitesimally short paces. Then two. Then three. Then ten. Then twenty. Then a hundred.
Then, I get a single note of a high-pitched growl, the Bloody Palm's affirmative. Internally sighing, I reach deep and bestow my arm with both Hone and Reach, the sharpness extending far beyond the shield my arm embodies.
"This is very serious. If we kill these Angels and survive, I'll give you one of their artifacts. Turn my arm into a blade when you can."
I don't wait for a slow reply as I want to conserve as much Ether as possible, so I end Liberation. And as my arm shifts and contorts, twisting into a blade of bone, I slice it at my shin where I am held.
The blade of bone effortlessly glides through my shin, and I lose the force of Amirin. Rotating my upper body in the air, pleading with the Bloody Palm, my arm turns back into a shield of bone as I impact and bounce off a sharp pillar of metal before landing on the stone.
Both cool and warm sensations enter me as they rush for my shin, attempting to regrow my lower leg and foot. I can feel Lily trying to help as the surge is more significant from her than ever before, disregarding when I shoot through her barrel. And while I am happy for the help, I worry for what it means. A lot are dying right now. So many.
Amirin, surprised, scrutinizes me, then the foot in his armored grasp before shrugging and striding toward me. A low chuckle distorts itself from the confines of his armor.
"Ruthless, kid. Ruthless. I like it."
Almost gasping aloud in pain, I hobble awkwardly on one foot as the other heals. Meanwhile, Amirin nears me, getting closer and closer. But I'm not alone, and Tomas returns, his wounds mostly recovered through Scott's miraculous work. The Wolf dashes for Amirin, leaping off a wall as he slashes at the chest plate with his claw. The damage to the metal grows deeper as Tomas repeatedly strikes at Amirin, but the Angel has had enough.
I watch the Armament turn around and raise a greave toward Scott as I push myself forward, only to land on my face from my leg that has only healed to my ankle from my shin. Meanwhile, Amirin bashes Tomas back with one arm as a detonation occurs in his arm, propelling a ball of steel directly into Scott's head. Scott, the doctor of Marshall Travis for decades, falls silently without a groan and an open head.
Unable to scream from the Strugglers Gasp in my lungs, I hear Tomas do it for me as rage, sorrow, and hate flow from the man only a few years older than me. His claws dig into the ground as he bolts forward at Amirin. Again, Amirin smacks Tomas away, but the Wolf lands on a nearby wall, digging his claws into the stone before darting for Scott's body.
The moment Tomas lands beside Scott, the feeling in my foot returns, and I rush to help. Arbalests carry me forward, yet I arrive too late.
Amirin beats Tomas into the ground, fist after fist of steel raining down onto the flesh below as the Wolf constantly grunts in pain. Unable to watch the man die like this in front of me, I do the only thing that will deal any amount of severe damage to such a foe.
Ballista comes to form as my flesh twists, and a Daydream, Hone, and Reach empowers it. The Bloody Palm springs the weapon imagined from Lily backward as I aim it toward Amirin's head. Yet as I go to squeeze the trigger, a stunning change occurs.
A single powerful beat fills the air, enunciating the arrival of man's Painsforge. Yet, only two in the world know the legendary Dzil.
A roar of unbridled defiance sings out of the crumpling Tomas as the man bursts from the hole he's been smashed into, and the man tackles Amirin to the building across from him, the stone buckling from the force.
Seeing the crazed form of Tomas, with strips of flesh and muscle falling from him, I aim the Ballista to finish the job.
********************
Tomas, the Wolf
My breath comes in ragged heaves as I slam this armored Pygmy into the wall, my Absolution giving me the strength of the strongest wolves, the Rougarou. Painsforge, however, is what keeps me standing. Every ounce of pain turns into a pound of rageful power. My Claws dig into the metal of this Pygmy's steel, seeking the flesh beneath, and meanwhile, I prepare to ingest Heath's Sigil. Among his many is a Soldier, precisely what I want.
A moment ago, I achieved my Proof; I can feel it. I now only have to imbibe his Sigil. Grunting to keep my pace up on the armor, I feel my force waver, and Amirin takes advantage, throwing me away from him as organs fall from my body. But Painsforge only bolsters my strength, even as I tumble to the side. Few understand truly what that means.
Wyatt attempts to make up for my wounds, dashing in to buy me time, and I take it, hauling myself to Scott's dead form with my wounded arms. I must look like a dying man with all the blood around me, but I do not care. I'm a soldier. And soldiers don't quit.
A moment later, my Claw reaches for Scott's heart, forcing my way toward his Sigil.
I'm sorry. But you'd understand, sir—anything for the General.
*************
Wyatt Graves
A roar behind me covers the air as I feel my arm break, the bone barely covering my Ballista from the sight of Amirin. I allow myself to roll backward from the hit without contest as a figure passes me faster than I can see, clad in magenta.
And when I look forward, I see a Rougarou, no Tomas with the stature of one, barrel into Amirin, knocking him over and mauling his armor. I don't take the moment to ponder what's happening; instead, I move around to see Amirin's chest. And when I do, I aim my Ballista, tugging on the trigger between swipes.
A sonic boom deafens us all as the bolt careens through Amirin's armor and into him and explodes against the back of his Armament, dealing lethal damage to any mortal. Yet, he is an Angel, not a mortal, capable of withstanding untold punishment. So, Amirin roars with anger as Tomas retaliates and shoves his entire fist through the hole, digging around to kill the Pygmy.
I fall to my knees, heaving for air as Tomas ends the short man in armor, then he falls backward, blood leaking from his body in every location possible.
Fuck. He needs help—right this instant. I reach into my pocket and pull out the Philiam as I force my way to him through the rubble, tipping the liquid into his throat.
The man gladly takes it, and I visibly see his wounds heal, closing at a pace only a bit slower than the Bloody Palm. Almost thirty seconds pass before Tomas opens his eyes and sits up, ordering me with a pained voice. His eyes are tinged red for only a moment before he sighs deeply and calms himself. What mental fortitude...
"Get up. We need to help Marshall and Johnny. They brought a Virtue and six Powers. Marshall can handle the former and maybe two Powers, while Johnny probably has one Power himself. That means..."
I finish his words as figures force themselves through rubble and debris, showing themselves to us—Bonfire, Frozen, Clumsy, Abraham, Virgil, and Skyswain. The six seem to be sticking together because of Bonfire and Abraham's promise.
"We will have to deal with two more. At least."
Lifting himself off the floor as red liquid cascades from him, Tomas agrees, continuing his words.
"That is if demons don't arrive as well. They might contest the Pygmies after Bent is gone, but until then, they will ally against us. Too many are scared of Vincent's coming actions. They are fearful of what Marshall will do at the end of his life. Can you imagine their despair against the Prime?"
I give Virgil a quick hug and shake Bonfire's hand as we greet each other, and Tomas tells them what's happening. But before he can get far into his words, a duo of magenta-fettered Pygmies steps onto the street ruined by Azra's Ordnance. An annoyed voice comes from the female on the right.
"Ah, I knew there would be some here. Azra sure is something..."
Seeing them, I react instantly, not waiting a moment. If this isn't an emergency, I don't know what is.
The Bloomy Spider Lily blossoms from my holster, the barrel pointing right at the speaking Pygmy. All I see before I pull the trigger is her raise her eyebrows and a hand.
Then, a stream of darkness covers us, the chilly sensation dying the world black for a moment as I feel all my pain fade away and a joyful voice in my ear.
"Thanks! But, uh... she's not dead yet. I'm not that good, y'know?"
The Cardinal vanishes from my sight to reveal the Pygmy collapsing to the floor like an old woman, her flesh mottled and sunken as the other leans to help her. Meanwhile, I feel a hollowness in my body, the price for a bullet from Lily.
I don't know how bad it is, but I'll have to see later as the other Angel is real, real angry, literal flames exuding from his nodes.
Marshall's threat ends as Azra scoffs, her tiny shoulders ignoring the height difference. Then, she lifts her Ordnance and points it at Marshall. The old man twists around the moment he sees it and yowls backward at Tomas and me.
"Get away!"
Then the next instant, my vision goes black as a man faster than me tackles me to the ground and beneath cover. A roaring deafness inundates me for a second before light returns as Tomas rolls off me and stands, his back shaking and smoky.
I barely have time to worry about him as I see a new street carved into Bent, a ten-foot-wide and tall lane of melted stone, wood, and steel. Detonations of force ring out as Marshall strikes toward Azra, and blinding shots propel themselves from Johnny as he endeavors to kill an Angel. The world itself seems to shake under the brief exchanges of Angels before me.
My whole body trembles in surprise at the instant death that almost occurred, and I pivot to look at Tomas as he falls to his knees. I gasp aloud as I see his entire back has been reduced to the point that I can see his spine clearly, the bone charred and black.
Tomas grunts out a word to me as he tumbles forward, his knuckles the only things propping him up.
"Run."
He tells me to run. But where? In front of us are two Angels, one with an Armament and another with wings. The Pygmy with the fire-throwing Colt now battles Johnny, the two constantly trading shots as the Pygmy already calls for help. And it gets it in the form of nearly a dozen 6th Sigils that harry the gunslinger with a wide variety of attacks.
Meanwhile, I can hear the discussion of the two in front of me.
"Timune, you want to strike at the fort? Your wings are better for that. I'll deal with the Wolf and the kid."
Timune, the Pygmy with the metallic wings, nods, before shooting into the sky. As they do so, however, an impact shakes the sky. Marshall slams his fist into the ground as Azra manages to dodge, and the force almost knocks Timune from the air.
Azra shouts for Timune before the male Pygmy flies away.
"Timune! Come back! Marshall's getting rowdy!"
The flier darts back with her wings instantly, moving to make it a two versus one for Marshall. I move to do something, anything, but Tomas grunts at me once more.
"Go!"
I turn away, about to accept his order and pull him with me until I see a man rushing toward me. Scott, the foremost doctor of Bent. Around him is his guard detail as the man moves with an alacrity inconsistent with the man I know. He waves and points to Tomas as I hear a voice behind me.
"Where do you think your going, kid?"
I twist to hear a garbled and distorted voice coming from a dark steel artifact. Merely twenty feet away, and getting closer, is Amirin, the third Angel present. My heart shoots up to a thousand beats per minute as my Ether surges, and my lungs inhale a deep gasp of Ether. Arbalest prepares my legs as I reach forward and latch onto Tomas with Leash, the newest form longer and more stable.
Then, I shunt myself backward toward Scott, flinging Tomas at the doctor as I retreat as hastily as possible. Of course, Amirin, the Steeled Body, pursues me. A clash of metals reckons onto the world as he stampedes at me.
And while I'm faster than him at first, moving down the ruined street, he accelerates with unstoppable momentum. I glance toward Scott as I see one of his men catch Tomas and the rest sprinting for the Pygmy and me before I cease my escape.
I want to use Ballista, but not yet. I need to get through that armor first. There is a chance it can take a hit from it. At the very least, I need to damage it.
So, instead, I Daydream of a tougher, denser, and more extensive Bloody Palm as I frantically urge the artifact to extend into a bony shield. And it does, my flesh expanding to fit the more significant bone as I pivot and slam my feet into the ground facing Amirin. Release flows into my knees and arm as I endeavor to become an immovable wall. I aim to be just like the idol a hundred feet away fighting what would be an impossible battle for anyone else in his position.
And at a glance, it seems Amirin was not expecting this, as he chooses to barrel into me instead of drawing a weapon. I brace for impact with everything I have, and the Bloody Palm joins me as bone juts from the massive shield in front of me to create tendrils into the stone beneath for stabilization.
Then, the Angel reaches me.
My whole vision goes pale as everything shakes and swims before gradually returning to me. I blink my eyes open as I realize I'm prone on the broken stone dozens of feet from where I was hit.
I don't notice the tumbling way, the impact itself, or even the after-effect. The pain slowly unfolds as I look down to see my chest caved in despite all my preparations. The bony shield and my ribs are broken, but my artifact rapidly attempts to repair them.
Coughing out phlegm of blood, I push myself to my feet, only to see something I wish I had not.
Amirin towers over a dozen dead guards and other soldiers that must have arrived while I was unconscious as he lifts Scott into the air. Grunting, I reach my feet, but a single step has me woozy. I think I might have a concussion.
Holding my head, I take another step, but the world becomes blurry. Every building, every burgeoning flame, every cooling body, and every raging battle squirms and shifts in my resonant vision.
Yet, I stand with a defiant step and suck in another gasp of air as Amirin swings Scott's frail form toward the ground. I try to force my Ether into action as my adrenaline turns the world stable again. But I'm too slow, and Scott's screaming form nears the debris below at a speed that would certainly kill him.
I push with all my might, propelling myself forward with Arbalest and Breakneck, but I'm too slow.
Yet, someone else isn't. A partially furred form of a human bolts underneath Amirin's slam and yanks Scott from the man as they then roll away. The figure then stands to about Tomas' height and opens his hands as sharp claws descend from their hands. And at the same time, I notice a horrible burn upon their back, not quite reaching the spine, but not too far.
Is that Tomas?
Another explosion rips my focus away as I see three more figures upon the top of the wall, each of them clad in magenta chains as well. More Pygmies. They are going all out. Fuck. We need to get out.
"Tomas! We need to go!"
The man, whose upper body is covered in fur like that of a Rougarou, growls out an answer as he charges at Amirin.
"Not without the General!"
And he calls me a dumbass! Shaking my head, I hustle after him, not wanting the man to die in his hubris. I watch him block a strike from Amirin with his forearm before the Armament bursts with a sawblade from the steel, gnawing into his flesh. Tomas growls in pain before swiping a laceration across Amirin's armor, cutting deeply into the dense steel on the chest.
My feet bring me closer as Tomas is tossed away before he charges back in, going straight for that minor wound in the metal again. Instantly, I understand what he's doing. He's trying to dig through it enough for my Ballista.
And so, I'll help him a little bit.
Once I get close, the Bloody Palm shifts into a shield, and I pivot my body to get in the way of Tomas and Amirin as the Wolf's injuries are getting seriously bad. Blood leaks from all his wounds already, and I don't even know how bad that bit on his back is, even if Scott managed to help a little. I shout toward him before Amirin strikes me with a bullet from his arm's miniature cannon.
"Have Scott heal you! I'll hold on!"
Tomas nods before sliding back toward Scott. And then, the bullet hits my shield, sending me head over heels. Meanwhile, Amirin follows up and grabs my leg with one of his metallic arms. I can almost feel time slow as he lifts me into the air, positioning to impale me on the many spear-like segments of debris. And I follow through with it, using Liberation to give me time to think.
I ask the Bloody Palm for confirmation on something risky. I seriously don't want to be slammed into those spikes of rock and steel. I'm pretty sure that will kill me. I'm unsure if the Bloody Palm can react fast enough to reply, but it doesn't hurt to try.
"Can you regrow my leg?"
A second passes for me, the word at large moving at infinitesimally short paces. Then two. Then three. Then ten. Then twenty. Then a hundred.
Then, I get a single note of a high-pitched growl, the Bloody Palm's affirmative. Internally sighing, I reach deep and bestow my arm with both Hone and Reach, the sharpness extending far beyond the shield my arm embodies.
"This is very serious. If we kill these Angels and survive, I'll give you one of their artifacts. Turn my arm into a blade when you can."
I don't wait for a slow reply as I want to conserve as much Ether as possible, so I end Liberation. And as my arm shifts and contorts, twisting into a blade of bone, I slice it at my shin where I am held.
The blade of bone effortlessly glides through my shin, and I lose the force of Amirin. Rotating my upper body in the air, pleading with the Bloody Palm, my arm turns back into a shield of bone as I impact and bounce off a sharp pillar of metal before landing on the stone.
Both cool and warm sensations enter me as they rush for my shin, attempting to regrow my lower leg and foot. I can feel Lily trying to help as the surge is more significant from her than ever before, disregarding when I shoot through her barrel. And while I am happy for the help, I worry for what it means. A lot are dying right now. So many.
Amirin, surprised, scrutinizes me, then the foot in his armored grasp before shrugging and striding toward me. A low chuckle distorts itself from the confines of his armor.
"Ruthless, kid. Ruthless. I like it."
Almost gasping aloud in pain, I hobble awkwardly on one foot as the other heals. Meanwhile, Amirin nears me, getting closer and closer. But I'm not alone, and Tomas returns, his wounds mostly recovered through Scott's miraculous work. The Wolf dashes for Amirin, leaping off a wall as he slashes at the chest plate with his claw. The damage to the metal grows deeper as Tomas repeatedly strikes at Amirin, but the Angel has had enough.
I watch the Armament turn around and raise a greave toward Scott as I push myself forward, only to land on my face from my leg that has only healed to my ankle from my shin. Meanwhile, Amirin bashes Tomas back with one arm as a detonation occurs in his arm, propelling a ball of steel directly into Scott's head. Scott, the doctor of Marshall Travis for decades, falls silently without a groan and an open head.
Unable to scream from the Strugglers Gasp in my lungs, I hear Tomas do it for me as rage, sorrow, and hate flow from the man only a few years older than me. His claws dig into the ground as he bolts forward at Amirin. Again, Amirin smacks Tomas away, but the Wolf lands on a nearby wall, digging his claws into the stone before darting for Scott's body.
The moment Tomas lands beside Scott, the feeling in my foot returns, and I rush to help. Arbalests carry me forward, yet I arrive too late.
Amirin beats Tomas into the ground, fist after fist of steel raining down onto the flesh below as the Wolf constantly grunts in pain. Unable to watch the man die like this in front of me, I do the only thing that will deal any amount of severe damage to such a foe.
Ballista comes to form as my flesh twists, and a Daydream, Hone, and Reach empowers it. The Bloody Palm springs the weapon imagined from Lily backward as I aim it toward Amirin's head. Yet as I go to squeeze the trigger, a stunning change occurs.
A single powerful beat fills the air, enunciating the arrival of man's Painsforge. Yet, only two in the world know the legendary Dzil.
A roar of unbridled defiance sings out of the crumpling Tomas as the man bursts from the hole he's been smashed into, and the man tackles Amirin to the building across from him, the stone buckling from the force.
Seeing the crazed form of Tomas, with strips of flesh and muscle falling from him, I aim the Ballista to finish the job.
********************
Tomas, the Wolf
My breath comes in ragged heaves as I slam this armored Pygmy into the wall, my Absolution giving me the strength of the strongest wolves, the Rougarou. Painsforge, however, is what keeps me standing. Every ounce of pain turns into a pound of rageful power. My Claws dig into the metal of this Pygmy's steel, seeking the flesh beneath, and meanwhile, I prepare to ingest Heath's Sigil. Among his many is a Soldier, precisely what I want.
A moment ago, I achieved my Proof; I can feel it. I now only have to imbibe his Sigil. Grunting to keep my pace up on the armor, I feel my force waver, and Amirin takes advantage, throwing me away from him as organs fall from my body. But Painsforge only bolsters my strength, even as I tumble to the side. Few understand truly what that means.
Wyatt attempts to make up for my wounds, dashing in to buy me time, and I take it, hauling myself to Scott's dead form with my wounded arms. I must look like a dying man with all the blood around me, but I do not care. I'm a soldier. And soldiers don't quit.
A moment later, my Claw reaches for Scott's heart, forcing my way toward his Sigil.
I'm sorry. But you'd understand, sir—anything for the General.
*************
Wyatt Graves
A roar behind me covers the air as I feel my arm break, the bone barely covering my Ballista from the sight of Amirin. I allow myself to roll backward from the hit without contest as a figure passes me faster than I can see, clad in magenta.
And when I look forward, I see a Rougarou, no Tomas with the stature of one, barrel into Amirin, knocking him over and mauling his armor. I don't take the moment to ponder what's happening; instead, I move around to see Amirin's chest. And when I do, I aim my Ballista, tugging on the trigger between swipes.
A sonic boom deafens us all as the bolt careens through Amirin's armor and into him and explodes against the back of his Armament, dealing lethal damage to any mortal. Yet, he is an Angel, not a mortal, capable of withstanding untold punishment. So, Amirin roars with anger as Tomas retaliates and shoves his entire fist through the hole, digging around to kill the Pygmy.
I fall to my knees, heaving for air as Tomas ends the short man in armor, then he falls backward, blood leaking from his body in every location possible.
Fuck. He needs help—right this instant. I reach into my pocket and pull out the Philiam as I force my way to him through the rubble, tipping the liquid into his throat.
The man gladly takes it, and I visibly see his wounds heal, closing at a pace only a bit slower than the Bloody Palm. Almost thirty seconds pass before Tomas opens his eyes and sits up, ordering me with a pained voice. His eyes are tinged red for only a moment before he sighs deeply and calms himself. What mental fortitude...
"Get up. We need to help Marshall and Johnny. They brought a Virtue and six Powers. Marshall can handle the former and maybe two Powers, while Johnny probably has one Power himself. That means..."
I finish his words as figures force themselves through rubble and debris, showing themselves to us—Bonfire, Frozen, Clumsy, Abraham, Virgil, and Skyswain. The six seem to be sticking together because of Bonfire and Abraham's promise.
"We will have to deal with two more. At least."
Lifting himself off the floor as red liquid cascades from him, Tomas agrees, continuing his words.
"That is if demons don't arrive as well. They might contest the Pygmies after Bent is gone, but until then, they will ally against us. Too many are scared of Vincent's coming actions. They are fearful of what Marshall will do at the end of his life. Can you imagine their despair against the Prime?"
I give Virgil a quick hug and shake Bonfire's hand as we greet each other, and Tomas tells them what's happening. But before he can get far into his words, a duo of magenta-fettered Pygmies steps onto the street ruined by Azra's Ordnance. An annoyed voice comes from the female on the right.
"Ah, I knew there would be some here. Azra sure is something..."
Seeing them, I react instantly, not waiting a moment. If this isn't an emergency, I don't know what is.
The Bloomy Spider Lily blossoms from my holster, the barrel pointing right at the speaking Pygmy. All I see before I pull the trigger is her raise her eyebrows and a hand.
Then, a stream of darkness covers us, the chilly sensation dying the world black for a moment as I feel all my pain fade away and a joyful voice in my ear.
"Thanks! But, uh... she's not dead yet. I'm not that good, y'know?"
The Cardinal vanishes from my sight to reveal the Pygmy collapsing to the floor like an old woman, her flesh mottled and sunken as the other leans to help her. Meanwhile, I feel a hollowness in my body, the price for a bullet from Lily.
I don't know how bad it is, but I'll have to see later as the other Angel is real, real angry, literal flames exuding from his nodes.
