Clenching my left fist, I fill it with the Ether of my Strugglers Gasp. Then, pause for a moment before quickly prodding the Bloody Palm for help. The artifact replies with a low growl as the flesh and bone of my arm twist and contorts into a blade.
We don't need to do this in the hardest possible way. Breaking open the hatch is dumber than just cutting the locks.
Hone covers the edges of the bone blade as Earl scoots back before tossing a bottle out of the cubby, the crash causing a green flame to rise. I barely pay attention to his efforts to slow Sequester as a Silhouette departs from Virgil as well to harry the Nahullo.
Then, gritting my teeth, I fling a Detonation of a quarter of Strugglers Gasp into my Boneblade and strike the first lock with utmost force. The first lock shatters with a satisfying crack when I apply pressure and explode my Ether outward. A rush of adrenaline surges through me as I move swiftly to the next lock. This one is partially melted, and my blade slices through it effortlessly without even using Detonation, the metal yielding to my bone weapon.
The following three locks fall before me, each snapping open under my blade's force, empowered by a swift Detonation. The sound of metal breaking echoes through the cubby under the falling bookshelf as outside Sequester dominates Abraham's Nightmares, Virgil's Silhouette, and Earl's creations.
And with a grunt, as the last of my gasp dissipates into my arm, the blade pierces the final lock, and it, too, crumbles under the force. The iron latch then creaks open, revealing darkness below. Squinting, I can make out the rough geometry of a tunnel using my sight of chains, the many fetters coalescing into a hallway.
I glance at Earl before yanking him toward the hatch, and pulling him in with a yell.
"Follow me!"
I risk going in first, but I can't gamble on Sequester getting too close, no matter how lucky Earl is. A powerful strike from him might just kill Earl with our help, so as I fall inside, I wrap my arms around Earl in case of any traps. But as we thump against the cold floor below, nothing happens. Awkwardly, I remove myself from Earl as he scoffs and retrieves a glass bottle from his bag.
With a shake of it as Bonfire, Abraham, and Virgil fall behind us, the bottle glows brilliantly, revealing the entirety of the hallway. Earl hands each of us one as he retrieves multiple, then throws some kind of net upward that hooks onto the open hatch. Seeing he's leaving a trap, I shift my attention onward. And as I peer forward, Virgil speaks, the man limping beside me. Damn. He must have gotten hit by something good to walk like that.
"Sequester is on our tail. My Silhouette won't contain him much longer, even with Earl's Wetfire. Lead us and let Earl guide."
Nodding, I lead the four through the dimly lit underground passageway, the air thick with the scent of steam. And as we walk forward, the soft glow of newly emerging flickering lights casts irregular shadows on the walls. The narrow corridor is lined with hissing pipes, releasing vapor clouds as we tread cautiously, our footsteps barely audible amidst the gentle clicking of shifting gears.
I shift the Bloody Palm back into a hand as I retrieve the blade from the outer part of my right forearm, preparing it in case anything jumps out at us like those Mannequins. But as we step forward, letting Earl gauge every object we pass, from rotating gears to expunging pipes, I hear bangs and clashes from the battles above. Virgil has a hand on my back, and when his Silhouette is ruined, he'll let me know so I have some confidence in moving forward.
The lair of Eli Weiss is a thing of madness, a labyrinth of mystery, and we move cautiously, knowing that danger lurks around every corner. The walls seem to close around us, the metallic surfaces reflecting the dim light in a disorienting dance of shadows. Peeking around an edge, I find the tunnel continuing as it heads lower into the ground. I wave my fingers forward as we move onward some more. My fleshy hand is sweaty and leaves lines on the wall as I step from the grime on it.
Our footsteps echo through the corridor, and my heart beats in tandem with the rhythmic clicking of the gears. I glance back at my Earl as I come across a fork in the passage, and uncertainty lingers in his eyes. Both directions, left and right, appear identical as lights, brighter than previous, flicker curiously in the distance. I watch him examine the two paths as the signs above are written in some language utterly unknown to me.
He then speaks up, offering advice on which path to tread as he points to the left.
"He has words written in Morrel's Code. Perhaps the Mannequins are supposed to read it? I'm unsure, but the left says 'Development,' and the right says 'Experimentation Rooms.' Probably best if we go left. Who knows what deadly experiments he has."
I nod to him as I pivot to the left, heeding his words. The flickering lights create a strange ambiance, making it difficult to discern what lies ahead, but my sight of chains makes me sure whether living creatures are in the way or not. However, it is all up to Earl to spot any traps. But we press on, guided by our intuition and the hope of discovering the secret laboratory that holds the key to many things. Why else would so many be here if this place wasn't so important? Maybe that's why Johnny didn't order a retreat. Or perhaps we just didn't have time.
With each step, we are drawn deeper into the heart of the passageway, the steaming pipes hissing ominously like a serpent ready to strike. With the Bloody Palm, I grip the hilt of my revolver tightly, my senses heightened as I brace for any surprises that may lie ahead. Who knows, Eli just be waiting for us down here. I don't think Lily will kill him, but she might weaken him enough for us to escape if he is.
As we venture further, the air becomes even thicker with steam, gradually closing off my sight of chains from my Metamorphosis, and I can feel the oppressive weight of the underground world closing in on us. Earl whispers to us all as we pause and listen. While he speaks, Virgil taps my shoulder with a nod. Sequester is coming.
"Crouch down. The steam is hot and will rise. The lower we are, the better we'll see."
We follow his orders and crouch, moving closer to the ground as the air is a bit clearer there, allowing for better sight. But as we move in this way, my heart continues to pound, just waiting for Sequester to find us or for a trap. The shifting gears create a symphony of mechanical sounds, and the soft clicks and clinks add to the disconcerting atmosphere. It is a symphony of mystery and danger, a symphony that only Earl can ascertain the meaning of.
Anticipation rapidly builds until a noise breaks the silence. But to my luck, it is Earl.
"Stop! There is a trap there! Look, the floor is slightly raised in the center, waiting for the pressure of a body. Go around it carefully."
Heeding his directions, I climb over it without touching it, but before I have time to recover, he whispers again.
"Careful! Right!"
Earl finds another trap upon the right wall, hidden grooves that would set off a hidden mechanism. I'm unsure how they would activate, but Earl has us crawl underneath them.
"I think those are pressure sensors of some kind. The slight holes in the wall are way too suspicious. Move slowly without sudden movements."
Next, he spots a most devious trap. Only a few steps through the hallway from the last, Earl suddenly stops us in our tracks, his eyes fixated on the ceiling above. There, hanging in the steaming vents, are a series of thin wires connected to small glass vials filled with a mysterious liquid. One wrong move and the vials will shatter, releasing whatever their hazardous contents are.
"Those... Hmm..."
Earl thinks momentarily as we all pause and look to him for how to get around it. He figures it out shortly.
"Cut the wires with your arm, Wyatt. A latch near your elbow will let it extend further. Virgil, catch the vials."
Earl's quick thinking saves us as Virgil and I work in tandem to disarm the trap. Then, Earl resets the surprise as we pass it by with a mechanism of his own, placing it in wait for Sequester.
The journey through the foggy tunnels continues, and Earl's expertise astounds me as usual. He uncovers hidden pitfalls, concealed spikes, and even a trapdoor leading to a bottomless pit beneath the floor. The combination of his danger sense type of skill and his sharp wit keep us from danger while simultaneously slowing Sequester down behind us.
And as we pass a series of pipes that have dangerous needles hidden within, prepared to fire at any time, I hear a bellow echo from behind, the voice having a harsh Enlish accent.
"Fucking traps! Come here, you little shits! I can't wait to show your pops how useless you are, Ahbram! I didn't know you were here, but I'm so glad you are!"
He must have run into the vials. Good. Hopefully, he's weakened before he catches up to us. I glance at Abraham beside me, and he simply shrugs.
"Sequester is confidently arrogant. We have to be careful of his gales and his blade. Both are evenly precarious. Though, I don't know what his Power is."
Coughing, I wave away some steam as we approach a closed steel door, a vault-like handle keeping it closed. Earl steps up to it and hauls a large jar from his backpack, something that had to have taken up most of the space. Then, he takes out goggles and a mask that he arranges on his face. I raise an eyebrow before he explains.
"I knew we were going underground, so I skipped out on explosives. But... acids do release deadly gasses when working, so hold your breaths and close your eyes until it's done. Your goggles should be fine, though, Virgil. If Sequester shows up before I get through, he'll be fighting blind, too."
We all shift aside for Earl to work as I turn to Virgil. The area before the steel door is large enough to hold us all comfortably, but I'm not looking forward to a battle should Sequester arrive. And so, I attempt to speed things up.
"Can't you just Flicker through, Virgil?"
The older man shrugs, pointing to the thick steel.
"Already tried. I got about halfway through with my arm until Ether stopped me. Eli must have the whole innard coursing with something inside. Perhaps an Arca? Or maybe it's even him. Who knows. But those Mannequins up top were terrifying. Something able to fight head-to-head with an Angel? I didn't know Eli was THAT good at creation. Even the Cabled Marionettist of the Pygmies has to command her Mannequin in combat."
I shrug as an acrid smell enters the steamy air, prompting me to hold my breath and close my eyes. If I need, I could probably Daydream and open them, but I'll play it safe for now. Squelches and screeching steel fills our tiny area as Bonfire and Abraham whisper to each and Sequester runs rampantly toward us. The Nahullo's movements are clear to us from here, and we hear every trap he hits and slows down on. But he only gets closer and closer.
Almost a full minute passes before Earl's voice fills the air.
"We're good! The handle is melted through! Come here and pull it open, Wyatt!"
Standing, I stride toward him as a nearby trap goes off, one only a little away that is followed by a scream.
"Don't you dare take the Fabricator! I will eat you alive, Ahbram!"
The Fabricator? What's that?
*****************************
Johnny "Iron Consul" Caldwell
Stumbling backward, I pivot and cover for Blake with a swing of Fate Sealer, deflecting a rapid arrow fired by Mislo that lacks power. The only female Councilmember, besides the Viceray, of course, is skilled, yet she is being overwhelmed by Blake and me while Clarence and the Mannequins fight the invading Motherbound.
My wrist throbs in pain while I Glitch Fate Sealer, reloading the rounds fired a fraction of a second ago and removing the minor dent from the arrow's impact. I'm teetering on escaping without anything, but the other group already found the way to the lab. And so, I must stay. Blake, beside me, teeters on the edge of a collapsed desk, the one end still up, as she gasps for air. Raising Undead to fight for her is taxing, especially when she enhances them with her own Vigor and spirits.
But they are essential against Mislo, forcing her to shoot arrow after arrow at anything that is not us. Though I do feel bad for the Undead, she's pulling from the Underworld, only to die under her control once more.
Lifting my Colt again, I take aim, readying a Trueshot, empowered by my Ether—the iron sight levels upon Mislo as she, too, aims at me. Focusing, I prep my shot by clicking my tongue, bursting air out of my mouth as I practice Marshall's technique. The motions help me form my Ether for Living Strand,
I don't quite have the plasmic stage of Ether done yet, but just recently, I finally managed Living Strand. The only bad part is that, though I managed to use Excavator for the first time, my left eye is still recovering from imbuing a complete Golden Eye into my skeleton.
And as Mislo releases a sextuplet of arrows toward me, kicking away a 5th Sigiled Undead as she jumps into the air and shoots, I force my Ether into my six bullets. Then I slam the hammer with my left hand as I believe my shots will meet her arrows.
Living Strand is all about belief, faith, or confidence, however, one wants to say it. It took me a while to figure it all out, but I have absolute faith in my bullets. Faithful Lead curves each poundage of metal through the air by a stretching thin string of Ether, held only by faith, as they hone in on Mislo's arrows. Both series of projectiles move so fast that the only reason I can even react is my duo of Metamorphosises on my eyes, permanently dying them gold.
Mislo attempts to move her arrows in flight, likely doing something similar to me, but she's not quick enough. She evades only half her projectiles, and I ruin the other three. But I'm still not done.
Gritting my teeth, I force Faithful Lead to the max, ripping the steel with uncontested confidence as I Glitch my ruined bullets falling to the ground. Then, my avoided shots twist around in a complete one-eighty before slamming into the sides of the arrows before they reach us.
The other three that I Glitched continue onward without an arrow in their path and strike Mislo with a triplet of blooming bloody flowers. Finally, I broke through her armor. The steel carcasses of the Councilmen are older than even their table, forged by a lengthy family of Craftsmen from the Frozen Wastes that will only make armor. Each is a Bulwark, built to last against even Angels.
And Mislo plays no games.
The pale woman flips backward dextrously in her armor before landing on a knee as I realize she consolidated the damage to her lower abdomen. Meanwhile, I reload again, my vision beginning to darken. Blake commands her Undead forward, the lady gradually recovering her stamina from the crashing books and her emerging Power. I prepare to fire again, but Mislo grunts out a sentence, batting away Undead with a forceful shove from her bow.
"We need not fight, Johnny. I have no quarrel with you, and I only seek the Fabricator that lies below. The Viceroy has sent us to retrieve this and leave. Is there any way this may come about?"
Her words immediately fuel the simmering rage hidden in my core, and I spit onto the library's ruined floor in defiance.
"No, you albino whore. You and yours killed my best friend alongside Blightraven. How could I ever ally with you?"
Mislo coughs and half-laughs before refuting me.
"Perhaps we did. But think about the grander scale. Outside are two Fallen and their Manipulator that commands them. One of the Fallen is Nahullo. The other? A Urayuli. Not to mention that ungodly thing that lives without breath or Eli's pawn. At least you can think for yourself. Sure, we killed a friend of yours. But... what is your goal? Will fighting me accomplish that? Or will killing your true enemies and retrieving what you need from below? I assume you are here for something as valuable as we are."
Scoffing at her arrogance and ignorance, I raise Fate Sealer again toward her face. I don't know what they are here for, and frankly, I don't know why I'm here either. Originally it was for Earl, but something here just doesn't feel right. This whole town is ruined. I have to do something. Mislo scowls in response, part of her helmet shattered from Lennon's strike earlier. Now the madman fights against that Urayuli outside, clambering up it like the world's greatest monster slayer.
My vision darkens some more as I prevent Lennon from being squashed with Glitch. Perhaps he could have survived. Perhaps not. I'd rather him kill that thing than die, however. Then, I focus entirely on Mislo as she tears through the Undead around her with the blades on the end of her great bow.
Ether swirls again into my bullets as I quicken my hands with Fanfire. Then, I unsheathe Blackburn, the 6th Flamme bastard sword that Marshall gifted me. Its blade cuts through nearly anything and with just a little Ether...
It combusts into dark fire, a fire that can only be doused when bone touches it. The sword hangs in my left hand as I step toward Blake, motioning her to step back. Shooting from far away works less and less the stronger I get. Now, I almost always have to get close. At least I'm good with a sword.
The Nahullo across from me has short daggers extending from her bow as she slices, evades, and carves her way through the many Undead. And not one of them is weak, each having at least two Sigils, but she treats them all like children. I address her as I begin to move forward, Accelerate carrying me onward.
"I have no enemies, Mislo. I have only people who must die. And you? You are one of them."
Clenching my left fist, I fill it with the Ether of my Strugglers Gasp. Then, pause for a moment before quickly prodding the Bloody Palm for help. The artifact replies with a low growl as the flesh and bone of my arm twist and contorts into a blade.
We don't need to do this in the hardest possible way. Breaking open the hatch is dumber than just cutting the locks.
Hone covers the edges of the bone blade as Earl scoots back before tossing a bottle out of the cubby, the crash causing a green flame to rise. I barely pay attention to his efforts to slow Sequester as a Silhouette departs from Virgil as well to harry the Nahullo.
Then, gritting my teeth, I fling a Detonation of a quarter of Strugglers Gasp into my Boneblade and strike the first lock with utmost force. The first lock shatters with a satisfying crack when I apply pressure and explode my Ether outward. A rush of adrenaline surges through me as I move swiftly to the next lock. This one is partially melted, and my blade slices through it effortlessly without even using Detonation, the metal yielding to my bone weapon.
The following three locks fall before me, each snapping open under my blade's force, empowered by a swift Detonation. The sound of metal breaking echoes through the cubby under the falling bookshelf as outside Sequester dominates Abraham's Nightmares, Virgil's Silhouette, and Earl's creations.
And with a grunt, as the last of my gasp dissipates into my arm, the blade pierces the final lock, and it, too, crumbles under the force. The iron latch then creaks open, revealing darkness below. Squinting, I can make out the rough geometry of a tunnel using my sight of chains, the many fetters coalescing into a hallway.
I glance at Earl before yanking him toward the hatch, and pulling him in with a yell.
"Follow me!"
I risk going in first, but I can't gamble on Sequester getting too close, no matter how lucky Earl is. A powerful strike from him might just kill Earl with our help, so as I fall inside, I wrap my arms around Earl in case of any traps. But as we thump against the cold floor below, nothing happens. Awkwardly, I remove myself from Earl as he scoffs and retrieves a glass bottle from his bag.
With a shake of it as Bonfire, Abraham, and Virgil fall behind us, the bottle glows brilliantly, revealing the entirety of the hallway. Earl hands each of us one as he retrieves multiple, then throws some kind of net upward that hooks onto the open hatch. Seeing he's leaving a trap, I shift my attention onward. And as I peer forward, Virgil speaks, the man limping beside me. Damn. He must have gotten hit by something good to walk like that.
"Sequester is on our tail. My Silhouette won't contain him much longer, even with Earl's Wetfire. Lead us and let Earl guide."
Nodding, I lead the four through the dimly lit underground passageway, the air thick with the scent of steam. And as we walk forward, the soft glow of newly emerging flickering lights casts irregular shadows on the walls. The narrow corridor is lined with hissing pipes, releasing vapor clouds as we tread cautiously, our footsteps barely audible amidst the gentle clicking of shifting gears.
I shift the Bloody Palm back into a hand as I retrieve the blade from the outer part of my right forearm, preparing it in case anything jumps out at us like those Mannequins. But as we step forward, letting Earl gauge every object we pass, from rotating gears to expunging pipes, I hear bangs and clashes from the battles above. Virgil has a hand on my back, and when his Silhouette is ruined, he'll let me know so I have some confidence in moving forward.
The lair of Eli Weiss is a thing of madness, a labyrinth of mystery, and we move cautiously, knowing that danger lurks around every corner. The walls seem to close around us, the metallic surfaces reflecting the dim light in a disorienting dance of shadows. Peeking around an edge, I find the tunnel continuing as it heads lower into the ground. I wave my fingers forward as we move onward some more. My fleshy hand is sweaty and leaves lines on the wall as I step from the grime on it.
Our footsteps echo through the corridor, and my heart beats in tandem with the rhythmic clicking of the gears. I glance back at my Earl as I come across a fork in the passage, and uncertainty lingers in his eyes. Both directions, left and right, appear identical as lights, brighter than previous, flicker curiously in the distance. I watch him examine the two paths as the signs above are written in some language utterly unknown to me.
He then speaks up, offering advice on which path to tread as he points to the left.
"He has words written in Morrel's Code. Perhaps the Mannequins are supposed to read it? I'm unsure, but the left says 'Development,' and the right says 'Experimentation Rooms.' Probably best if we go left. Who knows what deadly experiments he has."
I nod to him as I pivot to the left, heeding his words. The flickering lights create a strange ambiance, making it difficult to discern what lies ahead, but my sight of chains makes me sure whether living creatures are in the way or not. However, it is all up to Earl to spot any traps. But we press on, guided by our intuition and the hope of discovering the secret laboratory that holds the key to many things. Why else would so many be here if this place wasn't so important? Maybe that's why Johnny didn't order a retreat. Or perhaps we just didn't have time.
With each step, we are drawn deeper into the heart of the passageway, the steaming pipes hissing ominously like a serpent ready to strike. With the Bloody Palm, I grip the hilt of my revolver tightly, my senses heightened as I brace for any surprises that may lie ahead. Who knows, Eli just be waiting for us down here. I don't think Lily will kill him, but she might weaken him enough for us to escape if he is.
As we venture further, the air becomes even thicker with steam, gradually closing off my sight of chains from my Metamorphosis, and I can feel the oppressive weight of the underground world closing in on us. Earl whispers to us all as we pause and listen. While he speaks, Virgil taps my shoulder with a nod. Sequester is coming.
"Crouch down. The steam is hot and will rise. The lower we are, the better we'll see."
We follow his orders and crouch, moving closer to the ground as the air is a bit clearer there, allowing for better sight. But as we move in this way, my heart continues to pound, just waiting for Sequester to find us or for a trap. The shifting gears create a symphony of mechanical sounds, and the soft clicks and clinks add to the disconcerting atmosphere. It is a symphony of mystery and danger, a symphony that only Earl can ascertain the meaning of.
Anticipation rapidly builds until a noise breaks the silence. But to my luck, it is Earl.
"Stop! There is a trap there! Look, the floor is slightly raised in the center, waiting for the pressure of a body. Go around it carefully."
Heeding his directions, I climb over it without touching it, but before I have time to recover, he whispers again.
"Careful! Right!"
Earl finds another trap upon the right wall, hidden grooves that would set off a hidden mechanism. I'm unsure how they would activate, but Earl has us crawl underneath them.
"I think those are pressure sensors of some kind. The slight holes in the wall are way too suspicious. Move slowly without sudden movements."
Next, he spots a most devious trap. Only a few steps through the hallway from the last, Earl suddenly stops us in our tracks, his eyes fixated on the ceiling above. There, hanging in the steaming vents, are a series of thin wires connected to small glass vials filled with a mysterious liquid. One wrong move and the vials will shatter, releasing whatever their hazardous contents are.
"Those... Hmm..."
Earl thinks momentarily as we all pause and look to him for how to get around it. He figures it out shortly.
"Cut the wires with your arm, Wyatt. A latch near your elbow will let it extend further. Virgil, catch the vials."
Earl's quick thinking saves us as Virgil and I work in tandem to disarm the trap. Then, Earl resets the surprise as we pass it by with a mechanism of his own, placing it in wait for Sequester.
The journey through the foggy tunnels continues, and Earl's expertise astounds me as usual. He uncovers hidden pitfalls, concealed spikes, and even a trapdoor leading to a bottomless pit beneath the floor. The combination of his danger sense type of skill and his sharp wit keep us from danger while simultaneously slowing Sequester down behind us.
And as we pass a series of pipes that have dangerous needles hidden within, prepared to fire at any time, I hear a bellow echo from behind, the voice having a harsh Enlish accent.
"Fucking traps! Come here, you little shits! I can't wait to show your pops how useless you are, Ahbram! I didn't know you were here, but I'm so glad you are!"
He must have run into the vials. Good. Hopefully, he's weakened before he catches up to us. I glance at Abraham beside me, and he simply shrugs.
"Sequester is confidently arrogant. We have to be careful of his gales and his blade. Both are evenly precarious. Though, I don't know what his Power is."
Coughing, I wave away some steam as we approach a closed steel door, a vault-like handle keeping it closed. Earl steps up to it and hauls a large jar from his backpack, something that had to have taken up most of the space. Then, he takes out goggles and a mask that he arranges on his face. I raise an eyebrow before he explains.
"I knew we were going underground, so I skipped out on explosives. But... acids do release deadly gasses when working, so hold your breaths and close your eyes until it's done. Your goggles should be fine, though, Virgil. If Sequester shows up before I get through, he'll be fighting blind, too."
We all shift aside for Earl to work as I turn to Virgil. The area before the steel door is large enough to hold us all comfortably, but I'm not looking forward to a battle should Sequester arrive. And so, I attempt to speed things up.
"Can't you just Flicker through, Virgil?"
The older man shrugs, pointing to the thick steel.
"Already tried. I got about halfway through with my arm until Ether stopped me. Eli must have the whole innard coursing with something inside. Perhaps an Arca? Or maybe it's even him. Who knows. But those Mannequins up top were terrifying. Something able to fight head-to-head with an Angel? I didn't know Eli was THAT good at creation. Even the Cabled Marionettist of the Pygmies has to command her Mannequin in combat."
I shrug as an acrid smell enters the steamy air, prompting me to hold my breath and close my eyes. If I need, I could probably Daydream and open them, but I'll play it safe for now. Squelches and screeching steel fills our tiny area as Bonfire and Abraham whisper to each and Sequester runs rampantly toward us. The Nahullo's movements are clear to us from here, and we hear every trap he hits and slows down on. But he only gets closer and closer.
Almost a full minute passes before Earl's voice fills the air.
"We're good! The handle is melted through! Come here and pull it open, Wyatt!"
Standing, I stride toward him as a nearby trap goes off, one only a little away that is followed by a scream.
"Don't you dare take the Fabricator! I will eat you alive, Ahbram!"
The Fabricator? What's that?
*****************************
Johnny "Iron Consul" Caldwell
Stumbling backward, I pivot and cover for Blake with a swing of Fate Sealer, deflecting a rapid arrow fired by Mislo that lacks power. The only female Councilmember, besides the Viceray, of course, is skilled, yet she is being overwhelmed by Blake and me while Clarence and the Mannequins fight the invading Motherbound.
My wrist throbs in pain while I Glitch Fate Sealer, reloading the rounds fired a fraction of a second ago and removing the minor dent from the arrow's impact. I'm teetering on escaping without anything, but the other group already found the way to the lab. And so, I must stay. Blake, beside me, teeters on the edge of a collapsed desk, the one end still up, as she gasps for air. Raising Undead to fight for her is taxing, especially when she enhances them with her own Vigor and spirits.
But they are essential against Mislo, forcing her to shoot arrow after arrow at anything that is not us. Though I do feel bad for the Undead, she's pulling from the Underworld, only to die under her control once more.
Lifting my Colt again, I take aim, readying a Trueshot, empowered by my Ether—the iron sight levels upon Mislo as she, too, aims at me. Focusing, I prep my shot by clicking my tongue, bursting air out of my mouth as I practice Marshall's technique. The motions help me form my Ether for Living Strand,
I don't quite have the plasmic stage of Ether done yet, but just recently, I finally managed Living Strand. The only bad part is that, though I managed to use Excavator for the first time, my left eye is still recovering from imbuing a complete Golden Eye into my skeleton.
And as Mislo releases a sextuplet of arrows toward me, kicking away a 5th Sigiled Undead as she jumps into the air and shoots, I force my Ether into my six bullets. Then I slam the hammer with my left hand as I believe my shots will meet her arrows.
Living Strand is all about belief, faith, or confidence, however, one wants to say it. It took me a while to figure it all out, but I have absolute faith in my bullets. Faithful Lead curves each poundage of metal through the air by a stretching thin string of Ether, held only by faith, as they hone in on Mislo's arrows. Both series of projectiles move so fast that the only reason I can even react is my duo of Metamorphosises on my eyes, permanently dying them gold.
Mislo attempts to move her arrows in flight, likely doing something similar to me, but she's not quick enough. She evades only half her projectiles, and I ruin the other three. But I'm still not done.
Gritting my teeth, I force Faithful Lead to the max, ripping the steel with uncontested confidence as I Glitch my ruined bullets falling to the ground. Then, my avoided shots twist around in a complete one-eighty before slamming into the sides of the arrows before they reach us.
The other three that I Glitched continue onward without an arrow in their path and strike Mislo with a triplet of blooming bloody flowers. Finally, I broke through her armor. The steel carcasses of the Councilmen are older than even their table, forged by a lengthy family of Craftsmen from the Frozen Wastes that will only make armor. Each is a Bulwark, built to last against even Angels.
And Mislo plays no games.
The pale woman flips backward dextrously in her armor before landing on a knee as I realize she consolidated the damage to her lower abdomen. Meanwhile, I reload again, my vision beginning to darken. Blake commands her Undead forward, the lady gradually recovering her stamina from the crashing books and her emerging Power. I prepare to fire again, but Mislo grunts out a sentence, batting away Undead with a forceful shove from her bow.
"We need not fight, Johnny. I have no quarrel with you, and I only seek the Fabricator that lies below. The Viceroy has sent us to retrieve this and leave. Is there any way this may come about?"
Her words immediately fuel the simmering rage hidden in my core, and I spit onto the library's ruined floor in defiance.
"No, you albino whore. You and yours killed my best friend alongside Blightraven. How could I ever ally with you?"
Mislo coughs and half-laughs before refuting me.
"Perhaps we did. But think about the grander scale. Outside are two Fallen and their Manipulator that commands them. One of the Fallen is Nahullo. The other? A Urayuli. Not to mention that ungodly thing that lives without breath or Eli's pawn. At least you can think for yourself. Sure, we killed a friend of yours. But... what is your goal? Will fighting me accomplish that? Or will killing your true enemies and retrieving what you need from below? I assume you are here for something as valuable as we are."
Scoffing at her arrogance and ignorance, I raise Fate Sealer again toward her face. I don't know what they are here for, and frankly, I don't know why I'm here either. Originally it was for Earl, but something here just doesn't feel right. This whole town is ruined. I have to do something. Mislo scowls in response, part of her helmet shattered from Lennon's strike earlier. Now the madman fights against that Urayuli outside, clambering up it like the world's greatest monster slayer.
My vision darkens some more as I prevent Lennon from being squashed with Glitch. Perhaps he could have survived. Perhaps not. I'd rather him kill that thing than die, however. Then, I focus entirely on Mislo as she tears through the Undead around her with the blades on the end of her great bow.
Ether swirls again into my bullets as I quicken my hands with Fanfire. Then, I unsheathe Blackburn, the 6th Flamme bastard sword that Marshall gifted me. Its blade cuts through nearly anything and with just a little Ether...
It combusts into dark fire, a fire that can only be doused when bone touches it. The sword hangs in my left hand as I step toward Blake, motioning her to step back. Shooting from far away works less and less the stronger I get. Now, I almost always have to get close. At least I'm good with a sword.
The Nahullo across from me has short daggers extending from her bow as she slices, evades, and carves her way through the many Undead. And not one of them is weak, each having at least two Sigils, but she treats them all like children. I address her as I begin to move forward, Accelerate carrying me onward.
"I have no enemies, Mislo. I have only people who must die. And you? You are one of them."
