I find myself seated at a weathered table, the air thick with the palpable tension of wary gazes. Before me sits a trio—a seasoned gunslinger, a muscular old man marked by a litany of scars, and a woman, her grip firm on the blade she bears at her hip. As my eyes meet theirs, a faint smile curls upon the lips of the gunman.
"Glad to see you alive, Wyatt. Bonfire..."
The penetrating stares of the other two hold my attention—the old man with his cane and his deep violet fetters. He doesn't stare at me, however. Suspicion hangs in the air as their eyes interrogate Bonfire.
I push to speak for the man, but Canyon, the 'king' of Gravecross, makes his move first. His tone holds zero room for negotiation.
"I do not want a thing like him in here. Leave. Now. Or I will make you."
Bonfire's gaze settles upon Canyon and Laura, but I place my hand on his shoulder. I whisper into his ear while Johnny does the same to Canyon.
"Be peaceful. We can't get wrapped up here in a fight, especially not against our own friends. We left Dakota and Elizabeth in Kingstown two days ago, remember?"
Reason gradually refills Emmett's eyes. I nod to the development and open my mouth to Canyon. I won't let him speak to Bonfire like that. He's been through too much. He's saved my life, sacrificing his own future alongside that of his close friends—of our friends.
Some old bastard who has sat on his spoils for decades without doing a damned thing can go to Hell. I'll keep it peaceful, but I'll be sure to let this fucker know he can't command us.
"I am sure you know who I am, Furious Mountain. You cannot tell me or Bonfire what to do. We came here to speak to our friends before shortly leaving. I only obeyed your summons to be kind. Whether you allow us or not, we will be here. There is nothing you can do to stop us other than striking us yourself. Though... I highly doubt you would like that to happen within the hearth of your city."
I stake my bluff with my eyes focused on Canyon. If this old man wants to be an asshole, I'll play along. Johnny glares at me with a warning, but I ignore him.
I'm not that little kid anymore. I'm an Angel just like him, and so is Bonfire. Our words hold meaning, as do our actions. I haven't gone all out yet with my new strengths, but just the fact Bonfire and I traversed an entire Territory and climbed Gravecross in less than two days is enough for me to know we aren't weak. It makes sense to me how Pillars were able to traverse the Territories so quickly if their speeds are even close to ours.
"You... heh... You Graves are always so damned narcissistic. He may stay, but... unless you wish for me to hunt you down, keep the Eventide in check."
Johnny's eyes fall to the floor as he hears the sentencing of Bonfire. The truth of why we are having this conversation is the ticking time bomb that my friend is. None of us know how long he'll last. Though, if I were to guess, he would hold on until we find Abraham.
Any less, and I don't think he'd ever forgive himself, even the converted version of him.
I nod to Canyon as I then shift my focus to Johnny, not wanting to deal with the old coward any longer. So much less suffering would have occurred had a Virtue like him done something other than sit in his ivory estate.
He's hardly any better than the actual Estates.
"Johnny. Bonfire and I will join Maddox in his attack on Onyx Gate. Now, let me finish. I'm not going to simply ride along with him like I have done for you. We will be on our own, taking advantage of the chaos to kill Eli and take the Gate Of Death into the Underworld. There, we will head towards Hell across No Man's Land and find both my father and, hopefully, Abraham as well. It's a long story, but he's there..."
I continue on my rant, detailing why we are going there and how. Channeling an aspect of Edmund, I rant for a while as everyone in this room with me listens silently. Canyon and Laura, however, leave partway through, finding something else to do instead of listening to me. I tell Johnny that he doesn't have to join. He doesn't even have to feel obligated. I...
"You have done enough for me, Johnny. I've seen that you've stayed here. If that is what you wish, then feel no pressure. Thank you for everything, even if it all started rocky at best. Bonfire and I, with Elizabeth, will do everything possible to take down Eli."
Johnny's head bobs sadly at my words as I can see him inhale a profoundly deep breath. The man seems to age several years in only a moment as he clasps his fingers together to answer me.
"You have to be careful with that girl, Wyatt. She's... the deaths have changed her. She wants a war to strengthen everyone—a civil war, and it would appear she is getting what she wants. But... I do not think I can join you in this. So many have died. I've... I've lost so many. And this place is safe—safer than any I've ever known. I can't uproot them or leave them."
My head also sinks at his words while Bonfire simmers quietly beside me. I know he's already had his spats with Johnny, but the man is holding himself back for me.
Johnny is a man I respect so deeply that I cannot blame him for doing this. All the time I've ever known him, he's wanted to change how things are done, shake the world at the top. And while he might not have done it himself, it has happened. The Estates hold far less control than they ever did. They are also about to be busy fighting a civil war against Maddox. This news, if anything, must be music to Johnny's ears, even if it hurts to hear.
Gravecross has always been at odds with the Estates, along with a fragile balance hinged upon the lifespan of Canyon Cift. Yet... with the current events... this place may just be able to become genuinely independent with Johnny's help. He's a leader to hundreds first, my friend second.
"I won't blame you, Johnny. You've done it. You've found us a home. I'm only sorry I can't enjoy it with you."
The Iron Consul raises his eyes to meet me again, this time with a great grin to match the solemness. He scans me with those golden pupils, finding something that he very much enjoys seeing.
"I'm proud of you. If this is our final goodbye, I want you to know that. I knew you were special when I first met you, but not precisely how special. If I could turn back time... I'd never have made you a Deadman. I'd have given you every morsel of strength I could have just as I did for Earl. But none can truly see the future. We can only feel our way through."
I shake my head at the man's regrets, standing and striding over to him. Then, I wrap my arm around the man as he gets up as well.
"It's in the past. I'm here now, aren't I? Just keep all these people safe. I mean it. Keep Earl safe. Don't ever let him stop changing the world. Let the Bado grow into a new population. Let Lennox live out his life. Let Blake... you better make her happy."
Johnny smiles back at me before the hug ends. And as it does, he shoves a book into my hand.
It is titled Excavator, penned by a man named Louis Fern.
"This is my gift to you. A skill, a Dzil, made by a Supreme from the Underworld. Take it. Learn it. Add another weapon to your growing arsenal. I am positive it will be something you will use."
Johnny then grabs my shoulder, glancing at Bonfire as well. The man's words leave his mouth with genuine care, even at the troublemaker behind me.
"I wish the both of you success. I... you are right. I cannot join you, even if it pains me. But all journeys must have an end. I have fought and destroyed for nearly all my life. I think it is about time I start building. I have decided to place my faith in Vincent and in you all. I might sound cowardly, but I know I don't have a place in the battles of Virtues and Dominions, let alone Gods. I'm just a man who has broken his limits once. I doubt it'll happen again. I'm no Lennon. I'm no you."
Johnny then steps away from me, heading toward the door, opening it while gesturing for us to leave.
"Yet, you'd be crazy if you thought Earl would just let you leave. I'd be surprised if he doesn't come along with you. I never have and will never force him to do anything. Hell would have to freeze for me to hold down his mind. Go see him. I heard he was making something for you while you were gone."
Earl made me something? Was he that sure I was alive?
"What did he make?"
I can't stop myself from inquiring, but Johnny only chuckles. Patting me on the back again, he pushes me lightly into the street.
"If I were to name someone with more confidence in you than Earl, I'd be lying. The kid practically sees you as an undying monster that can fix anything. He puts himself up to such a standard that he has to save that monster. If I hadn't seen you at your worst... I'd have to agree with him. It is hard to find friends with such... loyalty. They are closer than any family could ever be. Remember that."
The laughing from the gunslinger ceases as he ends his words with a profound grimness, sliding a note into my hand. Then, he strides away with a wave, sending Bonfire and my farewell.
"Don't see me again before you leave. I may not have the will to stay."
I smile at his words, knowing the truth. He wants to join, but he knows better. Someone has to protect those here. Johnny has always been a guardian, not a war-seeker. I'm happy he found his place.
My feet then carry Bonfire and me to where the note Johnny gave us indicates. Following street signs, we quickly wander to a smoky-smelling building with incessant clangs within.
We step through the front door to find a workshop filled with a dozen blacksmiths striking metal, while along the sides are Coltsmiths putting together weapons.
I raise an eyebrow at the sight and stand in confusion for a few seconds until a familiar voice shouts at me.
"Wyatt!? Wyatt!"
Earl comes sprinting toward us, tailed by Primrose's ever-so-smug face. My friend slams me with a hug as the lady behind him smiles with a wave.
"I'm so glad you're okay! Thank you, Bonfire! Hey, I knew you'd break your arm! How'd you do it this time!?"
Earl then rapidly drags us toward the back of the workshop. I let him do so, even if his strength is non-existent compared to mine, followed by the stares of all the workers within.
"Is this your shop?"
Primrose nods to me as she closes the door behind us with her boot. The woman then plops down on a cushiony chair with her legs up.
"It is. Canyon gave it to him so he could create weapons and tools more efficiently."
I pivot and see Earl's wide grin as he shuffles along his table. The man's rant starts before he even finds what he made me amongst the vast messiness of his life—and this? This is his life.
"I knew you'd break your arm somehow. Either it'd be destroyed by the living sand, or you'd ruin it by battling some monster. So, I began searching for materials that would last. And within the depths of the plateau, Canyon had something I could use. Sky's Bane. It's a metal so brutal that not even Tomas' Claws could put in more than a dent. It is absurdly heavy, though."
Earl grunts as he drags a bag out from inside a cluster of parts and tools, heaving as he stumbles with it toward me. The thing never leaves the ground for even a second, proving the man's words.
"It's not magnetic either. I've decided to toss out that part of it for your prosthetics. To make the magnetism useful, it'd just be too unwieldy and complex. Instead, I was able to shove more into it than before."
The bag is unfurled as Earl steps away with the fabric, revealing the contents to me like the greatest gift in the world.
The silver arm, a masterpiece of Earl's craftsmanship, resembles interlocking segments like that of an Amikuk's scales. Intricate coils, springs, and levers lie beneath the surface, their purpose hidden from my discerning eye.
As I step closer, the weight of the prosthetic becomes apparent the moment I try to lift it. It's a formidable piece, nearly matching my own weight. With a determined grunt, I hoist it onto a nearby table for closer inspection. My fingers trace the cool surface, feeling the promise of power beneath as I search the dark blue Sigil chains with my eyes.
Earl goes into more detail as I discover concealed outlets on each side of the arm—potential hiding places for lethal blades. The possibilities send a shiver of excitement down my spine.
"I figured that one blade wasn't enough to be fool-proof. So, I gave you four. Oh, and the gun is still there, look. I improved the impact power as Primrose has gotten better at compressing air, and the metal is more capable of withstanding the high pressures."
I'm directed to a slider discreetly nestled in the palm, and with a subtle movement, a compartment opens, revealing a perfectly aligned hole. A place for a miniature cannon, a hidden weapon that could tip the scales in a desperate situation.
It's a marvel, far better than the last one he made. I gaze up at him as Earl points to even more places, showing that there is still more to be found.
"I took out the mercury blades. I don't think they are toxic enough for Angels. Instead, I replaced the spot with a handheld bomb. It is utterly immune to physical impact and can only be detonated through a mental command through the arm. It contains enough power to level a city block, so... be careful with it. Oh, and the Sigils! I found it easier to split them into halves, so half of them are Mentalists, and the other half are Occultists. Its strength will come from both your mind and your blood while also bolstering you in turn. I'm not sure what all the Sigils can do, but we could do some testing..."
Again, I stop him midway through and hug him tightly. He has no idea what this means to me every time. I know he thinks he is paying for his past mistakes, but getting a new arm is like being given back a part of myself.
"Thank you. Thank you so much. Can we get this thing on? I don't think I can wait any longer."
Earl nods, motioning me to lift it. I do so, grunting under the weight with the odd grip on my lone hand. Then, he helps me guide it to my stump as Primrose aids, too.
In only a moment, with zero pain or discomfort, I feel my right arm once more. The old thing that was damaged and scarred for weeks is utterly gone. A pristine weapon that doubles as a limb now takes its place.
I can feel Blodwyn stretching out his fleshly tendrils from my heart, touching the limb with a hum of approval. He likes it. Good. It would be rather awkward if he didn't.
A moment passes before I feel the effect of the Sigils within it as Blodwyn flows blood into the open veins the prosthetic has. And seconds later, red fluid lines the undercarriage of the scales of the arm.
My blood smoothens out as I feel more vitality within each drop of the liquid. I feel... good. I feel... energetic. My mind is moving faster than before, and a sense of joy is streaming through my whole being.
I stay a while with Earl as he continues to ramble about his many inventions and weapons, but eventually, Bonfire grows irritated. The man shuffles beside me, unable to speak as he once did. Earl gives him a weird look, but I motion to leave after telling him the situation.
"We must get going. I'm sorry for coming and going so suddenly, but we have to go. Oh, and Lennon lost his arms. Do you think you could look into doing something about that? Let Dawn know or something? I don't want him to be armless. He's done too much for us."
Earl's eyes sink at my departure, but he nods anyway. I give him one last hug before dragging Bonfire out. I don't want him to get angry or lose himself here.
That'd be really bad.
So, I prevent myself from visiting anyone else. Not even Blake, Silas, or Tomas.
Instead, we head out from the city, departing eastward toward the wilderness that surrounds it. But just as we enter the woods, a voice calls for me.
Turning around, I find Earl standing behind me with a duffle bag on his back, one in each hand, and Primrose behind him carrying thrice that number.
"What are you guys doing? You should stay back!"
Earl laughs and shakes his head.
"No fucking way I'm leaving my best friend on his own to wage a war. I'm coming with."
Primrose sighs and slaps Earl with one of the bags. The genius nearly trips and falls from the slight impact.
"I hate hauling his shit, but I'm here, too."
"As am I."
A voice comes from above as I stare upwardly. I discover a pale man with fires for eyes dangling from a tree. Silas smokes his cigar as he hops down, the sword at his hip wiggling dangerously from the movement.
"Tomas is going to join us, too. Blake will probably sneak away as well. I'm afraid that's all the reinforcements you'll get. Kwakiteh already left a few days ago to find her father's killer. This is from Aniwye. Johnny gave it to me to deliver when I said I'd be leaving."
As Silas speaks, he hands me a letter written in a script that shifts underneath my very eyes. I read the short thing before the Undead man explains himself.
"I've gone to Onyx Gate, little one. I long to see your father. It has driven me nearly mad. It is almost time, however. I have been playing with the minds of those around Weiss and Adkins. A war shall be soon. Join me. I will be waiting, little one. I cannot wait to see your wings up close."
"I heard from Johnny you're going back to the Underworld. I figured it was about time I headed back myself. It just doesn't feel right up here. So, you have me to come along with."
I smile at the Undead and shake his hand as the jokester finds his mettle. It is also good to hear that Tomas will join us later. But... I don't know if I want Blake to come. She should stay with Lennox and Johnny.
Not that I can stop her, though. I'll just have to keep her safe.
And so, we continue through the brush, with three added passengers to Bonfire and my conveyance. As we walk, I pull the book out that Johnny gave me hours ago.
—Note From Isaac
This book is so old that it does not hold to the same standards as the others. The first Supreme was not a man that we know much about. To hold back the Gates Of Hell by one's lonesome, however, is a feat only attributed to the Devil himself and Louis Fern. The first Supreme was unlike any other man in history, both of the living and the dead.
It has been centuries since I saw the light of the sun.
I have dug so deeply into the confines of the self that I am not sure what is me anymore. Only the rhythms and rhymes of order and chaos keep me together.
I know not of any man who has lived as long as I.
Two hundred years and counting. It is...
Against the rules.
Perhaps I should simply change them.
Or not.
Perhaps I should find some others to change.
In case I fail to alter the fabric of reality, take upon the notes that have brought me upon this pinnacle of might. Lords fear me. The powerful demons won't even speak my name. The lessers don't even know me by anything other than my facade.
Excavator is a way to dig into the depths of one's flesh, bones, mind, and soul to unearth and input potential that one might otherwise not have. It rips out what has been placed there, unleashing the Ether back out for a low price. Upon reaching a Sirza, it has the ability to store more than simple movements of Ether. It can hold vast concepts to be released into the air.
Follow my words. Perhaps you will grasp the meaning. If you cannot, hand the book to another. Perhaps they will. The depths of a soul are endless. The only limit one has is the one they impose upon themselves.
I find myself seated at a weathered table, the air thick with the palpable tension of wary gazes. Before me sits a trio—a seasoned gunslinger, a muscular old man marked by a litany of scars, and a woman, her grip firm on the blade she bears at her hip. As my eyes meet theirs, a faint smile curls upon the lips of the gunman.
"Glad to see you alive, Wyatt. Bonfire..."
The penetrating stares of the other two hold my attention—the old man with his cane and his deep violet fetters. He doesn't stare at me, however. Suspicion hangs in the air as their eyes interrogate Bonfire.
I push to speak for the man, but Canyon, the 'king' of Gravecross, makes his move first. His tone holds zero room for negotiation.
"I do not want a thing like him in here. Leave. Now. Or I will make you."
Bonfire's gaze settles upon Canyon and Laura, but I place my hand on his shoulder. I whisper into his ear while Johnny does the same to Canyon.
"Be peaceful. We can't get wrapped up here in a fight, especially not against our own friends. We left Dakota and Elizabeth in Kingstown two days ago, remember?"
Reason gradually refills Emmett's eyes. I nod to the development and open my mouth to Canyon. I won't let him speak to Bonfire like that. He's been through too much. He's saved my life, sacrificing his own future alongside that of his close friends—of our friends.
Some old bastard who has sat on his spoils for decades without doing a damned thing can go to Hell. I'll keep it peaceful, but I'll be sure to let this fucker know he can't command us.
"I am sure you know who I am, Furious Mountain. You cannot tell me or Bonfire what to do. We came here to speak to our friends before shortly leaving. I only obeyed your summons to be kind. Whether you allow us or not, we will be here. There is nothing you can do to stop us other than striking us yourself. Though... I highly doubt you would like that to happen within the hearth of your city."
I stake my bluff with my eyes focused on Canyon. If this old man wants to be an asshole, I'll play along. Johnny glares at me with a warning, but I ignore him.
I'm not that little kid anymore. I'm an Angel just like him, and so is Bonfire. Our words hold meaning, as do our actions. I haven't gone all out yet with my new strengths, but just the fact Bonfire and I traversed an entire Territory and climbed Gravecross in less than two days is enough for me to know we aren't weak. It makes sense to me how Pillars were able to traverse the Territories so quickly if their speeds are even close to ours.
"You... heh... You Graves are always so damned narcissistic. He may stay, but... unless you wish for me to hunt you down, keep the Eventide in check."
Johnny's eyes fall to the floor as he hears the sentencing of Bonfire. The truth of why we are having this conversation is the ticking time bomb that my friend is. None of us know how long he'll last. Though, if I were to guess, he would hold on until we find Abraham.
Any less, and I don't think he'd ever forgive himself, even the converted version of him.
I nod to Canyon as I then shift my focus to Johnny, not wanting to deal with the old coward any longer. So much less suffering would have occurred had a Virtue like him done something other than sit in his ivory estate.
He's hardly any better than the actual Estates.
"Johnny. Bonfire and I will join Maddox in his attack on Onyx Gate. Now, let me finish. I'm not going to simply ride along with him like I have done for you. We will be on our own, taking advantage of the chaos to kill Eli and take the Gate Of Death into the Underworld. There, we will head towards Hell across No Man's Land and find both my father and, hopefully, Abraham as well. It's a long story, but he's there..."
I continue on my rant, detailing why we are going there and how. Channeling an aspect of Edmund, I rant for a while as everyone in this room with me listens silently. Canyon and Laura, however, leave partway through, finding something else to do instead of listening to me. I tell Johnny that he doesn't have to join. He doesn't even have to feel obligated. I...
"You have done enough for me, Johnny. I've seen that you've stayed here. If that is what you wish, then feel no pressure. Thank you for everything, even if it all started rocky at best. Bonfire and I, with Elizabeth, will do everything possible to take down Eli."
Johnny's head bobs sadly at my words as I can see him inhale a profoundly deep breath. The man seems to age several years in only a moment as he clasps his fingers together to answer me.
"You have to be careful with that girl, Wyatt. She's... the deaths have changed her. She wants a war to strengthen everyone—a civil war, and it would appear she is getting what she wants. But... I do not think I can join you in this. So many have died. I've... I've lost so many. And this place is safe—safer than any I've ever known. I can't uproot them or leave them."
My head also sinks at his words while Bonfire simmers quietly beside me. I know he's already had his spats with Johnny, but the man is holding himself back for me.
Johnny is a man I respect so deeply that I cannot blame him for doing this. All the time I've ever known him, he's wanted to change how things are done, shake the world at the top. And while he might not have done it himself, it has happened. The Estates hold far less control than they ever did. They are also about to be busy fighting a civil war against Maddox. This news, if anything, must be music to Johnny's ears, even if it hurts to hear.
Gravecross has always been at odds with the Estates, along with a fragile balance hinged upon the lifespan of Canyon Cift. Yet... with the current events... this place may just be able to become genuinely independent with Johnny's help. He's a leader to hundreds first, my friend second.
"I won't blame you, Johnny. You've done it. You've found us a home. I'm only sorry I can't enjoy it with you."
The Iron Consul raises his eyes to meet me again, this time with a great grin to match the solemness. He scans me with those golden pupils, finding something that he very much enjoys seeing.
"I'm proud of you. If this is our final goodbye, I want you to know that. I knew you were special when I first met you, but not precisely how special. If I could turn back time... I'd never have made you a Deadman. I'd have given you every morsel of strength I could have just as I did for Earl. But none can truly see the future. We can only feel our way through."
I shake my head at the man's regrets, standing and striding over to him. Then, I wrap my arm around the man as he gets up as well.
"It's in the past. I'm here now, aren't I? Just keep all these people safe. I mean it. Keep Earl safe. Don't ever let him stop changing the world. Let the Bado grow into a new population. Let Lennox live out his life. Let Blake... you better make her happy."
Johnny smiles back at me before the hug ends. And as it does, he shoves a book into my hand.
It is titled Excavator, penned by a man named Louis Fern.
"This is my gift to you. A skill, a Dzil, made by a Supreme from the Underworld. Take it. Learn it. Add another weapon to your growing arsenal. I am positive it will be something you will use."
Johnny then grabs my shoulder, glancing at Bonfire as well. The man's words leave his mouth with genuine care, even at the troublemaker behind me.
"I wish the both of you success. I... you are right. I cannot join you, even if it pains me. But all journeys must have an end. I have fought and destroyed for nearly all my life. I think it is about time I start building. I have decided to place my faith in Vincent and in you all. I might sound cowardly, but I know I don't have a place in the battles of Virtues and Dominions, let alone Gods. I'm just a man who has broken his limits once. I doubt it'll happen again. I'm no Lennon. I'm no you."
Johnny then steps away from me, heading toward the door, opening it while gesturing for us to leave.
"Yet, you'd be crazy if you thought Earl would just let you leave. I'd be surprised if he doesn't come along with you. I never have and will never force him to do anything. Hell would have to freeze for me to hold down his mind. Go see him. I heard he was making something for you while you were gone."
Earl made me something? Was he that sure I was alive?
"What did he make?"
I can't stop myself from inquiring, but Johnny only chuckles. Patting me on the back again, he pushes me lightly into the street.
"If I were to name someone with more confidence in you than Earl, I'd be lying. The kid practically sees you as an undying monster that can fix anything. He puts himself up to such a standard that he has to save that monster. If I hadn't seen you at your worst... I'd have to agree with him. It is hard to find friends with such... loyalty. They are closer than any family could ever be. Remember that."
The laughing from the gunslinger ceases as he ends his words with a profound grimness, sliding a note into my hand. Then, he strides away with a wave, sending Bonfire and my farewell.
"Don't see me again before you leave. I may not have the will to stay."
I smile at his words, knowing the truth. He wants to join, but he knows better. Someone has to protect those here. Johnny has always been a guardian, not a war-seeker. I'm happy he found his place.
My feet then carry Bonfire and me to where the note Johnny gave us indicates. Following street signs, we quickly wander to a smoky-smelling building with incessant clangs within.
We step through the front door to find a workshop filled with a dozen blacksmiths striking metal, while along the sides are Coltsmiths putting together weapons.
I raise an eyebrow at the sight and stand in confusion for a few seconds until a familiar voice shouts at me.
"Wyatt!? Wyatt!"
Earl comes sprinting toward us, tailed by Primrose's ever-so-smug face. My friend slams me with a hug as the lady behind him smiles with a wave.
"I'm so glad you're okay! Thank you, Bonfire! Hey, I knew you'd break your arm! How'd you do it this time!?"
Earl then rapidly drags us toward the back of the workshop. I let him do so, even if his strength is non-existent compared to mine, followed by the stares of all the workers within.
"Is this your shop?"
Primrose nods to me as she closes the door behind us with her boot. The woman then plops down on a cushiony chair with her legs up.
"It is. Canyon gave it to him so he could create weapons and tools more efficiently."
I pivot and see Earl's wide grin as he shuffles along his table. The man's rant starts before he even finds what he made me amongst the vast messiness of his life—and this? This is his life.
"I knew you'd break your arm somehow. Either it'd be destroyed by the living sand, or you'd ruin it by battling some monster. So, I began searching for materials that would last. And within the depths of the plateau, Canyon had something I could use. Sky's Bane. It's a metal so brutal that not even Tomas' Claws could put in more than a dent. It is absurdly heavy, though."
Earl grunts as he drags a bag out from inside a cluster of parts and tools, heaving as he stumbles with it toward me. The thing never leaves the ground for even a second, proving the man's words.
"It's not magnetic either. I've decided to toss out that part of it for your prosthetics. To make the magnetism useful, it'd just be too unwieldy and complex. Instead, I was able to shove more into it than before."
The bag is unfurled as Earl steps away with the fabric, revealing the contents to me like the greatest gift in the world.
The silver arm, a masterpiece of Earl's craftsmanship, resembles interlocking segments like that of an Amikuk's scales. Intricate coils, springs, and levers lie beneath the surface, their purpose hidden from my discerning eye.
As I step closer, the weight of the prosthetic becomes apparent the moment I try to lift it. It's a formidable piece, nearly matching my own weight. With a determined grunt, I hoist it onto a nearby table for closer inspection. My fingers trace the cool surface, feeling the promise of power beneath as I search the dark blue Sigil chains with my eyes.
Earl goes into more detail as I discover concealed outlets on each side of the arm—potential hiding places for lethal blades. The possibilities send a shiver of excitement down my spine.
"I figured that one blade wasn't enough to be fool-proof. So, I gave you four. Oh, and the gun is still there, look. I improved the impact power as Primrose has gotten better at compressing air, and the metal is more capable of withstanding the high pressures."
I'm directed to a slider discreetly nestled in the palm, and with a subtle movement, a compartment opens, revealing a perfectly aligned hole. A place for a miniature cannon, a hidden weapon that could tip the scales in a desperate situation.
It's a marvel, far better than the last one he made. I gaze up at him as Earl points to even more places, showing that there is still more to be found.
"I took out the mercury blades. I don't think they are toxic enough for Angels. Instead, I replaced the spot with a handheld bomb. It is utterly immune to physical impact and can only be detonated through a mental command through the arm. It contains enough power to level a city block, so... be careful with it. Oh, and the Sigils! I found it easier to split them into halves, so half of them are Mentalists, and the other half are Occultists. Its strength will come from both your mind and your blood while also bolstering you in turn. I'm not sure what all the Sigils can do, but we could do some testing..."
Again, I stop him midway through and hug him tightly. He has no idea what this means to me every time. I know he thinks he is paying for his past mistakes, but getting a new arm is like being given back a part of myself.
"Thank you. Thank you so much. Can we get this thing on? I don't think I can wait any longer."
Earl nods, motioning me to lift it. I do so, grunting under the weight with the odd grip on my lone hand. Then, he helps me guide it to my stump as Primrose aids, too.
In only a moment, with zero pain or discomfort, I feel my right arm once more. The old thing that was damaged and scarred for weeks is utterly gone. A pristine weapon that doubles as a limb now takes its place.
I can feel Blodwyn stretching out his fleshly tendrils from my heart, touching the limb with a hum of approval. He likes it. Good. It would be rather awkward if he didn't.
A moment passes before I feel the effect of the Sigils within it as Blodwyn flows blood into the open veins the prosthetic has. And seconds later, red fluid lines the undercarriage of the scales of the arm.
My blood smoothens out as I feel more vitality within each drop of the liquid. I feel... good. I feel... energetic. My mind is moving faster than before, and a sense of joy is streaming through my whole being.
I stay a while with Earl as he continues to ramble about his many inventions and weapons, but eventually, Bonfire grows irritated. The man shuffles beside me, unable to speak as he once did. Earl gives him a weird look, but I motion to leave after telling him the situation.
"We must get going. I'm sorry for coming and going so suddenly, but we have to go. Oh, and Lennon lost his arms. Do you think you could look into doing something about that? Let Dawn know or something? I don't want him to be armless. He's done too much for us."
Earl's eyes sink at my departure, but he nods anyway. I give him one last hug before dragging Bonfire out. I don't want him to get angry or lose himself here.
That'd be really bad.
So, I prevent myself from visiting anyone else. Not even Blake, Silas, or Tomas.
Instead, we head out from the city, departing eastward toward the wilderness that surrounds it. But just as we enter the woods, a voice calls for me.
Turning around, I find Earl standing behind me with a duffle bag on his back, one in each hand, and Primrose behind him carrying thrice that number.
"What are you guys doing? You should stay back!"
Earl laughs and shakes his head.
"No fucking way I'm leaving my best friend on his own to wage a war. I'm coming with."
Primrose sighs and slaps Earl with one of the bags. The genius nearly trips and falls from the slight impact.
"I hate hauling his shit, but I'm here, too."
"As am I."
A voice comes from above as I stare upwardly. I discover a pale man with fires for eyes dangling from a tree. Silas smokes his cigar as he hops down, the sword at his hip wiggling dangerously from the movement.
"Tomas is going to join us, too. Blake will probably sneak away as well. I'm afraid that's all the reinforcements you'll get. Kwakiteh already left a few days ago to find her father's killer. This is from Aniwye. Johnny gave it to me to deliver when I said I'd be leaving."
As Silas speaks, he hands me a letter written in a script that shifts underneath my very eyes. I read the short thing before the Undead man explains himself.
"I've gone to Onyx Gate, little one. I long to see your father. It has driven me nearly mad. It is almost time, however. I have been playing with the minds of those around Weiss and Adkins. A war shall be soon. Join me. I will be waiting, little one. I cannot wait to see your wings up close."
"I heard from Johnny you're going back to the Underworld. I figured it was about time I headed back myself. It just doesn't feel right up here. So, you have me to come along with."
I smile at the Undead and shake his hand as the jokester finds his mettle. It is also good to hear that Tomas will join us later. But... I don't know if I want Blake to come. She should stay with Lennox and Johnny.
Not that I can stop her, though. I'll just have to keep her safe.
And so, we continue through the brush, with three added passengers to Bonfire and my conveyance. As we walk, I pull the book out that Johnny gave me hours ago.
—Note From Isaac
This book is so old that it does not hold to the same standards as the others. The first Supreme was not a man that we know much about. To hold back the Gates Of Hell by one's lonesome, however, is a feat only attributed to the Devil himself and Louis Fern. The first Supreme was unlike any other man in history, both of the living and the dead.
It has been centuries since I saw the light of the sun.
I have dug so deeply into the confines of the self that I am not sure what is me anymore. Only the rhythms and rhymes of order and chaos keep me together.
I know not of any man who has lived as long as I.
Two hundred years and counting. It is...
Against the rules.
Perhaps I should simply change them.
Or not.
Perhaps I should find some others to change.
In case I fail to alter the fabric of reality, take upon the notes that have brought me upon this pinnacle of might. Lords fear me. The powerful demons won't even speak my name. The lessers don't even know me by anything other than my facade.
Excavator is a way to dig into the depths of one's flesh, bones, mind, and soul to unearth and input potential that one might otherwise not have. It rips out what has been placed there, unleashing the Ether back out for a low price. Upon reaching a Sirza, it has the ability to store more than simple movements of Ether. It can hold vast concepts to be released into the air.
Follow my words. Perhaps you will grasp the meaning. If you cannot, hand the book to another. Perhaps they will. The depths of a soul are endless. The only limit one has is the one they impose upon themselves.
