*************************
Earl 'Miraclemaker' Garner
I stride purposefully through Onyx Gate, leaving the clamor of moving carriages behind as I make my way towards the depths of the city—towards Primary. People, for the most part, ignore me, and I do the same to them. The streets, for the most part as well, are simple, with only a few guards sparing me any attention. The many food hawkers and tradesmen make me smile as I continue on my way.
There is even a Coltsmith's workshop along my path, something that excites me even though I'll never get to see the inside.
But as I approach the looming edifices that mark the entry to Primary, the atmosphere tightens, buildings squeezing closer together like tightly packed bodies in a grave. Alleyways disappear entirely, becoming hand-sized gaps between constructs.
No human could possibly fit in there. But... other things could. I need to save those thoughts for later.
Maintaining a stoic exterior in my suit just as Virgil would, suitcase in hand, I walk with a poker face that belies the nervous storm churning within me. Inside, anxiety courses through my veins, and I struggle to suppress the beads of sweat threatening to betray my composure.
Under my continuous asking, the retired assassin taught me several ways to help seem inconspicuous, but I feel most of them are pointless in actuality. I listened to him intently, but simply paying attention to his words was not enough. My hands shake with tremors as I try to calm them. A quick glance at the guards through one-way glasses, specially crafted to shield my shifting eyes from their scrutiny, reveals their watchful presence. However, they don't seem to care for me at all.
I suppose I am only one in a million here, perhaps even less. A man with dark glasses isn't very unique. At most, they are something to look at. So, I continue forward toward Primary, convincing myself that I am fine.
As I do so, I go through my plans to get inside again. Elizabeth left this part to me, believing that I would make something more suitable for the situation on the fly. Whether she's correct or not remains to be seen.
Closer now to the divider between the rest of the city and the suspicious confines of Primary, I find myself before another towering wall, almost identical to the one that surrounds all of Onyx Gate. It is just as formidable a barrier, too, reaching over twenty feet into the air. Inhaling a deep breath to steady my nerves, I step towards the imposing gate where guards scrutinize the entries, which, in this higher-class part of the city, are few and far between. There are only three people at the gate currently, and even from here, I can tell that the three are no slouches.
The first and second men have blades sheathed at their hips that, from my keen eye, are obviously high Flamme blades—5th Flamme, at the very least, for both of them. Powerful men.
And the woman behind them is even more incredible, with a 6th Mark Colt at her hip. My mouth almost waters at the thought of dismantling the weapon to figure out how it works with six barrels, but I discard the idea.
Approaching the gatekeepers, I keep my gaze forward, avoiding any suspicious glances. I don't even look at the three figures and stand patiently in line as I go over the plans I made on the way here.
Racking my brain for a strategy to navigate the insanely tight security, I go over the main plans I considered one final time. As I do so, I peer upward, impressed by the imposing wall based on solid stone.
Strategy one: Blend in with the crowd. I consider attempting to merge seamlessly with the few individuals waiting for inspection. However, the guards are obviously well-trained with weapons aimed toward us at all times, and any subtle deviation might raise suspicions. I'm scratching that plan; it's too risky and likely to fail.
Strategy two: Utilize the shadows. Timing my approach during a shift change or transition when guards are likely to be occupied with administrative tasks. As darkness falls, shadows may offer additional cover, allowing for a discreet passage through the gate just as we did to enter Onyx Gate. Yet, I shake aside this one, too. I don't have Wyatt or Primrose to act fast enough to clear any threats in the way. A repeat of our entrance into Onyx Gate is not possible.
Strategy three: Feign confidence. Striding forward purposefully, I consider acting as if I belong, exuding an air of authority. Yet, I discard the idea—too many eyes are watching, and a lone man in a suit whose identity is unknown is almost guaranteed to get shot.
But... that is only if I am a random man with an unknown identity. If I were to pose as someone important to Eli, I might be able to slide through. Yet, I'll have to prove it. And how will I do that?
An Ail.
Eli Weiss would know about the Ail in my eye, but I highly doubt he'd spread that information to mere guards. They are more likely to think I'm an important figure that should be let in.
But what if they report my entrance directly to Eli? That's the main thing that holds me back from this plan.
The first two men continue through the gate after being checked and approved. My hands shake further as I step forward, lining up directly with a guard, rifle in hand, and directed toward me. There is no malice in his eyes. He is simply doing his job.
Swallowing, I nod to the man. He simply blinks back. Okay.
How would I go about preventing my arrival from being reported? I could simply say to not notify him, but I think that would only garner suspicion. Hmm...
Oh, I know. I should tell them to notify him, only to say to him that I am someone else.
Ohohoho. There is one other man currently on the surface who would be able to create an Ail or any equal piece of technology. As far as Wyatt knows, the tenth Prime is still standing, though he might have faded by now. It's a gamble worth taking.
After discarding the initial strategies and refining my thoughts, I settle on the final one, a not-so-daring but still risky plan.
As I stand before the gate, I take a deep breath, mentally rehearsing the plan as the woman in front of me continues forward. No one alive, other than Vincent and Canyon, should know what the Tenth looks like.
This will work. It will.
"Identification and purpose for entering Primary."
The guard eyes me suspiciously, a silent tension hanging in the air as he scrutinizes the false identity I've conjured. I'm in a suit with a case beside me, heavy and prolonged. He follows along my body, the attention focused on where weapons might lie. The imposing figure in front of me, muscles straining against the uniform, exudes an air of authority that makes my heart race. I steady my nerves, reminding myself that the success of this ruse hinges on maintaining composure.
"Identification."
The guard repeats himself with an apparent demand not to be taken lightly, his voice a low growl that reverberates through the gate area. The shifting of guns nearby and their clacking movements force me to take a deep breath, suppressing the unease clawing at the edges of my resolve. With practiced nonchalance, I shrug my shoulders, hefting my suitcase to fit onto the counter before me.
"Arnold Pilner. Here to deliver Eli Weiss a gift."
I manage to squeeze out the handful of words confidently, offering a feigned smile that conceals the turmoil beneath the surface. The name carries weight when leaving my mouth, a legendary figure whose true name is known only to a select few. It's a calculated risk, however. If this person knows the name instead of the Prime, I may be screwed.
The guard squints, a furrow forming on his brow. Threads of Ether escape from his shoulder, the fabric of his garb crossing over with deadly tension. The ghastly strands dance in the air, pointing toward me like a thousand spectral needles.
Shit.
I maintain eye contact, doing my best to radiate an air of confidence despite the subtle telltale signs of my deception. The guard's gaze lingers, his scrutiny intensifying, and for a moment, time seems to hang in precarious balance. The success or failure of this gambit rests on the guard's decision.
"And why would the Prime need to receive your gift at such a time? He is swamped preparing for war. Common folk like you have no place speaking to him."
I almost bite my lip at the slight he forwards to me, but I don't take it personally. I'm sure there are hundreds of people who try to get onto Weiss' good side simply for the fact he is the Prime now.
Sighing as though this is simply annoying to try and relieve my nervousness, I twist my suitcase around to case the guard. He is already reaching for it, but I deliver it to him without resistance.
The guard opens it slowly as I explain the contents.
"Those are Ails—objects that possess the Ether and power of an artifact but none of the negative effects. Seeing as you frequent or live here, you must know them. I have created three for the Prime after being inspired."
Nearly everything I say is a lie, but I speak the truth about the Ails and their power. All the other things I have within the suitcase are hidden in compartments that cannot be found without tearing it apart. Nevertheless, the guard reaches for an Ail, lifting it to his pupil as he shudders toward the eyeball within the vial. A voice comes from behind the wall, a hidden figure taking notice. I glance around, finding that woman with the 6th Mark Colt missing. It must be her.
"I see. Arnold speaks the truth; all the Colonels have one. Let him through."
Finally, after an excruciating pause, the guard grunts to his superior and steps aside, allowing me passage through the gate. The Ether threads retract into the fabric of the man's clothing, a silent exhale escaping me as I continue on my way. Yet, my relief is short-lived as I compute what the man said about the Ails.
All the Colonels have one? Dammit. That means Weiss learned how to distribute them to weaker people, perhaps even better than I. I need Wyatt's angelic blood to sustain mine, and the vials within my suitcase will only last a month.
If all the Colonels have one... each Angel will probably have two. That will be the first piece of information put into the deaddrop. But... how will I get back out to deliver the information? I'll have to use a courier of some kind, I suppose.
Hopefully, Primary has those.
Before I step all the way past the counter, however, I pause, not letting them do it first. I twist my head and face the guard.
"Be sure to let him know that I'm here and waiting. Arnold Pilner. He'll know me."
I notice the guard's hand freeze in the air in the middle of heading to press some sort of button. Then, he nods toward me with a smile.
"Of course, Mr. Pilner. I'll let him know right away."
As I step through the guarded gates into Primary, the sheer magnitude of the renowned Onyxstone architecture envelops me. Every structure, formidable and dark, is a testament to the ingenuity of the First, who crafted this city with his hands. Onyxstone, or Onyx to the commonfolk, the fabled material that birthed the city's name, adorns each building, its abyssal black hue casting an imposing aura over the surroundings. Primary is where the man's hands touched. The rest of Onyx Gate was made long, long after his death. This, however, bears his genius.
The layout of Primary is a stark contrast to the city I left behind. Here, buildings are sparse, giving each structure room to breathe. The limited number of constructions, most no taller than two floors, only heightens the sense of isolation.
It's an enclave of miniature fortresses, with Onyxstone serving as both shield and facade due to its extreme toughness and durability despite its light weight. The vast spaces between each building make it clear that distance is both a luxury and a product of how difficult it is to dig up and mold the Onyx.
Navigating through the wide streets, I head towards the nearest open field beside the wall without any trees, a seemingly inconspicuous location that provides a momentary reprieve from the dark structures. Soon, I'll have to find a place to hide—time to get started. Opening my suitcase, I reveal the three vials, each containing a solitary eyeball suspended in a dark red liquid. The grotesque display only makes me move faster, grabbing the eye with a pupil of dirt.
Carefully, I examine the surroundings, ensuring no prying eyes witness the macabre contents of my suitcase. Then, I reach and take the one that I will be needing the most for the time being—Kiro's Dust.
Alongside Kiro's Dust, I grab a vial of Wyatt's blood. His angelic nature seems to be twice as potent as others due to Blodwyn, making his blood consume half as much for the same effect. And on the case of Wyatt, I've been investigating how to get his ability to loosen the chains of others to work to my advantage. I have a lot of thoughts, but I simply don't have the time to experiment with them. Perhaps, here, I'll have the time to think in between investigations. What if... No. I need to focus. But there is a chance he can hurry the process of advancing Sigils.
The absence of people in the immediate vicinity grants me a moment of secrecy, and I proceed with caution. My goal is clear, but the path to achieving it demands finesse and discretion.
At any moment, Eli could come out to find me. I need to be gone by then.
So, I dip the eye into the vial of Wyatt's blood as I force Ether into it and cut my own hand. Sanguine fluid falls onto the floating eye as I take control of it for a moment. This method of usage is something I only recently discovered with Wyatt's blood as his Vigor is so potent, but I reckon it should work with a Virtue or higher as well.
It does have a significant disadvantage, though. Once the blood that has dripped onto the eye dries, I lose control over the Ail. For now, however, it is better than putting it in my head. I need options. Like this, I can bear as many Powers from Angels as I have Ails made from them.
Closing my eyes, I contort the Ail, commanding it to work for me. I smile as I feel the dirt underneath my feet shift, sending me beneath the ground. Cool soil wraps around me like a coffin, even restricting my breathing. Regardless of the danger, I don't panic. Carefully, I control the eye, covering the top of the vial but keeping it in my shirt pocket. I shift through the dirt like it's water, heading toward the more central buildings.
Eli is least likely to think that someone would hide near the Harvey Estate. Arnold, were he to arrive, would just go up and see him. So, that old man is going to be confused as hell when he doesn't show up. Still, I doubt he'll think of the truth. I don't know what he'll reason this to be, but he is least likely to suppose it is me.
Once in the center of the city, I take advantage of the blood from Wyatt and explore Primary, searching for the Stairway. With it, we could enter the Underworld simply using the Death's Lantern instead of also finding a Crossroads.
Time quickly flies as I search, sadly to no avail, so I return to the center of Primary. But that's alright. Anytime I need to go beneath the surface, I'll continue my search. For now, however, I take another Ail, moving stiffly through the slight abode I made beneath the rocks.
Listening Gy, one of the other Ails from way back when is activated the same way as Kiro's Dust. Unlike it, though, this one is more passive. And... nonsensical.
I place the eye to the ceiling above me, and the vibrations above are revealed to me. Whoever or whatever had this eye, probably not a human by its larger-than-normal size, saw through vibrations and sound, not light.
And so, I sit quietly as I gather data, using my other hand to prepare for the final Ail. Skinless Pupil. I've been meticulous in concealing this one from everyone, knowing how vital this could potentially be. The less who know about an Ail like this, the better. And sure, these things come from Eli, but I've done a thousand checks, a thousand guarantees.
These Ails were not placed with any backdoors or loopholes. Not even blatant weaknesses. Weiss had to put decoys amongst the genuine threat, Deux.
Skinless Pupil, however is special, so so very special.
It comes straight from a Skinwalker, one of the rarest kinds of demons.
I can look like anyone I desire and shape my flesh to match or mirror any person. It even allows me to change my height and weight, just not too much. There are ways to test if someone is a Skinwalker, but I doubt it will work through this, as it is simply something that tests if someone has human blood or not, which I do.
It's perfect for this and one of the reasons why I was so willing. Not even Elizabeth knows I have this.
A secret can only be guaranteed if no one knows it. Still, I do wish I had told them. Nevertheless, it is better to be safe than sorry.
The flesh on my arm ripples and molds as I listen to those above, viewing their bodies as the vibrations in the earth. In only a moment, I spot a man who appears to have some kind of status in Primary.
And in only a scant few seconds, I look, feel, and speak identically to him.
*************************
Earl 'Miraclemaker' Garner
I stride purposefully through Onyx Gate, leaving the clamor of moving carriages behind as I make my way towards the depths of the city—towards Primary. People, for the most part, ignore me, and I do the same to them. The streets, for the most part as well, are simple, with only a few guards sparing me any attention. The many food hawkers and tradesmen make me smile as I continue on my way.
There is even a Coltsmith's workshop along my path, something that excites me even though I'll never get to see the inside.
But as I approach the looming edifices that mark the entry to Primary, the atmosphere tightens, buildings squeezing closer together like tightly packed bodies in a grave. Alleyways disappear entirely, becoming hand-sized gaps between constructs.
No human could possibly fit in there. But... other things could. I need to save those thoughts for later.
Maintaining a stoic exterior in my suit just as Virgil would, suitcase in hand, I walk with a poker face that belies the nervous storm churning within me. Inside, anxiety courses through my veins, and I struggle to suppress the beads of sweat threatening to betray my composure.
Under my continuous asking, the retired assassin taught me several ways to help seem inconspicuous, but I feel most of them are pointless in actuality. I listened to him intently, but simply paying attention to his words was not enough. My hands shake with tremors as I try to calm them. A quick glance at the guards through one-way glasses, specially crafted to shield my shifting eyes from their scrutiny, reveals their watchful presence. However, they don't seem to care for me at all.
I suppose I am only one in a million here, perhaps even less. A man with dark glasses isn't very unique. At most, they are something to look at. So, I continue forward toward Primary, convincing myself that I am fine.
As I do so, I go through my plans to get inside again. Elizabeth left this part to me, believing that I would make something more suitable for the situation on the fly. Whether she's correct or not remains to be seen.
Closer now to the divider between the rest of the city and the suspicious confines of Primary, I find myself before another towering wall, almost identical to the one that surrounds all of Onyx Gate. It is just as formidable a barrier, too, reaching over twenty feet into the air. Inhaling a deep breath to steady my nerves, I step towards the imposing gate where guards scrutinize the entries, which, in this higher-class part of the city, are few and far between. There are only three people at the gate currently, and even from here, I can tell that the three are no slouches.
The first and second men have blades sheathed at their hips that, from my keen eye, are obviously high Flamme blades—5th Flamme, at the very least, for both of them. Powerful men.
And the woman behind them is even more incredible, with a 6th Mark Colt at her hip. My mouth almost waters at the thought of dismantling the weapon to figure out how it works with six barrels, but I discard the idea.
Approaching the gatekeepers, I keep my gaze forward, avoiding any suspicious glances. I don't even look at the three figures and stand patiently in line as I go over the plans I made on the way here.
Racking my brain for a strategy to navigate the insanely tight security, I go over the main plans I considered one final time. As I do so, I peer upward, impressed by the imposing wall based on solid stone.
Strategy one: Blend in with the crowd. I consider attempting to merge seamlessly with the few individuals waiting for inspection. However, the guards are obviously well-trained with weapons aimed toward us at all times, and any subtle deviation might raise suspicions. I'm scratching that plan; it's too risky and likely to fail.
Strategy two: Utilize the shadows. Timing my approach during a shift change or transition when guards are likely to be occupied with administrative tasks. As darkness falls, shadows may offer additional cover, allowing for a discreet passage through the gate just as we did to enter Onyx Gate. Yet, I shake aside this one, too. I don't have Wyatt or Primrose to act fast enough to clear any threats in the way. A repeat of our entrance into Onyx Gate is not possible.
Strategy three: Feign confidence. Striding forward purposefully, I consider acting as if I belong, exuding an air of authority. Yet, I discard the idea—too many eyes are watching, and a lone man in a suit whose identity is unknown is almost guaranteed to get shot.
But... that is only if I am a random man with an unknown identity. If I were to pose as someone important to Eli, I might be able to slide through. Yet, I'll have to prove it. And how will I do that?
An Ail.
Eli Weiss would know about the Ail in my eye, but I highly doubt he'd spread that information to mere guards. They are more likely to think I'm an important figure that should be let in.
But what if they report my entrance directly to Eli? That's the main thing that holds me back from this plan.
The first two men continue through the gate after being checked and approved. My hands shake further as I step forward, lining up directly with a guard, rifle in hand, and directed toward me. There is no malice in his eyes. He is simply doing his job.
Swallowing, I nod to the man. He simply blinks back. Okay.
How would I go about preventing my arrival from being reported? I could simply say to not notify him, but I think that would only garner suspicion. Hmm...
Oh, I know. I should tell them to notify him, only to say to him that I am someone else.
Ohohoho. There is one other man currently on the surface who would be able to create an Ail or any equal piece of technology. As far as Wyatt knows, the tenth Prime is still standing, though he might have faded by now. It's a gamble worth taking.
After discarding the initial strategies and refining my thoughts, I settle on the final one, a not-so-daring but still risky plan.
As I stand before the gate, I take a deep breath, mentally rehearsing the plan as the woman in front of me continues forward. No one alive, other than Vincent and Canyon, should know what the Tenth looks like.
This will work. It will.
"Identification and purpose for entering Primary."
The guard eyes me suspiciously, a silent tension hanging in the air as he scrutinizes the false identity I've conjured. I'm in a suit with a case beside me, heavy and prolonged. He follows along my body, the attention focused on where weapons might lie. The imposing figure in front of me, muscles straining against the uniform, exudes an air of authority that makes my heart race. I steady my nerves, reminding myself that the success of this ruse hinges on maintaining composure.
"Identification."
The guard repeats himself with an apparent demand not to be taken lightly, his voice a low growl that reverberates through the gate area. The shifting of guns nearby and their clacking movements force me to take a deep breath, suppressing the unease clawing at the edges of my resolve. With practiced nonchalance, I shrug my shoulders, hefting my suitcase to fit onto the counter before me.
"Arnold Pilner. Here to deliver Eli Weiss a gift."
I manage to squeeze out the handful of words confidently, offering a feigned smile that conceals the turmoil beneath the surface. The name carries weight when leaving my mouth, a legendary figure whose true name is known only to a select few. It's a calculated risk, however. If this person knows the name instead of the Prime, I may be screwed.
The guard squints, a furrow forming on his brow. Threads of Ether escape from his shoulder, the fabric of his garb crossing over with deadly tension. The ghastly strands dance in the air, pointing toward me like a thousand spectral needles.
Shit.
I maintain eye contact, doing my best to radiate an air of confidence despite the subtle telltale signs of my deception. The guard's gaze lingers, his scrutiny intensifying, and for a moment, time seems to hang in precarious balance. The success or failure of this gambit rests on the guard's decision.
"And why would the Prime need to receive your gift at such a time? He is swamped preparing for war. Common folk like you have no place speaking to him."
I almost bite my lip at the slight he forwards to me, but I don't take it personally. I'm sure there are hundreds of people who try to get onto Weiss' good side simply for the fact he is the Prime now.
Sighing as though this is simply annoying to try and relieve my nervousness, I twist my suitcase around to case the guard. He is already reaching for it, but I deliver it to him without resistance.
The guard opens it slowly as I explain the contents.
"Those are Ails—objects that possess the Ether and power of an artifact but none of the negative effects. Seeing as you frequent or live here, you must know them. I have created three for the Prime after being inspired."
Nearly everything I say is a lie, but I speak the truth about the Ails and their power. All the other things I have within the suitcase are hidden in compartments that cannot be found without tearing it apart. Nevertheless, the guard reaches for an Ail, lifting it to his pupil as he shudders toward the eyeball within the vial. A voice comes from behind the wall, a hidden figure taking notice. I glance around, finding that woman with the 6th Mark Colt missing. It must be her.
"I see. Arnold speaks the truth; all the Colonels have one. Let him through."
Finally, after an excruciating pause, the guard grunts to his superior and steps aside, allowing me passage through the gate. The Ether threads retract into the fabric of the man's clothing, a silent exhale escaping me as I continue on my way. Yet, my relief is short-lived as I compute what the man said about the Ails.
All the Colonels have one? Dammit. That means Weiss learned how to distribute them to weaker people, perhaps even better than I. I need Wyatt's angelic blood to sustain mine, and the vials within my suitcase will only last a month.
If all the Colonels have one... each Angel will probably have two. That will be the first piece of information put into the deaddrop. But... how will I get back out to deliver the information? I'll have to use a courier of some kind, I suppose.
Hopefully, Primary has those.
Before I step all the way past the counter, however, I pause, not letting them do it first. I twist my head and face the guard.
"Be sure to let him know that I'm here and waiting. Arnold Pilner. He'll know me."
I notice the guard's hand freeze in the air in the middle of heading to press some sort of button. Then, he nods toward me with a smile.
"Of course, Mr. Pilner. I'll let him know right away."
As I step through the guarded gates into Primary, the sheer magnitude of the renowned Onyxstone architecture envelops me. Every structure, formidable and dark, is a testament to the ingenuity of the First, who crafted this city with his hands. Onyxstone, or Onyx to the commonfolk, the fabled material that birthed the city's name, adorns each building, its abyssal black hue casting an imposing aura over the surroundings. Primary is where the man's hands touched. The rest of Onyx Gate was made long, long after his death. This, however, bears his genius.
The layout of Primary is a stark contrast to the city I left behind. Here, buildings are sparse, giving each structure room to breathe. The limited number of constructions, most no taller than two floors, only heightens the sense of isolation.
It's an enclave of miniature fortresses, with Onyxstone serving as both shield and facade due to its extreme toughness and durability despite its light weight. The vast spaces between each building make it clear that distance is both a luxury and a product of how difficult it is to dig up and mold the Onyx.
Navigating through the wide streets, I head towards the nearest open field beside the wall without any trees, a seemingly inconspicuous location that provides a momentary reprieve from the dark structures. Soon, I'll have to find a place to hide—time to get started. Opening my suitcase, I reveal the three vials, each containing a solitary eyeball suspended in a dark red liquid. The grotesque display only makes me move faster, grabbing the eye with a pupil of dirt.
Carefully, I examine the surroundings, ensuring no prying eyes witness the macabre contents of my suitcase. Then, I reach and take the one that I will be needing the most for the time being—Kiro's Dust.
Alongside Kiro's Dust, I grab a vial of Wyatt's blood. His angelic nature seems to be twice as potent as others due to Blodwyn, making his blood consume half as much for the same effect. And on the case of Wyatt, I've been investigating how to get his ability to loosen the chains of others to work to my advantage. I have a lot of thoughts, but I simply don't have the time to experiment with them. Perhaps, here, I'll have the time to think in between investigations. What if... No. I need to focus. But there is a chance he can hurry the process of advancing Sigils.
The absence of people in the immediate vicinity grants me a moment of secrecy, and I proceed with caution. My goal is clear, but the path to achieving it demands finesse and discretion.
At any moment, Eli could come out to find me. I need to be gone by then.
So, I dip the eye into the vial of Wyatt's blood as I force Ether into it and cut my own hand. Sanguine fluid falls onto the floating eye as I take control of it for a moment. This method of usage is something I only recently discovered with Wyatt's blood as his Vigor is so potent, but I reckon it should work with a Virtue or higher as well.
It does have a significant disadvantage, though. Once the blood that has dripped onto the eye dries, I lose control over the Ail. For now, however, it is better than putting it in my head. I need options. Like this, I can bear as many Powers from Angels as I have Ails made from them.
Closing my eyes, I contort the Ail, commanding it to work for me. I smile as I feel the dirt underneath my feet shift, sending me beneath the ground. Cool soil wraps around me like a coffin, even restricting my breathing. Regardless of the danger, I don't panic. Carefully, I control the eye, covering the top of the vial but keeping it in my shirt pocket. I shift through the dirt like it's water, heading toward the more central buildings.
Eli is least likely to think that someone would hide near the Harvey Estate. Arnold, were he to arrive, would just go up and see him. So, that old man is going to be confused as hell when he doesn't show up. Still, I doubt he'll think of the truth. I don't know what he'll reason this to be, but he is least likely to suppose it is me.
Once in the center of the city, I take advantage of the blood from Wyatt and explore Primary, searching for the Stairway. With it, we could enter the Underworld simply using the Death's Lantern instead of also finding a Crossroads.
Time quickly flies as I search, sadly to no avail, so I return to the center of Primary. But that's alright. Anytime I need to go beneath the surface, I'll continue my search. For now, however, I take another Ail, moving stiffly through the slight abode I made beneath the rocks.
Listening Gy, one of the other Ails from way back when is activated the same way as Kiro's Dust. Unlike it, though, this one is more passive. And... nonsensical.
I place the eye to the ceiling above me, and the vibrations above are revealed to me. Whoever or whatever had this eye, probably not a human by its larger-than-normal size, saw through vibrations and sound, not light.
And so, I sit quietly as I gather data, using my other hand to prepare for the final Ail. Skinless Pupil. I've been meticulous in concealing this one from everyone, knowing how vital this could potentially be. The less who know about an Ail like this, the better. And sure, these things come from Eli, but I've done a thousand checks, a thousand guarantees.
These Ails were not placed with any backdoors or loopholes. Not even blatant weaknesses. Weiss had to put decoys amongst the genuine threat, Deux.
Skinless Pupil, however is special, so so very special.
It comes straight from a Skinwalker, one of the rarest kinds of demons.
I can look like anyone I desire and shape my flesh to match or mirror any person. It even allows me to change my height and weight, just not too much. There are ways to test if someone is a Skinwalker, but I doubt it will work through this, as it is simply something that tests if someone has human blood or not, which I do.
It's perfect for this and one of the reasons why I was so willing. Not even Elizabeth knows I have this.
A secret can only be guaranteed if no one knows it. Still, I do wish I had told them. Nevertheless, it is better to be safe than sorry.
The flesh on my arm ripples and molds as I listen to those above, viewing their bodies as the vibrations in the earth. In only a moment, I spot a man who appears to have some kind of status in Primary.
And in only a scant few seconds, I look, feel, and speak identically to him.
