I did some soul searching, and decided this wasn't really a crossover, per se. So I moved it here, to the main section. No Stormlight Archive knowledge is required to enjoy this story. Don't forget to review!
[x]
I never saw the bus that killed me. I suppose that shouldn't really come as a surprise, most people don't see whatever it is that gets them in the end. In any case, as I felt my body impact on the sidewalk, I could literally feel myself dying, my consciousness slipping out of my reach.
And with that, I died. It was a bit like falling asleep, actually, with a sort of distant terror added in that I was too busy dying to notice.
Then I felt myself floating. I opened my eyes, and immediately screwed them shut again against the brightness. It was overwhelming.
"In my defense, by brother was a douchebag." I said.
If it were time for your judgement. A Voice said. It would be you who would be weighed, not those around you. But that is not now.
"Come again?" I said, not really thinking about how I could talk.
You were not supposed to die there. The Voice continued. You have a choice. I could return you to your life, just as you were, or I could make you a hero.
"What do you mean, make me a hero?" I asked. That sounded... intriguing.
Exactly what it sounds like. You will be granted power, and sent to right a great wrong. There will be great danger, and if you fall, I cannot save you again. But you may earn great glory.
"Sign me up." I said.
Because really, what choice was there? I could be a boring, mediocre person, or I could be a hero. My life sucked enough as it was, but as a hero, those problems might have some meaning.
Are you sure? The Voice asked. Once you set off down this path, there is not turning back.
"I'm sure." I said.
Very well. It is done. Now, a hero must have power. What is your... Ah, I see. The Stormlight Archives. And excellent choice. You will begin immediately.
"What, what about the Stormlight Archives?" I said.
Oh, and one last thing. The world you will be saving? It isn't exactly Earth, or at least not as you know it.
"I-"
Everything went black. And yes, even with my eyes close, I could tell.
[x]
Time passed. I had no standard by which to measure how much.
[x]
I was floating in darkness. Eventually, it occurred to me to open my eyes. A point of light floated in front of me. I tilted my head.
"Hello?" The point of light said.
"Hello." I responded.
"Oh, good. You're awake." The light said. "I'm Sorilda. Pleased to meet you."
"Ok. I said." What's going on? I mean, do you know?"
"We're in transit." Sorilda said. "Between two worlds."
"That's... Weird." I said. "But given the way my day's been going, not entry unexpected."
"What do you mean?" Sorilda asked, bouncing slightly in midair.
"Well, first I get hit by a bus, and now I find out that I'm being sent... Somewhere, and I might never see my friends and family again."
"Oh..." Sorilda said, drifting slightly to the side. "Well, you have me now, right?"
"What do you mean?" I said.
"Well, I'm your Sovereignspren" Sorilda said.
"Wait." I said. "Does this make me a Radiant? Or a Surgebinder, anyways?"
"It makes you a Surgebinder." Sorilda said. "There is more to being a Radiant than simply bonding a Spren, though if you've managed to make a Nahel Bond, you probably don't have far to go."
"That might be a problem." I said.
"What do you mean?" Sorilda asked.
"I'm not exactly the most Integrity-full of people."
"Is that even a word?" Sorilda said. I got the distinct impression she was muttering. "In any case, you better shape up fast. I've got everything riding on you."
At that moment, I felt a sudden sensation of slowing down. I looked towards my feet, and spotted a light rushing towards me. Instants later, I impacted. Light filled my vision.
As I blinked to clear my eyes, I looked around. I was standing on concrete, with brick buildings rising up on either side of me. There was a dumpster in front of me, and as I looked around, a car drove past the street in front of me.
I was in a dark alley. And it was oddly cold. I looked down at myself.
I was naked.
Typical. Just the way my day was going.
A point of light appeared in the air next to me, and Sorilda appeared in the air next to me. She appeared like a flame rising from an invisible candle. He from was that of a tiny young woman made of orange light, flickering like she was made out of fire. The second she appeared, she recoiled, covering her eyes in what appeared to be exaggerated horror.
"No one needs to see that!" Sorilda said in a strange stage voice. "Here, wear this."
A strange warmth enveloped me, and I felt a strange sense of constriction, and a light shined around me. I looked around, and I felt something settle over my head. My vision blacked out for a second, and then I was looking at the world as through a plate of glass.
I looked down at myself. I was covered in intricate plate armor, with no gaps, only smaller plates that interlocked perfectly. It took a step forward, and nearly tripped. Strength pulsed through my limbs, and I felt incredible.
"Is this Shardplate?" I asked, looking down at my arms.
"Yup." Sorilda said, her voice echoing in my head, though her from in front of me hadn't vanished.
"Awesome." I said. "I think."
"Oh." Sorilda said. "You might want this, too."
I felt a sudden surge of energy through my body, above and beyond that granted by my Shardplate. It felt like a storm injected into my blood.
Stormlight.
"How are you doing this?" I asked, bewildered. "Spren can't grant their Radiants Stormlight."
Sorilda shrugged. "I don't know. Why do you think I would?"
I shook my head, my Shardplate not restricting my movement in the slightest.
"I forgot how today was going." I said. "In any case-"
A scream split the sounds of the city. It was a primal sound of fear, absolute terror. And it was close.
"What was that?" I muttered.
"I think that's obvious." Sorilda said, her from flickering. "The question is, what are you going to do about it?"
"What am I going to do about it?" I said. "Why me?"
"You're a Knight Radiant." Sorilda said. "You know your ideals."
"Life before death, strength before weakness, journey before destination." I muttered. "And I will protect those who cannot protect themselves."
Sorilda smiled.
I took off running deeper into the alley, towards the source of the screams. My legs moved like pistons, Stormlight and Shardplate-granted strength surging through them. I reached the end of the alley in a heartbeat, nearly running into the wall.
Pivoting at the last second, I turned and ran down into the alley, heartbeats thundering in my chest, though I didn't feel the slightest bit tired.
I turned again, and I came into an open space between buildings. Three figures stood there, with two more prone on the ground. As I looked closer, it appeared the figures on the ground were lying in pools of dark fluid.
The Alley space was poorly lit by moonlight, but I could make out the vicious expressions on the face of one of the standing men as he turned toward me.
I could also see his eyes.
They were horrifying.
The sclera of the eye was completely black, and the pupil and iris were blood red, seeming to glow with their own inner light. The second man, and one woman, standing over the body also turned towards me, displaying their own identical, horrifying eyes.
The woman's tongue slid out of her mouth and wet her lips.
"What have we here..." She muttered. "A cosplayer, barging in on our meal. How rude."
I took a step back, the Stormlight in my blood warring with the fear in my mind.
"You can do this." Sorilda said. "You can fight them. Hold out your hand."
I did so, holding my hand out to the side, trying to hold back the fear in my mind. A cloud of mist appeared over my hand, and a massive sword, a monstrosity with a blade more than five feet long, appeared, and fell into my hand.
It felt perfect. It was my Shardblade, made perfect for me. I swung it in front of me experimentally. It felt like it weighed little more than a feather. It looked like flowing flames frozen into metal, intricate patterns smoothing out into a blade on one edge and into a series of ridges on the other.
"You think a little knife scares us?" The woman said, gesturing to one of the men standing next to her. "Get him."
One of the men rushed towards me with superhuman speed. The world seemed to slow down as the man approached, and I swung my Shardblade towards him.
He ran right into it. The edge of the blade misted as it cut through him, and I felt a slight tug on the handle.
The man didn't stop.
What the hell? Shardblades were supposed to be a one-hit kill. As I recovered from my swing, the man seemed to flinch, then he kept coming.
The man slammed into me, knocking me backwards with far more than human strength. I was wearing Shardplate; this man shouldn't have been able to knock be back so easily.
As I impacted the ground, I felt tiny clouds of Stormlight puff out of the shoulders of my armor. The man was on top of me, sitting on my chest. But as he raised a fist to slam into me, I sat up, Stormlight driving me to act, easily dislodging him with my Shardplate and Stormlight enhanced strength.
As he slid off my body, I raised my Shardblade and swung again, aiming for the neck of the recovering and surprised man.
This time, as the blade swung through the man's neck, tendrils of smoke rose from his eyes and he slumped, eyes burned out by my Shardblade.
I looked back at the woman as I sprang to my feet. Her hideous eyes widened, and red tentacles burst from her back.
What the hell?
As the woman's blood red tentacles shot towards me, I raised my Shardblade to what I assumed was a guard position. The Stormlight flowing through my body screamed for me to attack, but I held my ground.
The first tentacle came at me from the side, trying to wrap around me. I brought my Shardblade down in a chop and, clumsy though the attack was, I moved with the speed of Stormlight. The Shardblade passed through the tentacle. The length of the tentacle below where I hit turned grey and seemed to shrivel.
I heard something and, a second later, another tentacle slammed into my back. I could distinctly feel the impact on my Shardplate, and as I stumbled back, Sorilda appeared before me, seeming to burn into existence in front of my face.
"Use your lashings!" She said.
"How do I do that?" I muttered, whirling around and chopping at the tentacle with my Shardblade.
"Command the Stormlight, and it will obey." Sorilda said.
"Great." I muttered, dashing over to the wall nearest me. I stabbed my Shardblade into the wall and began to cut. Moments later, I had a massive chunk of concrete taller than I was cut out of the wall, its bottom shaped to cause it to slide out onto the ground.
As the chunk of concrete fell, I jumped behind it to dodge another tentacle strike, then rested my gauntleted hand on it.
"Basic lashing." I muttered, willing the Stormlight out of my body and into the rock. "Two gravities."
I set the lashing straight outward, toward the female with the tentacles. The chunk of rock shot out toward the woman, who drew back her tentacles to try to stop if from slamming into her, to no avail.
As the chunk of concrete 'fell' into the woman and kept moving, I spun around, raising my Shardblade towards the last man standing. He growled, his freaky eyes narrowing, and charged me, tentacles bursting from his back.
He covered the distance between us insanely quickly, four tentacles coming at me at once. I swum my Shardblade in a circle, slaying the tips of the tentacles, but inertia kept them coming at me.
The dead tips of the tentacles sort of splatted as they impacted my Shardplate, but then the living section of the tentacles connected, and they hit hard. I could feel my Shardplate crack under the assault as the tentacles began to slide around my body.
What was going on here? What were these people? And why had they attacked me? What was I going to do?
Focusing all my strength, I surged forward, sliding out of the grip of the tentacles for a second and freeing my sword hand. I swung, striking one of the tentacles right where it came out from behind the man's shoulder.
As the tentacle's bloody color faded, the man slammed into me with insane force, pushing me back.
I managed to stay on my feet as the man recovered from his slam, and I swung my Shardblade in a one-handed swing towards the man's neck. Clearly not too smart, he raised a hand to block the blade.
The Shardblade passed clean through his hand, though I felt a bit more resistance than usual as I pulled it through. The blade continued through the air for a moment, then it took the man in the base of the head.
I felt a lot more resistance this time as I pulled the Shardblade through my attacker's skull. He stumbled backwards, thin tendrils of smoke rising from his eyes.
Then the man fell to the ground, tentacles going slack. I looked around, spotting the two bodies on the group over near where I had found my attackers.
Slowly, I walked over to them, not vanishing my Shardblade. I knelt down beside one of the bodies.
It was a woman, lying in a pool of her own blood, and she was very dead. Bites had been taken out of her body, and her neck appeared to be broken.
I nearly threw up. Had Stormlight not still been surging through my body, I probably would have. As it was, I felt sick. What were those people doing? Were they eating this body? What was going on?
"Stop right there!" A clear male voice said. "Drop the sword, take off your helmet, and get down on your knees!"
I turned around slowly, being careful not to make any sudden moves. I bent over and laid my Shardblade on the ground, then reached up to remove my helmet. Before my fingers touched it, it vanished. I could suddenly feel the cold night air on my skin, which I realized was slick with sweat.
I put my hands behind my head and knelt down, then took a long look at the man in front of me.
He was an older man, slightly balding, and wearing an immaculate suit. He was pointing a pistol at me with his left hand, and carried a sword in his right. He wore a badge I recognized as the star in a circle of the U.S. Marshals on his chest.
"Sir... what's going on here?" I said slowly, still trying to process what was going on. "I was just-"
"That's what I aim to find out." The man said. "Now, I have one question for you. Are you Ghoul or Human?"
"What the... Of course I'm human!" I said, confused. "What the hell is a Ghoul?"
"Well, you'd say you're human, I suppose." The man said. "But you have impressive control over your Kakugan if you can turn your eyes back to normal after using your Kagune."
I shook my head. I hoped that I had used enough Stormlight in the fight that I wasn't glowing. "What the hell is a Kakugan, or a Kagune?" I said.
"Here's what we're going to do." The man said, gesturing with his sword. "I have backup that's about to get here. You're going to stay right where you are until they do, and then I'm taking you black to the Branch Office."
"Yes, officer." I said slowly.
Cooperating with the authority was probably for the best, at least for now. I'd never been the sort of person to distrust authority, and I didn't have enough information to make a judgment
Or I suppose that's what I was thinking. In the moment, I wasn't able to do much in the way of rational thought. Maybe I just didn't want to fight anymore.
"I'm a Marshal, not an officer." The man said.
"What have I done wrong?" I said. "I thought the Marshals only went after fugitives from justice and enforced court orders."
The man stared back at me with a blank look on his face. "Sure, we do some of that on the side." He said. "But everyone knows what our primary job is."
"And what is that?" I said.
"Protecting the populace from Ghouls." The man said, still staring at me with an incredulous look on his face. "How do you not know that?"
"What's a Ghoul?" I asked.
"How can you not know what a Ghoul is?" The man said.
As I was trying to formulate a response, two more men in suits with handguns out ran down the alley into the space where the Marshal and I were standing.
"Sir, the heavy response team is here... What happened here, sir?" One of the men said, looking around the space.
"Three ghouls, two victims, and one unknown." The Marshal responded sharply. "The unknown eliminated the ghouls, but I'm taking him back to base for questioning."
He turned to face me. "You're coming with us." He said. "Right this way."
"You lead the way, sir." I said.
One of the men in suits led me down the alleyway, with another of them behind me, and the Marshal taking up the rear. I could feel their guns pointed at me.
When we got to the street, a large white truck like the sort you might hire when moving house sat next to mouth of the alleyway, surrounded by men in full riot gear. The suited man leading me pointed to the open back of the truck, and I climbed in and sat down on a rack.
As the back of the truck closed, cutting off the light from outside, I looked down at my hands.
What was going on?
I had killed people. That much was for sure. They were trying to kill me at the time, but I had still ended their lives.
But were they even human? Two of them had grown tentacles, and their eyes were... haunting.
Oh, and they were apparently eating people. There was that.
But what was going on? Why was I a Knight Radiant, and how had I gotten here? Where was here, anyway?
I paused, mentally pushing back on my panic. I needed to start with what I knew.
The Knights Radiant were an apparently fictional group of warriors of exceptional character from a book I had read, The Way of Kings, that bonded with Spren like Sorilda to grant the Spren sentience and gain superhuman powers. There Spren could manifest into the world as Shardblades and Shardplate, and they could use Stormlight to control forces called Surges to create magical effects, like controlling gravity.
Now onto what was wrong. For one thing, I wasn't of exceptional character. I was just... average. So why was I a Radiant?
Second, where had my Stormlight come from? Radiants needed to inhale Stormlight from gemstones infused with it during Highstorms to improve their battle abilities and use Surgebinding. I had done neither. So what was the deal with that?
And lastly, these Ghouls. From what the Marshal had said, I suppose that's what they were. Tentacled monsters that ate people. Disgusting.
I clenched one of my armored hands into a fist. Life before death, strength before weakness, journey before destination. That was the ideal I was bound to now, if I didn't want to kill Sorilda. And I think I knew what that meant.
Speak of the devil and she shall appear. Sorilda appeared in the air next to me, burning into existence.
"I've been taking a look around, and these guys are pretty serious." She said. "They're well-armed, and there weapons are pretty wired, too. They're dead."
"What do you mean?" I asked, glancing at Sorilda.
"I don't know." She said. "But that's the feeling I get from them. So, have you decided what you're going to do?"
"I don't know." I said. "I think I need to find out more about what's going on before I can make a decision."
As I spoke, I could feel the truck slow to a stop, then move slowly forward for a short distance, then stop again.
A few seconds later, the back of the truck opened, and the face of the older Marshal I had seen appeared.
"Come on, kid." He said. "You can come out now. We've got twenty guards with Q Bullets out here, and three snipers, so don't try anything. We're just going to take a little blood, and find out if you're a Ghoul."
I raised my hands over my head and walked toward the edge of the truck. The Marshal took a step back as I approached the edge and hopped down.
The back of the truck was surrounded by men in combat gear, all of them pointing assault rifles at me.
"Let's play nice, boys." The Marshal said. "Now, if you would follow me?"
The Marshal turned and started walking toward a building. I looked around. The building was surrounded by a wall at least twenty feet tall and topped with razor wire. Guard towers rose at regular intervals, and a squat concrete building rested in the center.
As I walked toward the building, which was built like a bunker, I wondered why the Marshals needed such a fortified base.
We walked into a door at the base of the building. Two of the men with assault rifles entered behind me. The Marshal sheathed his sword and picked up a small box from a shelf and removed an oblong object.
"If you could remove your glove?" He said.
I nodded, and willed my glove not to be.
Much to my surprise, it vanished. Sorilda appeared in the corner of my eye and smiled.
"Alright." The marshal said. "This might sting a bit."
He pushed the oblong object against my finger, and I felt a prickling sensation. It remained in contact for several seconds, then beeped.
The Marshal returned the oblong object to the box, then packaged the whole thing up in a tube, with rounded ends. "I'll just send this off to the lab." He said. "In the meantime, I'm taking you down to Holding Area One. Would you like something to eat?"
I thought back to the chewed-on corpse of the woman in that alley. "I don't think I'm hungry." I said.
"I'd advise you to eat." The Marshal said, as he opened a door to a staircase. "It would make us more inclined to trust you. Ghouls can't eat human food, after all."
"Oh." I said, as we began to descend. "Well, what do you have?"
"The food here is pretty good." The Marshal said. "I think we like to rub in the fact that we can enjoy it and they can't."
I chuckled. It felt good to do that. I had seen too much shit today.
We descended several flights of stairs, eventually coming to a heavy door. The agent pressed his palm against a scanner and entered a passcode. The door beeped, and he opened it.
"So." I said, stepping into the door. "What is a Ghoul?"
"You're really going to play not knowing?" The Marshal said.
I looked around the room I was in. It looked a bit like a hospital room crossed with an apartment, with a bed surrounded my complex looking machinery, and a door leading to what I assumed was a bathroom. There were a pair of prominent cameras hanging from the ceiling, and a few chairs around a table opposite the bed.
The Marshal sat down at the table and reached into his pocket and removed a small device. He pressed a button and a screen lowered from the ceiling near the chairs. A projector activated, lighting up the screen.
"I suppose I can show you the orientation video while we wait for the bloodwork to come back." The Marshal said. "By the way, I'm Marshal Phil Chandler. Pleasure to meet you. You know, probably."
A counter surrounded by a disappearing circle appeared on the center of the screen in grayscale, like you see at old-timey movies. It vanished, and was replaced by grayscale footage of smiling crowds.
"Ghouls." A stereotypical narrator voice said, echoing from hidden speakers. "The enemies of humanity. They lurk among us. Anyone, at any time, could be a Ghoul."
Abruptly, the crowds vanished, to be replaced with a full-color HD shot of dismembered bodies and blood. I recoiled in horror at the image.
"And this is their handiwork." The narrator said. "This is what Ghouls are, and this is what we of the United States Federal Marshals seek to prevent."
The shot of dismembered bodies switched to an image of the Vitruvian Man, da Vinci's image of a man standing in a square and a circle.
"You may think that this is a human male." The narrator said. "But you would be wrong. This is an Adult Ghoul Male, fully capable of killing and feeding on Humans. Let's not the primary differences."
A line appeared pointing to the Ghoul's stomach. "Due to unique structures present in the digestive tract of a Ghoul, as well as certain enzymes produced by all ghouls, they are unable to metabolize anything but Human flesh. Anything else, even the chemically similar pork or veal, will not satisfy their hunger, and indeed will trigger violent nausea and, if digested, create serious health complications, potentially leading to death."
Another line appeared, pointing at the Ghoul's mouth. "The tongue structures of a Ghoul differ from those of a Human, causing most substances edible to humans to taste disgusting to a Ghoul. Combined with their inability to digest food, the reactions of a suspect eating can be used to reveal if they are a Ghoul. Ghouls might eat human food, but must vomit it up soon after."
That was... Perfectly disgusting. As I kept watching, more lines appeared, pointing at the Ghoul's arms and legs.
"Ghouls have a musculature radically different from that of humans. Their muscular structure grants then sufficient strength to disembowel a human with their bare hands, and to send a human being 'ragdolling' with a moderate level of exertion. In addition, their skin is extremely resilient, with a hardness value exceeding thirty when measured by a Sclerometer. Despite this, their skin remains perfectly flexible and is indistinguishable from that of a human to casual inspection."
Thirty... was that a lot? And how did they manage to still move around with skin that hard?
A cartoonish image of a bullet appeared at the edge of the screen, moved rather slowly toward the Ghoul's head, bounced off, and fell of the bottom of the screen.
"The hardened skin of a Ghoul, combines with their extremely reinforced musculature system, grants Ghouls considerable resistance to conventional firearms, though high-caliber, high velocity rounds, partially Armor Piercing ammunition, will have some effect. Given that blood must still circulate through a Ghoul's body, gross damage to the surface of the body can cause death by blood loss, though given the considerable regenerative ability of a Ghoul, this method is inefficient."
Well, a Shardblade seemed to kill them dead enough. I wondered how the people here managed to deal with Ghouls if guns were less than effective.
"Then how, you might ask, are you expected to face Ghouls?" The narrator said.
He read my mind.
"The answer lies in the same thing that grants Ghouls there considerable physical ability; Red Child cells. So named because they resemble tiny, blood red embryos, Red Child, or Rc Cells, grant Ghouls their core advantage over Humans."
An image of a sword appeared on the screen. "However, Rc Cells can be fashioned into Quinque Steel, an extremely resilient material capable of penetrating the skin of a Ghoul. So named for the five molecular bonds present in its crystalline structure, Quinque steel also possess a unique electromagnetic field that impedes the action of Rc Cells that protects Ghouls from kinetic impacts, allowing a normal Human to inflight tissue damage while in combat with a Ghoul."
That was creepy. Fashioning stuff you took from the corpses of your enemies into the weapons you used to fight them.
"While some high-level agents carry melee weapons fashioned from high-grade Quinque steel for close quarters combat with Ghouls, this should be considered a last resort, but it is possible. Preferred tactics for Ghoul Elimination are long-ranged precision gunfire using Quinque bullets, preferable in an isolated area to avoid disturbing the peace."
The orientation video continued into the scientific theories for why Ghouls were the way they were, but it was all talking around the issue that, despite their ability to use Rc Cells to make Quinque Steel, Marshal scientists had no answers to many of the questions surrounding Ghouls.
What a comforting thought.
As the projector died and the screen scrolled back up into the ceiling. Marshal Chandler cleared his throat.
"So, that is what were are facing." He said, looking down at the sword on his hip. "My sword is a high-grade Quinque, and I have killed dozens of ghouls with it."
He gave me a serious look. "But that isn't enough. We're outnumbered and outmatched. There are hundreds of full Marshals in the country, and tens of thousands of Deputies, Field Agents, and others, but only a fraction of us are front-line personnel. And we estimate that there are between three hundred thousand and half a million Ghouls living within the borders of the United States."
"That's... A lot." I said.
"Look. You're bloodwork hasn't come back yet, but I'd be shocked if you're a Ghoul. I have a sense for these things, and I'm rarely wrong." Marshal Chandler said gravely, looking me in the eye. "We're fighting a war, son."
I nodded.
"And we're losing."
"What?" I said. "But, I mean, how is that possible? Wouldn't civilization collapse?"
"I said we're losing, not that we lost." Marshal Chandler said. "He's the deal. Ghouls have a much lower birth rate than Humans. That's a fact. But since the end of the Baby Boom, human birth rates have been declining due to cultural and social factors."
"Okay..." I said.
"But the Ghouls have kept their birth rates high. Combined with the fact that we're still digging the out the Ghouls who integrated themselves into our society during WWII, there are more Ghouls per humans in this country than there have been at just about any time in history. Probably. Ghoul history is spotty at best."
I took a deep breath. "What are the numbers?"
"What do you mean?" Marshal Chandler said.
"How many people get eaten each year?" I asked.
"We don't know." Chandler said. "But we do know that Ghouls need to feed every six weeks or so, but not every one of those feedings is going to be a murder. There is a whole black market for corpses, and it's sort of an open secret that we don't do anything about it. But taking all that into account, we estimate that there are around two point five Ghoul-related murders every year in this nation alone."
My jaw dropped. "That many?"
"Our annual losses to Ghouls are more than all our WWII combat deaths." Chandler said. "We suppress the numbers, but everyone has a cousin or an uncle that got eaten by a Ghoul, and too many have lost mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters."
I realized that he was gripping the armrest of the chair, his knuckles going white. He was serious about this. And I should be too. Two and a half million. That was unbelievable. I suppose it was true. A million was a statistic. I was having trouble processing the numbers.
"What can I do?" I asked.
Life before Death.
"You can fight, I know that." Chandler said. "Judging by the way you moved, you aren't trained, but you just took down three Ghouls at once. Do you have any idea how rare that is?"
"No." I said. "Though I assume that it's fairly uncommon."
"Very." Chandler said. "The point is, with training, I think you could be a match for some of the worst Ghouls out there. And we need that sort of mobile strike power. Often, we get shots at high-value targets, but they slip away before we can assemble the sort of strike force we would need to take them down. But with that sword, I think you could great things."
The door of the containment room beeped, and a man in a black lab coat walked in, holding a piece of paper. "The test results are in. He has an Rc Factor of 465. A little on the high side, but well within the Human norm, and far below the minimum threshold for a Ghoul."
Chandler turned to glance at me. "See, what did I tell you? You're human. Now, I'd like to make you a formal offer to join the Marshals as a deputy."
I took a deep breath. Sorilda appeared, hovering just above Chandler's shoulder. I glanced at her. I had to consider what was right by the Immortal Words of the Radiants, and what was right would be to help stem the tide of blood that was drowning this world.
Besides, it wasn't like I had anywhere else to go.
"I accept." I said. "I would be delighted to join your quest."
"Very well." Chandler said. "I had hoped for nothing less. But before we do anything else, you're going to have to explain to me everything you know about your power, because it's clearly not a Kagune."
"Well." I began. "I'm what you might call a probationary member of an order called the Knights Radiant, a group of Knights bonded to ethereal creatures called Spren to gain a power called Surgebinding. They er, we, can also manifest blades called Shardblades, which you saw me use back in the alley."
"I did." Chandler said. "Judging by the name, I assume it's more than just a sword?"
"A Shardblade can cut through anything that isn't alive with virtually no resistance, and kill anything living thing it cuts with as much difficulty." I said "Cut a limb and its dead. Swing a Shardblade through the spine or a major organ cluster and the target is dead."
"And what about that armor you're wearing?"
It's Shardplate." I said, rapping a knuckle on my breastplate. "Shardplate can stop a Shardblade, as well as just about anything else, more effectively than most other materials of a similar thickness, and also grants its wearer a massive boost to strength, stamina, and speed."
"Amazing." Chandler said. "This could be just the break we were looking for. Increased speed and strength... Enough to match a Ghoul... and a Weapon that surpasses a Quinque. Son, it is with unspeakable pride that I deputize you as a Deputy-Private Second Class of the United States Marshals. Now, tell me about this Surgebinding. I saw you throw a chunk of concrete at that Ghoul. What is it, some form of telekinesis?"
"Not exactly." I said. "I manipulated gravity."
"You're shitting me." Chandler said flatly.
"No." I said. "I changed gravity for that block of concrete so 'down' for it was towards that Ghoul. Sir Isaac Newton did the rest."
"Wow." He said. "Could you just have changed gravity the ghouls so down for them was up into space?"
Sorilda shook her head. "No." She stage-whispered. "You can't Lash an unwilling target like that."
"No." I said. "Something has to be dead or inert for me to Lash it, to change gravity for it."
"I see." Chandler said, raising his hand to his chin. "Can you fly?"
"With practice." I said.
"How fast?" Chandler said, leaning forward in his chair. "I mean, flying is pretty awesome, so..."
"Well," I said, "With one Lashing, I could reach terminal velocity. That's around two hundred miles an hour or so. With multiple Lashings, I could get a lot faster, but then my reaction speed starts to become a concern. Though I suppose that Stormlight speeds that up and cushions the impacts, so... Not as fast as a Jet, but pretty fast."
"This could be huge." Chandler said. He looked like a little boy on Christmas morning. "I'll show you to one of the guest rooms. You get a good night's sleep; your training starts in the morning. Until then, stay shiny, you magnificent bastard."
[x]
I lay in the bed that was provided for me by the Marshals. I had vanished my Shardplate and changed into the provided standard-issue pajamas, then taken a shower and gone to bed. I hadn't seen Sorilda since I joined the Marshals.
And I couldn't sleep.
I had killed today. Sure, they were Ghouls, but I had still ended sentient lives.
But I was protecting those who couldn't protect themselves. I had to hold onto that. Those Ghouls were murders who needed to be put down, and that's what I had done.
However, I had just signed on to the largest Ghoul-hunting outfit in North America. Odds were excellent that, assuming I wasn't killed in action, I would kill again. Honestly, I wasn't sure how I felt about that.
More importantly, I was stranded in a strange world with over ten million deadly predators who could only subsist off of human flesh. I had been sent here by dying, so there was no reason to believe that there would be a way home
And I would never see my family again. Or my friends, or even the various people I didn't partially like. I would never see any of them again.
I sighed. There was nothing that I could do, but I just couldn't let go of the issue.
Slowly, I slipped off into a fitful sleep.
[x]
I was awakened by a bucket of ice water to the face.
"MORNING, MAGGOT!" A rough voice shouted. "I WANT YOU UP AND DRESSED IN SIXTY SECONDS. GO GO GO! THIS COULD BE A GHOUL ATTACK!"