PaulM, man, if you are still out there… Thank you so much for sticking with this story for so long, despite my hiatuses! I am so grateful for your continued support.

My deepest apologizes for the long break. I will do my best to break out of this valley, cupcakes!

If you'd like to see sketches, ideas, heads up for chapters, or if you have a question for me or for a character, check out the blog here:

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Chapter 65

Tyrael had to come clean, he had really not liked Lyndon in the past.

The man was too loud, too cocky, too much of a hedonist and a womanizer. His complete disregard for others' property and for any kind of honor in general was really hard for the Archangel of Justice to bear, and he could not for the life of him understand why Johanna had brought the scoundrel along. As their adventure progressed, thankfully Lyndon did too – he finally realized what was at stake, just how inappropriate his hunger for riches or for women were in most cases, and he actually reached a stage where he put the world's survival before his own. Tyrael could almost start to respect the man… that is until the scoundrel appeared on his door step with Inarius. That had been a massive low point, and Tyrael abandoned all hope he had had for the man in that instant. That sunk even lower when it turned out Lyndon had accidentally taught Quiet how to pickpocket people. But then, eventually Tyrael gave more thought to what he had seen from the scoundrel in their brief time together in Westmarch – the man's genuine love, caring and protection for the noteling, his lack of hesitation to stare down any who would dare threaten Quiet, those were all admirable qualities. Tyrael had thought that perhaps the form of a hero was glimmering within the scoundrel's hopelessly derailed life. Now the mortal angel realized just how wrong he had been. Because that hero wasn't glimmering.

That hero was out in the front, in full glory, flying straight into Johanna's face with both feet and sending her flying.

The Nephalem disappeared among the ruins of the Cathedral with an enraged shriek. Lyndon did a flip mid-air and kicked Kormac in his oversized shoulder plate, sending the man tumbling to the ground as well.

- Papa! – Quiet shouted, stretching out his arms toward their savior.

Lyndon landed, and he stared at the small angel with honest surprise. Tyrael, however, noticed the terrible danger behind him.

- GEM! – he shouted, realizing a split-second too late just how unhelpful that was.

The possessed Shen sent a bigger ruby flying like an arrow, straight at the man's head. However, the projectile found nothing but air. Lyndon disappeared from his spot just before contact, and reappeared behind the old jeweler, kicking him in the back and sending him to the ground as well. Apparently he had managed to master his teleportation since last time.

- Missed me, my dear band of heroes?! – Lyndon shouted, opening his arms wide.

- You! – Kormac jumped to his feet, brandishing his javelin.

He was ready to throw it at the scoundrel, but Tyrael grabbed the wooden shaft and yanked it backward with as much force as he could muster. His battle reflexes thankfully woke up, and he wasted little energy wondering just where the hell their savior appeared from. Kormac stumbled back, the mortal angel could barely get out of the way in time.

- I'm sorry, Kormac! – he shouted.

By Quiet's angry command and roots burst out of the ground, pulling the ex-templar back further.

- Quiet! – Lyndon made a move towards his charge.

Shen grabbed him by the leg and flung him with superhuman strength, straight a barely pillar. The scoundrel disappeared just before he could hit the stone and possibly die, and teleported behind the column, twisting around mid-air and landing on his feet like a cat.

- BAD MAN, DO NOT HURT MY PAPA! – Quiet roared like thunder, stomping the ground.

A massive lump of ground, loosely in the form of a fist, barreled towards the old man. Some kind of wave flew past Tyrael's ear, the horrible emptiness of it smacked him across the face. It washed over the ground fist which immediately crumbled before it could reach its target.

- LYYYNDONNNN! – Johanna howled, stomping out from among the ruins, flinging her incomplete flail.

She was absolutely livid, her eyes blazing yellow, her hair waving like she was standing in strong wind, when the air did not even move. Her armored boots left small cracks in the ground wherever she stomped. Tyrael personally found the sight absolutely terrifying, especially when he realized that wave of emptiness had originated from her. He was busy dragging Quiet away, out from among their three adversaries. Unfortunately, that meant he was putting more distance between themselves and Lyndon as well, but the scoundrel glanced at them briefly, mouthing "Go". He then turned his attention back at the woman, looking as suicidal cocky as humanly possible – and damn, he was good at it.

Tyrael had to yank Quiet up from the ground and cover his mouth before the child could scream for his papa.

- He is going to be fine – he whispered. – He is drawing attention away from us! We must go!

There was no cover on Solum whatsoever. Their only hope was to make a break for it and run like they have never run before.

- You just exist to ruin everything, don't you, Lyndon?! – Johanna bared her teeth at their new opponent.

- Why, yes, yes I do! – the scoundrel suddenly perked up with green-lit eyes and a huge grin, that was almost comically unfitting for the deadly danger he was in. – And now I have friends to ruin things together with!

The ground exploded under them, sending everyone flying back. Lyndon jumped away from the spot a fraction of a second to spare. Lumps of earth and pebbles rained down on Tyrael who almost fell over his own legs at the sight.

Ashava came crashing down onto the remnants of the Cathedral of Light, in all of her boney, poisonous, terrible glory. Her armor was healed, and so were her two massive scythes on her ankles. Her slimy fleshy head-tentacles flapped around her skull snout. Tyrael honestly could not imagine a more beautiful sight in that moment, he forgot to actually run for it. Johanna rolled over her head and recovered quickly behind the demoness, readying her flail. Tyrael almost threw El'druin at her to stop her. But then out of literally nowhere, a massive chicken leg materialized on the Crusader's right and delivered an incredible kick into the woman, sending her flying for a good twenty or so meters.

In the middle of the chaos, new opponents exploded into view. Tyrael immediately recognized Izba in the afternoon light, towering over the battlefield, shrieking like a banshee and stomping around. In her open door, Adenah in her real demon form was shaking a spear:

- GOOD DAY TO YOU ALL, YOU FUCKING BASTARDS!

Next to them stood a random old peasant in a straw hat, who had absolutely no business in a fight.

- GIVE ME BACK MY BODY, YOU FAILURE OF THE ALLFATHER! – he roared at Shen.

Tyrael remembered they should run. He didn't know where all these people came from, but he realized they were all here to cover for them, facing off the strongest being in all of Creation to achieve that.

- Papa! – Quiet managed to shout in a muffled voice from his arms.

He tried to squirm his way out, but Tyrael was holding him firmly. The mortal angel turned around to run, but he saw something shiny from the corner of his eye. As he spun around, he crouched down, balancing on one foot practically. Above his head, a shining ethereal hammer zoomed by, just barely missing its target. A horrible cold erupted into his back, flinging him forward and paralyzing him. Tyrael gasped for air as he struggled onto his back. He distantly heard Quiet shouting his name, and he thought he saw the glimmer of wicked sickles above his head. He tried to fight the cold but it was stubbornly clinging to his muscles. Besides him, Quiet tried to initiate attacks against the advancing Johanna but she negated all of them with the same empty power. The little angel stumbled back in his fear but refused to leave the side of his fallen friend.

Izba stampeded towards Johanna with a sky-shattering screech, but the burning flails effortlessly racked her legs, causing her to stumble and fall, dragging the screaming Adenah with her. Ashava quickly followed, however. She spun around, damn near cutting Shen in two with her scythe, and she barreled towards Johanna right behind the walking hut. Johanna had no time to swing her flail again, instead she caught the boney snout with her bare hands and pushed against it with an angry shout. The two skidded to a halt, struggling against each other. Acid streamed from Ashava's mouth but Johanna kept her away.

- You bitch! – the Nephalem hissed at the demoness.

- Disappointed to see you once again, too – Ashava dug her claws into the ground, anchoring herself down.

In the background, Lyndon and the old peasant teamed up against Shen and Kormac.

- Just lie down so we may free your soul from Mephisto, fool! – Kormac shouted, stabbing wildly with his spear.

- Tempting. I'll let you know if I find Mephisto snooping around in there – Lyndon deflected it with a seemingly effortless swing of his dagger.

Around them, the old peasant was guarding them from Shen's gems. He blocked them with his arms and body, each time a dull ring echoed across Solum.

- You are slipping, Dirgest! What's the matter, afraid of the Allfather?! – the old man taunted.

- Afraid of that midget mockery of the Creator?! Don't make me laugh, Zei!

- Wanting me dead is one thing, but rising against your own Father is just low, you worm!

- Haven't you failed your sacred duty given by the Allfather, Zei?! You have no right to talk!

Tyrael somehow clawed his way back to consciousness. Quiet was pouring his magic into him, desperately trying to drag him out of danger. The mortal angel stumbled as he stood up and shook his head. He beheld the chaos around them, then quickly crouched down to Quiet and held the tiny hands tight.

- Go, run in that direction and do not stop, you hear me?! – he pointed towards the jungle, holding the fearful gaze of the child.

- Wh-what?

- Quiet, you have to get out of here! Johanna cannot catch you. I will stay and fight with the others, we will buy you time, but you must—!

Ashava's body came crashing down with a painful gasp right next to them, causing Quiet to shriek and jump into Tyrael's arms. Johanna had summoned her cursed ghost steed that rammed into the demoness's side, knocking her off balance just enough that the woman could overpower her. Ashava was already standing back up, trying to get between Johanna and the pair. Behind the Crusader, Adenah came flying in her demon form, her spear held high, eyes filled with rage. Johanna spun around and swatted her away with her flail. Thankfully, it was mostly the chains that hit her, the spiked metal head would have copmletely torn her open.

Tyrael called El'druin to him, he stood by Ashava's side at the ready.

- Good to see you again, Tyrael, Quiet – the demoness huffed, shaking herself.

- Likewise, Ashava. I see you have made new friends as well.

- Don't get hurt, please! – Quiet cried, refusing to let go of Tyrael's ruined cuirass.

- Quiet, you must run – the mortal angel tried to place him to the ground.

- No! I don't want to leave my friends!

- Quiet!

- DIRGEST, THE PLAN! – Johanna roared with all her might, drowning out all other noises around.

- The what?! – Tyrael snapped his head back at the Crusader.

- The plan Lyndon had foreseen – Ashava answered in a low voice.

- What?!

The Xiansai god in Shen's body performed a massive leap from his battle and landed in the middle of the battlefield.

- To a journey, we go! – he shouted, his voice ringing ethereally, pointing over the horizon to the west.

Tyrael felt an incredibly strong force take a hold of him, and practically fling him through time and space. His vision failed him, it was all he could do to maintain his hold on the screaming Quiet and his sword.

- ZEI! – he thought he heard Lyndon's cry in the far distance.

- NO! – Dirgest roared.

The next second his trajectory changed with a horrible lurch. Tyrael felt like his organs were about to eject from his body. He landed hard on his back, his head missing a random stone pile just by a hair's length. Quiet's scream was cut short abruptly as the air was knocked out of him too. Tyrael struggled to sit up. Not far from him, Kormac and Dirgest groaned in the dust, the former lazily rolling from side to side on his back, the latter sitting up, clutching his head and murmuring curses at Zei. The mortal angel realized he and Quiet had landed in the middle of the enemy group. He struggled to a sitting position, holding the just now recovering child in one arm and El'druin in the other. Dirgest snapped his head up, he pointed at them while glaring daggers with those horrible purple eyes. Tyrael was faster, however – before he could be killed by a gem, he sloppily threw his sword towards the distant but recognizable silhouette of Ashava in the dust cloud, then teleported after it.

He landed on his feet somehow, almost falling forward from the momentum. He leaned onto El'druin like a walking stick, letting out a haunted breath he did not realize he was holding. As they were recovering, Ashava quickly stepped over them, covering them with one giant foreleg.

- Quite the trick – she noted.

- Thanks. I have no idea how I am doing it – Tyrael panted, checking up on Quiet.

The child was still hanging from his cuirass. He was blinking widely, trying to orient himself.

- Where are we? – he asked in a small voice.

- I am not sure – Tyrael looked around, but the ascending dust revealed little outside of some generic ruins here and there.

- If things have gone well, we are the destination Lyndon and Zei had come up with – Ashava stated above them, herding them back as she too retreated among the stones.

- Ashaaava? – Quiet blinked up at the demoness with confusion.

- I am here, little one.

- You okay?

- Yes. Fear not.

- What was the plan Johanna screamed out? – Tyrael held El'druin defensively, trying to shine through the dust cloud with it, to no avail.

- Lyndon had foreseen she and Dirgest would try to use Zei's powers—

- The Xiansai god of thieves?

- Yes, that Zei. They would use his powers to teleport them and Quiet away somewhere and leave us behind. But Zei prepared for it and he bent the magic so it would arrive to a different place, and brought us along as well. We were hoping you could get Quiet out of the fray before that happened, but I reckon—

- Ashava! This way! – came the shout from the distance.

The group hurried among the barely standing stone walls. They were still somewhere in Kehjistan, that much Tyrael could determine. The air was humid like in the jungle, and the evening still very much warm. They were at the base of some kind of mountain range that blocked out the dipping sun to the west, and among the dust clouds the mortal angel could catch a glimpse of a jagged, ugly peak towering over them.

Vaulting over (in Ashava's case, stepping over) a pile of rocks, they finally arrived to a smaller clearing where a house was still standing with three walls somehow. In its hallowed inside stood Lyndon, the random peasant who was Zei apparently, and Adenah who had fresh bandages around her abdomen where the flail's chains hit her. Next to the house, Izba was in her hut form, disappearing among the rocks very effectively.

Quiet tore himself away from Tyrael and practically flew at Lyndon who could only catch him thanks to his quick reflexes.

- Papaaaaa! – the little angel cried, snaking his arms around the man's neck, burying his invisible face in the shoulder.

- Pap—? – Lyndon blinked with utter bewilderment at his charge, before glancing up at Tyrael.

The mortal angel could only shrug and let go of a faint awkward smile. This wasn't really the reunion any of them were hoping for, but they had to work with what they had. Adenah sniffled loudly, she fidgeted with her spear instead of looking at the scene. Lyndon's eyes quickly welled up and he returned the hug.

- Quiet—Oh, Quiet! – he sobbed, rocking the child slowly.

- I missed you, papa…

- I missed you too! I'm so glad you are alright! – Lyndon laughed through the tears, futilely trying to wipe them away. – T-thank you, Tyrael. I owe you big time for this.

- You owe me nothing. One can argue I didn't do my job all that well – Tyrael waved the gratitude away, casting his gaze to the ground.

- Yeah, you're not getting rid of me that easily – Lyndon snorted before returning his attention to Quiet. – Look at you, firefly! You have grown so big!

He set the little angel down who now reached up to the scoundrel's belly.

- I tried to be good, papa – Quiet sniffled, rubbing his eyes and refusing to let go of the gloved hand. – But it didn't always work…

- We will make it work, firefly. I am proud of you – Lyndon quickly bent down to place a kiss on the top of his head.

- What now, Lyndon? We have gained a few minutes, at best – Ashava asked in a low voice, flattening herself against the ground as much as possible.

- Where are we? – Tyrael looked up at the ugly mountain above them.

He did not like one bit how this whole place seemed to match up with Zayl's description of…

- Ureh. Is that right, Zei? – Lyndon asked the peasant casually who was fanning himself with his own hat.

- Aye. It was tough to bend the mag—

- Ureh?! – Tyrael snapped his head at Lyndon.

- Hey, we needed a place to hopefully avoid Johanna better – Adenah shrugged.

Tyrael pursed his lips. Zayl's stories about this place were not really a reason for much hope – although they kind of lost their significance now next to the problem of having The Nephalem going after them. Besides, Ureh needed very specific circumstances to reappear on Sanctuary. Surely those would not happen tonight… right?

- Is it a bad place? – Quiet glanced up at his father.

- Mostly just weird, from what I have heard – Lyndon was scanning the ruins around them, his brain no doubt working overtime.

- That's putting it mildly – Tyrael mumbled under his nose. – Why not choose any other of the million ruins around? Preferably one of the ones that does not have an insanely mismanaged teleportation spell attached to it?

- You are the scholar, tell me of a single ruined city in Kehjistan that doesn't have some kind of curse, or monsters left behind by the Vizjerei, or vicious beasts in it? – Lyndon grinned wryly at him.

Tyrael paused. That much was true – Ureh, ironically, was probably the safest ruins in Sanctuary, whenever the city did not decide to teleport into existence for a night. In the "downtime" there was some kind of aura around the stones that kept literally everything out of its territory, the jungle itself included.

But when Ureh actually "came home", so to speak? Yeah, that was a different story.

No, it won't happen today, Tyrael took a deep breath, trying to focus his worry on more pressing matters at hand.

- Okay, so there are two main objectives – Lyndon explained to the group as quickly as he could manage. – One: don't die. Two: we need to get Dirgest out of Zei's body somehow, so he can teleport us the hell out of here.

- I still hate this plan – Adenah mumbled under her canine nose, with Izba creaking in agreement behind her.

- Do we have the tools for the latter task, god? – Ashava glanced at Zei, her matter-of-fact behavior working as a kind of support for the others.

- Well…

- Haee!

A golden portal appeared next to them, and out jumped a treasure goblin with a white horn and a massive sack of treasures. Tyrael immediately tensed up at the sight of the creature, but nobody else seemed bothered.

- Luther! – Quiet cried out happily and rushed there to hug the demon.

- Fffriend!

Tyrael could only stare at Lyndon in utter awe.

- A good friend – the scoundrel winked at him as he pocketed some kind of strange dime. – Boy, do I have a story to tell you once we survive this.

- "If", you mean.

- Once. Don't tempt bad luck, Tyrael!

Luther patted Quiet' back one last time before he pulled away and quickly lowered the sack to the ground, rummaging around it with great intent.

- We have sent our talented friend here to look for items that can potentially extract and hold Dirgest while we were tracking you lot down – Zei explained to the mortal angel.

The treasure goblin was busy flinging all sorts of weapons, armor, tomes, junk, gems, money and decorations everywhere, occasionally placing certain items with great care onto the ground in front of the group. There was an enchanted urn of marble, a purple crystal orb the size of a man's palm, a short wooden tube with Xiansai magical inscriptions on it and a richly adorned golden box fitting into a hand.

- Good haul, Luther! – Lyndon nodded approvingly as he accepted Quiet's hand back into his own.

- Are these strong enough to hold Dirgest? Never was good at telling with these things – Adenah looked over the items.

- The only way to know for sure is to try – Ashava shook her head.

- As much as I would like to stuff the bastard back into a tight prison – Zei scratched his chin –, our ultimate goal right now is to lock him down long enough to regain my body. The rest is not as important. We can always capture him later for good.

- I loath to admit that makes sense – Tyrael grumbled. – We have a whole different kind of problem on our hands right now.

Lyndon handed out the makeshift prisons. Adenah received the urn which she quickly tied to her side with a leather belt, like a satchel. Zei got the orb, the man placed it inside his hat and put it on. Tyrael got the "wooden" (bamboo, he recognized the material finally) tube which he stuck in his wide belt, next to his besagew. Lyndon held onto the golden box, sinking it into one of his many pockets. He then crouched down to Quiet, stroking the child's face.

- Now, you need to hide Quiet – the scoundrel said in a serious tone. – You cannot allow them to find you.

- Papa?

- We—we will fight the bad guys, and get all of us out of here. But they want you first and foremost. You need to stay hidden, and stay safe. Alright?

- I don't want any of you to get hurt, papa! – Quiet sniffled, his eyes welling up.

- We will be fine, firefly – Lyndon smiled at him, kissing the top of his head. – Everything is going to be alright.

Quiet could only nod, rubbing his eyes furiously. He retreated among the ruins, his red eyes following the group for long beyond the dust cloud. They looked after the child, before turning towards the soon-to-be-battlefield.

-… "Papa"? – Lyndon glanced at Tyrael, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves.

- I… have explained to Quiet what a "father" was, and he sees you as one now – Tyrael adjusted his hold on El'druin.

It felt wrong to brandish his sword against his former comrades now.

-… Who am I to argue? – Lyndon let go of a half-smile, his voice filled with pride.

- Are we ready? – Ashava asked, just as Johanna's screech rang across Ureh.

- Haee! – Luther answered with great conviction, easily raising a massive two-handed sword three times his height.

- Hells no – Adenah gulped.

- Now or never, guys. Remember, our true target is Dirgest. I will try to keep Johanna's attention on me – Lyndon pulled out what appeared to be a letter opener, much to Tyrael's surprise.

- So will I – Ashava nodded.

- Fffrieeends! – Luther beat one fist against his chest.

Izba stood up on her bandaged legs, and with a joined battle cry, the group bravely ran into the dust storm.

oooOOOooo

Nothing clears the mind quite like a fight for survival. There was little time to dwell on how much you completely messed up your own life and morals when there was a spear flying at your face.

Tyrael knocked the weapon aside with the flat of his sword, jumping back and over some rubble. As the two groups clashed, Kormac had almost immediately singled him out and was determined to run him through. Not that the mortal angel could blame him…

- Kormac, please! – still, Tyrael tried to reason.

- Silence, traitor! You ally yourself with demons and kill one of your former comrades! – Kormac screamed back.

They locked weapons for a second.

- Eirena's death is my fault alone, t—that is true – Tyrael struggled to keep his footing against the push. – But you too have lost your way, Kormac. Can you not see it?!

They separated finally, circling each other.

- I am not the one conspiring with demons! – Kormac spat at him.

- Neither am I!

- Ha!

- What had she made you do?! Have you hunted peacekeepers? Attacked those who would oppose her thirst for war? – Tyrael tried to provoke the man. – How can you justify all that you and she had done?!

He had to twist his body away from a jab the next second. He could have destroyed the weapon with ease –El'druin could cut through just about everything– but then he feared Kormac would just throw himself at him then. As long as the former Templar had something to fight with, he would unwittingly rely on it – and thus, Tyrael would not be forced to turn his sword against the man directly.

He greatly feared it would be able to injure his friend, afterall.

- You know nothing of our work! – Kormac snarled. – But now we cannot even trust the archangel who had fought on our side before. Sanctuary truly is on the brink.

- I have seen the remnants of Johanna's "work" in the Eastgate Keep! – Tyrael insisted, jumping back from another jab. – She is the one bringing this world to the brink! Those demonesses you see are trying to help!

Tyrael was painfully aware of how foolish and illegitimate that all sounded, but he couldn't help but try. He slapped the javelin into the ground with El'druin, trapping it for a second.

- Kormac. I am sorry about Eirena – he pronounced heavily, staring into the misted eyes of the Templar. – I have no excuse, her death is on me alone.

- I will make you pay for your sins, traitor! – Kormac yanked his weapon back.

- I cannot allow that to happen before I help stop this madness. And before I confess to Sophie of my fall – Tyrael raised El'druin with a heavy heart. – I am sorry, Kormac.

They clashed again, the fallen angel stubbornly keeping his defenses up. He parried, blocked and jumped away from the increasingly erratic strikes of the other. He tried to get close enough to Kormac to knock him out somehow, so he could go after Dirgest the real target, but the enraged Templar gave no opening so far. The flying dust clouds seemed to refuse to settle down around them, the ruins of Ureh were darkening in the setting sun. Tyrael thought he could see small lights running across the stones, but he chalked them up to the adrenaline coursing through his body.

That is until he passed by a column in his retreat. And that column was towering over them in its full height and carved glory. Holding a ceiling that had definitely not been above them a second ago. Even Kormac stopped to stare up at the sudden building they have found themselves in. Tyrael felt his mouth dry out.

- No! There is no fucking way that today—! – he tried to shout but the helpless rage got stuck in his throat as he saw distinctively human shapes coming towards them in the ever-present dust cloud.

oooOOOooo

Everyone was still alive so far. So things were going great, as far as Lyndon was concerned. Even though he had been just flung into the air like a ragdoll by a flying ghost hammer.

The scoundrel quickly blinked back onto the ground. Gods knew, Johanna was a bitch to face, seriously. But as long as Lyndon could keep up his easy-going approach to the situation ("don't think about how easily she can kill you and everyone, don't think about it"), he could handle the situation. His makeshift group was holding their own against the Nephalem and Dirgest quite well, all things considered. And most importantly, Quiet was out of danger so far. That was the most important. Lyndon had seen how Johanna had seemingly negated the child's power, and while he had no idea how that happened, he was all too happy to keep his firefly as far away as possible as a result.

If Quiet survived, that was a win in his book on the long run.

Lyndon was about to join back into the fray not too far from him, when an arm shot out of the annoying dust cloud and grabbed him by the elbow. Cursing his dumbass foresight for failing him, Lyndon damn near answered with his dagger but froze mid-swing.

- Myriam? – he breathed.

- Hello, scoundrel – the vecin lady smiled at him, the mischievous light returning to her eyes for a second.

She looked miserable, however. Her dark skin paled, she definitely lost weight, and her always colorful clothes lost their shine. Her smile quickly melted away, replaced by a distant look.

- The homecoming happens. Do you sense it? – she asked softly.

- The what? – Lyndon tried to ask, but a pain stabbed into his head and a premonition assaulted him.

He staggered. These longer visions of the future were really taking a toll on him. But now he saw clearly what Myriam had meant.

- Fucking hells, really?! – he choked, shaking his head. – Oh—oh no, Quiet!

He snapped his head towards the hazy ruins in desperation. He could not allow Quiet to remain here. If he could find him quickly without getting Johanna's attention, and teleport him outside the city, then come back…

- Indeed – Myriam let go of him suddenly. – You need to get your people out of here quickly by whatever means!

- Stay in the back, Myriam. I will tell Zei to teleport you away as well once we get his body back, I promise! – Lyndon said quickly, turning back to her.

- Johanna can see through me, Lyndon! She can with Kormac and could with Eirena too! – Myriam hissed at him urgently. – She can see you now. She can see my visions. She predicts every move you make.

- I can knock you out—

- That doesn't stop the connection to my premonitions. You have to kill me!

Lyndon stared at her.

- No! – he quickly unfroze himself, though. – We will think about something, Myriam! Don't worry about it!

- Lyndon, there is no ti—!

Myriam could not finish the sentence as the sudden sharp strike landed on her neck. Lyndon quickly caught her before she could fall to the ground, and teleported with her just outside of the walls. She would be safe here, if the stories were to be believed about Ureh. Glancing him, Lyndon noted the deepening shadow of Nymyr casting over the ruins.

Just their fuck awful luck…

He teleported back inside, determined to find his firefly, and everyone else in time.


Everyone. Is Here!

-insert Super Smash Bros Ultimate Theme Music-

Okay, so not quite. Our favorite deadweight and the greatest scholar of Sanctuary needed a break from this insanity. They are not out of the picture though, fear not. ;)

Originally the chapter would have gone on for longer, but I have decided to split it up in two for various reasons. Hopefully with this update, I am able to break out of this writer's block I have been inflicted with. There is too much on my plate lately, cupcakes, some of which is my fault, no doubt about that. Still, I am doing my best to get back on track, bear with me, please!

Thank you for your patience, I truly appreciate it. :)

Lore & Trivia Corner

- Ureh: my personal favorite "What the fuck even" place in Sanctuary, and possibly one of the most timeline-nuking things in the lore. Its story was clearly written when the current lore had not yet been established entirely. A once beautiful city corrupted by Diablo, who almost managed to teleport it into the Burning Hells and leave a portal behind for his troops. Thankfully one brave mage, Gregus Mazi had managed to stop the plan and screw up the spell so damn hard that Ureh instead disappears into between dimensions for most of the time. Its reappearance is supposed to happen once every 2000 years, OR every few centuries, not even the novel itself makes that clear (that is good writing, yes…). However, neither version lines up with the existence of characters who visited the place (e.g.: a guy hailing from Westmarch when that country did not even exist yet). So I personally went with the good old solution, that the city appears randomly, whenever the mountain's shadow casts over the ruins juuuust right. No cyclical nature involved. But other than the timeline fuckery, Ureh the teleporting shadow-bound zombie-infested city is hella dope and I wish it appeared more in official media.

- The chapter's setting actually went through a lot of considerations. I knew they could not have stayed within Solum. As much as I love that place, it is an absolutely terrible environment for writing an interesting fight, considering there is nothing there. Thankfully we do have a God of Travelers in our ranks to help out. The candidate battlefields included the Pandemonium Fortress, the completely ruined and burnt down Kurast, that random Nexus Point from the Sin War trilogy, the Temple of the Firstborn, and even Sescheron for a round two. Eventually I vetoed every one of them for different reasons, and we ended up with Ureh, which I never quite thought I would have the opportunity to use before. Can't say I am not happy with the turn of events. ;)