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Vanguard
Chapter 6:
Bind
A/n: Somehow this story's passed 10k views and 150 follows before 6th chapter. God damn.
Also, I'd like to thank Trav for all his help and hard work making this all possible.
"So…"
"So…?"
"…What do you think?"
"…I think I still need to process this." She sighed, rubbing her temples.
"Well, I mean, you were on the right track, it's not like it's that much of a reveal, is it?" Hades questioned.
"Papa, there's a big difference between you being some kind of wizard or vampire, and you being the King of Hell!" She exclaimed.
He frowned, "King of the Underworld, not Hell."
"So?"
"It's a pretty big difference."
"It is?"
At this, Hades couldn't help but have his lip twitch into a grin. After all, what parent doesn't love explaining their job to their child.
"Hell is the Abrahamic pit where sinners go. It's supposed to be an unholy, inescapable, and tormenting place for bad people." He began
"The Underworld, however, is simply where the dead go. Good or bad, the dead go to the underworld. In a way, you can think of the Underworld as being the afterlife as a whole. Heaven, Hell, and even Purgatory."
Bianca blinked
"Really?" She said with genuine surprise and interest.
Hades couldn't help but feel his chest swell in pride. "That's right, I manage the afterlife, making sure everyone goes to where they need go. It's a very important job, managing the dead. Lest they overflow and interfere with the living."
"So you're the god of Death." She mumbled to herself.
He winced, "Er, no. Not quite. I'm the King of the Dead, god of the Underworld, but I'm not the god of Death."
"Wait, so that's something else too?" She questioned, thoroughly confused.
"Yes, our god of Death is Thanatos." He answered, "He can be a bit…broody, but he's got a good heart."
"huh…" She said numbly, turning to stare out the window.
They had finally made it into the city of Los Angeles, the home of the Underworld. Or, at the very least, it's connection to the land of the living. Night had fallen and the lights of the city danced in his daughter's eye.
Bianca was mesmerized by the sights around her. She could just sit back and drink it all in. She had to.
Everything was so…different…now.
Mama was dead.
Papa was back.
They were 50 years in the future.
She was a demigod.
More than that, it seems that she was a princess of the underworld, her father a king, a god, even.
Glancing towards the back seat, Bianca let herself have a small smile. Even if everything was different, at least she still had her little brother.
Then she realized something.
"Wait, our god of Death?" She exclaimed, whirling back around to face her father.
"er, yeah." He recoiled slightly, taken off guard.
"Does that mean that there's others?" She asked
Hades grimaced.
"It's…complicated." He sighed.
"And, no, I don't mean in the 'I don't want to talk about it' way." He headed her off with a raised hand, knowing full well she was about to go there, "it's because, it is, in fact, very complicated."
Letting out a hot breath, he considered how best to explain it as he ran a frustrated hand through his black locks.
"Short version, most all mythological Pantheons exist. At least if they are still well known or worshipped. Every Pantheon has it's own take on death, whether that may be a special god that presides over it, or a certain type of beings that manage it." He began.
"And they're all more or less accurate."
"Wait, but wouldn't that cause, like, a whole lot of conflict?" Bianca interrupted.
"Oh, it does. That's why it's so complicated." He nodded with a bitter smile. "To be honest, it's a nightmare these days. There's different regions, different exceptions to the rule, different allowances. There's also the question of power. There's a certain level of 'might makes right' in which the stronger Pantheons get more influence, leading to a kind of pecking order where some Death gods are stronger than others."
He sighed explosively, seemingly sagging in his seat. "It's a real mess."
"…huh." There wasn't really anything else Bianca could think to say. That had raised more questions than answers, but if her papa was right, that was to be expected. And he was just dumbing it down for her.
Sounds like if I want to live up to papa's name, I'll have to be a bit more than clever. She realized.
"But…" Her father began, absentmindedly looking out the window. "There is one constant."
"Oh?" She inquired, her interested piqued.
"It's a real simple one too." He nodded.
"Death is absolute."
She blinked.
"I'm...not sure I get it," She said, her face scrunching up in confusion. "Isn't that kinda basic?"
"Oh, it is, but not how you understand," Hades responded. "Every culture around the world has, at the very least, some concept of death. They may interpret it differently, but each one realizes that at a certain point, things die."
"And just like the concept of Death is overarching and absolute in the minds of mortals, so too is it in the realm of gods."
His voice grew a weight that wasn't there before. The air in the car seemed to grow cold, the hair on her skin standing up on end.
Bianca shivered, feeling the unnatural importance of his words press down upon her, "W-what are you saying?"
"I'm saying that Death itself is a very real thing. As much as the other gods might not want to admit it, it is a beyond ancient, it is beyond powerful, and it is beyond intelligent."
"And it is Hungry."
Clack
In the handful of months since she had met the man before her, Athena had found him to be both infuriating and surprisingly competent.
Clack
One thing she most certainly did not take him for, was a fool. Sure, he may have done things she might consider foolish, but by mortal standards, it was actually rather reasonable. Other things were through little fault of his own, things he simply couldn't have known.
Things like daring to undermine the glory of Greece in front of her most august self.
Clack
But more recently, something had surprised her.
Clack
One day, when they met in that library once more, as had become the custom these days, he asked her a question. A request for clarification and enlightenment.
But it was the topic of this request that truly surprised her.
Clack
For in this realm, against all expectations, he was surprisingly ignorant. He knew little of the subject material, only catching the various references and allusions to it, and he had no first-hand experiences of it himself.
He was completely new to the test of wits before him.
Something Athena was more than happy to correct
"Check"
Athena smiled as she looked up at her opponent sat across from her. Philip frowned as he took in the board in a glance, before making his own move.
Clack rang out the sound of wood upon wood.
It was incredibly surprising to Athena that Philip hadn't heard much of Chess before, let alone played it. But she was happy to play it with him. She has really picked up the little game, tracking it as it slowly became known in the Western World. At first, it was so disorganized, with hardly any ironclad rules. But with the proper guidance they finally managed to get their act together.
Clack
At first, the man was abysmal at the game. She wasn't surprised, he'd never played it before. He wasn't entirely sure how to really play the game. He internalized the rules quickly enough, he just wasn't sure how to apply them. It looked, to her, that while he may have been intelligent he didn't instinctively know how to apply his own tactical knowledge to the wooden battlefield.
But…he had not disappointed her. She may have been surprised by his lack of knowledge, by the depth of his ignorance, but inexperience did not equal lack of talent or skill.
"Check" Philip called out after moving his rook.
Athena glanced at the board.
As I thought She smiled, the 8th scenario
It wasn't a bad move, it was, in fact, a very good move. It put him in one of the best possible positions he could be in.
Clack
The problem was, was that it simply wasn't good enough.
They were getting into the end of the game, and soon enough it would be hers. There were very few pieces left on either side. His 4 to her 6.
Clack
Zavala had skill and talent for this, Athena could tell. It hadn't been refined by hours upon hours of time spent playing, but he had the raw mindset for such strategic actions.
It was simply that she was far better. Better than he could ever hope to be, really. This was, by definition, her area of expertise. This was what she did.
He could never hope to truly stand as her equal.
"Checkmate."
She reclined in the chair, unable to keep the smug grin from her face as she basked in her 9th victory.
Philip himself looked over the board for a moment, not content to just accept her word for it. But in the end, he finally conceded that there was no way out for his king with a nod. He frowned and grumbled something under his breath.
"I'm not sure that kind of language is appropriate for this setting." Athena smirked, "You have to think of the children, you understand."
"I think it builds character." He grumbled as he rubbed his bare chin. "I also think this game is bullshit."
She was unable to suppress a snort. "Come now, Philip, you didn't expect yourself to be able to master it immediately, did you?"
"No," He conceded, "I did not."
"I also didn't expect the fabled game of incredible strategy and cunning to be so…dumb."
"Dumb?" She questioned, a smile playing on her lips. As infuriating as the man was, Athena had to admit it was fun when the shoe was on the other foot.
"It's…I…They…" He said inarticulately as he searched for the words.
"…The game is basic." He finally began.
"It takes everything down and breaks it down into such basic, flat, and even concepts it can't even be called a childish version of actual battlefield combat and tactics."
"That's because it's not." She grinned, "It's a game."
He glared.
"You know, for fun?" She offered.
His glare did not abate.
She laughed in the face of his annoyance.
What probably made this all the more humorous was that he was actually disturbingly good at this game. This was only Philip's 11th match ever. Despite that, he was able to force her to actually try.
Athena didn't have to try particularly hard, but that wasn't surprising. The fact she had to try at all was a feat worthy of people with days' worth of hours of experience playing the game.
The first game they had played, she had won, as was right, but it was a trivial, easy victory. She didn't even have to really try.
At the same time, however, Philip barely knew how to play. It was…almost cute watching the man fumble around the battlefield. The second game went much the same, just with a mild increase in his skill. Still, he wasn't a fool, and he didn't let his pride get the best of him. All throughout the first two matches, he asked an endless array of questions. Each time she performed one of the more special moves, such as castling, instead of throwing a fit, he would dive deep into questioning the hows and whys of what she did.
For all his initial failings, he seemed to soak up knowledge like a sponge.
Just when she was about to give in, to write it off as him simply lacking any aptitude for the game, he pulled out his first win in the 3rd game. He had finally managed to apply basic, amateurish at best, tactics to the game properly. The only reason he won that game was because she hadn't actually been paying attention and he had snuck it by her.
Still, it was enough to get her interested again.
She won the next four, but each was markedly harder. Finally, when she had thought that she had him marked down, his tactics locked in, he changed it up again. It had been going so well at first, she had captured many of his pieces. It was his 6 to her 11. And yet, in only a handful of turns, he managed to checkmate her through the mess of the battlefield.
Since then she had figured a few things out about him. It seemed he did the best when he was the underdog, so to speak. He worked best with fewer pieces or playing defensively, as opposed to crushing her with numbers.
Not that those things were terribly easy to see in chess, but Athena got the feeling that the man was used to defensive or guerrilla warfare.
No surprise how.
"You're quite skilled at this, Carol." Zavala finally said.
"Well, I was the champion of my school's chess club." She smirked.
In a way, technically true. At least, as long as "school" meant "pantheon".
He chuckled, "And here I thought you were just a mild-mannered history teacher."
"Well we're not all skin deep, you know." She remarked.
"Who's this 'we' you speak of?" He remarked, picking up his mug of tea for a sip.
"Why, I'm speaking of beautiful women like me, of course." She teased with a smug grin.
He snorted into his mug, "Yes, of course." He humored her.
"I'm glad we could agree." She smiled triumphantly.
Commander Zavala, through his years of experience, had learned to pick his battles.
And that was not a battle worth fighting.
Instead, he sighed, regrouped, and picked a different one.
"You mentioned something about Independence Day? The movie?" He asked
"Oh, yeah." She perked up, suddenly switching gears from "I am truly one of the greatest things your pathetic mortal eyes have laid eyes upon" to "action movie nerd".
Athena will protest this fact to most anyone who'll bring it up, but those who care to actually know her can quickly pick this up. Despite praising wisdom and strategy, she was still hopeless before the power that was the mortal media and pyrotechnics.
"Have you seen it yet?"
"…Zavala."
"Yes?"
"That movie doesn't come out for another two weeks."
"It doesn't?"
"No…no it doesn't."
"Hmm." He frowned as if this new information had just thrown all his plans into the air.
"Zavala…" She began tiredly, "You don't care much about this movie, do you?"
He opened his mouth, as if to counter, before holding his tongue, and truly considering the issue. After a moment of thought, he continued.
"I…am forced to admit that my skill in social situations is…rusty." He admitted.
Athena winced. That was one painfully true fact about the man. For all that he was an interesting mortal to her, she had to bare much of the weight of casual conversation. The best way she could describe it was that the man was trying to learn how to be a civilian again.
She had seen it before. Being a goddess of war meant she intimately familiar with such things. She might not have the same connection as Ares, but he rarely cared for the fallout of war. The brute of a god simply relished in the destruction and "glory" of the battle itself. As such, Athena could admit she was sympathetic to a man trying to re-engage with the rest of society.
He hadn't drawn a gun on her or anything, but she chalked that up to luck and his own absurd levels of self-control. The fact that he never let himself go truly unarmed or without at least 3 escape routes, on the other hand, was more indicative towards the truth.
To be frank, it was the little things. Things like this, where he awkwardly tried to continue a conversation about a topic he had little interest in.
And being the magnanimous and brilliant goddess of wisdom and strategy that she was, she knew pity.
And she knew mercy.
"What if you went with me?" Athena suggested with a smirk, breaking the silence just before it became truly awkward.
"Went…with you?" He questioned confused and off balance.
"To see the movie."
"…why?"
It took all she had not to bring her palm to meet her face.
Why must he infuriate me so?
"To have fun," She enunciated.
"Fun?" He repeated as if it was a bizarre and foreign concept.
"Yes." She nodded, "Fun."
"…why would watching Independence Day be fun?"
MOTHERFU-
"Because people go to watch movies for fun. Watching stories unfold on the big screen is…entertaining." She explained a patient, if tense, smile, reigning in that anger and refusing to let even a hint of it show through pure force of will.
"Why on earth would I want to watch fictional live combat for something other than instructional purposes?" He remarked casually, barely even thinking through the answer. "It's not like it's nothing I haven't seen before."
She blinked, surprised that he'd been in such fierce conflict considering the relative peace of the world.
Perhaps from the Gulf War? She considered Or maybe he was in the Special Forces of the American Military, and deniable ops?
Even as she was caught off guard, she still had a comeback waiting on her tongue.
"So you've fought off an alien invasion?" She questioned sarcastically.
For a moment, just a moment, she could have sworn that he was going to yes.
"…no." He frowned instead.
She quirked a suspicious brow at that his hesitance to respond with the blatantly obvious answer. She was about to make a comment when she was interrupted by a loud buzzing sound.
Philip twitched fractionally, before snatching up a black brick-like device sitting on the table in front of him. He stopped for a moment to look at the face of the brick-like device, before clicking a button and pressing it to his ear.
"Zavala." He answered it.
He blinked.
"…What?"
In the Baltic Sea
"What do you know about fighting Pirates?"
"Cayde, what the hell are you talking about?"
"Look," The man dressed in a brown long coat began as he held a slim device to his ear, "I'm on a civilian ship that just got boarded, and I need to know about how to fight pirates."
"What on earth makes you think I know the first thing about fighting Pirates?"
"You're an Awoken, that shit's in your blood, right?" Cayde remarked casually as he idly checked his shotgun.
He was currently in the galley of the ship room filled with several other civilians. Most of whom were either panicking loudly or crying quietly.
"…I don't even know where to begin with that statement,"
"That's not a no." Cayde quipped all too cheerily.
In San Diego, Athena couldn't help the thought that ran through her mind
…Did he say pirates?
To say that Athena was confused would have been an understatement.
Of the many interruptions, she could have predicted would have sprung up between Philip and her discussion, one of Philip's acquaintances calling him about pirates, of all things, didn't register.
Given the way Zavala was reacting, Athena guesses he wasn't expecting it either.
But as he slowly brought a hand up to his face to meet his creases brow, she got a distinct impression that he wasn't surprised either.
He sighed, just under his breath, and for a moment took on a look of resigned acceptance.
"…Are there civilians on the boat." He finally said
Back in the Baltic Sea Cayde glanced around the room at the room filled with civilians.
"…I'd say so."
"how many are there? What condition are they in? Are any wounded?" Zavala asked, his voice slipping into his commanding tone.
"Er," Cayde paused, "There's 18 other people in the room. 15 are actually crew, the other 3 are a family that bought their way on board like us. Most are in good shape. One guy lost a hand. The kid's crying their eyes out. And at least 5 of the crew are dead, the rest are MIA, assumed dead."
"Wait, bought their way on board?" Zavala questioned.
"Yeah, it's being a stowaway, 'cept not, 'cause you paid. Right now we're on a cargo ship. Technically we aren't supposed to be here, but the crew was willing to look the other way for a few grand." Cayde explained, "And I brought food for us so we wouldn't starve."
Then he whispered into the microphone, "Well, I mean, you know, so they wouldn't starve"
Not needing food himself, Cayde could afford to bring less, if any, provisions.
Being an incredibly handsome immortal robot space wizard cowboy from the future had its benefits.
"So…you 'hitched a ride' on this cargo ship, and it's now under attack from pirates?" Zavala slowly reiterated, "About a third of the crew is probably dead, and you have one injured and all of them are civilians."
"Well, I mean, some of the crew are armed and want to take the fight to the boarders, but I wouldn't really trust most of them not to accidentally shoot themselves." Cayde remarked, "In reality, I'd say about…eh…3 of them could reasonably hold their own. Maybe 4."
"What are they armed with?" Zavala asked,
"We got three shotguns, two rifles, and five pistols. The Captain looks like he was ex-navy himself and knows his way around a gun, but he's no sharpshooter, especially with those shaky hands of his. The engineer at least knows which way the bullets come out of and not to point it at people, the chief is pretty handy with a blade." Cayde listed off.
"And the father…he's definitely ex-special forces. He didn't bring much other than a pistol and a knife, but he doesn't really seem to need much else."
"…Alright…I can work with this." Zavala commented. Cayde could practically feel the man nodding grimly. "How severe is the boarding force? Numbers, weapons, ships?"
"Er, well…" Cayde trailed off, not sure how to put it.
"Well?" Zavala said impatiently.
Just as Cayde was about to answer, his heightened sense perked up. He heard something in the distance through the bulkheads and his motion tracker lit up.
"Wait, hold up," Cayde stopped him, focusing on the sound.
It was…footsteps. Fast and numerous. He could hear frantic breathing. A pounding heart.
He turned towards the wooden door to the room, the one weakness of the otherwise well defended and well-stocked galley. He placed a hand on the worn handle of his Ace of Spades, ready to draw it at a moment's notice.
Most didn't pick up the small action, the quiet tenseness of his figure, the way put himself before the door. Only the Captain and the Father seemed to notice it, each one reaching for their own weapons, the father subtly shifting before his wife and daughter.
He knew they couldn't hear what he could, couldn't sense anything through the bulkheads and steel, not over the roar of the rest of the crew.
But they didn't matter, Cayde had long since been able to tune them out. To focus on what he needed to hear. He could feel each step they took, each movement they made.
Step by step, inch by inch.
Until, finally, the sounds reached the humans in the galley.
"Cayde, what are you fighting?" Zavala repeated more seriously this time.
Cayde winced, he probably should have opened with that. It was kind of important information.
Unfortunately, any information he wanted to give was washed out by the deafening roar of panic from the frantic civilians who were scared out of their minds. Even the crew seemed shaken to the core. Only the Captain, Cook and Father seemed to retain any sense of calm. Outside the door, loud sounds clashed together. Something bumped against the door, eliciting a terrified shriek from the crew.
"Right, see, that's probably the biggest problem," He began, "We're fig-"
Crack
Suddenly, an ax, of all things, smashed through the wooden door, gouging a massive tear through its body and fracturing the rest of it. The panicked mass behind him yelped in surprise.
"Fighting-"He continued, another violent collision shaking the door. Through it, he could hear screams and rasps.
The father grabbed his pistol and knife, holding it in an over-under position. The captain picked up the shotgun beside him with a trembling, but firm, hand. The chief merely grinned, gripping the cleaver in his hand with a glint in his eye.
The door shook and trembled, the walls vibrated with energy. It sounded like a storm was raging just outside the galley, with the door being the only thing standing between them and hell itself.
Until it could hold no more
CRASH!
The door shattered, wooden splinters exploding everywhere. Cayde weathered the storm with a measured calm born from centuries of experience. All around him, people roared in blind terror. The child cried, the mother shrieked, and the deckhands screamed. Through the maelstrom, he could see it.
It charged through the door, it's first step almost a stumble, but it's second bringing it back into balance.
An armored boot slammed into the floor. It was old and dark, dripping wet and rusted. Trailing upwards to meet a limb covered in taut, pale, flesh covered in leathers, furs, and rusted chainmail.
The thing before could not be described as human, not anymore. Its flesh was old and rotten, held taut against the skin making it little more than a skeleton anymore. It reeked of death and rot. Despite its dead form, it's eyes were filled with a sinister blue light. It's bared and decayed teeth opened before him as the dead thing howled in anger, raising the ancient ax in its hands in the air and preparing to charge.
When an arrow wreathed in cerulean fire burst out from its putrid chest.
It roared in agony as the fire consumed its body, racing across the damp flesh as easily as if it was bone dry. The arrow was pulled from its body, and unsupported it fell to the ground, writhing in agony as it died of burning hell.
And in its wake, stood a young woman in her early twenties with dark brown hair and matching eyes, wearing a thick white shirt, dark pants, hiking boots, and a leather jacket.
Suddenly, she dove to the ground, rolling across the floor. An instant behind her, a large steel ax crashed into the floor where she once stood, burying itself in the tile. Holding it was another such creature with rotten flesh, ancient furred armor, and unnatural blue eyes.
Before it could react, the girl lunged forward, burying the burning arrow into the second creature's heart, and spreading the merciless flames to a new unholy terror. Taking a step back, she pulled the arrow from its chest, and took a breath, thinking the danger had passed.
Instead, a third monster appeared in the doorway, wearing thicker plates of rusted iron armor and carrying a rusted iron sword in one hand, and a wooden shield in the other.
Then it's head vanished in a white cloud of ash and rot.
Bang!
The Ace of Spades chimed in pleasure as its master landed another shot directly on target.
The girl looked up at him with a momentary look of gratitude, before bracing her hands on her knees and sucking in hungry breath after breath.
Before he could open his mouth, he once again interrupted.
A roar went out, a thunderous bellow. It rang out through the halls of the ship, leaving no corner untouched. It echoed within the minds and souls of all the living who bear witness to it, shaking all but the strongest to their core.
"Shit."
Back in San Diego
"Cayde?"
Athena was, frankly, unsettled by what she was seeing. Philip was a man she considered all but unshakeable. Sure, he on occasion may be ruffled up of put off balance for a moment, but never before had she seen him like this.
Shortly after he began his call, he seemed to tune out the world around him, becoming completely absorbed in his own little world. Out of courtesy, she had put up a small area of privacy around the two of them. No one else would really notice or hear them, within certain limits.
Not that it would have mattered, anyways. When he began to enter the discussion in earnest he slipped into a foreign tongue. One that not even her knowledgeable self could figure out. In a way, it sounded like a mishmash of several different languages, but so horribly distorted and with so many new words added she couldn't fathom what he was actually saying beyond the most general of ideas.
His entire being appeared to change before her eyes. His stance became rigid, his back straight. He began to pace, his face etched into a hard frown that seemed to fill the world around it with depth and weight simply by its presence. His eyes flitted about the room, taking in everything, but lost in their own world.
Then, for an instant, his eyes met hers, and she shivered.
His eyes had become cold and calculating, hard with the refined and rough intellect of a well-worn practitioner of war.
In that moment, her friend, Philip, was gone, and in his place stood only Commander Zavala, the Titan Vanguard.
Athena, ignorant of these facts, could only recognize the age and experience held within them. For all that she could boast and preen, she was far from easily bought or swayed by praise. Above all, she admired one's aptitude and browses. The way one could think, the way one could analyze and break everything down in a moment, the way that one could reshape the world with nothing but their will and wit.
My my, Philip She couldn't help but grin Another piece of the puzzle revealed, but another 20 questions raised.
Zavala was a befuddling, complex, infuriating, and thought provoking challenge of a puzzle for her to unravel.
And that exhilarated her.
"Cayde, report!" He ordered, growing impatient.
"…right, sorry boss, had to get everyone to stop collectively shitting their pants for a moment." Cayde replied, finally getting back on the line. "you know I'm not exactly the best at rousing speeches."
Despite the urge to groan and pinch his brow, he soldiered on without, "Cayde, you mentioned something about your borders?"
"Oh, right, yeah. Zombie Vikings. It's, uh, a pretty self-explanatory name, Zavala. They're Viking Zombies." Cayde answered, "Who are also pirates."
Zavala didn't even pause as he internalized the information, as ridiculous sounding as it was.
Truth be told, it wasn't the strangest thing he'd encountered in his life.
"Give me a report on their capabilities." He commanded.
"Well, in short, they're a bitch to kill. My gun seems to work just fine at doing it, but I'm not sure about the others. They're definitely stronger and more durable than normal, though." Cayde explained.
"Some of the bastards even seem to be wearing some kind of plate armor, armor that's actually capable of stopping a bullet or two."
Zavala's frown only deepened. Civilians in the area, enemies resistant to harm, limited ways of neutralizing their foes, and extremely limited escape routes.
This could easily become a bloodbath for the civilians.
"What are their numbers?" Zavala asked, hoping for the best, but fully expecting the worst.
"Er, honestly, I'm not sure. I've confirmed the appearance of 41, I know that 10 are dead, but given the boats that appeared and the size of the ship I'm on, there could easily be over a hundred.
Philip's lip twitched into a shadow of a scowl for a moment at the lack of actionable intelligence, but before he could open his mouth, Cayde continued, glancing at the young woman by his side.
"Which is what I have my scout for."
Baltic Sea
"Your what?"
"Scout, apprentice, same difference." Cayde dismissed with a wave of his hand.
Lara scowled at him, "I'm hardly your apprentice" She seethed.
"Wow. That hurts, Lara," He mocked, placing a hand over his heart. "I thought we had something."
"Cayde, who the hell are you talking about?" Zavala "And how the hell does she know Terran?"
"Oh…right," Cayde said, the fact that they hadn't actually met yet just dawning on him.
Holding out the device to Lara, he prompted her to take it. Slowly, and uncertainly, Lara took the device from him. She gave it a momentary glance of curiosity, noting that rather than appear simple and "magical", like some kind of glowing rock, it looked like a slim device with futuristic designs.
She held the device up to her ear much like she would a phone, despite being several times smaller than even the standard home phone.
"Umm….hello?" She began cautiously.
"…I'm assuming that you are Lara?" He began, his deep and commanding voice surprising her for a moment.
"Y-yes, I'm Lara Croft." She responded
Zavala let out a hot breath and muttered a curse she couldn't quite translate, but somehow involved a rhino's intestines.
"…Very well, Ms. Croft," He finally said, beginning introductions, "My name is Philip Zavala. What has Cayde told you of our situation?"
"Er…he said you all were…Warlocks?" She said uncertainly, giving Cayde a pleading look, silently begging for his assistance.
He gave her a wink and a thumbs up.
Zavala cursed under his breath again.
Then he tapped the side of his left ear, and suddenly when he next spoke she could also hear him through the device.
"Yeah, Zavala, this is Lara, she's good people." Cayde vouched for her.
"You still haven't told me how the hell she speaks Terran."
"Eh, she soaks up languages like a sponge so I decided to teach it to her over the course of a year. She's at, like, a Third School level" Cayde explained.
Lara had to admit that the language had been a bit strange, and had raised more questions than it answered, but she had relished the challenge in deciphering the mess of rules and exceptions.
Zavala seemed to…fume…for a moment over the connection, before forcing himself to move on.
"That is a matter for another time. Right now, you have bigger issues." He pointed out, steering the conversation back on task.
"What can you tell us about the threat?" Zavala questioned
"Like I said, Boss. Zombie Vikings." Cayde
"What?" Lara said incredulously
"The Zombie Vikings."
"The wha?…no. They're called Draugr. They're like...Norse ghosts or vampires."
"Or Zombies."
"I…guess…" Lara said uncomfortably.
Technically, Cayde had a point, it just felt…wrong…to Lara to simplify them in such a crude manner.
"Draugr, hmm?" Zavala muttered to himself, "Why are they there?"
"Well, according to legend, Draugr tended to guard treasure or torment mortals." Lara began "My guess is that they're here because of the boxes."
"Boxes?" Zavala questioned.
"There are these treasure boxes we've been collecting. Each one's been a bit tricky to get, in a rough location and guarded by…monsters, I guess." Cayde explained. "We've got two out of three of them. The working theory is that once we get all three we'll finally be able to open them."
"At the end of it all, we're supposed to get some kind of 'blessing of the elements', whatever that would be," Lara added.
"And you know what they say, Boss. High risk, high reward." Cayde helpfully commented.
"…So what can be done about them?" Zavala said after a pause.
"That's actually kind of the problem." Lara wined. "Legend says they're immune to weapons."
Cayde simply glanced down at the ground towards the three bodies at his feet, each one turning to white ash dissolving into the air, before looking at Lara with a questioning brow.
"I got a good look at the ships," She said, "And I think I know what it meant."
"Each one of the three ships by ours has this…glowing blue stone on it," She continued
Cayde frowned, "Like the source."
Lara nodded with a grim expression.
"Source? Cayde, what Source?" Zavala questioned.
Cayde winced, "Right, uh, sorry, forgot to mention that boss. It's kind of a long story."
"…Cayde, after this we are going to have a long discussion about proper communication and coordination." Zavala ground out. "For now, continue."
"Oh…cool," Cayde grimaced. Switching gears as fast as he could, he turned back to the girl. "Lara?"
"Right, well, much like the source, it seems like they're connected to it. I saw it seemingly summon more Draugr by gathering up what looked like ashes from open jars on the vessel." Lara explained.
"So basically, they'll keep respawning no matter how many times we kill them." Cayde simplified.
"Looks that way." Lara grimaced, "To make matters worse, they seem to disregard most injuries. Stab them in the heart or blow out their chest and they'll keep coming. Cutting off limbs can debilitate them, but they don't really seem to stop. Even a decapitation just slows them at best."
"Wait, then how'd we kill them?" Cayde wondered
"Well, frankly, you're bullshit…" Lara remarked with a dry look, gesturing to his revolver.
Cayde blinked, "…point"
"…And Greek Fire is also bullshit." She added, holding up the arrow currently wreathed in cerulean flames.
He paused, considering the point, then shrugged, "Makes sense."
"And unfortunately, I barely had enough materials to scrap together so I could ignite the one arrow. Sure, it's enough for me, but…" Lara trailed.
"That…is a problem," Zavala said, Cayde picking up the scowl in his voice.
"This eliminates several of the potential tactics you had available. You cannot bleed your enemy dry, and now your combat effectiveness as a unit has been gutted." He grumbled.
"But difficult is still several million miles away from impossible," He said, a deep defiant growl in his voice. "And a problem is nothing but a challenge begging for a solution."
"If they think they can make us tremble and bow, I'm quite sure you shall punish them for such a grievous mistake."
A/n:
Alright, I'll admit this is off by a week.
Sort of my fault, but also a bit out of my hands.
Last week there were some setbacks, including me burning my hand and somehow losing the chapter at some point, making me redo it.
Speaking of which, this is, at a minimum, the third version of this chapter. The first got lost/deleted on accident, and the second got rewritten. The chapter was originally going to be far more lighthearted and humorous.
Basically, it was going to be all, "Lol, Cayde and Lara kill Zombie Pirates"
That turned into, "Holy shit, Draugr"
Also, turns out, the Draugr as portrayed in Skyrim are, if anything, the kid-friendly version. The other version was more fucked up and gross.
They were also invincible and the only way to kill them was to literally wrestle them back into their graves.
As you might be able to see, I'm not quite using that version. The Skyrim version is easier for me to picture. But hey, who says both can't exist?
And, as some of you might have noticed...Lara Croft is a thing.
Yes, I've brought in Tomb Raider.
While it was more or less an accident when I first did it, I fully stick by doing it. Lara Croft totally fits what I want to do with this story, and she's very easy to bring in.
She already exists on earth, and she doesn't bring too much baggage. What I mean by this is that she doesn't have some kind of massive mythos in her world that I'm somehow going to have to find a way to work into Destiny and PJO's.
I'm also going to be using the recent reboot Lara because A: I like that Lara the most by miles, and B: I've actually played those games.
Plus, Lara is just a human. She isn't some kind of half alien half demon girl with magical powers because she's the chosen one.
She's human.
Even if she can perform superhuman feats, she is a human being, not a nonhuman entity. Her doing things is an example of what humanity is capable of, rather than something else coming in and giving humans a hand because we're so fucking weak we can't do anything.
Plus, this lets me do fun stuff with Cayde.
Also, as for the language that Cayde and Zavala are speaking, I more or less made that up as being a thing on the spot. I recalled that English has changed a fuckton over even just the past 500 years. And it didn't have to go through an apocalypse. So basically the common tongue of the Last City is Terran, which is a mix of a bunch of different languages, primarily English, Russian, and Mandarin, as well as the conventional mutations born from centuries of time and development. I'm no Tolkien so I'm not going to actually going to be making up a language. Way too much trouble for me. At the same time, it is here, as I post this chapter, that I realize I should have probably come up with a way to better point out when they're not speaking English. Right now it's about 4 am so that's way much work for me at the moment. I'll do it later. Probably [brackets] or something.
I"ve also realized, holy shit time is disjointed as fuck. With Bianca and Hades, this is still the same day as when they left Hotel California a few chapters ago. During that same period of chapters, several months has gone by for Zavala and Athena. They met in late January, and now it's early-mid June. And Cayde found his blue box about a week ago.
So yeah, I should probably get everyone on the same timestamp soon.
Also, speaking of Z and A, Chess. I was going to make Zavala a grandmaster expert at chess that could actually beat Athena, but then I figured that chess not being one of the things that survived to the Last City made a degree of sense, and it would be funnier and work better, be more balanced, and be more fun if Zavala had never even heard of chess before, making him a complete novice. As you can see, he's getting better, but he's got a loooong way to go before he's actually a serious challenge to Athena.
Like, at least a month.
And finally Hades, Bianca, and Death. Mostly Death. Death is...well, Death is going to be more than something as simple and weak as a single god like Thanatos.
At least when I'm writing the story.
That's it for me right now. As a warning Real Life has come up again, so there might be delays in posting between the end of may and the beginning of June.
Oh, and I might do something special since I'm about to pass 100 reviews with this story after only it's 6th chapter. We'll see.
But for now, I'll see in two weeks with my first proper fight scene in far too long.
Bye.
