So, I told Timid Antelope I might have a Christmas gift for you guys .(referring to this chapter), and then immediately after I was like, "This is literally the worst chapter ever to post on Christmas!" But, here we are...
Be warned: This is not happiness and cheer. This is gloom and doom as things go "boom". Take my advice, and save it for after the holidays...
The premise of the contest, Nate knew, was ridiculous at best, and suicide at worst. Essentially, the fight was pitting the mortal against the immortal, the vulnerable against the invulnerable, and man against the Gods.
But life had never dealt him fair odds before. Why should it start now?
Nate's last Greek Fire grenade smashed on the stone paved floor, spraying liquid hell in every direction, and Garnier shielded his face as he ducked to the side, narrowly managing to stay out of the affected radius. Cursing under his breath, the scientist quickly scanned the room for his opponent, his dark eyes squinting into the searing haze coming off the flames around him.
Nate lunged, catching Garnier by surprise as he put him in a headlock from behind. The scientist uttered a strangled cry while Nate used his free hand to wrench back on the arm with the gun and strip the weapon from the Frenchman's grip. Clattering to the stone, the little pocket-sized gun was briskly kicked aside with the toe of Nate's boot, and it skittered into the middle of the inferno left behind from his grenades. As Garnier tried to elbow him in the side, Nate tossed the smaller man to the floor, only to join him a split-second later as his feet were knocked out from under him with a sweep of Garnier's leg. The Frenchman was first to get to his feet, and Nate lurched as one of his spit-polished oxfords collided violently with his gut, knocking him down on his face again. An instant later the offending footwear came down sharply on his hand and crushed it, causing him to drop his gun. "Ah! Not good!" Nate grunted, leaping to grab his gun a split-second after Garnier's foot sent it also sliding into the flames.
"Alright," Nate huffed as he stumbled to his feet while cradling his throbbing fingers. "Flag on the play! Finger stomping is definitely a foul." He raised his fists defensively as the two of them began circling each other again. "Also, that was pretty much a brand new gun, and I know someone who's going to be absolutely pissed."
Garnier glowered at him. "What's foul is your willingness to destroy the very cradle of human life without any qualms for the knowledge that would be lost!"
"We can't allow those guardians to get out, Garnier," Nate attempted to reason with him. "They will absolutely destroy the world, and there's no way to stop them!"
"And that's worth destroying humanity's chance at immortality?" Garnier asked in a rage.
Nate set his jaw, his gaze steady as he replied, "Sometimes we have to make sacrifices for the sake of the greater good."
Scoffing, the Frenchman shook his head scornfully. "What do you know... about sacrifice?" He caught Nate by surprise as he suddenly stepped forward and threw a right hook that struck his jaw. It lacked the power of Floki's musclebound pile drivers, or even of someone with combat experience, but it was a punch nonetheless, and Nate staggered back. He recovered just in time to catch Garnier's second blow, capturing the scientist's fist with his left hand while delivering a punch to his gut with his right. Garnier gasped as the wind was knocked out of him; Nate grabbed his shirt with both hands and kneed him in the stomach, causing him to stumble backward as he struggled to catch his breath.
Faster than Nate expected, the French scientist recovered and leaped forward again, assailing him with a barrage of punches and kicks and knees that came with such ferocity Nate was driven back toward one of the stone trees as he desperately blocked the attacks coming at him. "Do you want to know what sacrifice is?" Garnier growled, his voice throaty and grating as the toxin in the water continued its work on him. "Imagine living in the shadow of your own brother and his 'successful' business ventures." He threw a punch, Nate blocked it. "Imagine watching everyone swoon over his accomplishments and how much he's made of himself, all the while knowing the strings he's pulled, the people he's bribed, the lies he's told to get where he is!"
A kick connected solidly with Nate's midsection, and he flew back against a tree and fell to the floor. As Garnier lashed out again, Nate rolled to the side, coming up on the Frenchman's right, and punched him in the face. Enraged, Garnier retaliated sloppily with a blow that Nate easily eluded.
"Imagine living in the eclipse of such shallow achievement, knowing that you yourself are far more intelligent, far more deserving of praise, and have worked far harder to show it- only to be overlooked by everyone! Imagine having your every move hampered by bureaucracy and ignorance, your genius forestalled by imbeciles who refuse to acknowledge the legitimacy of your scientific breakthroughs. Imagine being on the very cusp of glory and recognition, only to be thwarted- time, after time!" Another punch was blocked by Nate, but the angered Frenchman followed up immediately with his other fist, and Nate doubled over in pain. Garnier brought his knee up sharply, catching Nate under the chin, and Nate staggered back.
"You're getting slow," Garnier commented dryly. "I thought you were supposed to be good at this."
Nate wiped blood from his mouth and scowled. "You know what? How about you try fighting off an army of revolutionaries, a squadron of planes, being in a cable car as it gets shot down, and then going over a waterfall? Then come back and see me, and we'll revisit the topic."
The two men rushed at each other again, clashing in the shadow of Atlas, and each strike, each desperate and savage blow, was charged with the finality of a decisive battle to turn the tide of the future. Nate was mercilessly barraged by Garnier, and as the damage he took was slowly but steadily wearing away at his stamina he found himself slipping more and more into a defensive position. By contrast, the effects of the contaminated water from the Philosopher's Stone meant any hits he landed on Garnier did little or nothing to stop him, or even slow him down, and the scientist almost seemed to be getting more fervent and empowered as the fight wore on. As Nate ducked his head and used his battered forearms to absorb another bombardment of hits, Garnier resumed his impassioned monologue.
"Imagine, then, that after stumbling onto the scientific find of the millennium and beginning a noble quest to secure the very end to death itself, you are once again foiled at every turn by an idiot barbarian, his band of discount revolutionaries, and a rag-tag bunch of pretentious and meddling treasure hunters who think they're some kind of heroes!" The last word was punctuated with a particularly vicious hammer punch that clipped the top of Nate's forehead as he tried to block it. "Tell me," Garnier continued, his impassioned ranting settling into a deadly calm for a moment. "Being the thief that you are, what have you had to sacrifice recently?"
Nate's mouth settled into a frown as he looked his adversary in the eye. "More than you know, pal." Springing suddenly forward, he threw a straight punch at the scientist, who batted it aside. In a flash, Nate followed up with an uppercut to the underside of his chin, then grabbed Garnier by the collar and threw him. The Frenchman caromed off one of the marble trees, skidded across the floor on his side, and stopped up against Floki's corpse.
As Nate ran toward him, Garnier looked over at Floki's knife- still coated with blood- and snagged it from the Icelander's lifeless grasp. He slashed it through the air and Nate leaped aside, bending at the waist to avoid the evil-looking blade. "Whoa, watch it!" he cried as it passed unnervingly close to his midsection, grazing the tan denim of his pants as it crossed his thigh. Garnier lurched to his feet and thrust the crimson-covered blade at him; Nate grabbed his wrist and directed the tip of the weapon harmlessly to his side, then with his elbow he struck the Frenchman just under his left eye.
Garnier cursed, clapping a hand to his bruised cheekbone, and Nate dashed for the line of trees, intending to skip out on what was clearly a losing battle. He placed a hand on the silk-smooth carving as he pushed past, his eyes on the door, when suddenly a grenade dropped just a few yards ahead and he had just enough time to duck back behind the tree trunk with a startled yelp before the explosive went off. Shrapnel launched in all directions, pelting the carved tree and raining through its branches while Nate covered his face and eyes with his arms. His ears ringing from the explosion, Nate looked up as the dust settled and was startled to see the stone branches over him moving. Then came the sound of crumbling rock, and the tree he was hiding behind began to tilt towards him.
"Oh crap!" he yelled, leaping aside as the exquisite marble statue toppled and smashed on the floor. A piece of the rubble spun through the air and landed on him where he lay curled up on the ground, the rough edge slicing across his shoulder and gouging his cheek as it bounced off. Nate cursed, then rolled aside and pushed himself to his feet. His eyes followed several gold apples as they bounced and rolled across the floor before coming to rest near the figure of Garnier, who was smiling grimly at Nate as he grabbed the pin of another grenade.
"Oh no, my friend. You know nothing about sacrifice," the scientist said, his voice low.
"Hey, those things are not toys!" Nate yelled as a second grenade hurtled towards him and he took cover behind another tree.
"Oh, bloody hell!" Charlie muttered, shining his dim light at the fork in the tunnel ahead of him. "How am I s'posed to know which way she went, now?"
Indecisively, he shone his flashlight down first one tunnel, then the other, the meager beam of his dying light barely penetrating a dozen yards in the thick darkness. Something glinted on the ground as he switched it between the paths again, and he quickly turned it back to investigate.
"Hello," he muttered as he stooped down and picked up the little brass shell casing and turned it over in his fingers. "It's from Molly's gun!" Looking up and further down the tunnel, he noticed another shell a little ways down, jogged over to it, and picked it up as well. "She left a trail of them," he mused, shining the light down the hall and spotting the tell-tale glint of at least two more shells. "A trail of breadcrumbs..." his brows knitted together as he started running. "Either she was afraid of getting lost down here," he said to himself, "or she wanted to be followed!"
Nate lunged aside and rolled as yet another marble tree was destroyed by the onslaught of grenades Garnier had plundered from the bodies of Floki and his men. At this point, nearly the whole orchard had been flattened, and Nate was starting to worry about what he would do once all his cover was well and truly gone.
"You know, I feel like- at least in spirit- this still breaks some kind of responsible forestry laws!" he called out. Garnier responded by lobbing yet another grenade at him, which Nate again rushed to get away from. As the blast faded, Nate added, "Being a scientist and all, it seems like that would- maybe- ... bother you more than it does?"
He scrambled for more cover and tripped on a loose rock, landing on his backside on the ground. As Garnier picked up another grenade Nate clambered to his feet, using the rock wall of the cavern for support, and took a weary step back. The hair on the back of his neck prickled with a sudden, intense heat, and he stopped in his tracks.
"You! Will NOT! Stop the forward march of progress!" Garnier screamed at him. "And I will make my mark on the world of science!"
Nate risked a glance over his shoulder and was confirmed in his fears. Lava oozed from the wall behind him, a searing, red-hot menace taunting him with its imminent appearance. Garnier's mind, Nate knew, was far too enraged, not to mention distorted by the water, to notice or care about the repercussions of what he was about to do.
"Oh, shit!" Nate yelled, making a break directly toward his opponent as the grenade sailed past and landed at the foot of the wall.
The explosion racked the chamber, the shock wave making Nate stumble, and as the noise died down it was replaced with the increasing sound of crumbling and breaking rock. Nate did not have to look back to know what was happening.
"AhhhhHHHHH crapcrapcrap!" he shoved himself to his feet and barreled blindly toward the raised portion at the perimeter of the room. In the flurry of movement, he saw Garnier running beside him and felt the scorching heat of the lava as it caught up with them just as he set foot on the bottom step. Screaming, Nate flung himself forward and rolled hard against a stone wall, banging his knees and his head as he did. For a moment the world swirled in front of him as he rolled onto his back and stared upward, then the indistinct shapes suddenly snapped into crystal-clarity in the form of Garnier looming over him with the blood-stained knife poised to drive into his stomach. "Gah!" Nate rolled onto his side, barely avoiding the blade as it came down, then he kicked out with his left boot and caught Garnier's collarbone. As the scientist recoiled with the force of the kick, Nate grabbed onto the knee wall surrounding the pool in front of the serpent and used it to clamber to his feet, but before he could get away he felt the knife bite into his skin. An explosion of pain radiated out as it sliced from just under his left arm, around his side, and down his back to his waistline before finally deflecting off his leather belt. Nate cried out in pain and collapsed to his knees while holding himself up on the wall with his arms, his vision swirling for a moment as the raw, burning sensation washed over him.
A casually-delivered kick to his shoulder sent him sprawling on the ground again, and Nate gritted his teeth against the pain. Turning over once more, he saw Garnier standing over him once more, this time with the knife held at his side and a satisfied smirk on his face. "Such a valiant effort," the Frenchman tutted. "Only to be wasted in the end."
A gurgling noise from off to the side briefly caught Nate's attention, and he looked over to see a bubble of volcanic gas belch up from the surface of the lava, which had risen to about the level of the second step down and then apparently stopped. The heat scorched his face, making his skin feel raw, and he let his head flop wearily back onto the stone floor.
This was not how he was hoping this would go.
"You see, Mr Drake, how futile it is to continue fighting," Garnier said with a patronizing smile. "You cannot defeat that which is invincible."
Nate frowned and pushed himself up on his elbows. "Maybe not," he said, his voice quavering as he dug deep for resolve. "But I can sure try."
Garnier scoffed and glowered at him. After a moment he spun a quarter turn on his heel and faced the serpent statue. "A noble sentiment," he said flatly, his voice betraying that he thought otherwise. "I'd admire you... if it wasn't so utterly stupid."
Nate watched as Garnier took a tentative step over the short stone wall and into the pool. Alright, he thought. As long as he's gonna do his whole villain monologue thing, no harm in taking a break for a minute, right Nate? Get nice and rested for... round two... Inwardly, he groaned at the mere thought of it.
Garnier sucked air through his teeth as the frigid water soaked his pant leg halfway up his calf, but after a moment he put his other leg in and then waded over to the stone serpent from which the water was flowing. "Sadly," the scientist continued, "your inordinate qualms about the dangers of this artifact are not only laughable, they're tragic in their own right." He reached out and stroked his fingers gently across the polished surface of the Philosopher's Stone, watching the water divide around his fingertips as it flowed around the mercury globe, and his expression turned to one of tenderness, like he was caressing the face of a lover. "After all, if you die here, you die next to the very thing which grants eternal life." He snorted in derision. "Such a fool's errand you're on."
He cupped his hands around both sides of the little sphere and gave it a tentative pull. "Now, the power within this stone will be used to truly benefit mankind!"
Nate eyed the stone warily. "III, wouldn't do that if I was you." he warned.
But Garnier wasn't listening. Eyes rapt on the stone, he wriggled the quicksilver orb free of the serpent's fangs. "With this stone," he said, holding it aloft with a look of crazed wonder, "I will cure humanity of the one sickness all have been infected with- death- and with its ability to turn common objects to gold, I will render poverty a thing of the past! I will solve all of mankind's problems, and by the end of it everyone will know my name! The glory I so deserve will be mine- eternally!"
As Nate looked on, Garnier turned to face him, leering down at him. The lava cast an eerie glow on his greying, ashen skin and the dark, dark bloom of red blood on his white shirt, and for a moment Nathan was really, truly, afraid. This was not the frail, timid scientist who had been chasing him across the globe. Not anymore, that is.
Nate was in deep, deep trouble.
Then he saw the way the stone was starting to lose it's shape, becoming soft and malformed as the intense heat of the chamber melted the volatile mercury. Garnier noticed too, and looked in incomprehension as drips began to run down the side and the stone sagged in his grasp. "What the- what is going on?" the Frenchman sputtered.
A rumbling and a crash made Nate look out over the room. The multiple explosions had caused the cavernous chamber to become unstable, and two chunks of the ceiling fell with a hiss and a splash into the lava below. Nate clenched his teeth grimly and looked back at his opponent as the Philosopher's Stone continued to liquefy, running down the scientist's arms, staining his sleeves as well as his very skin a disturbing, silvery gray color. "NO!" Garnier cried in horror as the object of his desire was reduced to a puddle on the ground. He dropped to his knees, his palms flat in the pool of mercury as he hung his head and nearly whimpered, "It cannot be! How did this happen?" He slowly lifted his hands to look at them, agonizing as he lingered on the glistening silver residue that now coated them.
Taking that as his cue, Nate set his jaw in determination and pushed himself to his feet. "I tried to warn you," he said. "Being a scientist and all, you should know what happens when you expose mercury to this kind of heat." He rolled his shoulders and assumed a fighting stance. "C'mon, Frenchy," he bit out, leveling a death glare at him. "Let's go."
Garnier lifted his eyes and looked at Nate from behind his wild bangs, pure hate oozing from his pores. With a roar of fury, he flung himself forward, slashing the blood stained knife twice, while Nate carefully dodged. Locking hands with him, Nate wrestled Garnier back toward the pool, but both men were suddenly knocked off-balance by a violent tremor that shook the ground. As the two men staggered away from each other, Nate glanced back in time to see a huge rock fall from the ceiling and strike the statue of Atlas on the crook of its arm. The marble cracked, then split apart as the titan's muscular limb fell in two and Atlas' forearm dropped into the lava, upsetting the balance of the celestial globe that symbolized the sky on his shoulders. Nate's eyes widened, his mouth opening in an "o" as he watched the massive bronze astrolabe tilt, then roll across Atlas' broad shoulders before dropping off and landing in the lava with an catastrophic splash, sending ripples radiating out in every direction.
"Oh, you've gotta be shittin' me!" Nate yelled.
The astrolabe continued to roll, coming towards them along with the waves of lava. Nate and Garnier both leaped onto the knee wall around the pool as the first swell of molten rock washed over the floor they had stood on, but it was unclear whether they would be so lucky to escape the next where they were. Screaming as the incoming lava rushed toward them, Nate and Garnier both leaped out from the wall and just barely managed to reach the bronze axis band of the astrolabe as it passed close to them. Nate flailed as the giant ball continued to roll, and for a moment he thought it would tip too far and dump them both off. Then it stopped. Nate pulled himself up, windmilling his arms as he fought for balance on the awkwardly-pitched band, and then looked down the axis about fifteen feet where Garnier stood, wielding the knife and with a look of absolutely venomous murder in his eyes.
Nate sighed. "Ahhh, this is gonna suck!"
"Yeah, this totally sucks, mate!" Chloe yelled over the sound of gunfire. Each bullet disappeared into the raging inferno that the stairs had become after shooting several Greek Fire grenades out of the sheer necessity of keeping the guardians at bay. "Worst bloody job ever! Even if any of them make it back, there's no way they'll make it up the stairs now! All three of them are bloody deadmen!"
Sully stoically stood beside her, firing his revolver at any flash of movement he saw in the flames. "Well, knowing Na-" he stopped, his mouth snapping shut as he squeezed off a few more shots. Chloe glanced over at him in concern, but after a moment he continued, his expression as stony as ever. "Knowing the way things usually go, this whole place is gonna come crashing down around us at any moment!" he growled. "With any luck, maybe it'll open up a hole in the floor that Cutter and the girl can climb through."
Chloe frowned, casting another look askance at Sully as she considered the sheer force of self-control in those words that steadily and deliberately avoided the mention of his surrogate son. Popping the clip out of her gun and immediately replacing it, she asked, "How much longer d'ya think we can hold out."
Sully ducked back out of the mouth of the stairwell so he could reload, and he looked at Chloe from under furrowed brows. "I dunno," he said gravely. "But I know that they had all better hurry!"
The knife flashed, blows swung, and the two men continued to spar on the narrow bronze band above the roiling magma below. Nate's thin Henley was drenched in sweat and clung to him like a second skin, his body ached from the constant punishment, and his head was beginning to feel woozy- and he knew the poisonous volcanic gases were starting to get to him. In short: if this didn't end soon, he was One. Screwed. Hombre.
Nate shoved the blade aside as Garnier took another stab at him, but he was too slow to dodge the headbutt that came right after. As he reeled back, the scientist swung again and punched him off the edge, only for Nate to grab hold as he fell. More stones fell from the roof of the chamber and the astrolabe rolled, pitching the band just as Garnier attempted to stomp Nate's fingers. While the Frenchman grabbed onto one of the wire-like meridian lines to anchor himself, Nate hooked his feet on either side of the now-angled band and slid down the outside of the axis to a spot below his opponent. The giant sphere shifted again, coming more into level, and Nate pulled himself up as Garnier turned and scowled at him.
"You're nothing but a pathetic little insect, buying yourself measly little moments of time before your inevitable defeat!" the enraged scientist growled.
As Nate, winded and weary, gained his footing again, he made a half-hearted attempt at formulating a comeback, but found that his well-spent brain was unable to conjure up something. So instead, he settled for the pettiest of childhood retorts straight from his days in the Catholic Boy's Home: "I know you are," he panted, "but what am I?"
Garnier rushed at him with another flurry of punches and slashes, driving him back along the axis until a hit got past Nate's defense. Before he could recover from the punch to the jaw, Nate felt his adversary grab the back of his shirt and throw him, and a moment later Nate found himself dangling from a meridian wire with one hand. The astrolabe rolled again as another tremor shook the floor, and suddenly Nate was lifted high above Garnier, flailing to grab on with his other hand and swinging his body to build momentum. As the giant orb began to shift once more, Nate flung himself off and came down on top of Garnier with a crushing blow that sent him sprawling backward and nearly over the edge. The Frenchman angrily picked himself up, and Nate shook his head and tried to ready himself for another round.
"Alright," he wheezed as he eyed the crazed scientist. "For being such a small guy, you're pretty good." Leaning on one of the meridians of the astrolabe to support himself, he faced Garnier, his chest heaving. "You gotta admit, though, the whole 'not being able to die anymore' thing is kind of a big advantage. Just sayin'."
Garnier charged. Nate braced himself, his addled mind giving directions to a body that felt like it was swimming in molasses. Dodge! Block! Watch that knife... Block, punch, dod-
"AGHHH!" Nate's scream pierced the air as white-hot pain blinded him for a moment. The shock of sudden, overwhelmingly intense pain rendered his thought processes a kaleidoscope of nauseating color that swirled inside him, unable to grasp what had happened or even do anything besides groan weakly. As the stars cleared from his vision he looked down and saw Garnier's fist pressed to his chest with something in his hand. A knife. He had a knife in his hand. That knife was now buried in Nate's chest.
Certainly explains the pain, Nate thought sardonically.
"Ugh!" he grunted in agony as the Frenchman drove him back against the perpendicular axis, keeping the blade firmly lodged in his chest as he did. Nate felt the color draining from his face even as the blood soaked his shirt, and Garnier leaned in close, his uncannily gray-colored face inches from Nate's. "Finished!" he hissed, his toxin-induced graveliness thick with venom. Retracting the knife suddenly, he stepped back as Nate slid down the bronze beam into a crumpled sitting position. The scientist ran a hand through his hair, slicking back the bangs that had fallen over his face, and he smiled in satisfaction. Nate groaned, his chest rising and falling rapidly with shallow breaths as he locked eyes with the Frenchman. "You may have cost me the stone," Garnier spat, "but you will not cost me my dream!" Raising the knife again, he added solemnly, "Goodbye, Nathan Drake."
In the next moment, several things all happened at once. Garnier lunged forward to deliver the finishing blow, Nate summoned the strength to stick his leg out to fend him off, and a massive chunk of the ceiling dropped, striking off the top of the astrolabe with a deafening clang. As Garnier ran stomach-first into Nate's foot, the bronze sphere also tilted dangerously from the impact, throwing both men to the side. Nate weakly grabbed for a handhold as Garnier fell, tumbling down the axis and bouncing off a meridian line before plummeting into the lava below, his scream going silent as he disappeared beneath the surface. As the astrolabe rolled, the thick axis band came to rest right on the spot the scientist had fallen, pinning his body to the ground as it stopped. Then- the room fell silent.
Acrid black smoke drifted up, swirling around Nate as he dangled from a meridian line, still in shock from what had just happened and the hellscape that surrounded him. As his fingers began to slip, he realized he was only hanging from one hand and reached up to take hold with the other. Nate saw that the giant sphere had ended up close to the raised stone around the perimeter and by the pool, and he began to swing his body to gain momentum. Every movement sent shooting pain throughout his body from the stab wound, but he gritted his teeth and pushed through. Flinging himself from the astrolabe, he tumbled clumsily through the air and half-landed, half collapsed on the stone before rolling ungracefully against the knee wall and banging himself up even more in the process.
For a moment, he just laid there. Eyes closed, eyes open- he could hardly tell the difference. Everything was black and red and hurting. Slowly, agonizingly, he drug himself up the knee wall at the edge of the pool, pausing as dizziness overwhelmed him when he was on his knees. "Stupid!" he cursed himself in frustration. "I'll never make it to those explosives- I can barely even stand up!" When the feeling subsided and he opened his eyes again, he found himself face to face with his own reflection, staring back at him from the still spring water. He looked terrible: face ghostly white and covered in sweat, his shirt soaked with blood... It was a man half-dead that stared back at him from that inordinately tranquil, frigid pool of water. "
If you die here, you die by the very thing that grants eternal life..." Garnier's words came back to him, the Frenchman's mocking tone drifting through his mind. Maybe he was right.
Nate spotted the goblet Garnier had discarded earlier laying in the corner. Rising carefully to his feet, Nate walked shakily over and picked it up, then bent down and swiped it through the water to fill it. The cold water almost seemed to burn his overheated, clammy skin as his hand came in contact with it, making him inhale sharply. He lifted the cup, staring into the deceptively pure-looking water as it shimmered inside, and he stopped. He thought about the horrifying implications truly eternal life held for all those Atlanteans buried alive in the lava, and for those that still would be if he succeeded. The implications it held for Garnier, trapped under a giant astrolabe at the bottom of a sea of fire, and for him, if he drank this. Because, after all, the only thing worse than dying in a volcano is not dying in a volcano. But Nate's aching, weary body told him that he didn't have it in him to make it much farther, and if he didn't activate those explosives then everything he had just done was for nothing, and both his friends and the world were doomed. So he shut his eyes, took a deep, steeling breath, and told himself, "It's for them. For the gang, for Sully, and-" He stopped, watery eyes snapping open as he swallowed a lump in his throat. "For Elena!" Then he lifted the goblet, putting the gilded edge to his mouth, and tilted his head back until the cold, cold water touched his lips.
BANG! The cup flew forcefully from his hand, spinning crazily through the air before landing in the lava with a hiss of steam as the gunshot rang through the chamber, violently splitting the relative silence. Nate cried out and clutched at his hand as it throbbed with the painful shock waves of the impact, and in confusion he looked for the source of the shot. From the side, through an open door, Molly Greene strode determinedly into the chamber, her .45 defender still smoking and raised from firing. "DON'T- drink that!" she warned sternly.
Nate gawked in confusion. "M-Molly?" he sputtered. "The hell are you doing here?"
"Relieving you of your duty," she said flatly as she lowered the gun to her side. "And I won't take 'no' for an answer."
Nate stared. "No!" he said suddenly, shaking his head. "No no no! Not happening!" He crossed his arms over his chest. "Go, Molly. Get out of here- now!"
Gritting her teeth, Molly replied, "Nate, I told you- I will not take no for an-"
"And I won't take it either!" he said, raising his voice. "I got us into this mess, Molly, and I'm going to get us out! Now go!"
Molly scowled at him, but suddenly her scowl turned to a coy smile. "Fine," she said, slipping her gun into its holster. "But if you want me to leave, you'll have to make me!" She mirrored Nate's pose, crossing her arms and jutting one hip out defiantly.
Narrowing his eyes, Nate growled in frustration as he regarded her stubborn behavior. Why did everything have to be so god damn hard? With anger fueling his battered body, he stormed over and grabbed her by the arm, expecting her to resist, but instead she peacefully followed him as he led her to one of the open doors at the edge of the room, muttering a string of curses under his breath the whole way. "Goodbye, Molly," he growled as he moved to push her out into the tunnel. "I'm sorry you had to get involved in this."
Suddenly, though, she pulled away and slipped behind him all in one quick movement, and before he could react she shoved him forward through the door instead. He spun around to face her and was met with a very determined look and the barrel of her pistol. "Leave, Nathan," she said, calmly yet forcefully. "You still have more life to live."
He scoffed in disbelief and shook his head. "What are you talking about?" he said in a low voice. "My whole life's a goddamn train wreck!"
"Nate!" she interjected sharply. He met her intense, even gaze, her green eyes burning into his blue ones as she said, "Never argue with a woman who saw your future."
Nate stared speechlessly, unsure how to respond as the weight of her words sunk in. As he looked on dumbfounded, Molly suddenly looked behind him and then seemed to reach a decision of some kind. "It's been an honor, Nate," she said, her stance relaxing as she took a small step toward him. "I'm sorry about this."
His brows furrowed in confusion, then she abruptly pistol-whipped him and he slumped unconscious against the wall of the tunnel. Molly lingered a moment, casting a final, affectionate look on him, and then she slipped back into the chamber and shut the door from inside as footsteps approached from down the tunnel.
Holy heck, that got long! Glad I decided to split it! So, anyways... Merry Christmas? Sorry...
One more chapter, an epilogue, and then chapter 33 is a little... different!
You may not see anything from me for the next month or so. I'm busy with helping organize stuff for my sister-in-law's wedding on top of my normal workload, plus my family's taking a trip the end of January. But I'll be back as soon as I can with the last bit of this story as well as more on Sixth Sun! Be safe, everyone!