In the heart of the desolate Continental Wasteland, a stark truth reigns supreme: if it breathes, it bleeds; if it bleeds, it meets its end. This harsh reality courses through every corner of the unforgiving land, a testament to a way of life that's as ruthless as it is pragmatic.
A thunderous explosion shattered the air, as expected. The bullet, a messenger of destruction, disintegrated upon encountering the invisible shield of power that enveloped her. Yet, the ensuing fiery burst, born from the collision, did its job admirably. The Kindred's anguished cry was like sweet music to his ears – a sign that his plan was on course.
That single shot had shaken her, piercing her formidable facade. And with a calculated precision, he readied himself for the coup de grâce, determined to end the Kindred's acts of terror once and for all.
A second gunshot erupted, but fate had different designs this time. The bullet whizzed past the agitated Kindred, her senses honed to detect the threat that now hunted her. He could almost hear Boone's reproachful voice if he were here – a missed shot was an opportunity surrendered. Regaining his composure, he melded with the shadows, a figure draped in leather and resolve.
Seeking the refuge of a wooden wagon's rear, he found his new vantage point. Another elevated shot was necessary to remain unseen by the vigilant Kindred. He aimed, he focused, and he fired.
The echo of the rifle's report was followed by a seismic impact. His shot found its mark – not through brute force, but through cunning. The arcane shield yielded not to the bullet's might, yet the incendiary payload it carried ignited upon impact. Flames enveloped her back and wings, her agony manifest in her erratic flight.
Like a plummeting comet, she descended, gravity's inexorable pull dragging her to the barren ground below. The moment was seized by Captain Ramos, a tactical mind not one to squander opportunity. "She's down!" she bellowed, rallying her forces. "Soldiers, encircle her! Mages, conjure your spells!"
The enigma of the Courier's strategy danced on the periphery of her mind. How had he managed such a feat? Questions could wait; the prospect of victory could not. Saber in hand, she joined her comrades, forming a tight ring around the fallen Succubus.
"Look out! She's recovering!" warned a fellow militia member. With uncanny focus, the Succubus channeled ethereal energies, a sight that didn't escape the mages' trained eyes.
Amidst the chaos, a sharp command cut through the air, cleaving the tension like a blade. "Mages, cast your warding spells now!" The urgency in the female mage's voice was palpable as she directed her magical companions. Wands rose skyward, glowing with arcane energy, as her peers followed suit.
From his strategic vantage point, the Courier's keen eyes captured a mesmerizing sight. Hexagonal patterns intertwined in the air, weaving a web of magic that gradually morphed into an imposing dome. His deduction was swift as he recognized the figure standing at its heart.
"You really think your feeble spells can hold me?" The Kindred's voice echoed, a twisted version of the Private's tones infused with a sinister edge. She sneered at the mages' efforts, her words dripping with mockery. "I am a Kindred, a vessel of raw demonic power! Your human sorcery is nothing but cheap tricks!"
With a defiant roar, she unleashed her malevolent power, a torrent of energy crashing against the mages' conjured barrier. The dome fractured and shattered like glass before an irresistible force, succumbing to the sheer might of her onslaught. A surge of dark energy surged back towards the mages, shattering their control over the arcane arts.
Human cries resonated, a chorus of pain in the face of the infernal assault. Captain Ramos, strong-willed and unwavering, was but one of many who bore the brunt of the onslaught. But amidst the chaos, a guiding light emerged – Joanna, a priestess of unyielding resolve. Swiftly, she invoked a protective miracle, enveloping the captain in an ethereal shield.
In the midst of this turmoil, Joanna's sudden appearance brought both surprise and relief. The captain's brow furrowed in a mix of confusion and gratitude. "Joanna? What are you doing here?"
With a reassuring smile, Joanna's reply was resolute. "I've come to lend a hand."
Captain Ramos' eyes widened in realization. "But Mr. Six..."
"He's alright. In fact, we owe him for taking down this monstrosity," Joanna interjected, her voice radiating gratitude.
The captain shook her head, a mixture of emotions swirling within her. "I had a feeling he would be. Whatever he did, it's helped. And thank you, Joanna."
A brief pause hung in the air before Joanna continued, her tone tinged with purpose. "Some of my people are working to counter the demonic influence. They're being led by your Lieutenants."
A furrowed brow yielded to a flash of understanding. "My Lieutenants? But they're... some of them are men. How could they..."
A smile curved Joanna's lips as she provided the answer. "Thanks to Mr. Six. He had a way to break the demonic hold, a sort of... antidote."
The captain's eyes widened in surprise. "That's incredible news!"
Joanna's smile was tempered by a hint of disappointment. "It is, but the antidote is limited. I need to go tend to those who are still struggling. Please, Ariel, take care of yourself."
As Joanna's grip conveyed determination and strength, Captain Ramos met her gaze with equal resolve. "I will. You stay safe, Joanna."
And in that shared exchange, an unspoken promise resonated – a pledge to stand strong, no matter the odds.
With determination etched on her face, Captain Ramos clenched her saber, her fingers white-knuckled and resolute. She swiftly organized her forces, particularly singling out those armed with ranged weaponry like bows and slings. Her unwavering focus was crystal clear – she needed to dispatch the Succubus swiftly, leaving no room for hesitation.
The mages, a pillar of defense, exhibited their prowess by warding off the supernatural onslaught. Their arcane shields blocked the Succubus's magical assaults, even as they devised their own retaliatory strategies. In the midst of their synchronized efforts, Captain Ramos orchestrated the traditional assault, leading her soldiers to confront the monster head-on.
As the battle's architect, she recognized the complexity of their task. The Succubus was a formidable foe, not easily subdued. The delicate balance between offense and defense was the crux of her strategic contemplation.
Captain Ramos's thoughts spilled into a muted murmur, her words a blend of hope and urgency. "Mr. Six, if you have any more plans, now would be a great time to use them."
Miraculously, her plea was not left unanswered. The thread of anticipation that had woven itself around the battlefield found its release as a new development unfurled.
Diving headfirst into a world utterly foreign to his own was a trip, especially when it came to the technological landscape.
If he were to be honest, the new society's level of tech left much to be desired in his eyes. Somehow, they seemed to have parked themselves in a technological era that could be generously described as late renaissance with a hint of medieval aesthetics.
Electricity was a luxury they hadn't quite figured out, yet their grasp of key industries like agriculture, trade, and production set them apart from some of the more insular tribal communities he knew back home.
But let's be real – he'd spent a good chunk of his life surrounded by intricate gadgets and contraptions designed to streamline every facet of living. So, forgive him if this low-tech reality was a tough pill to swallow.
Vegas might have its share of tribal pockets, but even those folks had managed to cling onto pre-war tech that could pass as downright futuristic in this neck of the woods.
Still, he hadn't done the grand tour of this brave new world, so he was holding off judgment for now. While they might not boast the tech marvels of his home turf, these people seemed to have mastered the art of doing things their own way.
Adaptation was the name of the game. The unique solutions they'd crafted to navigate a tech-light existence intrigued him. After all, who needed high-tech gizmos when you could find ingenious workarounds that stood as their own kind of marvels?
Over at Argento, a vigilant sentry held his post atop the city's tallest watchtower. His gaze was amplified by a novel tool, a binocular, generously bestowed upon them by the enigmatic stranger who had been aiding their cause.
This ingenious device unlocked the panorama before him, revealing vistas and distances that once lay beyond their reach. Tonight, however, its significance proved paramount.
A luminous streak of red, reminiscent of a shooting star but shooting upwards, streaked skyward from a distant point. The brilliance of this display was so intense that it commanded attention even without the assistance of the telescopic marvel.
Lowering the binoculars, the sentry's resolve was unwavering as he issued swift commands that reverberated through the night. His fellow guards sprang into action, a well-practiced symphony of response to a call they all understood.
Amidst the field, Courier Six stood poised, flare gun in hand. He smoothly ejected the spent casing before stowing the now-empty firearm in his inventory.
"Hey, check out the sky!"
"What's going on?!"
"It's a flare, I think!"
Good. People were catching on.
Instantly, the campsite's energy transformed. No longer fixated on countering the menacing Kindred, everyone executed a sharp about-face, converging towards the treeline and overgrowth.
Thanks to the officers enlisted by the Priestess with the aid of his restorative drugs, the scene avoided devolving into a chaotic stampede.
"Mr. Six!" Captain Ramos sprinted towards him, accompanied by a small group of militia members.
He acknowledged her with a wave, signaling for her not to worry. Her swift nod affirmed their understanding. As she hurried away, his gaze lingered on her retreating form for a fleeting moment.
Realistically, he should be hightailing it just like everyone else. Why wasn't he? Glancing upward, the Courier witnessed a cluster of azure orbs plummeting towards his position, leaving luminous trails in their wake.
"Quick," he muttered, hitting the ground without hesitation.
Amid the chaos, a recently awakened Succubus found herself bewildered by the sudden reversal of human behavior. These same individuals who had been fervently reaching out to her were now fleeing in panic. Her senses absorbed their fear, their desperation, but something was off. Her new body granted her the remarkable ability to taste emotions – fear, elation, and, oddly, even arousal.
Indeed, in the face of danger, some humans found a twisted kind of excitement. However, this time, their fear seemed misplaced, as if it wasn't directed solely at her.
A shiver of unease slithered up her spine, compelling her to pivot and face the source.
But it was too late.
Into the night sky ascended titanic columns of azure magic, their trajectory suddenly altered to streak like celestial retribution, a divine wrath bestowed from the heavens.
Her eyes widened, capturing the dazzling spectacle as it unfolded before her.
Ordinarily, human-crafted spells wouldn't perturb her much; her reawakened form endowed her with profound magical resistance. But she knew better than to face this onslaught head-on. With agility born of survival, she sought refuge.
Regrettably, it availed her naught.
A visceral scream tore through the air as the magical artillery smashed through her invisible defenses, shattering them without mercy. If only it had concluded there, she might have clung to a fragment of hope. But fate had other designs.
Catapulted into the air by the initial impact, she plummeted back to earth, her body searing from the magical onslaught. The agonizing pain coursed through her, rendering her helpless as the sky continued to blaze with lethal arcs of blue sorcery.
"No... no... no, no, no, no, no!" Her voice wavered with desperation, a crescendo of terror as she bore witness to the relentless magical onslaught that left her battered and defenseless.
From a distance, just beyond the range of the magical artillery's reach, a resolute Courier who had narrowly escaped death watched the unfolding spectacle. Their former campsite was rapidly transforming into a terrain of toppled trees and craters, a canvas painted by the onslaught.
Each resonating artillery spell sent tremors coursing through the earth, reverberating through the ground, and jolting up through their very bones. The rhythm was akin to enduring an earthquake every few seconds, each tremor followed by a cacophony of explosive detonations that could unsettle even the most unshakable of soldiers.
While the Courier was seasoned in weathering the sensory assault of artillery fire, the same could not be said for the militia gathered nearby.
"Unbelievable…" marveled one of the militia members, swept up in a mixture of awe and disbelief.
"Can you imagine? We were just there moments ago…" mumbled another, the memory of proximity making them shudder.
Dark thoughts of what might have been slower crossed the minds of some, an acknowledgment of the perilous closeness to disaster.
However, a consensus emerged amidst the chaos – the introduction of the magical artillery into the field wasn't an error; it was a revelation. It bore the promise of a novel strategy, dubbed 'Death From Above', fundamentally reshaping the rules of engagement. No longer would they remain vulnerable and powerless beyond their settlement's protective walls.
As the acrid smoke began to clear, revealing the aftermath of the barrage, the militia's soldiers gradually grasped the game-changing implications. Craters marred the once-pristine expanse that had served as their campsite, rendering it virtually unrecognizable.
Trees stood uprooted, and soil had been gouged away, exposing the hidden rock beneath. Despite the unfortunate loss of their equipment, understandable given the dire circumstances, they recognized the necessity of collateral damage.
Contemplating the enormity of destruction unleashed in such a brief span, from a distance far removed, they couldn't help but envision the potential. This arsenal, if employed against known enemy strongholds, could spare lives otherwise sacrificed in futile battles against unbeatable adversaries.
"Were your fights always this… decisive?" The Captain of Argento's militia asked, her voice notably subdued.
Beside her, Priestess Joanna watched on with a muted expression, a vacant look on her face.
"Only the good ones."
"There are good fights?" Priestess Joana asked almost immediately.
"...surprisingly, yes. Not a lot of them, but there definitely are good fights." The Courier said, his already distorted voice sounding even more detached than usual. "But I can say for certain that none of them were bloodless."
That struck a chord in the two women's being. The total casualty count – including those who suffered injuries – were in the tens. There were around eighty of them before. So many casualties born out of something that was supposed to be a training exercise made that number almost inexcusable.
They say the price of learning was effort. Not this time; it didn't feel like. It just felt like they just got robbed.
"We need to get back as soon as we can," Captain Ramos said while exhaling through her nose, "get the injured the treatment and care they need and… bury the ones that didn't make it."
Priestess Joanna didn't say anything, her silence alone conveyed what she was currently feeling.
"What about the Private?"
Captain Ramos's frowned even deeper hearing the Courier's question.
"We can't hide what happened here from the troops, and who knows how quick it'll take for news to spread to the public." It's almost guaranteed at this point.
"I don't want to tell you how to do your job, Captain, but I have a suggestion."
Captain Ramos turned to look at the darkly clad stranger. He'd never failed her and her people then, she had no reason not to listen to what he had to say.
"We have a saying where I come from. 'Loose lips sink ships.'"
A clever analogy, likening their group to a ship, highlighting how a single disclosure could jeopardize them all.
"Make it so that anyone who talks about this incident will get a disciplinary action and make sure they know you're serious about it. It won't guarantee news wouldn't spread, but it will make them think twice before they speak."
She saw the wisdom in that. It wasn't unreasonable at all for them to want to keep what really happened here under wrap and out of the public knowledge.
The last thing they need was another case of public panic. Disciplinary actions were an expected result for a breach in behavior or disorderly conduct within a military organization, after all.
"Advice taken."
"Not an advice," the Courier corrected, adjusting the strap of his wrist-mounted apparatus, "me giving you advice would imply I'm your superior; something I am clearly not. Consider it more of a nudge in the right direction."
"But you do sound like you know what you were talking about." The Captain commented approvingly. "You have an experience leading?"
The Courier did not reply to the question immediately. To her, it was almost as if he was brought to a place somewhere within his memories.
"...something like that." The man in dark armor finally said, a hint of musing in his voice.
Sensing the depths beneath his words, the Captain chose not to pry further.
"You called for me?" The Courier's distorted voice inquired in its typical disinterested tone.
No matter how frequently she had encountered him during his time here, Leah could never acclimate to the sight of the tall figure clad in dark armor, with eyes that glowed in a muted red haze.
"I did, and I appreciate your effort in coming here," If anyone happened to observe her, they would likely remark on her unusually formal demeanor. Nevertheless, given all the assistance he had provided them, the person standing before her had more than warranted her respect. "I'm aware that it hasn't been three days since our most recent incident, but regrettably, we find ourselves in need of your assistance once more."
"I'm assuming it has something to do with that journal we found in that girl's belongings?"
"Exactly." Leah confirmed with a nod. "We have done everything we could to get more clues from the book itself, and we've just about ran out of things to scrutinize. We have questioned just about everyone who was close to the Private, and all of them said the same thing: she'd always kept that journal a private affair, even threatening violence should any of them ever read it."
"Understandable," the Courier chimed in, thinking about the contents that were written in there.
"Which brings us to our next problem." Leah sighed, making it look like she had just aged without having done so physically. "We've assigned people to find out more about this paraphernalia that was mentioned in the journal, including this 'Hernandez' figure… and so far? They've discovered nothing."
"So, what do you want me to do exactly?"
This time, Leah's cherub-like face broke into a slight grin.
"Come on, don't be coy," Leah began with a knowing tone, "we all know you're a jack of all trades. You can fight, tinker with stuff, come up with plans... I have a feeling doing a bit of detective work wouldn't be too out of character for you."
If it weren't for the mask covering the Courier's face, Leah would've noticed the blank expression.
"...I'm glad that you think I'm pretty handy-"
"No problem at all!"
"-but I'm kind of a stranger around here." The Courier told Leah, crossing his arms. "I'm just some random person who showed up here not even a month ago. Why would folks even want to talk to me?"
"Well, that's where you're mistaken, Mr. Six." Leah teased, pointing a finger. "You're not just any stranger who wandered in. You're the stranger who rolled in right when we were under attack by those crazy monsters! That's definitely not 'just nothing'!"
Despite his confidence in his investigative abilities, the Courier couldn't shake off his reservations about interacting with the regular civilians.
His observations led him to a conclusion: the day-to-day people in this place lacked the hardiness and danger-savviness that characterized the wasteland dwellers he was used to back home. While they dealt with Kindred raids and their consequences, there was a distinct absence of the toughness ingrained in most wastelanders.
In essence, he realized he'd be fortunate to find someone willing to have a conversation without being instantly intimidated by his appearance. It seemed that Leah was gradually grasping his perspective.
"Hm... I mean, you do give off vibes like you'd break someone's head if they so much as glanced at you the wrong way..."
Leah's not-so-inner thoughts voiced rudeness, even by his standards.
"But that just means you'll need someone to do the talking!" Leah then brought her hands together, intertwining her fingers while simultaneously resting her chin on top of her knuckles.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
"Enter!" Leah's voice carried a note of authority, though still friendly.
The Elder's office door swung open, revealing a familiar face. Rosa entered, her surprise evident when she saw the Courier present as well.
"Leah, you said you needed to talk. Why didn't you just—Mr. Six?!" Rosa's exclamation held genuine surprise. Her casual attire exuded a blend of modesty and style, with a green blouse and a long, elegant yellow skirt. A brooch with a captivating red gem adorned her blouse's collar.
The Courier acknowledged Rosa's greeting with a slight nod, his masked face impassive, though he couldn't help but notice the unexpected nature of her appearance. She should have been attending to the reception downstairs.
Leah's mischievous tone couldn't be concealed. "Ah, my dear Rosa, you've arrived at the perfect time! I was starting to think you might be too preoccupied with a gentleman."
Rosa's cheeks freckled with redness, and she pinched her forehead in mild frustration. Leah's playful teasing had its limits.
"E-Elder," Rosa corrected herself, aware of their company, "you know there's no one like that in my life!"
Leah's laughter danced through the room. "How can I be so sure, my dear? You're growing up quickly, and who's to say what mischief you might be up to?"
"Leah..." Rosa's embarrassment was palpable, and she abandoned formalities, using Leah's name.
With a smirk, Leah relented. "Alright, I'll spare you. For now."
Exhaling in relief, Rosa hoped Leah would stick to her word. As much as she cherished Leah's presence, her habit of embarrassing her was something she could live without, especially in front of others.
Leah shifted her tone, getting to the real reason for calling Rosa. "Now, my little rose, as much as I'd love to hear about your day, there's a matter we must discuss."
Knowing Leah well, Rosa sensed the shift and grew serious. "What is it?"
"Firstly, I'm sure you're already aware that Private Lara's death wasn't as the militia portrayed it," Leah began.
Mr. Six's interest piqued. Rosa's connection with the Elder was clearer now, and it seemed she had suspicions about the militia's story. Maybe she had connections there, or perhaps her sharp mind had discerned the truth.
Leah's voice lowered. "It was done intentionally, with my approval."
"What? Why..."
"Because there's a very high chance that Demonic elements were involved, Rosa." The use of her name instead of the affectionate title was enough to stop her from firing off another word. Rosa looked at her former caretaker's and now best friend's face. It was one of those rare instances when Leah looked serious. "You are a smart girl, so you should be able to put two to two together and figure out why I approved of that decision."
Though Rosa wanted to question further, Leah's explanation made sense. She had been there at the company of close friends who had lost family members or even other friends to the most recent raid. It was horrible, having to share that grief. Even if she had no direct relation to the person who passed, she was still very much affected.
"But what about Private Lara's family?" Rosa's voice was tinged with sorrow. "They were told she died a heroic death."
Leah's eyes dropped, unable to meet Rosa's gaze.
Rosa's realization extinguished like a flame. "Oh..."
Leah's attempt at comfort was gentle. "For what it's worth, things were resolved before they escalated. And you can credit Mr. Six for that. If it weren't for his suggestion of having a few squads of magic users stationed on our highest towers to charge up offensive spells, they would've not been able to minimize the loss. His tools and the knowledge he shared our militia had been nothing short of priceless. You can even ask the Captain yourself."
Rosa's attention shifted to the Courier, gratitude radiating from her. Leah elaborated on his contributions, and Rosa's emotions overcame her.
"Thank you, Mr. Six!" Rosa's voice quivered as she offered a deep bow.
...remember when he said he could still feel embarrassed? Well, he was not lying.
"...you're welcome," The Courier replied, "but know that I didn't do everything alone. The other soldiers and healers, they proved themselves when it mattered."
Rosa let out a few sniffles, using her fingers to dry the corner of her eyes. "Yes, of course!"
"Okay, so things turned out to be way more complicated than we thought at first," The Elder's voice carried a weight that Rosa easily caught onto. "We were thinking maybe someone or a group messed with the poor Private before she died."
"A conspiracy?" Rosa raised an eyebrow. "But seriously, who'd do that? And why go after a regular Private instead of someone higher up?"
"Those are the questions bugging us," Leah sighed, a hint of tiredness in her voice. "But from what we've dug up, it sort of happened by chance. Private Lara had a tough life, and that pushed her into some shady business."
"What kind of business?"
"We've got pretty solid proof that Private Lara might have been involved in dealing Kindred paraphernalia." The bombshell revelation gave Rosa a jolt, sending a shiver down her spine. "If that's true, it might explain what went down before she died."
Rosa winced, realizing why they weren't sharing the real reason for Private Lara's death. It would crush her family to know.
"So, uh..." Rosa started, choosing her words carefully. "What's the plan now?"
Despite the seriousness, Leah's face softened into a reassuring grin. "This is where Mr. Six comes in. He's going to lead the investigation."
Rosa scratched her head, looking at Mr. Six with confusion. "And where do I fit in?"
"You're gonna help him out, of course!"
Rosa blinked, her surprise evident.
"You want me to do what?!"
Courier Six found Rosa's reaction totally understandable. He leaned casually against the wall, arms folded, the red lenses of his mask seemingly glinting in amusement.
"Yup, you got it right. You'll be Mr. Six's sidekick in this whole investigation thing," Leah's demeanor took on a childlike excitement, her innocent look making the request seem almost playful. "Since Mr. Six is kinda new here, he could use a local expert like you."
"Okay, hold up," Rosa said, starting to get it. "Wouldn't it be better to have, I don't know, someone from the militia to help him?"
"I think the opposite is true." Leah offered instead. "Someone like you would provide a fresh perspective, at least something that hasn't been thought of or circulated by anyone from the militia. Ah, but don't hesitate to ask around, just make sure that you keep things hush-hush, okay? We don't want people to worry."
"I… understand." Rosa eventually said, the invisible weight of realization eventually settled upon her.
"Alright, Mr. Six, it's time to put the pieces together and take charge." Leah's gaze locked onto the Courier, determination resonating in her words. "I know we're asking for a lot, but the sooner we unravel this, the better. Conspiracies tied to the Demon Lord's ilk have a way of spiraling into chaos. Heaven knows what havoc awaits if we don't act swiftly."
"Understood," the Courier replied, his monotone and distorted voice somehow exuding confidence.
Leah's demeanor shifted, her expression turning earnest. "And here's a personal request from me. Look after our little rose, would you? The world's become treacherous, and even our defenses might not suffice, especially with the shadow of demonic meddling."
"Leah…" Rosa's cheeks reddened once more, caught in the spotlight and clearly flustered.
Leah's smile widened, mischief dancing in her eyes. "Oh, come on. Indulge me in wanting to protect my only little rose."
Rosa let out an almost exasperated sigh, her face a brilliant shade of crimson. She couldn't endure Leah's teasing any longer. "Mr. Six, shall we go?"
Leah leaned on her desk, her grin unwavering as she watched Rosa storm out, a crimson whirlwind of embarrassment.
"...Was teasing her that much really necessary?" the Courier couldn't help but inquire.
"Believe me, Mr. Six, it was more than necessary."
With little choice, the Courier took her word as law.
Phew.
It's been a while, but I finally got to post an update for this story. This one's a bit shorter than what I'd initially planned, but I figured it'd be better to start the next Arc on the next chapter proper.
Anyway, I hope ya'll enjoyed this chapter.
If you like what I do and want to support me, I hav tr eon now. You don't have to subscribe to it, as of now the only tier I have on it is purely one of unconditional support. But I will be posting the newest chapter of this story, and my other story, over there first.
Just know that tiers are subjected to change in the future once I expand and grow.
And, again, you don't have to support me if you don't want to!
P a tr eon. com (slash) CaiusRegulusRexus (without the spaces)