Past in Peril
By Mardrena
Previously on Ronin Warriors: Spacequake…
"I am older than thought, older than word…"
A freak discovery only led to a far deeper mystery with the arrival of a mysterious being calling herself Greytorata. In a completely different class of her own and owing no allegiance to Roth and the other Thangien Gods, she warned of an impending danger only we could avert. Before we had any chance to object, she used incredible powers to cast six of us back in time, tasking us with protecting key events.
Kento and I got dropped off in Scotland where we ran into Mardrena Lockehart, who would become the first Lady Ronin in history. Rowen and Sage wound up in England at the height of World War II where they have to join Aleksander Vanstandtvoort and Gage Wendell-Danae and Dais' fathers-in their Flight into Fate. Cye and Tanya ended up over a thousand years in the past before any of our Armors existed, and have the unfortunate mission of protecting evil, rather than destroying it…
"HE HIT HER! THAT BASTARD! I'LL KILL HIM!"
These shadowy beings-whoever they serve-are hell-bent on twisting history to suit their desires. As tempting as it may be to change things "for the better" or "make things right", history is history, and all things happen for a reason...
She's...she's fading out of existence! Oh no...what...what have I done!?
"No! Why is this happening to her! I never meant-I just wanted-" Cye sputtered as he knelt beside an increasingly incorporeal Tanya slumped on the floor. "Did just wishing for the Armors to not exist cause this?" Are the Armors that entrenched in our lives that we wouldn't exist without them? Cye tried to gather her up in his arms only for her to slip out of his grasp. "No! Tanya, stay with me! You do exist! Your name is Tanya Sanada! Your brother is...your brother…" Cye shook his head, his memory starting to slip. He even had trouble remembering recent events. "Please stay! Please stay! Don't go...please, don't go…" he sobbed and slumped forward against the floor, clenching his fists. How could I be so selfish...worrying about my own life only jeopardizes those close to me...Please, she doesn't deserve this! Not because of me! He couldn't even remember her name at this point.
"Okay, okay! You can stop the waterworks now…" Cye sat bolt upright on the floor when he heard the casual voice and saw Tanya seemingly fully restored and conscious. She pushed herself up slowly to recline on the floor but nearly fell back over when Cye tackled her in a grateful hug.
"I'm so glad you're safe and sound!" Cye cried into her shoulder. Tanya merely sat there blinking awkwardly before Cye realized how close he held her and pulled away abruptly.
"Um, please don't tell Kento about any of that. He'd probably, well...go 'rawr' and all…"
"Naw, you're his best friend. He wouldn't hurt you….Ryo, on the other hand…" Tanya trailed off and averted her gaze, giggling. Cye chuckled weakly before frowning solemnly. "Cye...you realize what has to be done now, right?" Tanya asked softly.
"Yeah...I'm not going to like it...but we really have no choice this time…" Cye responded, frowning sadly. "Greytorata said ours would be the most difficult objective, but the most critical…" Is that why she stuck us here? To test my will? Cye scowled bitterly before relaxing when he remembered Sehkmet's admission about what happened after the Totalitary were defeated the first time. If Talpa hadn't squandered so much of his forces trying to one-up them, he could've easily attacked the Mortal Realm again after Hariel's death...In some twisted way...Talpa did end up serving some good...
Cye sucked in air through his teeth and exhaled heavily before glancing at Tanya. "You stay in the village and see if you can mingle with some of the folks here and pick up on some information. I'll head back up the hill and see if I can scope out things at night. Try not to be seen or heard…" Cye rose to his feet and stooped down to retrieve his hat from where he'd dropped it. He spent a moment straightening it atop his head and tilting it down to hide his brown hair and prepared to leave before turning and looking back down at Tanya. "And please, don't kick anyone in the balls…" Tanya pouted and folded her arms over her chest but kept quiet.
The sun had already set outside and only faint scraps of light clung to the horizon. Cye shut the door behind him and discreetly made his way down the road towards the temple. The guards at the gate allowed him to pass without question and Cye made a point to bow and mouth empty prayers at nearby shrines before proceeding on his way. The grounds looked mostly empty and Cye crossed the courtyard without drawing unwanted attention. He cautiously opened the doors and entered before closing them behind him. He spotted a lone figure kneeling on the floor before the displayed Armor.
Guess someone has to keep watch... "Greetings brother, could you tell me where-" Cye asked politely. The seated individual turned its head to the side slowly at an unnatural angle, revealing the monster Cye couldn't see from behind. It grinned its lip-less grin and slowly rose to its feet, twisting around to face him before pulling a ritual knife from under its robes. It splayed the claws on its free hand and let out a gurgling hiss, fixing Cye with burning red eyes. "…Bloody hell…" Cye scowled.
Wooden wheels creaked noisily as the wagon trundled up the worn path at night. A pair of oxen grunted idly as they plodded along and the bedraggled driver toyed with a pipe between his lips. The waning moon hung low and thin fog clung to the brush along the path. The oxen reared back and pawed at the ground when something dropped down infront of them from a tree overhead. "Whoa there!" the driver ordered and reigned the oxen under control. "Hullo there lad, ye need help?" the driver asked as a rather tall man with white hair and eyes and gray-lavender skin approached.
"Yeah. It's just the funniest thing, me being such a light sleeper and all in this form. I'd just barely started to drift away to snooze then what do I hear but some rickety-ass wagon coming up the road a mile away. Now why the heck would a fully-loaded wagon be doing all the way out here in the middle of the night if you weren't up to no good," the stony-skinned man demanded.
"I'm jus' a simple trader headed to town, s'all."
"The nearest town is back the other way, genius! Can the act! I know you're lying, you know how I can tell? One: you're not freaking out at the sight of me like any normal person would, and two: I can see right through your stupid disguise! You're a shadow, your cows are shadows, and there's about three or four shadows hiding in the back there!" Kento pointed at the driver first, then the oxen, then the covered cart. The driver merely worked his pipe from side to side in his mouth.
"Well then...if you insist…" The clothes shredded away from its body as the shadow shed its facade and sprang out of the seat. "Die, Ronin Warrior!" The other shadows sprang into action and moved to surround Kento, who tensed and splayed his own claws.
"Come at me!" Kento taunted, his eyes flaring bright white. The first shadow sprang towards Kento, who rather than taking it head on, ducked down and caught it from below and flipped it a considerable distance behind him. Another shadow slashed but Kento caught its wrist with one hand and delivered a gruesome upwards chop to its elbow, tearing the arm in half. That alone proved enough to send the shadow collapsing into a pile of goo. "C'mon guys! I've fought Nobles tougher than this!" Kento grinned, delighting in the thrill of messy combat. He had an entire day's worth of frustration he could vent freely on squishy shadows rather than Murdina's husband. They apparently expected him to simply tank their blows and failed to remember he still retained his full range of martial arts training, ducking under one pouncing shadow and spearing it through the midsection with a thrust of his claws then catching another off-guard with a roundhouse heel to the face.
The first shadow Kento had tossed came charging at him from behind. He spotted it coming out the corner of his eye but still had two more shadows to contend with at the front. Kento raised his arm to block the incoming slash. He let out a gurgling shriek when the black claws tore straight through his hardened flesh. The three remaining shadows surrounded Kento as he reeled from his injury. He tried to muster enough breath for a megaroar, but only a pained whimper emerged from his throat.
"This is the last obstruction to the plan! We have been delayed far too long!" a shadow declared and raised its claws to execute the wounded Ronin Warrior.
"HEEEEYAAAAAHHH!" The shadow jerked its head back in time to see the bottom of Ryo's boot heel smashing it in the face, pancaking its flimsy body under his weight as he plunged from a high branch like a missile. Ryo quickly whirled around and landed a kick on the side of the second shadow's neck hard enough to peel the head straight from the shoulders. Using the same momentum, he swept the legs out from under the last shadow then stormed over and stomped its face flat before it could recover. The oily residue bubbled and steamed as the remains gradually evaporated.
"Hey bud, you okay?" Ryo asked and walked over to where Kento hunched over his injury. "Here, lemme check it out-" Ryo reached out for his wrist but Kento pulled away and growled deeply, eyes flaring briefly. "Hey! What gives! Kento, you know better than that! I'm just trying to help, so quit acting like a cowardly lion!" Ryo protested. Kento glanced at him and whined piteously, his eyes dimming. Ryo leaned sideways, placing his knuckles on his hips. "You gonna behave? Can I come over there now?" he scolded. Kento blinked tears from his eyes and moaned softly. Ryo snorted and walked over, grabbing his wrist.
"I don't see why you're fussing so much. It can't possibly be that ba-" Ryo pulled Kento's hand away, revealing three ruinous gashes each nearly an inch deep in the muscle. "-d-HOLY SHIT!" Ryo promptly pushed Kento's palm back down over the wound and he hastily averted his gaze, glancing back at it out the corner of his eye. Blood didn't bother him as much as it did his sister, but the cuts still looked quite gruesome. He hadn't seen any arterial spurt, but the wound oozed profusely.
"T-T-Told ya," Kento whimpered, shuddering slightly. Ryo pressed the back of his wrist against his mouth and glanced from side to side, checking for anything he could use as a tourniquet.
"Ugh...Mom's gonna kill me for this…" Ryo quickly shucked the embroidered surcoat and sash of his outfit before peeling off the gray undershirt. He tied one sleeve around Kento's wrist then lifted his hand then wrapped the shirt tightly over the wound. "You should've hardened yourself…"
"I DID!" Kento growled deeply, his eyes flaring briefly before dimming quickly. "They cut straight through me like it was nothing…shit feels cold, man…" Kento croaked, shuddering again.
"You're in shock, that's all. C'mon, let's head back to the farm and get you patched up." Ryo tried to drape Kento's arm over his shoulder and offer support, but Kento hadn't taken more than a step before he sank to one knee and nearly collapsed to his side. "Or not…" Ryo winced awkwardly.
"I'd rather have a Pegasi between my legs than whatever this is," Sage grumbled from where he sat on the wing of a parked aircraft reading a dusty manual. "What the heck are these things?"
"Curtiss P-40 Warhawk: Pretty solid craft, but not very good at high altitudes. Guessing the Silver Saviors got stuck with castoffs while front lines got the newer toys." Rowen commented from the cockpit of his designated craft as he tinkered with something in the controls.
"It's weird...I thought I'd have trouble understanding all of this...but somehow I feel like its almost second nature." Sage glanced about the spacious hangar housing other craft being repaired or serviced.
"I think that's Greytorata's doing. Since we can't rely on our Armors, we have to adapt to our surroundings. She's probably giving us a bit of an edge since we're in a more modern period compared to the others," Rowen theorized as he hopped down from the cockpit of his plane then scrambled up into Sage's craft without even asking. Sage glanced at him and raised an eyebrow.
"Didn't Strata manifest around this time? You try calling it?"
"I think The Ancient would notice if it took off on its own all of a sudden. The Continentals are still under wraps too. Here, put this on, I'm gonna test something," Rowen tossed the headset to Sage then jogged back over to his plane. Sage slipped on the earphones and waited as Rowen finished tinkering in the cockpit then jumped out and ran back to his own plane and put on a headset. "Can you hear me?"
"Yeah, I copy. So the radio works, big deal," Sage replied back over the line.
"I isolated the frequency so we'll be able to communicate without alerting the rest of the squadron. It's got a limited range, but should be enough for the mission," Rowen pulled off the headset then jumped down and walked over to Sage's craft and leaned onto the wing, spreading a crumpled map over the surface. Sage removed his headset and turned around and leaned over. "According to what we know, the Saviors' final flight took them over the Atlantic. The P-40 has barely enough range to make the trip, so more than likely we'll be taking the scenic route near the Arctic Circle to save time," Rowen explained, tracing a line on the map with his fingertip. "We'll make a pit-stop at an airbase in Iceland for rest and refuel before the final stretch, but since those files Mia dug up mentioned a 'sudden aurora', I'm guessing Gage and Aleksander will vanish long before we get that far."
"So we just need to fly along with the escort until they take their Flight into Fate. Sounds easy."
"These shadows seem able to easily adapt to their time and infiltrate any level of command..." The two paused and glanced at the hangar doors when they rolled open slightly. The light of their lanterns didn't reach as far and they squinted into the murk.
"When Aleksander suggested you inspect your craft, I assumed you'd do it in the morn with the other mechanics, not at the arse-end of dawn. Been burning some midnight oil, I take it?" Gage Wendell drawled as he approached casually. Rowen and Sage sprang down from their perch and stood at attention. "At ease," Gage muttered and saluted lazily then clasped his hands behind his back and surveyed the work area. Sage's breath caught in his throat when Gage's gaze fell upon the corner of the map dangling off of the wing. "So, been finding everything to your liking? Guys treating you well?"
"They're a lot friendlier than our last outfit, that's for sure," Rowen replied cheerfully.
"Good...that's real good that you fit in so perfectly…" Gage nodded and paced to the side slightly. Sage's eyes widened in alarm as he sensed the hostility in his voice. "Because I want you to tell me exactly who you are and what the hell you're doing here…" Both their eyes widened in shock when Gage drew his sidearm and aimed center-of-mass at Rowen.
"Cap'n! Whaddya doin'! I don't understand!" Rowen yelped as he and Sage raised their hands.
"Who are you: it's a simple question," Rowen grimaced as Gage cocked the hammer of the revolver. "I expect a simple answer. Where did you come from and who do you work for?"
"Captain, we're just the new guys. We don't know anything-" Sage jumped upon hearing the report as Gage shot between the two of them, the bullet expertly striking a can on a table behind them.
"Don't...LIE TO ME!" Gage shrieked, his face flush with anger while his stance remained fairly calm. "I KNOW you're not the real David Bahmert and Jacob Markham!" Before either of the two could protest, Gage cocked the hammer again. "I'M the one who interviewed them and signed off on their transfer! I couldn't exactly say anything infront of Aleksander at the time without causing a scene, but this late at night, I got you two right where I want you…" The two jumped again as Gage shot at the far wall of the hangar. "And sound doesn't exactly carry too well in here...Espionage is punishable by death. I could turn you over to the MP's and let them have their way with you, but why bother? I might as well save them the paperwork and deal with you myself!"
Cye glanced around: the shrine appeared to be completely empty save for the advancing shadow. Cye grabbed a nearby brazier and raised it in time to block a slash with the knife. The blade rebounded harmlessly off the metal, startling the shadow. It slashed with the claws on its free hand, slicing through the rod with ease and sending pieces of metal clattering onto the floor. Cye gripped the remaining halves tightly and tensed, glancing over his shoulder briefly. How far did sound carry in here? The shadow chuckled sinisterly, knowing Cye couldn't engage in a knock-down drag-out brawl without attracting attention. Panels slid open further inside the room and two more shadows emerged from side chambers. "Ssssss..." Cye heard them hiss in glee.
The foremost shadow lunged and Cye somersaulted overhead, landing neatly before backflipping again and avoiding the other two. He found himself between the advancing shadows and the Guardian Armor. Cye glanced over his shoulder at the displayed Armor before shaking his head and returning his gaze forward, wondering why he felt drawn to it. It's glittering sheen seemed to tug at his gaze from the corner of his eye. Something nagged at him at the back of his mind, urging him to tap into its power.
"Why do you fight us, Ronin Warrior? Why protect the source of so much suffering in history? Think of how much destruction could be avoided..." the lead shadow purred. Cye wrinkled his brow, disgusted to hear his own reasoning used against him. He had to admit: being this close to the Armor, he could sense something that made his skin crawl and hair stand on end.
What did they DO to this Armor?!
"If you will not step aside, then you will fall where you stand!" the shadows closed in on the un-armored Ronin Warrior, claws splayed and ready to rend Cye's defenseless flesh.
The two flanking shadows pitched forward and gurgled when something pierced their throats entirely, and two small blades whizzed dangerously close to either side of Cye. The lead shadow whirled around in a panic and Cye lunged forward and impaled it with the halves of the broken brazier, bearing it to the floor. "Those who don't learn from the past are doomed to repeat it," Cye leaned down and growled at the shadow before it exploded into oily paste that dribbled into the floorboards.
Cye stood back up and looked towards the rafters when he spotted a lithe figure perched above him. The newcomer dropped down and reached up towards its face, pulling away the black covering. "You said 'not seen or heard'. What better way than one of the shinobi, eh?" Tanya teased.
"Taking up the old Sanada pastime, I see?" Cye replied and placed a knuckle on his hip. Tanya walked past him and leaned down to retrieve her makeshift shuriken. She didn't seem to be affected by the alluring tug of the Guardian Armor, ignoring it entirely before turning back around.
"Eh, I'll admit we learned a few things from the crazy relatives before Dad took us off-grid to avoid them. Ryo ever tell you they tried to bribe us to leave our family and join them in their little commune? He used to think they were the ones who set the fire when we were little, as payback against Dad for cutting them out of the picture," Tanya commented as she walked back over to Cye. She'd apparently raided a clothier for whatever scraps of dark fabric she could find to create her cobbled garb. "It's a good thing you distracted them long enough to buy time for me to get the drop on them." Cye tensed when he caught the subtle jab in her voice. He would never betray the mission again after what had happened earlier, but at the same time he had to admit the shadows' logic seemed tempting.
"I'll stay and clean up here before anyone shows up asking questions," Cye leaned down and picked up the broken halves of the brazier. When he stood back up, Tanya had vanished.
"And I'll be watching over you from above," her voice echoed from the darkness. Cye smirked and walked towards the entrance to pick up the pieces lopped off earlier. He retrieved his hat from where it'd fallen and spared a glance back at the gilded Armor. The urge had subsided now that danger had passed, but it bothered him that he'd been so open to relying on power rather than skill.
Ryo had cannibalized the stolen wagon for firewood and set up a decent campfire near Kento, but he had to start the fire the old fashioned way with flint and tinder since Greytorata suppressed his elemental domain. Apparently the shadows had raided a real trader since he'd found a number of useful implements like a kettle, bolts of fabric, and various other odds and ends like needle and thread. None of the fabric seemed suitable for bandages, so Ryo set up a makeshift tripod over the campfire and filled the kettle and waited for it to boil. Kento remained sitting where he'd collapsed. His spasms had subsided at least but his breathing sounded ragged.
"Can't you change back and heal yourself by transforming again?" Ryo asked cautiously.
"That takes a lot of energy out of me...and incase you haven't noticed...we don't exactly have access to an all-u-can-eat out here," Kento wheezed and flicked a glance at Ryo. "I can't exactly change at will unless there's a fight. That part's been pretty hit-and-miss... Besides, as long as Mard thinks I'm some sort of 'mythical mountain giant', I should at least try to keep up appearances," he admitted and shifted in his seat. Ryo frowned, realizing the extent of their limitations.
"It's been a long time since we've had to 'rough it' like this. No handy Richtho leaves this time..."
"Or a handy Sage," Kento grumbled. Ryo let out a halfhearted chuckle then checked the water in the pot. It'd come to a rolling boil and he took his surcoat and bunched it up, holding it by the corners before dipping it inside and soaking it in the scalding water. He pulled it out and walked over to Kento. "Wait," Kento raised a hand. "...let me do it," he suggested and pulled off the blood-soaked gray shirt, letting it fall to the ground before taking the steaming surcoat from Ryo. He took in a deep breath in dread and Ryo backed up a step. Kento took a few more rapid breaths before pulling the scalding cloth over the cuts. Birds all around took flight, rattled out of their perches by his roar.
"Does it look any better?" Ryo winced and stooped down to retrieve the gray shirt and returned to the campfire to wash it in the pot. Kento pulled up one side of the surcoat.
"Well...it's dripping, not gushing, so I guess that's a good sign?" Ryo smirked and shook his head as he set to measuring lengths of coarse thread. He began prepping a needle, holding it over the flickering flames briefly. He hissed and swore, withdrawing his hand and shaking it when an errant tongue of flame lashed out at his hand. Greytorata had robbed him of his own innate affinity as well. He walked over to Kento and knelt down beside him, threading the first length.
"Are you sure you're cool with me doing this? I don't want you smacking me halfway across the continent if I hit a nerve," Ryo asked and cocked his head.
"I'll be fine. If I start fussing, just slap me upside the head. It works for Tanya," Kento assured. Ryo made a face upon hearing that before shaking his head and sighing as he tweaked back the surcoat over the first cut and placed the needle tip at one end. He pushed gently but the needle wobbled slightly.
"Kento..." Ryo chided and scowled.
"Sorry! It's a reflex!" Kento argued and took a few more deep breaths to relax. Ryo tried again and the needle slipped through easily this time. Man...I wish Tanya was here... Ryo flicked a glance at him upon hearing the errant broadcast as he continued stitching the wound.
...so do I... Ryo offered mentally. Kento glanced at him, startled, before averting his gaze sheepishly. One cut down, two more to go: so far, so good... Ryo returned to the fire to sanitize the needle again then came back to start the second cut. Apparently he literally hit a nerve and the second he pushed the needle in, Kento let out a rattling growl. Ryo quickly lashed out with his free hand, backhanding Kento across the cheek. Kento feel silent and blinked several times as Ryo resumed stitching. He paused when he noticed Kento's distant stare. "...You okay?"
"...yes...yes...I'm fine..." Kento replied in a tiny voice.
"Captain, please, don't do this! You don't understand: the men you thought you interviewed were enemy agents. We intercepted them on their way to this base." Rowen pleaded. Gage flexed his finger over the trigger. "We're not the Enemy! You have to believe us!" While Rowen struggled to reason with the paranoid captain, Sage caught sight of something moving high along the beams in the hangar. The shadow hunkered down and grinned upon observing the two Ronin's predicament. It seemed perfectly content to let things play out and let Gage dispose of them. "You've given the Enemy a black eye for the last time, and they've pulled out all the stops to make sure you and Aleksander don't complete your next flight. We were sent to protect the two of you! We're telling the truth!" Gage scowled, unimpressed with Rowen's pleadings. He glanced to the side and noticed Sage's averted gaze.
"Hey, eyes on me, you!" he ordered. The shadow watching from the ceiling smirked toothily.
"Enough of this..." Sage snarled as Gage moved the barrel of the pistol away from Rowen. Before Gage could take aim, Sage lunged forward, lashing up with one hand and effortlessly swatting the revolver out of his hand. Gage cried out and recoiled as Sage deftly caught hold of the pistol and turned it around in his hand, taking aim in Gage's direction. He heard the piercing report against his eardrums and acrid smoke assailed his nostrils. Gage tensed, dreading the hot stinging pain. He opened his eyes and looked to the side to see Sage aiming past him, his eyes fixed on something towards the ceiling. He held his arm above Gage's shoulder at a high angle.
Sage had never handled a firearm before in his life, but Greytorata had gifted him with deadly accuracy. Gage could only stand there stock still in shock. He dared a glance over his shoulder when something landed on the floor behind him with a wed thud and watched in surprise as Sage flung the revolver to the floor and dashed forward, crouching over the fallen mass.
"Who do you work for?! Who is your master? Who do you serve!?" Sage demanded as he grabbed "folds" of the shadow in his fists and lifted its chest off the floor, shaking it roughly. "Huh? Tell me!" Gage turned around slowly and Rowen walked up alongside him as the two observed Sage's attempt at interrogation. The shadow tilted its head up jerkily and opened its mouth but only managed a strangled hiss before its body exploded like a burst balloon, splattering black goo all over the floor and Sage's legs. "DAMN!" Sage clenched his fingers and lashed his arms downward in frustration.
"...what...what the bloody hell was that?" Gage stammered, bewildered.
"One of the Enemy agents we tried to tell you about. They've been chemically altered to allow them to assume any identity they choose. More than likely they killed the real David Bahmert and Jacob Markham long before you interviewed them," Rowen explained and walked forward just as Sage pushed himself to his feet. Gage watched as Rowen pulled out a pocketknife and stooped down, scraping some of the black residue off of the floor before leaning up to study it. "I don't suppose there's a microscope anywhere on this base?" Rowen cocked his head and tilted the blade back and forth, observing how the goo evaporated quickly, leaving behind a barely-visible metallic sheen.
"You'd be lucky to find a magnifying glass in the infirmary," Gage admitted and rubbed the back of his head, still trying to process what he'd just seen. "Who are you two anyway? Intelligence?"
"You wouldn't believe us even if we told you. Just trust we're here to help," Sage assured.
"And here I thought Harwin was blowing smoke out his arse all this time with all his doomsaying...Well...I suppose its all well and good that I'm not a betting man or he'd take me to the cleaners..." Sage leaned down and retrieved the discarded revolver, turning it around before handing it graciously to Gage, who accepted it and promptly emptied it of spent casings before holstering it. "You two seem quite capable enough...you've got a handle on the situation, so I'll leave you to it," Gage gave each of them an apologetic pat on the shoulder as he walked past them. "Oh, one more thing," he began and paused halfway to the hangar doors. "Don't forget to name your craft."
"I thought only bombers did that," Rowen commented.
"You're with the Silver Saviors now. We're a cut above the rest," Gage smirked and nodded towards the doors. "You must've seen our planes on your way here: Silver Archangel and Silver Seraph. You can pick any name and theme you wish, but it has to start with 'silver'. Make sure you get some sleep before sunrise. We're on standby to sortie any day now. Don't stay up too late," and with that, Gage Wendell exited the hangar, leaving the two in peace.
"...he seems pretty chill given everything that just happened. I wonder how he ended up being so cool while Dais turned out to be such jerk in the Dynasty Wars," Rowen remarked.
"There's no excuse for bad behavior," Sage quipped and smirked.
Cye joined the rest of the monks the next morning as they awaited the arrival of a caravan escorted by an entire column of proto-Nether Soldiers. Most of the caravan consisted of gaunt priests with simple blue robes, necklaces of polished beads, and tall curved caps. Cye had been on the receiving end of spiritual torment enough in the Dynasty Wars to recognize a Nether Priest when he saw one, though these newcomers appeared fully human. A gangly figure swaddled in voluminous embroidered robes emerged from an ornate palanquin and after spending a moment or two fumbling with the sleeves, righted himself and tottered out onto the temple grounds to greet the tall monk. The man looked human with a thin pinched face, prominent bags under the eyes, and long, thin wiry moustache and goatee
"Badamon! My friend! How good of you to join us! How was your trip from the mainland?"
"Arago! I take it your great project has nearly reached completion?" the two exchanged bows then clasped wrists heartily. They looked so cheerful and warm as they discussed political affairs.
I can't believe it...I'm witnessing the birth of the Dynasty... Cye frowned sadly. The tall monk-Arago- seemed such a friendly man. How can someone like that become so consumed with evil?
"As you can see, I have taken the liberty of bringing my entire clan to assist with the final incantations. If I may...?" A shudder ran down Cye's back upon hearing the voice. The monks filed inside the temple followed by the priests. Cye moved his lips but did not participate in the chanting. The low intonations uttered by the priests seemed discordant with the solemn chanting of the monks.
How can they be so spiritually bankrupt that they can't feel the wrongness of all of this?! Despite his lack of participation, he could sense very real power weaving though the air. The Guardian Armor seemed to glow with a greater brilliance than ever before. The session lasted several hours before finally concluding with the first "stage". The monks and priests retired to their dwellings but Cye remained behind, scrutinizing each departing individual to check for potential shadow agents. Finally only he, the other shorter monk, and Arago remained in the shrine. The second monk exchanged words with Arago before taking his leave and walking past Cye. He hadn't heard anything said between them, only that the other monk seemed apprehensive while Arago exuded confidence. As much as Cye wanted to take the monk aside to warn him, he had to clench his jaw and remain silent as the monk left. Only Arago remained in the inner recesses. Cye approached timidly and observed how he seemed to gaze fondly upon the Armor.
The man put a hand on the shoulder plate, his face glowing with the pride of a parent with a child. Did the man corrupt the Armor, or the Armor corrupt the man? He seemed to notice Cye's proximity but kept his gaze forward. "My brother thinks me paranoid. He scoffs at the notion of anything disrupting our tranquil land. He must listen to reason: peace is fleeting. Absolute enlightenment exposes absolute savagery. There will come a day where outsiders will come to this land and seek to upend all we have built: not to address any slight, but simply because we exist. Tomorrow the final blessings will be cast, and the Guardian Armor will be ready..."
"To be bestowed upon a suitable champion, of course..." Cye commented. He scowled under his hat when he noticed a slight tic in the man's cheek.
"Yes...of course..." Cye caught the tightness in his voice, a reluctant, covetous sort. Cye bowed and turned to leave, but a glance over his shoulder confirmed that he had yet to budge. Cye returned to the village and the dwelling he and Tanya shared.
"I didn't get the chance to meet Badamon back in the day. Ryo fried him years before I joined the team. So that's Bautan's mentor, eh? Somehow I doubt "Future Lord of the Nether Spirits" was written under his yearbook photo..." Tanya joked as she busied herself assembling a crude grappling rope and used a whetstone she'd procured to add a more refined edge to her shuriken. Cye knelt on the floor and stared off into space, oblivious to her remarks. "So, who do you think sent these things?" Cye raised an eyebrow and glanced at her. "Couldn't be the Dynasty; why sabotage themselves?"
"If I had to bet money...I'd say Kai," Cye muttered and scowled.
"Kai? I thought Rowen's dumbass cousin had him under lock and key?"
"Yes, but Kai's spent centuries seeking out sources of magic to hoard for himself: its practically his mission statement. He believes he should be the only one with access to power. Our very existence is an insult to him. Even the Thangiens are a threat because he can't understand or control them."
"I don't really care too much about Roth or any of those gods, but I have to admit I wouldn't object if she decided to go to town on Kai's smug, smirky, stupid ass," Tanya commented. Cye grunted softly, echoing the sentiment. He still remembered the savage beating Kai had dealt him.
People seek out and cling to power in order to feel safe...but really the only way to truly be safe...is to eliminate all potential threats...
Ryo grunted and wrinkled his brow as he woke from his nap. He'd dozed off at some point and sunlight peeked in through gaps in the stable wall. Everything seemed peaceful and quiet outside. Kento had remained awake most of the early morning but hadn't detected anymore attempted attacks. Ryo rubbed the back of his neck: he'd gone to sleep sitting upright against a post. "Man, what I wouldn't give for a proper bed right about now. Or even a sleeping bag..."
"I dunno what you're complaining about," Kento commented as he rolled his shoulders and stretched his arms mightily. "I feel just fine," he grinned and patted his shoulder. Ryo glanced down slightly and smirked when he spotted something on the stable floor.
"Yeah...I can definitely see that, considering you slept on a boar..." he chuckled.
"Ryo, I'd think I'd feel it if I slept against a board..." Kento frowned.
"I didn't say 'board', I said 'boar' as in-" Ryo pointed in Kento's direction. The transformed human looked behind himself to find his lower back braced against a rather large pot-bellied pig with immense rolls of flesh nearly smothering its eyes. The nose twitched and it grunted, seemingly appreciatively.
"Eww! Get away! Kento reached back and smacked the boar on the rump hard enough to send it tumbling further into the stable where it squealed in protest, spinning on the floor before eventually righting itself and trotting away in a panic. Ryo's body shook as he laughed richly.
"...need you gallivanting about in the woods with a blunted sword acting like some half-arsed heroine!" The two fell quiet as they heard a raised voice coming from the direction of the cottage. "...wasting good food and hospitality on complete strangers...!" Murdina's husband yelled loud enough for Ryo to hear him this time and Ryo grimaced uneasily upon hearing the exchange.
"Can I break his legs? Just one?" Kento asked abruptly and raised a finger. Ryo threw him a glare. "What about his wrists? He doesn't need them, does he?" Ryo closed his eyes and shook his head. The man had yet to see Kento and Ryo wanted to keep it that way. The two glanced to the doors as Murdina entered carrying a laden basket. She glanced at the two and sighed deeply.
"I take it ye two had yuirselves a bit o' fun last night?" she drawled when she saw the dressing on Kento's arm and Ryo's lack of a surcoat. She set the basket down between Ryo and Kento.
"You heard that?" Kento winced apologetically.
"How could I not, wit ye wailin' like a barghest..." Murdina grumbled as she sat down beside the basket and began withdrawing items like a sealed jug and a spool of gut. As she moved, the sleeve of her blouse tugged up and Kento caught sight of a fresh bruise on her wrist. He scowled and let slip a soft growl. "What?!" Murdina glanced up at him sharply, her eyes flashing with anger. Kento stared back at her, stunned. He hunched his shoulders and averted his gaze, frowning.
"Nothing...it's nothing," he mumbled. Murdina's expression softened in realization and she reached down and pulled the cuff back up over the bruise. Kento remained so deep in his brooding he blinked in surprise when Murdina grabbed his wrist and set his arm across her lap.
"Ach, ye poor lad, what'd ye do on my account? I s'pose I be even deeper in yuir debt..." she unwrapped the dressing and flung the bloodied surcoat behind her, nearly smacking Ryo in the face with it. She clucked under her breath as she examined the wound. "Whoever did this made a right mess of things. I've seen boot laces neater n' this..." Murdina fished out a small knife and set to cutting and plucking out the stitches in Kento's arm. She reached for the jug and pulled the cork out with her teeth. Kento caught whiff of VERY strong alcohol but had no chance to protest as Murdina doused his arm with the stuff. The wound stung briefly and Kento flinched and clenched his jaw to bite down a growl of pain. Murdina leaned over to fetch the spool of gut and something else and as she did so Kento caught a glimpse of Ryo and the sour expression on his face. Kento giggled impishly.
"Alright, this should work better!" Ryo's jaw dropped when Murdina pulled out a hook-shaped needle that looked more suitable for stitching leather than skin. Kento stared aghast and the two exchanged horrified glances while Murdina threaded a length of gut.
"Umm...Mard...I appreciate your concern, but you really don't need to worry about me so much. I can heal just fine in time..." Kento fibbed and slowly withdrew his arm. Murdina glanced at him, scowling, and promptly reached over and grabbed his wrist again, all-but yanking it over her lap. Before he could object, she'd already set to stitching the first cut, drawing the flesh tighter and neater than Ryo's efforts the night before. Kento watched bewildered as she worked deftly, finishing the first cut quickly. Ryo observed nervously as she prepared to start the second cut. If she hit that same nerve...
Kento involuntarily let out a hissing growl. Murdina set down the needle and reached over and slapped Kento on both cheeks multiple times in quick succession in a way that seemed very reminiscent of how Tanya had dealt with Kento after his grueling bout with Mal Daggur. Satisfied with his silence, Murdina set back to working on the second gash. Kento sat stock still and stared ahead into space blankly, blinking stupidly. Ryo made a face. ...you okay?
...yes...yes I'm fine... Ryo didn't think it possible for him to broadcast in a tiny voice.
Sage set down the brush after putting the finishing touches on the profile of himself as a solemn sword-wielding knight with a full head of thick golden hair matching his original hairstyle and the outline of a knight chess piece in the backdrop. He decided to dub his plane the Silver Knight, since his original sketch of a stylized Whiteblaze with exaggerated teeth called Silver Saber might draw too much suspicion. He stepped down off of the stool he'd been using and wiped his hands with a damp cloth then looked over his shoulder to see how Rowen's efforts turned out.
He did a double take when he saw the chibi-style depiction of Rowen's girlfriend, Roxi Hirochner, wearing western wear and sitting astride a gun as if riding a broomstick. A large stylized bullet with an angry face and two clenched fists erupted from the muzzle. Bold type identified the plane as Silver Bullet and smaller writing towards the bottom said "Roxi, git yer gun!" Rowen looked over his shoulder down at Sage and noticed his exasperated expression.
"What?" Rowen remarked, perplexed. Sage rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Oh c'mooooon, the likelihood of any of these craft surviving to the modern day is practically zilch," Rowen reasoned.
Roxi Hirochner sat on a sofa with a large World War II history book in her lap. Her grandfather had kept all sorts of books in his personal collection, primarily those dealing with heavy ordinance, and she considered this one her favorite because of the high-quality black-and-white photos. She hadn't pulled it out in many years. She currently stared at the picture of a vintage Curtiss P-40 from a private collection. She'd plumbed the book dozens of times-cover to cover-in her youth and seen that same page before, but just now did she notice the detailed painting on the chassis exterior below the canopy.
It looked like a caricature of a woman that bore an eerie resemblance to herself complete with voluminous hair. The woman wore vibrant western wear and sat astride a rifle sidesaddle as if riding a broomstick and had one hand raised with her fingers pinching the brim of her cowboy hat. A stylized bullet with a little angry face and clenched fists could be seen erupting from the rifle muzzle. Bold lettering identified it as Silver Bullet and smaller type towards the bottom read "Roxi, get yer gun!" The caption of the photo read "Intact P-40 Warhawk found abandoned in a field in Ireland."
Roxi blinked several times then reached over for her cellphone and thumbed in a number. She waited for a response but sighed when voicemail came on. "...Hey, Rowen? Hi, its Roxi. If you get this, call back as soon as possible. I got something I need to talk to you about..." she spoke before hanging up and setting the phone back down. Goldheart lazed about on the rug at her feet while Roxi herself remained sitting staring at the photo, utterly baffled.
Cye's unease about the Guardian Armor only grew with the next round of "blessings". The senior members lauded their efforts, but Cye could sense a hunger emanating from the gilded suit. Badamon and Arago concluded their final rites and pronounced the Armor complete and purified, either willfully ignorant or spiritually oblivious to the nascent taint.
The temple hosted a grand contest inviting warriors from far and wide to test their mettle. Cye sat in a row towards the rear while Arago, the other senior-most monk, and Badamon observed from the deck. Aspirants initially made a great show of their skills, but each and every one inevitably managed to bungle their routine. Some fumbled their weapons or inadvertently injured themselves while others displayed mediocre skill at best. Cye made a face and occasionally spared a glance at Arago. He spotted that same tic in his face as the day before.
One aspirant made a great show of swinging a morning star, but just as it seemed he'd stick the landing, his weapon slipped from his grasp with the spiked end striking the wooden steps just below Arago, barely missing the heads of priests sitting in the lower rows. The priests looked nervous and Badamon recoiled, wide-eyed. Arago stared ahead impassively, clearly not impressed. The corner of his lip twitched slightly. "Um...err, that concludes our first round of trials," the second monk who Arago had only ever referred to as "brother" stated awkwardly. The aspirants filed out of the temple grounds grumbling amongst themselves. Badamon fanned himself with one hand, sighing in relief.
"Fools!" Arago snarled and clenched folds of his robe in his fists over his knees. "Not a one of these so-called candidates has shown any promise! How can we entrust the Armor to a single warrior if all who answer our summons prove nothing but bumbling, blundering, buffoons!"
"Take heart, brother. This is just the first of many trials. Surely, we shall find one who is worthy eventually," the senior monk assured. The attendees dispersed and Cye walked towards the top of the steps leading to the village. He spared a glance over his shoulder and saw Arago still sitting at the top of the porch, apprehension simmering behind his eyes. Cye resumed walking down the steps.
"Is it just me or does that guy seem REALLY high-strung?" Cye glanced to the side as he walked and spotted a dark figure behind a tree.
"It certainly seems easy to push his buttons..."
"Cye...I don't think its a matter of pushing buttons: that guy's whole system is haywire!" Tanya commented before melting into the brush. Cye scowled: he wanted to think of Arago as an innocent man caught up in a cruel destiny beyond his control, but Tanya's remarks as well as his own observations only fed his growing uncertainty.
Ryo dunked his surcoat in the rocky stream and kept it submerged until the water ran clear before pulling it out and wringing it several times. He shook it vigorously to get rid of excess water then slipped it on over his gray shirt, trusting the morning sun would dry it readily enough. "I dinnae need a shadow, but I appreciate th' company, lads," Murdina said as she foraged nearby.
"Hey Kento? How's the arm holding up?" Ryo asked and glanced over his shoulder. Kento held his arm raised, apparently inspecting the new dressing of clean linen.
"So far so good, but this honey and herb paste she smeared all over my arm is making me hungry. I'm having to fight the urge to lick it off," Kento admitted, drawing an exasperated grimace from Ryo. Murdina knelt down next to a pile of rock slabs and fished around in crevices for wild roots while the two stood watch. "Psst...Ryo, I'm starting to think our mission isn't just to protect Mard..."
"What do you mean?" Ryo whispered in reply. Kento couldn't broadcast without alerting Murdina.
"Well...the situation with her husband...I've seen something like this before. See, a while back my sister Rin started dating this one guy, and she swore up and down the river he was cool, but he set off all sorts of alarms with Mom and Dad. Rin kept insisting everything was alright, but one day we found out he...he wasn't exactly treating her well. He just wanted to marry into the family for the connections, but no one else wanted to stage an intervention. Everyone was just too polite."
"...what ended up happening?" Ryo asked cautiously. Kento folded his arms over his chest and drummed his claws against his upper arms, closing his eyes and raising his chin.
"Well...I gave him a stern talking-to. Now he treats her much better, and he's having second thoughts about marrying into the family..." he stated matter-of-factly.
"...how long ago was this?" Ryo narrowed his eyes, wary. Kento bit his lip and averted his gaze.
"...last week?" he admitted. Ryo made a face: he could only guess what "a stern talking-to" entailed. He glanced ahead at Murdina, grasping Kento's point. She hardly seemed the type to charge off on a journey of discovery and adventure, regardless of how badly her husband treated her. Currently she had her cheek all-but pressed against the dirt as she reached under a large flat stone propped up by smaller rocks, inserting her arm all the way up to the shoulder. Ryo raised an eyebrow and cocked his head.
"Um...you okay over there?" he called.
"Mushrooms! Nice, big, fluffy jus' right for cookin'. Tis one o' my favorite spots. Jus takes awhile to find th' big'ns," Murdina grunted as she felt around, keeping her arm raised so she didn't scrape the dirt and gently pinching caps to test their width. She gasped and recoiled as the rock slab peeled up slightly. She glanced to the side, startled to see Kento leaning down holding the slab up with both hands. She stared at him, awestruck by his strength that he seemed to hold something so casually her husband would struggle with. Murdina collected her wits and returned her attention to the sheltered pocket, quickly plucking suitable caps and depositing them in her basket while leaving smaller ones to grow for another day. She backed away and stood up, dusting her skirt briefly and Kento carefully set the slab back down on its rest. "Right...thank ye lad. On we go," she chirped and continued on her way.
Kento remained by the path as Ryo walked past after Murdina. Ryo grunted and threw an annoyed glance at Kento when he elbowed him in the shoulder roughly, nodding in Murdina's direction. He didn't broadcast anything, but Ryo grasped his meaning: Murdina seemed perfectly content to spend the rest of the morning foraging for herbs and picking mushrooms. Ryo walked off after Murdina and quickened his pace to catch up with her while Kento stayed a few feet behind them both. Ryo rubbed the back of his head and bunched his shoulders awkwardly.
"Um...so...Murdina? You ever feel like you could be doing more with your life? Like, you know, a higher calling or something?" Ryo asked cautiously. Kento made a face and let his shoulders droop.
WOW! You are terrible at this! You sound like a cheesy televangelist!
Shut it, 'wee beastie'! Ryo threw a glare off to the side, eliciting a growling snort from Kento.
"I already have my callin' lad: ta serve my husband as he wishes..." Murdina replied tepidly.
"That's bullshit and you know it!" Murdina let out a startled gasp and came to a halt, whirling around when she heard Ryo snap. He had his fists clenched at his sides and glared at her, a wild fervor in his eyes. "Marriage is more than just convenience or obligation: it's a pact rooted in mutual respect, a contract written in flesh and signed in blood! If your husband goes around cherry-picking scripture just to get you to wait on him hand and foot, he's not as righteous as he makes himself out to be!" Kento remained quiet and watched, amazed as Ryo spoke out of heartfelt experience. "I'm not exactly practicing, but I must've missed the part in the Bible where a guy gets a blank check to treat his kind, generous wife like dogshit! I'm not buying what he's selling, and neither should you!
"Mard-Murdina...we don't know each other very well and we've only been here a short time, but we do know enough to see that you're a good woman and you deserve better than some jackass who gets off on treating his wife worse than farm animals! You weren't put on this Earth to live under his thumb You enjoy these walks of yours for more than just grocery shopping: you enjoy seeing the world. You have to feel it in your heart: there is a greater purpose waiting for you out there!" Ryo reasoned, his expression softening. Murdina said nothing and averted her gaze, digesting his emphatic speech.
"...I hear truth in yuir words lad...but ye dinnae understand...were I ta leave...my husband wouldn't be th' only person I'd leave behind..." Murdina shook her head sadly. The two jumped when they heard a deep rattling growl coming from Kento.
"Hey! Kento! What gives!" Ryo demanded and threw up his arms in exasperation. Kento didn't reply and seemed distracted as he glanced off to the side. "Look, is this about the 'wee beastie' comment?" Ryo shrugged, drawing a confused glance from Murdina. "If you're upset about that, I-what...?" Ryo trailed off when he noticed the alarmed look on Kento's face: teeth bared and pupils contracted.
"...they're here..." Ryo and Murdina tensed when they heard the panic in his voice. "They're all around us! SHIT! I DIDN'T EVEN HEAR THEM COMING!"
Rowen walked out onto the airstrip and tilted his head up, marveling at the large parked aircraft. He'd only seen pictures of them in history books, but never one up close much less intact. He'd read all sorts of stories how much punishment these "flying fortresses" could dish out as well as take in their heyday. Lettering below the cockpit identified it as "The Ark" and the chassis sported a painting of a stalwart Noah at the bow of a large ship full of huddled figures. The Twins busied themselves cleaning the windows with Phillip wiping the cockpit and Collin polishing the nosecone.
"Boy, she's a real beaut, ain't she? Never get tired of seein' her..." Rowen glanced to the side as Harwin sauntered over to stand next to him.
"I don't get it: why use a B-17 if you're carrying civilians? Why not use a transport?"
"Ya kiddin'? Transport'd be the first thing they go after!" Harwin replied and raised both stringy eyebrows. Rowen stared back, puzzled. "Cloud-break Cavaliers used ta run these missions 'fore we stepped in, but last run transport ended up wit' more holes 'n a colander! Almost lost the 'precious cargo'! Bomber heads the other way, spies think nuttin' of it. It'd either be serviced or transferred. It's an intellectual game o' cat n' mouse, ya see?"
"Wouldn't it be pretty cramped if you're carrying civilians?" Rowen asked as he studied the exterior, taking note of the enclosed waist and thicker plating. Harwin reached down and thumped the ball guns.
"Balsa wood dummies. Only operational guns're tail, nose n' top turret. Ark has ta pack light ta fit a dozen geezers in like sardines. No payload either. Nazis dun appreciate the brain drain goin' on, so they been steppin' up intercept ops. If ya asked me, they wised up ta our lil' operation..."
This guy's accent is thick! It's giving me a headache! It's worse than Cye's!
"Cap'n Aleksander won't tell us rank n' file, but word I been hearin' is there's a bounty out fer us! Fuhrer's sent the Black Maw after us..."
"'Black Maw'?" Rowen raised an eyebrow.
"Right nasty piece o' work I hear. Makes th' Red Baron sound like a guy you'd wanna swap drinks wit' at th' pub. Word 'bout him only got 'round few months ago. Way I hear it, his MO is goin' after pilots bailin' out. Fill'em up full o' holes 'fore they hit the ground. Only way we know 'bout him now is cuz one bloke survived by th' skin o' his teeth. Ain't no man...he's a demon!" Harwin remarked ominously. Rowen frowned, wondering if the shadows might have leaked information.
"Oy! Avens! Mornin to ya!" Harwin called and waved at the older pilot leaning against the hangar wall, earning an irritated grunt in reply.
"What's his story? He seems...kind of out of place with the others," Rowen commented.
"Victor? He's an antique! Veteran o' th' last Great War! Poor bloke should be kickin' it up at th' old folks home throwin' darts, but he's determined ta 'do his part'. Bloody damn good pilot, don't let his age fool ya," Harwin waved a hand and took off walking alongside the belly of the B-17. Rowen followed along slightly behind as they walked under the wing and approached the nose.
"As long as weapons of war remain in the hands of men, senseless destruction shall be our only legacy," Victor growled bitterly, loud enough for Rowen to hear despite the distance between them. Rowen stopped in his tracks next to the ladder Phillip stood on as he cleaned the cockpit windows.
...Victor...Avens... Rowen remembered the first batch of files Mia had dug up during the search for Dais, how both Aleksander and Gage were listed as MIA as well as a man named Victor Avens. ...Avens...Victor...A-vi-tor... A haunting memory surfaced of the misshapen entity Rowen, Ryo, and Anubis encountered in that bizarre pocket realm. The hulking alien creature pledged to eradicate 'instruments of war' from the reach of men. Only a grueling fever-pitched duel between the "ascended being" and the former Dark Warlord of Cruelty put an end to his mad ambition. Anubis would later recount how the creature claimed to have known Aleksander and Gage personally.
Rowen turned to look at the older pilot, whose face remained fixed in a bitter sneer. Victor wore his flight jacket with its fur ruff and his aviation cap with the goggles resting atop his head. ...Aleksander and Gage weren't the only ones to embark on a "Flight into Fate"...
Phillip turned to the side on his perch on the ladder and in doing so his elbow brushed against the bucket of soapy water resting on the top. "Hoop!" he yelped and scrambled futilely trying to steady it only for it to tumble out of his grasp off the ladder entirely. "Look ou-!" Rowen had remained so lost in thought he hadn't been following Harwin and remained standing by the ladder: a prime location for the bucket to land upside down smack atop his head with an echoing sloshing clunk, dousing his head with soapy water. "Whoops! Sorry there mate!" Phillip apologized as Rowen staggered back a step.
Sage's eyes widened when he saw what happened and he paused in the middle of working alongside the mechanics at the entrance of the hangar and bolted over to check on Rowen, who hadn't removed the bucket yet. Sage could see the panicked look in his eye as droplets of black clung to the tip of his distinctive forelock. The original blue started to show through as more of the makeshift dye dripped. Rowen quickly flung off the bucket and took off running with both arms clamped tight over his head, leaving the bucket to tumble to the pavement and clatter noisily.
"Whoa, c'mon mate, s'just a spot o' water now! No need ta panic..." Harwin commented.
"He's got a sensitive scalp!" Sage shouted and held up his hands at the others before taking off in pursuit of Rowen. The statement elicited a round of hysterical guffaws from the rest of the squadron present: even dour old Victor Avens broke out laughing richly. Neither the captains nor Ellis had joined them yet that morning. Sage found Rowen behind the barracks with a ragged towel covering the top of his head. Sage walked over and pulled up one edge to inspect the condition of Rowen's hair. Whatever black hadn't dripped out leeched into the cloth towel.
"Bahmert! Where are you?" The two Ronin glanced to the side in a panic upon hearing Gage's voice. "You're good with mechanics, right? You happen to know anything about-" Gage rounded the corner and paused upon seeing Rowen with locks of blue hair peeking out from under the towel. Gage grimaced awkwardly then shook his head and massaged his temples. "You know what, I've learned its best to just not ask..." he muttered and turned around and walked away, shaking his head. The two Ronin exchanged surprised looks.
"Here, stay out of sight. I'll go see if I can find something you can use," Sage assured and gave Rowen a pat before leaving. He searched the buildings, trying to find anything resembling paint, oil, grease, or polish. He came across a cluttered storeroom and walked up and down the aisles, checking shelves and inspecting the labels of small jars and cans. He found a small jar of translucent grease...close but not quite...clear oil...no that wouldn't do...this can of paint looked too dry...ooh, stove black! Sage gathered up usable jars in the crook of his arm.
"Hmm?" he frowned when he spotted something through the shelves and leaned down slightly, peering between the racks. It looked like a boot, or rather a pair of boots leaning crookedly to the side. Sage frowned, wondering if someone had forgotten them. Only a little bit of morning sun filtered in through the dirty windows, and judging from the dust voids on some of the shelves, very few personnel used this particular storeroom. As Sage moved closer, he could see pants tucked into the boots. Perhaps someone had retreated to the dark recesses to steal a few more hours of undisturbed sleep? Sage rounded the corner of the shelf at the far wall. He froze in his tracks and his breath caught in his throat.
The mouth hung open in disbelief, the lips dry and cracked. The eyes looked milky white, indicating several hours had passed. Dark marks around the throat indicated strangulation as cause of death. The attacker likely throttled him from behind and dragged him into the darkest, dustiest corner possible.
It was Ellis.
AOD Soundtrack
1. Late Night Ambush-Whiskey in the Jar-The Dubliners
2. Here to Help-Compass-Two Steps From Hell
3. Mainland Guests-Star Sky (Instrumental)-Two Steps From Hell
4. Awkward Aspirants-Flight of The Silverbird-Two Steps From Hell
5. Higher Calling-Wanderlust-Nightwish
6. B-17-Ride to Victory-Two Steps From Hell
"We have a problem..." Sage hissed. "Ellis is dead!" It walked past casually and flashed them a smile. It saw them, and they saw it, knowing full well neither could act without revealing themselves.
"Yes! Go on! Claim the power which is yours by right!" Cye goaded with wicked glee.
"It should be mine! It must be mine! It belongs to me!" Arago growled as he approached.
"They fear the destiny ahead of you!" Ryo said over his shoulder.
"What 'destiny'?! I'm a crofter's wife!" Murdina squawked in reply, exasperated.
"Your fuel's been hit! You need to bail out NOW!" Rowen could only watch helplessly as Sage tumbled out of the cockpit, his back grazing the tail of his plunging craft.
"Ryo...got a problem here: she's not breathing..." Kento stated and tilted his head up in Ryo's direction from where he hunkered over her limp form. "RYO?!" Kento's eyes widened in horror.
"I SHALL RULE THIS MORTAL REALM! AS EMPEROR!" He threw his arms wide and tossed his head, reveling in his dark rebirth. Rumbling, sinister laughter issued from the fanged mouth.
Present Preserved
Author's Notes
Rowen and Sage's mission is meant to tie into "Far-Star-Traveler", the AOD prequel I've been working on intermittently throughout the years. There is a scene I have in mind either in a separate AOD chapter or the prequel itself where Ander's children manage to track down his first wife Annalaise and a geriatric Harwin, who by then would be the last surviving member of the original Silver Saviors. Annalaise is initially resentful that Aleksander abandoned her and had all these adventures, but eventually realizes how much he meant to Thanged. Harwin hits it off with Ph'li and Ko'li and regales them with tales of their grandfather.
I have the worst track record when it comes to guys. For whatever reason I seem to attract all the crazies. I once knew a guy who apparently thought Germany and Texas were right next to each other because he wanted me to drop everything and move overseas to become his "submissive Christian wife". I'm not exaggerating, I have the screenshots.
A couple months ago I had something of an uncomfortable blast from the past. A former coworker calls out of the blue assuming all was forgiven and I went certifiably thermonuclear on his ass. He was probably the closest person I ever had considered myself to have dated, and but for him being a self-admitted shameless man-*censored*, I might've considered marrying him. I never discuss my writing with anyone locally, because its such a niche franchise very few people have ever heard of it. I'm an introvert: I guard my space. "Toxic" seems overused: this guy was straight up rancid. He loved to talk ad nauseum about his favorite show and claimed to have 'insider knowledge' about a 'un-aired spinoff' which I strongly suspect was his personal fan-fiction. He soured me on that franchise so thoroughly, to this day hearing the first bars of any "Kansas" song makes me want to punch the radio.
The antagonist Colby fights in Neo Ronin Ch. 13 is my eternal middle finger to this guy. He honestly sounded more angry that I called him a parasite for mooching nonstop than I was for the way he treated me. The staggering level of petulant gas-lighting he attempted was so far beyond the pale even after so many months I'm still trying to wrap my head around it. It became painfully clear that he only ever pretended to share similar interests in an effort to get into my pants-and call me old fashioned-but I wouldn't surrender myself to anyone but someone I'd spend the rest of my life with. I'd describe myself as a "gamer nun", he'd reply with: "Don't worry, I'll fix that." These were his exact words-and I will never forget them as long as I live-but he once said: "If we're going to continue hanging out, at some point you're going to have to put out for me." The only value I ever had to him was being the one girl he could never bag.