Put the pot on the burner, things are starting to heat up again…
This entire situation was utterly ludicrous.
That was the best way Pyra could sum up what was happening. One second they were making their way swiftly through tunnels, attempting to "catch up" to Rex and Mana's Driver. To that goal, they'd left Dromarch and Tora behind, the former still recovering his strength and the latter… being Tora.
Things changed when they had to circumvent a collapsed aqueduct, venturing above ground and finding themselves smack dab in the center of a quagmire. The buzzing insects and thick muck had been a hindrance, enough so that they hadn't quite noticed the lack of animal noises.
And then they were ambushed.
By brogs…
Pyra ducked a lashing tongue that smacked into a tree trunk. She went to bring her blazing blade down on the sticky appendage when a gob of slime rocketed into her left hip. Pyra fell to one knee as the tongue retreated.
It didn't get far before Nia sloshed in beside the Aegis, sailing a rising slash in pursuit of the appendage. The brog attached took the slashing wave of swamp water to the left side of its face, blood spraying from the freshly opened wound.
From the direction of the first muck bomb, a second sped towards Nia. Mana pitched himself into its path raising a blackened arm. The horned Blade swung out with his hardened limb, battering the putrid projectile aside.
Then Pyra rotated past him, swinging her sword in a mighty, horizontal arc. A wave of heat and flame surged out, prompting the spitting brog to dive down into the swamp.
"The hell is happening," Nia voiced for the group. Mana would have shrugged in response if he didn't have his arms in a cross guard, catching the brow of a charging brog. Nia's scimitar flashed as she cut into another speedy tongue. The Gormotti girl twirled aside as another massive amphibian made to body slam her from above, causing an eruption of muddy water.
Mana then threw his deadlocked opponent into the brog assailing Nia. The wart covered beast recovered quickly from its body slam attempt, leaping backwards to avoid collision with its tossed kin. The retreating brog was still midair when Pyra vaulted off of the thrown amphibian, her blade raised high.
The Aegis Sword crashed down in an iridescent crown splitter, cleaving into the creature's skull. As the brog fell limp with a final, squealing wail, Pyra found herself a second of calm.
"No lumbering about, let's move!" Nia amplified her statement by snatching up the red head's arm. Pyra was back on her feet in an instant, forcing her way through knee high water as she moved in the cat girl's wake.
Mana formed up close behind, pushing through the shallows with sheer brute strength. The dark skinned Blade kept his head on a constant swivel as Nia steered the group towards a patch of higher, solid ground.
"Incoming," the horned man screamed as a veritable tsunami erupted from the stagnant waters. Mana hurled himself forwards, hurrying past Nia who, in turn, threw Pyra towards the earthy mound.
The Gormotti Blade herself turned to face the oncoming swell. With a flick of the wrist, she summoned one of Dromarch's rings into her off hand, wielding it alongside her scimitar. Just as the crushing wave was ready to overwhelm her, Nia spun in a tight circle, wheeling her weapons into sequential, upwards arcs.
Her sword unleashed an aquatic cleave that blasted into the approaching surge. Immediately the two forces halted, vying momentarily for dominance. Then Nia swung her chakram up.
A pulse of ether accompanied by a resounding roar tore free of the Blade weapon. Backing the scimitar strike, the dual attack shattered the center of the tidal wave, water erupting to the sides, avoiding Nia and company.
The Gormotti girl didn't let up, stomping forward and driving her two weapons down. The marsh water parted, a pair of powerful slashes racing forth across the water's surface.
On the – tentatively – receiving end of the attack was a runt of a brog. While its dark green skin was fairly standard in comparison to the reds, purples, and saffrons of its brethren, the thing was only about the size of a large dog. Truly on the low end for a brog, perhaps a juvenile of sorts. Despite that… the group of Blades could sense something "extra" about this opponent, something that marked it as somehow more capable than the others.
Nia's waterborne attack was stopped, quite handily, by an instant outcropping of clay. The moist wall of earth was about the size of a set of double doors, Nia's strikes digging a ways into its dense front. Then the slashes were smothered, consumed by folds of flowing mud.
Upon the dwarf brog's left wrist, a thick band of copper glowed, one of two divots in the trinket illuminated a hot amber. Mana shouldered Nia out of the way, holding out his open palms towards the clay wall. There was a distinct cracking sound as the earthen barrier quickly dried out and solidified. The brog behind it was leaping before the process had even finished, rocketing feet first into the center of the rock wall.
Stone scattered towards Mana in a powerful burst. The horned Blade caught a large slab in his hands, the thing cracking inwards from the force of impact. A second caught his shoulder, the stone shot shattering to pieces and hardly rocking Mana's frame. The entirety of his arms, from the edges of his chest down to his finger tips, were blackened.
His forehead was not. When the errant pebble sped through his defenses and pegged the man on the noggin, it sent him reeling. As the muscular Blade stumbled, the diminutive brog launched itself high above, intending to come down on its blindsided foe.
The Aegis jumped at the green beast, howling out as she readied her blade to strike. The amphibian's sharp gaze shifted towards the red head, its broad throat swelling to an insane degree in a scant second.
Pyra swung her sword early, unleashing a surge of lame. Her target likewise expelled a cascading blast of water, the second divot on its bangle shining with cerulean light. The opposing forces met with explosive results, filling the area with a dense cloud of hissing steam. Pyra landed in a heavy crouch, sword up and straining to find the enemy through the mist.
A great cleave from Nia's scimitar banished the thick haze. She threw a certain look Mana's way, though the dark skinned Blade wasn't paying much attention to her. Mana kept his head on a swivel, scanning the trees whilst Pyra looked out across the marsh.
"Fucks sake," Nia seethed, likewise turning to peer into the trees and mist. "That's the third animal attack we've had to deal with."
"No," Pyra declared, not bothering to face her co-Driver, "they're not just random animal attacks." The Gormotti girl turned a quirked brow on the Aegis who still wasn't looking.
Mana hummed at the red head's statement, "You noticed too? I'm thinking it's the little one with the glowy band, that's the ring leader."
The word "ring" jogged something in Nia's memory. "That woman with the drill hair, the one who attacked us back on Gramps. Her rings…" The cat girl let it hang, Pyra halting momentarily at the reminder.
"Ingrid," Mana said, "the second in command. Y'all must really have the devil's luck to come out of a scrap with her and still have all your limbs."
Before the conversation could continue, several more brogs emerged from the placid waters. Mana hopped away, urging the girls to ignore the beasts and proceed towards their goal.
Then the little green bastard returned, its bronze bangle looking oddly dull at the moment. That may have had something to do with the "plus one" it had brought along, a true mammoth of a brog, the purple beast easily the size of an Ardainian Titan Weapon. And the duo, with the "ring leader" perched upon the giant's head, had slammed right down in the group's path.
Now Nia was getting fed up. "Slimy bastards are trying to block us, keep us from regrouping."
Mana growled, his own shackles rising. He stepped forward in a boxer's stance, his arms blackened with defensive ether, "They're gonna need a lot more if they want to stop us."
As if on cue, the purple giant parted its broggy lips, allowing its mouth to gape open. And within that massive cavity was a wriggling mass of smaller creatures, writhing and slithering against one another in endless undulations. Upas, Nia realized. The big brog had a mouth full of upas.
She sent a harsh glare towards Mana, the notion of "you just had to say something" heavy in her gaze. The horned man had the humility to look embarrassed.
Pyra offered nothing but a hardened face and a flare of ether, the Aegis Sword blazing like the tail of a comet.
Big smile in place, Saturn stood from his stool. Azami's weapon tracked his movements faithfully, but again, the zealot showed zero concern. Saturn only had eyes for the man – or rater "boy" – of the hour, his euphoric expression locked onto Rex's catatonic one. The pace of his applause steadily increased as he began to approach.
Amshel went to follow his Blade's example, re-aiming his handgun towards Saturn. He halted halfway as the chorus of several long guns swiveling around reached his ears. The rough looking escapee glanced at the space around him. Surrounding their group, Amshel could make out numerous silhouettes outlined in the golden glow of active power rigs.
More importantly, he could make out the shapes of weapons drawn steady on their position. Azami clicked her tongue, the notion of being outgunned clearly not agreeing with her.
By this point Saturn's eager applause had reached a fever pitch. The long coated man stood nearly side by side with Rex at this point, staring past the boy as his arms worked frantically to produce that thunderous rhythm. The mad smile that split the zealot's features could only just contain the laughter that oh so desperately wanted to spill out.
But not yet. No, no laughter until they reached the conclusion. They were just too close for this all to hit prematurely.
With one decisive boom, Saturn clasped his palms together. "Wish I could say the gang's all here, but we seem to be missing a key guest or two." The grinning lunatic snapped a flat palm to his brow and began a show of scanning the area. "Well, no bother. With you here, boy, I'm sure they'll be along sooner or later."
"Fucking spare me, Beetle Boots," Amshel cracked. If he couldn't raise his weapon, he'd settle for lashing his tongue.
Acknowledgment of his footwear was enough to draw Saturn's interest. The man snapped his fingers before jabbing his pointer towards the former prisoner, "Dearest Amshel! I don't remember giving you an invite to the party!"
Amshel affected some humor of his own, "Didn't you hear? I'm actually one of the guests of honor! This is a 'Going Away Party,' after all."
That cracked a chuckle or two out of the fanatic. Saturn shifted into a series of tsks as he wagged his raised finger in the negative. "Now, now, now, no need to be telling tall tales. Though I do suppose you could call this a 'Farewell Celebration,' of a sort." The madman tapped his digit against his beardy chin in a show of childlike contemplation.
Rex stepped forward, the action powerful and singular. Several of the glowing rifles snapped in the young salvager's direction, their frames beginning to burn a bright gold. Saturn's arm shot up, palm flat in the "hold" gesture. The array of weapons powered down but did not lower.
The zealot leader maintained his easy demeanor, even as the boy in blue advanced with halting steps. In fact, Saturn only seemed to become more elated as the young man went forward, the lanky fanatic keeping a casual pace with him.
"Gra… Gramps…"
He took almost no notice of the man in the wide hat and long coat. Rex strode right along with Saturn practically in his shadow, dragging the head of Kassandra's hammer behind him. He hardly registered the weight even with his arm hanging limply, his grip still iron clad around the weapon' handle.
With his free hand, Rex raised a reaching palm towards the devastated form of Azurda. "Gramps-"
And then Saturn swung out his arm. All sound cut off. Everything aside from the sharp clattering of a small object skipping across the stone floor. Rex froze as the familiar thing slid into view, its journey ending right beside him.
He was far from the only person wholly focused on the pale little trinket. From within the green tinted confines of the massive tank, Kassandra also kept her gaze locked onto her face-
The brunette's fox mask was lain across the stone floor. Its scarlet orbs stared vacantly up into the vast void serving as the chamber's ceiling. That felt like an odd observation to Rex but it was true – the mask seemed… hollow. Empty in a way that should not be.
A face with no identity.
Rex's fingers twitched, then froze. His entire body remained still, wild and trembling eyes attempting to stay steady on the discarded fox mask.
"You feel that, boy?" Saturn's tone had become much more measured, an air of almost-sanity settled about him. Amshel kept a sharp eye on the azure coated zealot, able to pick up on the boundless mirth lurking just under the surface.
The boy in question, again, paid little mind to his hat wearing adversary. He made to take a step towards Kassandra's mask but only scuffed his boot across the floor. Rex's legs were starting to quake as Saturn paced a loose orbit of the young salvager.
"Feel that hollow pit forming in your belly? Feel that nasty pressure building up in your throat, like something tryin' to force itself out?" The fanatic's gait was almost playful, legs swinging to and fro in a childish mockery of a march. He kept his palms clasped at the small of his back, holding his hammer by its head and allowing the haft to swing like a stiff tail.
Amshel watched as several of the assembled grey cloaks half relaxed their stances, weapons lowered slightly. They were drawn in by their commander's words. Eager to see their hated foe broken.
Azami's black bordered eye began to glow.
As Rex took a more successful second step, Saturn suddenly shot in close to the boy. Amshel flinched more than Rex did, the young man still fully intent on the fallen mask.
Saturn's scrutinizing stare roamed over the salvager's features. He smoothly kept pace and distance as Rex took another shaky step, the boy sinking low as his legs seemed to give out momentarily. Saturn allowed a smirk to show.
"Yeah… yeah, you're feeling it."
The vertically inclined maniac loomed tall over the blue clad lad as his next, trembling step took him to his knee. Even with the questionable strength of his legs, it seemed clear that Rex meant to drop at this point. After a brief pause, his arm slowly bridged the distance between the boy and his goal.
His naked fingers brushed over the brow of the pale mask.
Azurda sounded another pained bellow. Rex's eyes shifted to the skewered titan, though his stance didn't change. His digits remained solidly on the surface of the mask, his features stony and neutral.
Saturn stood, bent over at the waist, his head hovering just over Rex's shoulder. "Confusion, shock, impotency." the zealot spoke in a whisper, his tone growing more feverish with every word. The long coated man brought one palm to the boy's other shoulder, affecting an almost consoling air.
"How does it feel to be on this side of the equation?" When Rex gave no response, Saturn jostled his frame a little. "Come on boy, how's it feel? Are you getting sad now? Full of rage?"
Amshel could feel his fingers going numb from how tightly he was gripping his pistol. Azami, by contrast, was quite composed, her left eye now burning fuchsia. A tiny grin was forming on the dark Blade's lips, her discerning gaze noting something no one else was seeing.
Rex's fingers were now pushing into Kassandra's mask with increasing force.
Saturn righted himself, keeping his "comforting" palm on the young man's shoulder. He idly flipped his grasp on his hammer, catching it by the center of the shaft and allowing the head to hang down. "No words," Saturn intoned, nodding his head in some form of understanding, "I see. I've been who you are, the helpless one. I know what it's like." He gave Rex's shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
Then, his grin untouched and expression serene, Saturn tossed his gaze towards a subordinate standing to the side of the colossal tank. "Max out the flow, drain the skank down to nothing."
Amshel swore, instantly raising his magnum. Azami followed suit, but neither of them could match the speed of the assembled troopers, their rigs shining gold. The pair of them against over three dozen riflemen made for a woefully one-sided stand off.
Almost in time with Saturn's order, the back tank flared a bright emerald as the current visibly strengthened. The liquid flowed violently now, a sound akin to rushing rapids piercing through the heavy glass of the tank. The purple ether that had once been drawn out of Kassandra in swift streaks now formed a swirling miasma around her, quickly being smothered and consumed by the voracious current.
Saturn's "comforting" grasp relented, that same hand readily snatching up a fistful of Rex's short hair. "Watch her die," the Benevolence leader commanded, his voice still contained as he made to wrench his captive's head towards his floating Blade.
But Rex didn't budge. There was a brief cracking sound, Azami's grin widening enough to show teeth.
The fanatic tried again, throwing his whole body into the endeavor. Saturn took no notice of Rex's fingers pushing through the brow of the fox mask.
His coat aglow with sapphire sigils, Saturn threw every ounce of strength he had into dragging the young salvager's head into position. A sustained effort managed to drag him an inch -
Rex's fingers touched the floor, the cracking of the mask breaking through the room at a deafening volume. Saturn had an instance to blink before a burst of violet aura erupted from the boy in blue, hurling the man back. At the same time, Kassandra's eyes flashed scarlet, a titanic crack blitzing across the front of the large container. The tank's current quickly ceased, the vibrant glow of the active liquid turning dull.
Around the young salvager's pressing digits, the pale fox mask crumbled into shards, the shards further turning into powder. The plume of particles were scattered by an unseen breeze as Rex finally began to move, unbowing his crouched position. The hand that had punctured Kassandra's mask was brought up, fingers spread, to the boy's face.
A brief flash formed in Rex's palm just as it settled over his features. As though summoned from the air, pale particles swirled into place between the young man's hand and his face. Rex manged to turn himself partially to Saturn, his sidelong gaze showing a smoldering flame of loathing in his eye.
And then his expression was covered. In nearly an instant, the white contours and crimson orbs of Kassandra's mask solidified, melding onto her Driver's face. The dark aura rolling off of Rex collected into his dangling hand, forming into the shape of the bandage bound shield hammer.
Like the boy wielding it, the bludgeon too leaked out a malevolent energy. The divot in the hammer's head, burning violet, released a particularly "eager" smog of shadow.
Saturn now had his own weapon drawn in front of him, both hands gripping the shaft tightly. He couldn't help the instinctual reaction, the spike of fear that took hold of him. It was the natural response towards being faced with such overwhelming hatred.
But as Saturn realized the scope of what he was seeing… the animal terror was driven to the back of his mind. His signature smile split his features as he happily huffed out the word, "Finally…"
"Din~ner, din~ner time is here~!"
Praxis merrily lead the way down the corridor, her free arm swinging in joy as she dragged Poppi along behind her. The robot girl mirrored her "big sis'" free arm swings, both of them marching down the hallway with straight locked legs, exaggerating the motions as much as possible.
Theory allowed a soft smile to brighten her features. She did make sure to stay well clear of arms length of both girls, lest she be dragged into the display. The ice user had her limits.
The trio strode down the length of the dining hall, Praxis maintaining her musical nature. Theory quirked a brow at the rather vacant cafeteria, the amount of personnel waiting for food pretty lacking considering how close to dinner time it was. She also noted that none of the "brains" from the labs were present, the guy always wearing the hazmat suit notably absent.
Praxis bluntly thrust her free palm forward, pushing through the half door separating the dining area from the kitchen. "Patty! What's for dinner!?"
As Theory followed her "sisters" into the kitchen, she paused as Praxis' loud cry filled and faded from the space with no hint of response. A scan of the room revealed a lack of people preparing food. It also revealed the obvious signs of a scuffle.
Poppi went wide eyed as she spotted the fallen over cabinet and the miniature avalanche of scattered, broken dishes spilling out of it. Praxis lost her hold of Poppi's hand and marched swiftly about the kitchen, calling for "Patty" with mounting desperation. Theory's eye narrowed as she started a slower pace/scan of the room, moving opposite her spear using sibling.
A few plain clothes Benevolence members poked their heads into the space, Poppi holding up a fist to indicate they wait.
Her sister's searching shouts were terribly loud in this condensed room. Despite that, Theory's sharp perception picked up on a disturbance. Steady yet speedy, the ice Blade strode over fallen pots and cutlery. She winced a bit as she walked past a splash of blood, now able to follow a trail of droplets towards the muted sound of something thumping.
Coming up to the door of a walk in pantry, Theory reached a hand out to her side. The straight edge of her frosty saber materialized with a series of icy crackles. She didn't bat an eye as Poppi crouched low in front of her, her large round shield whirring into formation as she put herself between Theory and the door.
The frosty Blade did roll an eye as she heard Praxis leap onto the center counter behind them, kicking an errant pan onto the hard floor. The swoosh of rushing waves came and went quickly, the water user summoning her trident and no doubt angling it towards the pantry.
"Patty, if you're in their, we're coming through!"
The element of surprise thoroughly lost, Theory speedily reached for the closet's knob. Giving it a quick twist and a sharp jerk, she was right on top of Poppi as they breached into the modest storage.
They didn't have to go far to find Patricia and company. She and one other were bound up in coarse ropes, the man flung carelessly against some sacks of root grown vegetables, clearly unconscious. Patricia was lain out in the center of the room, staring up at her saviors with a look that was half haunted, half furious. The redness on her cheek and forehead said that she'd been making the earlier noise by slapping her skull against the floor.
In a heap on the right side of the pantry was a third figure, unbound. He was still, a pool of blood formed around his body and a stream flowing towards the doorway. The man was clearly dead, a blackened hole gouged out of his front.
"Patty," cried Praxis as she pushed her way into the room. Theory turned back to the kitchen, Poppi stepping aside as the swordsmaiden walked out of the pantry. Nearby, she spotted more of the roused and worried Benevolence members making their way towards them.
"Sharpen up," Theory yelled, "we have two injured and one casualty in the kitchen storage. That means its time for a rat hunt. You manage things here and get the injured medical attention. I'll go bring this to Arthur."
Poppi stepped fully out of the pantry as a pair of folks rushed past her. She caught Theory's back as the girl dashed through the direct access between the kitchen and the outside hallways. Behind her, she could hear Praxis fretting over Patricia and the sounds of bindings being cut through.
Abruptly, the artificial Blade's focus was drawn upwards. Along a corner of the ceiling, a rounded ventilation duct ran the length of the kitchen. And from that narrow canal came a hushed round of shuffling. Poppi continued to gaze at the grilled opening for a few seconds, seeing and hearing nothing further.
Then the robot girl shifted her vision into infrared.
Immediately, she perceived a flashing bead of red light at the base of one of the slots. It blinked in a repeating pattern, alternating between long and short flashes, conveying a message. After two rounds of the pattern, Poppi set her jaw and moved her right hand to adjust her beret slightly.
She continued to stare at the vent as the light blinked out. After a few seconds of stillness, the soft shuffling from before started up again, drawing across the upper wall and then out of the kitchen.
Poppi turned, moving in the opposite direction of the lurker in the vents. For now, she would offer aid to Praxis.
She would be ready when her Masterpon made his move… she had to be.
It is going to pop off in the next entry, you'd best believe!
The opening sequence is funny for me as the writer of various ongoing stories. Not sure how many of you readers are also following Stoking Embers, but it only just struck me that both of the fall updates have a scene where our main cast is assailed by amphibious opponents. Really had my head in the swamp this time around, I suppose.
Opera gets a highlight and we see how her two jewel band has a similar elemental power to Ingrid's. It's funny how oftentimes in Xenoblade the harshest fights are against the natural wildlife as opposed to the standing army of a nation or the local shadow organization. This sequence is a bit of a nod to that while also showing that, despite her diminutive appearance, Opera is the alpha amongst her people, commanding even colossal brogs to fight for her. And it's good to have a variety of foes for our heroes to deal with.
Saturn is very eager to get things underway. There's this sort of desperation to ruin Rex, to force upon him an unrelenting despair and ultimately to see the boy crushed. It goes a bit beyond just being a sadistic fuck, almost to he point of a physical need for the man.
And he gets his wish in the end, pushing Rex beyond his breaking point. But while Saturn seems pleased at the moment, he's probably not realized entirely just how Rex is about to express his state of being. And, of course, he can't really account for how Kassandra's influence will affect him. Side note, but I modeled Rex's "berserk mode: activate" after Ichigo's initial "hollowfication" from Bleach. Make of that what you will…
Amshel and, especially, Azami are primed to go. Time to get this "Going Away Party" off the ground.
The Sisters Three discover the situation in the kitchen and the alarm is about to be fully raised. Poppi gets a secret message from a certain furry vent creeper and the escape plan is officially ready to go. Now she just has to follow through…
Next time: back into the fray! And a chaotic link up for our divided parties.