Two Versus Twelve

Ether roars into being within my frame, a gust of air filled with the substance siphoned directly into my lungs. The vacuum of Strugglers Gasp strips away the Darklight that kept the two humanoids stuck to the ceilings, causing them to fall right for me. Oddly, the luminous darkness fades merely from my gasp, the lighting fading to only what the embers and the moons provide.

I take a slight instance to think, gauging all these beings. The threats are many, and if Dominus is here, I need to run. After sprinting all the way here, I can't take these twelve plus Dominus. Yet, as I glance and scrutinize, I don't see him anywhere, nor did I see even a lick of colors from my sight of chains outside. He... must not be here. I suppose he left these twelve to slow us down while he escapes. Interesting.

A crooked smile pulls onto my face as Arbalest recoils within my right foot, sending me to one of the falling creatures with extreme swiftness. Before it can even react to my pace, I stab it in the eye with my dagger, wrapping my body around it as we crash into the pews below. Again, while we fall, I stab it, crushing its body with my weight along the way.

The creature lies unmoving when we land, and I compel myself to my feet, the other beings already upon me, their hoods lowered entirely to reveal the inscribed flesh of their skulls. Ironbound forms on my hand as I step from side to side, deciding who to strike next.

I make my choice with nearly as much decisiveness as the last, throwing my dagger into the eye of one of the figures that opened its mouth as if to scream. I don't want to risk whatever it can do, and I can fight fine with Ironbound on my palm. And so, with a quick toss, the second figure falls, my dagger sinking entirely into its skull, even to part of the hilt, and I dash toward the next, slamming my palm into its head as it leaps at me from a shattered stand. Midair, it collides with my hand, and the crunch is audible as Ironbound rebounds with palpable force into its brain.

A frigidness builds as the third dies from a collapsed skull, so I twist around, raising my arm over my face. Thankfully my instincts are sharp, an icicle slamming into my forearm, breaking against it and shedding blood.

The pain is blunt, and so is the cold, but that only makes my next target straightforward. Kicking forward, Arbalest springing me on again, a muted pain now emerging after the many uses, I tackle the figure with swirling frost around its arms. With a growl, it stabs at me with ice formed in its hand, but I flow Ether into Adumbral, my form Shadowing. The shift makes my frame indistinct and swifter to hit as I slam Ironbound against the skull of the hoodless abnormality.

Its skull shatters just as its ice did against my arm, but a sharp pain from my mind rears its head. Again, I shift around, only to meet seven creatures standing on two feet with an eighth behind them, pointing at me. Instantly I recognize the mental strain as coming from the eighth figure in the back. Abraham has always told me that Mentalists, alongside doctors, should be the first to be killed in any battle, so I lower myself and grab the blade of ice from the most recently killed one. Feeling the weight in my palm, I heft it up and down. It's a good blade, even if it's temporary.

A short pause ensues as the pressure builds in my mind, the seven merely staring at me. But I'm not dallying or wasting time; Ether is assembling within my body. Another Arbalest forms, and I repair Ironbound from the other attacks that damaged the weave.

Though it seems I'm not alone either in preparation. Two figures have blood flowing along their covered bodies, the sanguine liquid incoherent in movement. The other ones, too, are preparing, though they show no outside indication. My eyes tell me all are 3rd or 4th Sigils, but the colors are hard to grasp. I can only tell not that we are this close; the Mother Below must somehow be obscuring them from me.

I rarely battle beings lower than me in Sigil, but it is far more manageable than fighting people like Alexos. I don't have to worry about a thousand things at once; instead, I can simply fight.

Arbalest slings me forward abruptly, Ironbound fully repaired, and my love for the former skill grows. I slash the icy blade that chills even the Bloody Palm toward one of the two 4th Sigileds of the seven, and they barely react from Arbalest's instantaneous speed.

My sword crashes against a bracer made of some kind of steel revealed from my blade cutting through the figure's sleeve. A low growl comes from the faceless being as a tongue sweeps toward me from the left, vines growing from the flesh. Without wanting to risk what it does, I jump backward, my freezing edge leaving a trail of frost that the tongue and vines slam into. My attention then moves to the Tonguer that struck out at me, my mind starting to identify these as true Motherbounds, not just mere Plagued.

And as the others surround me, strikes lashing toward me of various effects, I Arbalest back into the heat for the Tonguer, wanting to remove the controller. However, this Motherbound is much slower than the other, and despite receiving a lash to the back from a shadowy rope and a mental scream from another, I glide the iced blade into the Tonguer's skull.

Heavy footsteps force me to twist as I see one of the figure's robes rip to reveal a growing form, the skin stretching and tearing as the creature towers over me in stature. Without skipping a beat, I Arbalest myself toward them, the pain becoming a prominent fixture of the skill. Even though I can likely only use the new skill a few more times before causing severe damage, I shoot at the colossal figure, and my edge is angled at its eyes.

It roars and swipes at me, but I'm far too fast to be hit. So, I leap over it, that is, until a tendril of shadow wraps around my foot, pulling me back down. A strangled cry comes out of me as I force the air out of my lungs from Strugglers Gasp, giving up on the skill to reduce the damage from the massive figure.

The world twists and spins as my ears ring and my body floats with pain. Then, another spike of pain reignites my vision as a wall collapses in front of me, a perfectly me-sized hole in it as it does so. Coughing, I gauge the damage mentally from my pain. I don't feel any broken bones. This Virtue... I would have surely broken something if I took that hit a week ago. Okay... everything is alright.

And then, spitting out some blood from a broken tooth, I rise with my hand on my knee, a form rushing from the church I'm now outside of. But before the form gets any closer, a flash of orange fur slams it, the two becoming a tangled mess in the wrecked street of Raystown. Regardless of how much I want to, I can't help Dakota, for yet another figure emerges from the church, the massive Dreadmarked coming into view.

And beside it is a figure with lines running all over its body; A Stigmatic.

Are these things becoming Motherbound as we fight? What the fuck! How?! Is Dominus doing this?!

I want to figure out what's happening, but the servants of the deepest God want otherwise. So they charge at me, the other four stepping from the collapsing wall, Ether rising from their forms as well.

Grunting from getting the wind knocked out of me, I rise to meet them, my Ether coalescing another Arbalest. But instead of jumping right at them, my eyes on the Stimgatic with whips of shadows, I Arbalest toward the ruined building to my left, their right.

Angling myself so that my left foot lands on the planks of the building, I Arbalest my left foot, soaring right for the Stigmatic. I need to kill that one first, and instead of letting myself get too close, I hurl the icy blade once I get close enough. The frozen edge sings through the air with a trail of frost; the Stigmatic tries to grab the sword with his tendrils. No you don't!

Before he can, I breathe in deeply again, my body drumming the edge of Ether saturation. Strugglers Gasp makes him lose control of his tendrils as I back up to evade the Dreadmarked and the others, the blade, diminished from my skill, sinking into the Stimgatic's heart. Good.

Five left to deal with and no more skills, though the fifth one, for some reason, is still inside the church. I'm too close to Ether oversaturation from using so much getting here, but I can feel the overall enhancement from my chains after being smacked out of the building. Had that happened a day ago, the hit likely would have almost killed me. But today, with my Virtue and strengthened Strugglers Gasp, I only have a not even a broken bone.

My eyes glance at Dakota as he manages to kill the Motherbound he previously ambushed. The fox then begins to circle the remaining four Motherbound outside the church as they stare at me. The Dreadmarked roars into the sky as one of the Motherbound turns into a blinding light, forcing me to look away.

But the resounding thumps of the 4th Sigiled Dreadmarked in green fetters force me to look forward with squinted eyes. Then, partially blinded, I meet the Dreadmarked's swing with a Blast as I try to deflect the strike. A shock from our meeting resounds as the Dreadmarked sways to the side. It's massive and oversized arm is sent reeling from my movement. And while it recovers, I jump forward with another Blast, directly into its misshapen head.

The Dreadmarked falls as I'm essayed from the side by a floating dagger. Raising my arm again to meet the threat, it sinks into my flesh before ripping itself out with a stream of blood. Yet, the laceration isn't too bad, only a slight stream following the steel. I sprint out from behind the Dreadmarked's body to find Dakota again on the ground with another Motherbound, the other two facing me.

But it seems one has found a gun while the other retrieved its dagger, the object hovering beside them. It would appear these have Sigils more like Abraham or Johnny, less suited for up-close combat. Johnny can still make his work, but not all can. Bad for them.

I scramble toward them as the dagger flies back out at me, and the other fires its revolver at me. Then, putting my hand out so that Ironbound will meet any bullet coming for my eyes, I feel intense heat along my back as a colossal pressure slams into my hand. Ironbound stops the first bullet before the second and third slam into my torso as the Motherbound shifts its target.

Thankfully, the lead doesn't go deep into my flesh, both bullets stopping on my ribs, but there are still three more. Lowering my body as I get closer, another flash of pain slices up my ankle as I almost fall, but my Virtue holds me together for the bullets to reach me.

Steel slams into my knee, sending me spiraling and causing me to dodge the other two bullets. Some Ether remains from Strugglers Gasp, so I force myself to not gasp out loud in pain as I roll upright, the floating dagger slicing me up.

After a short moment of effort, I angle my face forward, the two Motherbound now moving toward me, an idea coming to mind. But as it does so, a dagger darts for my neck, and I barely wedge my hand in the place, Ironbound's remaining weave keeping it from entering my spine. And it's the blade embedded into my hand as an arrow does on a bow that provides me with an idea.

The Ether from Strugglers Gasp is hard to control as it is not entirely my own, but that doesn't mean it's impossible. More complicated things than just outbursts and general enhancements can be made.

And so, as the two walk toward me, the dagger from one battling against my hand from diving into my spine, I push Ether into my hand from my lungs. The battle from my spine becomes more difficult. Still, I endure and create another string of gaseous Ether, the substance evaporated from its liquid form due to the pressure.

Another kind of Arbalest is made, except this one is slightly different. Ironbound finally crumbles as I clench my fist around the blade and twist my arm, pointing my hand toward the approaching Motherbound with all my mind. Then, I release the string of this focused Arbalest.

An Arbalest of might thrice the normal sends the dagger into the master of the blade in such a small timeframe that I can barely see it move through the air. And so, the knife enters and exits the Motherbound's skull before entering the wood of the church behind them.

The remaining Motherbound opens their eyes as I compel my body to stand, the creature still reloading its gun. Grinning, I stumble toward it, even as it raises its weapon, firing the four bullets it reloaded at me. As it does so, I merely raise my arm to cover my eyes as four impacts wrack my body, almost causing me to tumble.

But as my Virtue said, I hold myself together with dauntless will, my very chains fortifying me as I approach death. And so, unlike before, when the bullets stopped upon my ribs after breaking the bones, these four shots do even less damage, barring the third one that misses all bones.

The first enters my forearm and deflects off my bone, cracking it in the process. The second slams against my shoulder, bruising the bone as the bullet, too, deflects off. The third impacts my gut, entering smoothly into my torso and doing the most damage. The final round hits my sternum, the bullet yielding before the bone.

I can see a sprinkle of light in the Motherbound's eye fade as I reach forward and grab its gun before slamming the steel into its head. The last figure from the church falls into the mud of the ruined town.

Exhausted and moderately wounded, at least compared to usual, I sink to the ground, Dakota running beside me. He appears overall alright, barring a gash along his flank and a burn on his snout.

"I'm fine, buddy. Just... wasn't expecting that much resistance. Let's get in that church and check out the man on the wall. Plus, there was one left, wasn't there?"

Dakota whines in retort as he places his nose against my gut, the significant wound evident even to him. I pat him as I stand and walk toward the church.

"I know, boy. I know. I'll deal with it later. Reinforcements are on their way. We just need to make sure that if Dominus is here, he doesn't leave. Though... I don't think he is. The bastard would have attacked with all those guys, and we would have run had I seen him. So... I think we're fine."

Another whine strikes my ears as I lumber back toward the hole in the church, the bodies of my prey littered across the ground. My steps are short and pained, but if needed, I can burst with strength unfitting my form, courtesy of my Virtue.

And so, I step into the ruined church again, Darklight no longer rising from the floor. The congregation must have been what was causing that.

Yet, as I walk in, the remaining Motherbound stands before the upside-down man, their cloak shifting and waning. I amble toward them, pushing aside rubble as I do so, finding my dagger that I hold tightly as I step onto the lip where a priest of the Devil would generally speak.

"You just gonna ignore me after I killed all your friends? Where is Dominus?"

Despite knowing that speaking to them is mainly pointless, I do so anyway, the atmosphere too bizarre without at least some noise other than crackling fire. Surprisingly though, a voice comes back, the figure turning around with the familiar face of Vernon.

"I wasn't ignoring you, friend. Mother is just demanding, isn't she?"

The moment this creature with Vernon's face finishes speaking, my world shakes, and my mind reels with pain as the facade shifts again, this time to the look of Dominus. As it does so, the world becomes a tavern, both of us sitting at a table.

"She tries so hard for you. Why don't you just join her?"

Misery spiking in my mind, the world shifts again as everything turns into swirls of colors and infinite phrases from some unknown mass. I fall to my knees as the countenance deviates again, this time to Alexos'. As it does so, the world changes to a crevice in the desert, the older man waving ahead.

"Come on! Even I did! It's wonderful! You'll have a family again! There are so many of us! I wish I did so sooner..."

The face of Alexos catapults me from my agony-filled stupor. The man would never submit; even if he did, it would only be for a time. The master of trickery, deception, and survival would never surrender. Therefore, this is just an illusion, not reality.

Gritting my teeth even as the face changes again to a frame I don't see, I sink my dagger into the figure's chin, sticking the blade out from its skull. The illusion fades as the world returns to normal, the body slinking away and rolling off the stand as it dies.

I give its hooded form a meager glance as Dakota also wakens from a similar illusion. So it must have been a Groundwalker or something with illusory abilities... is that why the Mother Below wanted Alexos so bad?

A man like him with a whole new set of abilities? That... I don't even want to imagine that. We're lucky Ray wasn't corrupted long enough to develop his own skills from the Mother Below, or Johnny wouldn't have won.

Stumbling forward again, I reach the man hanging on the reverse cross and help him down. I remove the nails that keep him to the wooden frame, but he doesn't react. Instead, different colored and textured foams simply leak from his mouth as I lower him to the ground.

Kneeling beside him with Dakota, I can only wonder what's happening to this man. My eyes tell me he is a 6th Sigiled, the dark blue fetters evident of a life of struggle, but he is unresponsive.

And so, without knowing how to help him, I sit down and rip some curtain to bandage my wounds as I take some time to tend to myself and Dakota. The others should be here soon. Though, in case Dominus is waiting for an even better opportunity somehow, I move into a corner, hiding myself from any approachers.