Six Years Ago…
Baltay Kojirough pushed through the desert.
A hood was pulled low over his face, and a tattered cloak -- pristine at the start of his journey -- billowed in the harsh wind around him. Leviathan rested at his side, bandages wrapped around the blade to conceal its distinct erald hue. For three days straight he had been making his way through the wastes of Abra-Facade, and Leviathan had tasted the blood of many beasts in those moonless hours.
He had to hand it to the Abra-Facadians -- they were nothing if not a formidable people. Apparently, upon parting ways with the alliance after the Thousand Revolutions, they had settled on this inhospitable world because it was inhospitable. They had desired a ho that would not coddle them.
Theirs was a philosophy surprisingly compatible with that of the Supremacy -- what a sha it was that circumstance had put them on opposite sides of this endless war.
Baltay shook his head, freeing himself from the haze of thought. He couldn’t afford to lose his focus -- not this close to the end. He’d seen the fate of those who let their will abandon him: their skeletons blended in with the pure white sand around him, their numbers growing as he approached the First Temple.
The cities of Abra-Facade were modernized, filled with starports and industry as one would expect -- but for the First Temple, where the prophets trained in precognition? No thod of travel could be permitted except the long walk. The unworthy would deal with themselves before they arrived.
Again… a philosophy so very compatible with Supremacy. That was part of why Baltay had chosen to co here.
He had trained his body and his swordsmanship as much as he could. At this point, there were very few people in the galaxy who could even hope to match him in the art of the blade. No, that wasn’t true… there was only one person who could yet match him with the sword.
The golden star nad Nigen Rush.
If he was going to bring down that star, if he was going to finally defeat his only superior and attain Supremacy of his own, he needed sothing more. He needed a new way to fight, a path for battle distinct to the one Nigen had claid and conquered. He needed to seize the future for himself.
Baltay Kojirough had arrived.
The First Temple was a truly gargantuan structure, a grand cylinder of stone that dwarfed Baltay as he stood in front of it. There were no windows -- apparently, exposure to the outside world was considered a distraction from the inner chanisms of precognition. The only entrance to the complex was in front of him: a massive archway, with a set of stairs leading up into the darkness. It welcod him like a greedy mouth.
This was it. This was what he’d been waiting for.
Baltay took in a deep breath through lips ravaged by thirst, went to step inside… and stopped. Soone was standing there. A girl, clearly waiting for him.
"Hello," she said. "You made good ti, Baltay Kojirough."
NEBULA NINE
Luna
"The All-Seeing"
Nebula of Abra-Facade
Damnation.
Baltay grabbed hold of Leviathan’s hilt, ready to pull it free and leap into action in a heartbeat. Physically, he knew he was at his limit. Even if this child was on the weaker end of the Nebulas, there was no guarantee he could defeat her right now.
In contrast, Luna remained the picture of calm. Her hands were clasped in front of her and -- although her face was concealed by a spherical white helt -- her body language exuded a sense of nonchalance. She stepped off the bottom step of the staircase, passing into the sunlight.
With the way the sun reflected off her white dress, Baltay noted, it had to be so kind of plastic. Didn’t she get overheated in this kind of place?
"Peace, Baltay Kojirough," Luna said, her voice quiet and breathy. "I have no hostile intentions towards you."
There were things following her, too, hopping down the steps in her wake. Rabbits, bizarrely enough -- blobs of pure white light sculpted to look like bunny rabbits. Baltay regarded them warily. No doubt they were part of Nebula Nine’s ability, but what was their purpose?
Only once the familiars -- three in all -- stopped beside their mistress did Baltay look back up at her and reply.
"I find that hard to believe," he said. "In case you’ve forgotten, our governnts are at war."
"That’s correct," she replied. "But Abra-Facade maintains its sovereignty. Many tis has their path crossed with that of your Supremacy. Your Helis-Audrey, for one. Goodness, you wouldn’t even be the first of the Seven Blades to co here."
Baltay snorted. So that asshole’s boasting had been true, then.
"I’m guessing you already know why I’m here, then?" he asked, slowly lifting his hand away from Leviathan.
"Of course," Luna replied. "You’ve co to learn to see the future. You wield a blade in your hand, but now you seek to turn your mind into one too. It’s the nature of humans to reach for the little they do not have."
Baltay raised a doubtful eyebrow. "And you’ll help ?"
"That’s right."
"Why?"
The tiny ports all over Luna’s helt made it seem like she had countless staring eyes, but beyond that it held no vestige of expression. Even so, Baltay got the distinct sense that she was smiling at him.
"It’s for the best," she said.
04:43
It was a curious thing, to see the futures.
It felt like Baltay lived in a world of shattered glass. All around him, facets progressed along their paths -- so unlikely and indistinct, others as clear as crystal, all but inevitable. Every movent he made scattered the possibilities into new configurations. Sotis even a thought was enough to do that.
The observed was sensitive to the attention of the observer… sothing was yet misaligned.
As their temporary alliance -- Baltay, Gretchen and Morgan -- ran through the streets of the Perfud District, Baltay knew he had to move carefully. He could see corpses in the future, lying in their yet-to-arrive wake -- mountains of bodies, belonging to Morgan and Gretchen alike.
If the opportunity presented itself, they would kill each other. That made things difficult. From the distant future -- a sudden, razor-sharp image -- Baltay saw how Muzazi would react under those circumstances. It wouldn’t work.
If Baltay wished to settle matters with Atoy Muzazi, Morgan Nacht needed to remain alive. That was why he’d need to block that killing blow in three seconds ti.
Baltay rushed forwards in a flash of green Aether, deflecting the strike that would have taken Morgan’s head off. Nacht whirled around, a second late in reacting, and Gretchen pulled out a gilded musket to point towards the source of the attack. The thing that had struck Leviathan retracted back towards its master.
A man smiled casually at them from the other side of the street -- and in that smile, Baltay saw countless iterations of this road filled with bloody gore.
Mid-Tier Bounty Hunter
Karl Larik
Larik was a white-haired man, wearing a similarly white suit, his hands in his pockets as he advanced.
He strolled casually towards them, his implent waving in the air above him. The thing he’d used to attack them was a tendril of flesh as thick as a human torso and long enough to stretch from his tailbone all the way across the street. A mouth like that of a lamprey pulsed and retracted right at the end, eager to take a bite out of them.
Baltay had never seen this thing before in his life, but in so versions of the battle to co, Larik would brag about it himself. A Killing Engine. It seed a surviving Inimant had co to kill them, too.
"Hey," Karl said calmly, his eyes glassy -- fixed on Morgan -- as he slowly walked over. "Hey, hold up. I want to talk to you for a sec."
The Engine lashed out -- once, twice, thrice -- each ti trying to bite off Baltay’s head. Leviathan danced, green blade deflecting the blows easily -- but the scales of the Engine were thick enough that Baltay couldn’t draw blood. The poison would be ineffective, it seed.
Gretchen fired off a volley of shots at Karl’s main body, but he swept a pale umbrella through the air and repelled them. They slamd into the buildings around him instead, great chunks of the stonework crumbling away like they’d been bitten into.
Launching a ranged attack would obviously be difficult on his part, too, Baltay supposed. Despite the obvious advantage in it, he couldn’t just charge in and close the distance, either. If he did, Morgan Nacht would take his chance to escape as well. Sotis, he killed Gretchen too, and in no version of the scenario was Baltay able to convince him to rejoin the group.
So long as Baltay was in close proximity, though, Nacht wouldn’t dare act against him. He needed to maintain that status quo and fight from range.
Four, three, two… there’s another deathblow coming up.
Baltay sheathed Leviathan and grabbed both Morgan and Gretchen by the scruffs of their necks, leaping up into the air just as the Killing Engine attacked once more. This ti, it belched forth a compressed stream of vomit, the acidic bile lting through the street and buildings as it pursued the group upwards.
"Gretchen," Baltay said calmly. "Grappling hook. The building with the Bitalo sign. You do the sa, Nacht."
Neither of them hesitated. Two lines shot forth -- one of tal, one of Fog -- pulling them up and out of Larik’s range. He would pursue them, of course, but they’d manage to gain the advantage for the next couple of hours.
As they landed on the rooftop, Baltay felt a future where Gretchen’s head was cut off the second they landed. He cast a glance at Morgan, and that possibility was imdiately deleted. Baltay suppressed the urge to sigh.
This was going to be a long night.
But that was fine.
In so ways, in fact, that was a comfort.
Almost casually, he pulled his two companions out of the way of the evening’s next lethal blow. A colossal, slavering hound -- emaciated to a skeletal degree, save for a grotesquely distended stomach -- had been waiting on the rooftop for them. Beady yellow eyes much too small for their sockets swivelled around to track them.
Baltay raised Leviathan.
Gretchen raised her musket.
Morgan readied his fists.
This encounter, like so much else tonight, would be the least bad option.
04:45
The Kennelmaster groaned as he stretched his arms, popping the joints with a faint satisfaction. Tonight seed like it was going to be one of his easier jobs.
Atop one of the abandoned apartnt buildings, he relaxed. He’d had Storage bring along that comfy couch from the Heir’s hotel room, its relatively pristine appearance a stark contrast to the rusty surroundings. Another small dog served as a footrest while he closed his eyes, observing the battles through the senses of his hounds.
He’d lost sight of the Heir for the ti being, but it was only a matter of ti before he acquired her again. The Howler he’d sent out had been slain by Gregori Hazzard, but that was fine too -- he had Howlers to spare, and a force of combat-ready hounds better suited to the paper bastard had already been dispatched. All good, all going well.
There’d be two confird kills there before long, one of them being the Heir. In his mind, Grain was already evaluating vacation destinations.
Eater had given him sothing more of a surprise, all things considered. It seed like Baltay Kojirough had shown up to defend Morgan Nacht. The old leader of the Seven Blades, who was supposed to have been locked up in so loonie bin. Maybe he’d escaped?
Eh, whatever. Surprising, but not concerning. More dogs were on their way to that spot, as well. While the Kennelmaster waited on his comfy couch, his hounds would bring down the night for him.
Humming a half-rembered song to himself, he lit a cigar and savoured it, smoke drifting up to blindfold the moon.
What a great night this was shaping out to be.
04:46
Samael Ambrazo Zakos smirked as he took in the forces aligned against him, the dread insectoids from the Hive of Malkuth. A dozen glowing red compound eyes were pointed directly at him, evaluating him, taking his asure. He couldn’t bla their trepidation: there was a great deal for them to take in.
"How appropriate!" he cackled. "Yes, it truly becos to swat flies such as these!"
Still, what an atrocious, absurd and utterly unacceptable situation.
The person hanging from Samael’s grip right now was a wanted fugitive from the Supremacy. Yakob del Sed, part of that rapscallion Skipper’s crew, an ally of the blue-eyed bastard that had slain one of the finest Special Officers this nation had ever known. They were an avatar of disrespect and derelict morality.
By all rights, Samuel should have just dropped them and watched with keen interest as they splattered on the pavent below.
no
But no. He still had need of them, he supposed. Now that he’d managed to resurrect, tearing himself from the very bosom of the gods and returning to the land of the living, he needed leverage to restore his rightful place in this fetid universe. There may be doubts as to his capabilities in this new fragile shell -- he needed to cast those aside imdiately. Presenting this criminal scum directly to the throne of the new Supre would serve nicely.
no
But no. Samael refused to disgrace himself in that way. He had seen it on the videograph on the way here, after all. That bastard Hadrien was Supre now -- Hadrien, Hadrien, his na was Hadrien, not ’the Supre’ -- and Samael was damned if he was going to debase himself in front of the one who’d brought him low through such dishonorable and dishonest ans in the first place. If a man could not respect himself, what respect could he earn from the world?
nebula
Samael smirked as he looked at the two powerhouses before him. The man with the shield, Rufus von Frostburn, was pumling his third Warrior to death atop his makeshift platform -- while the man with the spear, Jamilu Aguta, was watching Samael warily. A wise decision on his part. Still… Nebula Two and Nebula Five, eh? Now that was interesting. He didn’t know what these two were doing here, but could this not be an opportunity presenting itself? Y breaking a window open for His most beloved child? If he allowed these two to work alongside him, could he not secure himself a position of prestige back in his holand?
yes
Samael’s smirk widened into a grin…
…until his eyes flicked over to the man behind Frostburn.
Atoy Muzazi.
not important
"Muzazi!" Samael roared at the top of his mighty lungs, the Aether-infused pressure of the noise vibrating the glass around him. "Atoy Muzazi!"
not important
NOT IMPORTANT
nebula
NEBULA
Indeed, common sense would dictate that Samael’s focus should be on the Nebula right now, on executing the next phase of his master stratagem… however.
Common sense was naught but the ladder of the common man. For those who could fly, it served no purpose! Samael jabbed an empathic finger in Muzazi’s direction, even as the swordsman looked back at him in confusion.
"Behold!" he jeered. "The great Atoy Muzazi, so-called finest among us, brought low as dirt! Do you regret it now, reprobate?! Looking down on the great Samael Ambrazo Zakos?! Huh?!"
Atoy Muzazi blinked, his face illuminated by the dying light of a smashed Malkuth skull.
"Who?" he asked.
doesn’t matter
not important
ignore
forget about it
IGNORE
Oh, this bastard was dead.
Samael tossed his quarry over his shoulder, their body landing in a pitiful heap on the roof behind him. Golden Aether began to crackle around his hand as he prepared to attack -- this would be an easy one. Right now, he neither had his automatics nor his money, but both of those forms of strength were for the weak alone! He had no need of them.
This novel’s true ho is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.
As he was right now, a re chunk of rubble would be enough to send Atoy Muzazi flying down into the abyss. Ah, what a pitiful pile he would make! What sort of lody would his impact with the ground sing?
For his part, Samael couldn’t wait to --
A shadow fell upon him from behind.
"Aieee!"
He whirled around just in ti to see a Warrior of the Hive of Malkuth bringing their weapon down for the killing blow. Their arm had transford into a structure like a chainsaw, tal teeth spitting sparks haphazardly through the air. Samael went to pull the brickwork from the wall behind it, to pelt the back of its head with stone, but he already knew the attack wouldn’t make it in ti.
Terror tugged at his heart…
That’s not fair, though!
…only to vanish as a crimson spear skewered the head of his enemy.
Jamilu Aguta appeared a second later, hand already grasping the handle of his weapon once more, and tore it free with such strength that the head of the Warrior ca off entirely, spinal cord trailing beneath it. Spinning around, he sent that head flying -- smashing into the chest of the second Warrior who’d been swooping in. As he deflected the rapid-fire blows of two more insectoids, he glanced back at Samael.
"Samael Ambrazo Zakos, right?" he said seriously, sweat pouring down his brow. "I’ve heard you’re strong. Let’s discuss this."
Samael grinned. Yes… that expression, that intonation, that adoration! At long last, soone who understood!
This was more like it.
’Annatrice’ didn’t know why ’she’ was here.
’She’ had woken up in the hospital…
…forced ’her’ way out…
…and ca here.
But why?
It had taken one mask to find this place.
It had taken another mask to reach it.
And it had taken a third to save them just now.
But why?
It hadn’t been the idea of one of them, had it?
Had it been ’her’ deciding to do that?
For what reason? ’She’ didn’t understand.
’She’ didn’t understand at all.
04:50
Ruth grunted as she finally pulled herself onto the building, her entire body screaming that it did not want to be pulled up onto the building.
She could barely even comprehend the situation anymore. They’d been attacked by so kind of swarm of bug-n -- and even now, they were barely being fended off by the combined efforts of the Nebula. Rufus sent jets of fla flying with each punch he threw, incinerating anything in their paths, while Jamilu kept five of the things at bay by himself as he defended the del Sed body.
In all the chaos, Ruth had actually managed to reach this rooftop without much trouble. As she struggled to rise to her feet, she looked up at the other new arrival to this bizarre scene. Annatrice del Sed. It seed that, while she’d been getting up here, the girl Bruno and Serena had saved had reached so sort of agreent with Jamilu.
"Very well," Annatrice sniffed, brushing her nose with a thumb as she looked at him. "As our interests align, I’ll work alongside you people -- for now."
That Ruth just didn’t understand at all, and her brain had basically reached capacity anyway. Instead of concerning herself with it further, she turned her head to look across the roadway. Whatever these bug things were, they’d essentially ford a ’human?’ barrier. Muzazi and Rufus were stuck on one side, while they were stuck on the other.
Her eyes flicked around, looking at the countless specks in the sky quickly growing closer. More of these monsters were coming, seemingly without end. Jamilu followed her gaze even as he defended them, his expression growing taut as he saw they were soon going to be overwheld.
He made the choice.
"Rufus!" he shouted over the street, Aether bolstering his vocal cords. "Get Muzazi to the evac! We’ll find the friend!"
Rufus didn’t hesitate. With a stoic nod -- and a final fiery punch -- he adjusted the angle of his fla-spitting shield, sending himself and Muzazi rocketing off into the night. Annatrice watched them go with a sneer.
"Hmph," she grunted. "Hopefully it’s the last we see of that scum."
05:00
It didn’t take long for Rufus to get them out of sight.
The majority of the Hive of Malkuth’s forces had been occupied trying to bring down Jamilu, and Rufus had managed to lose the few that had broken off from the swarm while they escaped. Before long, they had been able to get off the shield -- dropping down into Velvet Palace, an amusent park that had been closed for the Dawn Contest. The dark skeleton of the park had almost seed like a cage around them as they’d made their way through the complex of sleeping whimsy.
Beneath the massive ferris wheel that ford the park’s centerpiece, Rufus had dug up the entrance to a maintenance tunnel. Apparently, his Ultraviolet allies had marked this place to the Nebula as a potential hiding place in advance. The two of them moved as fast as they could through the stretching tunnel, barely illuminated by flickering lights above.
"Wait!" Muzazi shouted, his breath ragged as he ran alongside Rufus. "Stop! Stop, damn you! I already told you -- I’m not leaving my --"
Rufus glanced over. "Relax. Your pal is gonna be fine, okay? If Jamilu says he’s gonna do sothing, he’s gonna do it. So I’m not concerned at all."
Muzazi winced -- a combination of pain from his injuries and the turmoil bouncing around his heart. Was that really alright? Aguta had definitely shown that he was a master of the spear… but could Muzazi just leave the task he’d set his heart on, the life of his most precious ally, to soone else?
"If you were with him," Rufus cut through the haze. "Could you do anything?"
Terror answered before Muzazi could.
The two of them suddenly ground their heels into the ground, skidding to a halt, as so animal instinct seized hold of them. They could not move any further. Under no circumstances could they move any further. Their bodies understood that imdiately, and it was only as their eyes adjusted to the gloom that their minds caught up.
A blue ’X’ shone through the darkness. A visor. Rufus’ eyes slowly widened. Soone was here. Soone had been waiting for them.
A man in an ocean-blue Armoured Chassis, and an aura that beckoned death.
"Found you."
05:03
"Found you."
Without a word, Rufus moved in front of Muzazi, raising his massive shield defensively. If this was the guy the Ultraviolets had warned them about, then he wouldn’t be able to block the first attack completely, but he should still be able to mitigate the damage. He narrowed his eyes, tensed his grip, prepared himself for what was coming.
The guy called Appointnt -- yeah, this was definitely Appointnt -- remained perfectly still. With that opaque visor, Rufus couldn’t even tell where the bastard was looking. Was he focused on Rufus himself, or on Muzazi behind him?
Appointnt’s next words made that clear.
"Rufus von Frostburn," he said, voice echoing down the dark tunnel. "I’ll kill you before anything else."
"Oh?" Rufus cracked a fanged grin as he readied himself, turning the thundering of his heart into a drum of anticipation. "You got a grudge against or sothing?"
"No."
Neither of them moved. Neither of them spoke. Neither of them even seed to breathe. Finally, Rufus shifted his footing, just enough to make sure that Muzazi wouldn’t be hit by the splash of this first attack. Judging from the Chassis that Appointnt was wearing, it would probably be so sort of ranged strike -- gunfire, or maybe even a missile. Rufus tensed his legs, just slightly, preparing himself not to go flying after the block.
That last tiny movent was the starting gun.
Appointnt raised a finger. "B --"
Nah. Forget blocking.
"Bastardborn!"
A jet of fla burst forth from the face of Rufus’ shield, striking Appointnt in the chest and sending him flying down the tunnel. Luckily, Rufus had still had so force saved up from the Hive of Malkuth’s attack.
His relief lasted only a mont.
In an instant, Appointnt was back upon them, a crescendo of fla engulfing the hallway behind him as his thrusters blasted at full force. A kick of steel struck Bastardborn with rciless impact -- and Rufus’ preparations ca to naught. Imdiately, he was sent flying, zooming back towards the entrance of the tunnel from the force of the attack.
Muzazi disappeared from Rufus’ sight in a second -- but for so reason, Appointnt chose not to go after the helpless Full Moon. Instead, he continued to pursue Rufus, reducing the strength of his thrusters to a more tolerable blaze as he blasted after Nebula Five. Even with that reduced speed, though, it only took…
One second --
Two seconds --
THREE --
Without even having landed yet, Rufus threw his shield down once more, blocking a punch that would have obliterated him entirely. The uppercut was still strong enough to shake the earth, however, and Rufus was sent crashing up through the ceiling -- erging a second later in the crisp night air of the Velvet Palace. Montum shot him up towards the sky, the park spreading out below him like so picked-clean carcass.
Apparently, the impact of Appointnt’s attack had been strong enough to trigger so automated systems -- and so, slowly, Velvet Palace was coming to life. Lights flicked on one after another, like countless garish eyes slowly opening, and the ferris wheel began to spin whimsically. Gritting his teeth as the wind whipped against him, Rufus lifted his shield up, firing off a smaller jet of fla to propel himself towards the ground.
He landed with a thud, feet nearly buried into the ground by the impact. As he picked himself free of the concrete, Rufus looked up, eyes focused entirely on the man who could still kill him at any second.
Appointnt had erged from the tunnels as well, and now floated high above the waking amusent park as if he was its master, the ferris wheel turning behind him like an oversized halo. Slowly, as Rufus caught his bloody breath, the armoured man raised a finger as he had barely twenty seconds ago, pointing it at the distant Nebula.
"Booking Hold," he said.
Alright. Break’s over.
Rufus broke into a sprint as Appointnt’s attack began. Dozens of huge blue rings -- like hula hoops of light -- blasted out from Appointnt’s extended finger, weaving through the air as they pursued his enemy. Rufus vaulted over a rry-go-round’s pony as he deflected the first ring with a swing of his shield -- it shattered easily, but that was little comfort.
Appointnt’s confidence was such that Rufus knew this was an ability he could not afford to take a hit from. If one of these rings managed to make contact with his body, he got the distinct feeling that it would all be over. Rest in peace, Nebula Five.
He needed cover.
Rufus used his environnt to his advantage, charging through a gift shop and allowing the rings to smash into the aisles behind him, dissipating into nothingness. For a mont, he managed to break Appointnt’s direct line of sight, the roof of the shop providing a temporary barrier between Rufus and the annual killer. No doubt it would only take a mont for the bastard to switch his visor to a setting that could see right through that roof, but it was a mont Rufus was grateful for.
In a fight like this, every second counted. You never knew which one would be your last.
Rufus considered how the hell he was going to get out of this one.
Appointnt was strong, real strong. The absurd restriction he’d put on his power ant that his power itself had beco absurd. Even without using any wacky abilities, his physical specifications on their own were high enough that Rufus would be lucky to be reduced just to paste. The advanced technology of his Armoured Chassis only heightened that threat -- the way he fought was similar to One.
But… couldn’t that be a path to victory, as well? Even if it was infused up to the nines, a machine was still a machine. If Rufus could damage that hunk of junk enough that it beca a liability, there was a chance he might be able to escape with Muzazi while Appointnt had to make repairs.
It was better than nothing, and it was all Rufus was going to get -- as he heard the voice of death.
"Schedule Breaker."
Moving on instinct, Rufus pointed his shield up to the sky, and just in ti. Countless bolts of thick red light smashed through the ceiling, blasting against Bastardborn as the force pressed his body closer and closer to the ground. The gift shop was obliterated in an instant, scattered stone and steel reduced to tatters before it could even hit the ground.
Before long, Rufus stood in the middle of a burnt crater, holding his glowing shield above his head. The attack had lasted only a few seconds, and it had taken all he had just to withstand it. Oh… but he had withstood it.
Rufus grinned.
"Bad move, asshole! Bastardborn!"
A jet of blue fla was spat forth by Rufus’ shield, crossing the air in an instant as it barreled towards the flying Appointnt. The temperature of this counterattack didn’t compare to the one he’d unleashed against the Tree of Might, but it would still serve to scratch the paintwork of Appointnt’s fancy Chassis. He could only hope it served so internal damage, too.
Only… Appointnt just raised his hand to et the incoming attack.
Oh, bullshit.
"Liable Cause."
The fire was captured.
As if an invisible hand had seized hold of the flas, it was suddenly compressed, the beam becoming a white-hot sphere in front of Appointnt’s palm, growing smaller… and smaller… and smaller… until it vanished. Appointnt closed his fist, and with that simple gesture it was as if though the attack had never even happened at all.
Rufus blinked.
"Ah, shit," he said.
With a flash of blue Aether, Appointnt was no longer in the air. In fact, Appointnt was standing in front of him, staring down -- his only expression the ’X’ of erasure. Rufus hadn’t even been able to see him move… and so, of course, he stood no chance at seeing him attack.
The kick slamd up into him, sending him flying into the sky once more.
05:07
Atoy Muzazi felt sha shiver down his spine.
What was this? Jamilu Aguta was fighting for him, for his own selfishness, carving his way through this nightmarish city to find Morgan Nacht. Rufus von Frostburn was fighting for him, for his own survival, throwing himself against a man he surely knew he could not defeat. And what was Atoy Muzazi doing?
Nothing. He was standing here, in the rubble of a shattered tunnel, like an insect himself. He was standing here, waiting, and watching. He could see the blue light of Appointnt shoot up towards the red light of Rufus, ready for the killing blow. Would he just watch that too?
"What’s up with you?"
"I lost."
"Oh. Huh. That’s fine, though, isn’t it?"
"What?"
"Well… I don’t really get how you Supremacy guys do things… but you’re still alive, right? So you just need to win next ti."
Had Atoy Muzazi lost?
His hands tightened.
No. Not yet.
05:09
As Rufus von Frostburn flew, his grip slipped from his shield. The two -- warrior and weapon -- soared in the sky, separated, each an instant from destruction. Rufus’ yellow eyes began to roll up into unconsciousness.
Damn. He’d lost, hadn’t he?
Well… it’s not like it had really been a fair fight, so he guessed he wasn’t too sore about it. There were way more boring ways to go out, anyway. Even through the haze, he could see Appointnt rocketing upwards, ready to finish him off with a skull-shattering punch. Yep, that would do it.
It wasn’t like Rufus von Frostburn was afraid of dying. It was just… was he really going to die so easy?
In the bad old days, on Adrust, it had just been him and his sister. Rufus and Agnes von Winterburn, in the midst of the snow and the starving, doing everything they could to live another day. In the end, they had survived, they’d thrived until they stood on top of the snowball that had spawned them… it hadn’t been easy, but they’d done it.
His sister had been so sick, back then, so frail -- and so it had fallen to him. He had found them food. He had found them shelter. He had found them warmth. Even though he was just a kid too, even though he was just as helpless as his sister, he’d been able to grab the world by the collar and make it give up what they were owed.
Why?
Because Agnes had been counting on him.
She was counting on him now, too, to co back ho. The people at HQ, too, they were counting on him to complete his mission. Jamilu was counting on him to et back up like they’d agreed. More than anyone, that guy Muzazi down there… right now, he was counting on Rufus. He was counting on Rufus to keep him alive.
Was Rufus von Frostburn really about to let soone down?
Nah. So long as soone’s counting on … I ain’t letting go of this shield.
Rufus’ hand reached out -- and seized hold of Bastardborn once more. His eyes snapped back into focus. With a roar of exertion, he reached into its face -- plunging his hand into the molten tal -- and pulled forth a sword of blazing blue hellfire.
"Hm?!"
Appointnt imdiately ceased his ascent, throwing his arms up to block instead. Rufus plumted down, sword pulled back, its blue glow illuminating the sky behind him. As he slashed, he scread out the blade’s na:
"Laevateinn!"
But…
"Booking Hold!"
At this distance, Rufus stood no chance at dodging the countless rings. Imdiately, the sword died in Rufus’ grip -- and a second later, a punch struck his shield from above, sending him rocketing down. A plu of smoke rose up as he crashed into the ground, shield still in his hand as he laid spread-eagle.
Appointnt landed atop the rry-go-round before him, blue Aether crackling as he perched on the roof’s central point. His paintwork was unscratched, and his deanour was unchanged. For this man, it was like the fight had never even started. He looked down at Rufus rcilessly as the Nebula struggled to pick himself back up.
"Forget about using that sword again. The force you stored was cancelled out -- and I know you don’t have ti to gather more."
Rufus glared back up at him. He’d known this guy was stronger, to be sure, but it didn’t piss him off any less to be talked down to like that. He spat smoking blood down onto the ground.
"Go fuck yourself," he grunted.
If Appointnt took offense to Rufus’ words, he didn’t show it. He just raised a hand, as if he were going to swipe it down through the air. Rufus’ eyes focused on that hand. For a mont, it beca the entire world.
He didn’t know how… he didn’t know what ability would be used… but Rufus knew, in his bones: the second that hand ca down, he would die.
Sorry, sis. I ssed up.
The hand reached the crest of its ascension, and finally ca do --
"Radiant…"
White light erupted from behind Appointnt, and imdiately the bounty hunter whirled around.
There, at the mouth of the shattered tunnel beneath the ferris wheel, stood Atoy Muzazi.
He had gone crazy. As he raised his sword of light above his head, force drifting from the pillars he’d stored underground, blood burst out from beneath his bandages. He was pushing his body past its limits once again, opening his wounds… but now there was the spark of glorious insanity in his eyes. Not a trace of despair existed in that face.
"...ALMIGHTY!"
He swung his heavenly blade -- and the light of oblivion poured forth, rushing towards Appointnt. For his part, the armoured man just raised a hand to et the incoming attack. If that tal suit had pockets, Rufus had no doubt he would have stuck his other hand in one. Arrogant bastard.
"Liable Cause," the man said. "If you’ve been watching, you should understand --"
But the attack rushed past Appointnt --
"Oh."
-- and struck Rufus’ shield instead.
He didn’t need it explaining to him. "Bastardborn!" Rufus roared, bloody spittle flying from his lips as he thrust the shield forward.
The Almighty counterattack fired forth as a winding serpent of white light, striking Appointnt in the back and sending him flying -- right into the center of the ferris wheel above. That wasn’t the end, though. As Rufus slowly rose to his shaking legs, he continued to fire, screaming with the effort as the heat continued to flow.
Even with all his strength, and all his technology, Appointnt was held in place by the attack -- and the ferris wheel that ford his bed was not nearly as strong or as advanced.
It began to lt. The talwork crumpled around Appointnt and bound him, his body sinking into the dribbling cage as he struggled to push back against the beam. Thirty seconds later, the man had vanished entirely into its molten maw.
Rufus let out a breath of steam as he looked at what was left of the ferris wheel. At this point, it looked like so sort of dying oyster. He was still staring at it, waiting for Appointnt to burst out once again, when he realized Muzazi had arrived next to him.
"Are you alright?" the Full Moon asked.
Rufus looked his companion up and down. He was covered in blood, and his body had been scorched by his own attack, but he was standing tall. Despite it all, that sa light from before was still lingering in his eyes.
"I’m good," Rufus replied, voice full of grit. "How about you? You good?"
"Yes," Muzazi said -- and smiled. "Yes… I’m okay now."
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