-=-=Underground Antechamber=-=-
In Souta's rash anger, he did not perceive that his fast thrust attack might fail, and that Gideon might flip the script and eviscerate the human in a single hit. Far too late did Souta spot the triple blades of his adversary's Bone Gauntlet, on a collision course for his torso. A direct impact at this range would spatter his innards and splash his spinal fluid all over the opposing wall, let along bypass his water aura as if it were nothing. The art student's adrenaline turned the instant he noticed his incoming death into an agonizing moment in which he could do nothing but stare, a look on his face not complete enough to register as horror, and think about how little he wanted to die.
The Bone Gauntlet ripped in, crushing core material. Souta yelled in fear, but the sound that immediately preceded this noise was not the gruesome
shluck of a newly-made corpse, but the sound of rending metal. Abruptly, the weapon's path stopped, hanging in midair except for some odd distortion around the blades. A steely whisper emanated from the empty space in between Gideon and Souta,
”Don't you touch my baby brother.”Otsune's invisibility wore off, revealing the catastrophic damage dealt to her left arm. While cybernetic, the sparking wound nevertheless managed to inspire a semblance of terror for what might have otherwise been. As one the two siblings jumped back, with the younger awash with relief that he imagined might soon turn to embarrassment. As Otsune studied the extent of her 'injury', as coldly as if she hadn't just saved Souta's life, the latter watched Gideon turn his attention to the newcomer.
At that moment, a resounding crack echoed through the antechamber. The humans turned to see the stone blocking the door stood no longer. Through the aperture rushed a wave of greenish energy and a ominous, worrisome pressure. Atlas rushed inside, followed by the others with Babyfingers guarding the rear, and together they stood on a lip over the abyss and witnessed the destruction of the second seal.
No words could to justice to the feeling of catastrophe that took hold of them. Freshly out of one traumatic experience, Souta didn't know what to think.
”We...didn't even get here in time?” His eyes swept over the various interesting people inside the huge cavern, and they beheld the beginning of the collapse.
”Chikushō...” Next to him, he heard tearful sniffling. He turned to see Ell, hunched over from the pain, limping up to watch the fall. Pity overwhelmed him, and he put his arm over her should as much to comfort as to help her walk.
”Don't cry. We'll do better next time.” He glanced at everyone else, searching for support.
”Come on, let's get out of here.”And they did.
-=-=Gilgamesh Branch Office=-=-
The fact that Gene avoided Tickler's frenzy attack incensed her -naturally- but did not bother her unduly. If anything, she disliked how he seemed to be trying to play defensively. Did he mean to wait the berserker out? Perhaps he put too much faith into his attack from earlier. Few ordinary women could sustain an unrestrained punch from a man, particularly one with such power as the Effigy, but the Tickler did not constitute an ordinary woman. Putting her natural and trained toughness aside, she had been altering herself even before service in Gilgamesh. Modifications to her physique, coupled with flexible but top-of-the-line body armor, meant that though she went through severe pain every second, she would not be bleeding out.
“Вы идиота думать мне слабой,” she roared, and taking a solid stance, she sent the Morbuzahk's tentacles forward.
You are an idiot to think me weak. Like the heads of a hydra they surged through the air, aiming to impale, ensnare, and crush.
At the same time, Macbeth wore a quiet smile. As he 'attacked', he took note of the resilience of Antonio's weapons, and the practiced hand that rebuffed the twinbladed assault. This dance continued until Antonio made a crucial error—opening his mouth.
Among the soldiers used by Gilgamesh, Macbeth had always been an odd one. First and foremost in the company's mission came the assertion of humanity's place in the trinity of realities, which not only hinted at but demanded combat with angels and demons. Yet Macbeth, grim, softspoken, and enamored with suffering, chose from a young age to train himself against humans. He knew how they thought and acted—he could practically read Antonio like a book. When the paladin opened his mouth to offer a witty one-liner, Macbeth guessed that he was about to do something special. Yet he did not immediately transition to an attack, and so the clever swordsman's eyes landed on the shield.
Drastically Macbeth slowed his attack, withholding his strength so that his blades struck the shield at quarter-power. Instantly he found himself shunted backward, the force at which he attacked taken and redirected against him. Then from Antonio came a brief but brilliant glow, no doubt meant to herald a righteous counterattack and end the fight in one shot. Feeling truly insulted but smiling anyway, Macbeth allowed the blade to come, and at the crucial moment he span to the side. The ludicrous, bone-crushing force of Antonio's attack proved his detriment, carrying him right past Macbeth and out of range. The swordsman snickered.
Looks like my playing has convinced him that I'm an amateur. I wonder if he's seen through the act now? He eagerly anticipated finding out.
The moment never came. There came a sound of thunder, and underfoot the earth shuddered. Tickler nearly fell backward, and she instinctively retracted her weapon's tentacles to steady herself. Making sure that he stood outside Antonio's attack range, Macbeth steadied himself. Over the next few seconds, he remained still as the earth rumbled on, moving only when it trailed off provided one of his enemies did not attempt to make a move. “Well,” he began. “This complicates thi...?”
A harrowing screech interrupted him, bidding all present to look out toward the street. Before the combatants' eyes, a car flipped end over end, metal crumpled and glass disintegrated. Through the street echoed the clamor of a great bell, ringing out as a wave of smoky darkness swamped the ground. A purple glyph appeared in the murkiness, and from the portal rushed a looming Hell Vanguard. The twelve-foot-tall demon swung its scythe at a nearby abandoned hot dog sand, slapping it like a hockey puck down the street. It clashed noisily against the shield of a huge, red-armored Ardor whose form shivered in the damaged veil meant to hide angels from the eyes of humans under normal circumstances. Without any further ado the two warriors locked blades, the Vanguard screaming horrifically all the while. From the darkness rose a troop of Hell Prides with interspersed Hell Sloths, some of which attacked the Ardor. The rest turned their sights on the two other beacons of holy energy nearby: Gene and Antonio.
Macbeth chuckled darkly. During the action he and Tickler had regrouped, the latter bereft of her berserker rage and doubled over in pain. “Adieu, adieu! We'll let the demons sing you to your rest.” The pair retreated hastily, fleeing into a back room and sliding shut the vault door behind them.
News stories across America, separated as they were by distance, ideals, and more, temporarily united to cover a single breaking story: the disaster befallen Barlour City. According to witnesses, the ground began to quake in a surprise tremor just after noon, while most folks hid indoors from a storm unprecedented for the region. City officials quickly decided to sound the alarm, and in minutes the entire populace was in full evacuation. People streamed out of the city by bus, in cars, on bikes, and on foot. Social media coined the ongoing event the 'Barlocalypse', and the net buzzed with sensationalized stories about the ground ripping up and bizarre entities running amok. Miraculously, the casualties were minimal, but still a tragic amount were dead, wounded, or missing. Everybody agreed: within hours, the city looked and felt like a warzone.
In truth that estimation did not at all miss the mark. The destruction of the Eidolic Cairn marked the rise of chaos, not just of the land itself, but among the forces of heaven and hell. Waves of demons and angels appeared in various locations in the city, quickly developing into a bloody struggle. The remaining members of the Demon Hunter's Organization and the Order of the Sword found their hands more full than ever before if they chose to stay; against individual or squads of enemies, a group of talented combatants could hold their own, but either a legion of Hell and a platoon of Heaven could wipe humans out instantly if they interfered in the ongoing battle. Gilgamesh, counting the mission as a complete loss, wasted no time departing along with the civilians. Its SUVs, vans, and helicopters left the branch office packed to the brim with personnel and property. Meanwhile, the inhuman occupants of the city could very well choose to fight it out if they wished, yet all that lay before them was a glory-devoid battle of attrition.
Yet even as the individuals who participated in or witnessed the battle for the Eidolic Cairn dispersed, they would never be alone. Mary, Souta, Silas, Fenn, Snider, Wrath, Lily, KYL, Kosara, Akoni, Gene, Antonio, and Midori all felt it. Deep underground the spirits of ancient humans had watched their every step, but after the destruction of the Cairn and the passing of the spirits, the feeling of being watched did not fade away. The hairs on the backs of necks remained raised; the senses of the sensible continued to tingle. Several hours after the end of the incident, whilst the war in Barlour raged on, it finally became apparent why.
From nowhere there would come a voice, a lackadaisical sort of greeting. Then again, it didn't come from nowhere; it came from a
being, tall, gaunt, shadowy, and utterly unexpected. Where could it have come from? Its six eyes gleamed a sinister green-blue, and it seemed very much like a demon, but unlike demons, no attack made against it would have any effect. Making itself at home in whatever environment it found its target it, whilst both speaking and acting in an annoyingly condescending and smug manner, the creature explained that its target had been summoned—by who, he or she might ask? Why, by the true authority of the cosmos. Of course, the watcher would be only too pleased to escort its target. Brooking no disagreement, it would reach out and grasp the target even if he or she refused before warping away into darkness.
-=-=The Open Road=-=-
Somehow, participating in the mass exodus from Barlour made the failure of Gilgamesh, and indeed everyone, that much bitterer to Souta. He expected that the soldiers felt the same, if not worse. They, after all, had more to lose. As much as this disaster pained him, Souta reasoned that he could not have been expected to do any better. One could not, after all, demand an art student and arms maker to be as adept a fighter as a trained warrior. While a small part of him glumly acknowledge the selfishness of the declaration, he concluded that he did the best he could. These assumptions, of course, could not be run by any of the Gilgamesh operatives. During the first phase of the evacuation, Otsune received an order to go and pick up one of the reinforcements, a cyborg called Kyle or something like that, who got himself damaged during the proceedings. Still not overly pleased with the near-annihilation of her forearm, Otsune rerouted the request to Souta, who obeyed to pay her back. Taking a crappy abandoned car, he had quickly sought out and picked up the cyborg, but not fast enough to join the others in their orderly retreat. So now Souta drove on the open road in a station wagon, Kyle in the backseat, with trouble receding behind them and trouble coming up ahead.
As much as he tried to concentrate, the man's mind did wander as he cruised down the highway. In fact, after passing through a tunnel, he did not notice the car's newest occupant reclining in the passenger seat until she sighed and remarked,
”Ah, don'tcha just love the highways in the afternoon?”Souta nearly jumped out of his skin. In his panic he careened over both lanes, but fortunately there were no other cars on this scenic route. Slamming on the break, he pulled over, practically tore down the door, and tumbled out onto the grass. From inside the car the dark specter snickered.
What's the matter, kid? You look like you've seen a ghost.” She floated out and seated herself on top of the car. Looking at Souta and Kyle both, she continued.
”Terrible manners to show to someone like me. I'm an important person, you know. Very busy. Very important.”Two oversized fishhooks appeared in Souta's hands. The watcher clucked its tongue -or at least, made a sound similar to it despite an apparent lack of a mouth- and told him,
”Won't work, kiddo. Try all you want; can't touch this.” She laughed even as one of the hooks passed harmlessly through her head, after which she put on a hurt expression. Naturally, her six eyes and lack of discernible features made this difficult to pick up on.
”Oh, aren't you the cutest thing. Well, quit fidgeting and listen for a sec. You've been called for. I'm here to take you in.” She made her claws into finger guns.
Busted! Huhuhuhuh.”Feeling very threatened and irritated, Souta banished his Trawlers. He glanced deploring at Kyle before looking back at the watcher.
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