[--] You are right. Perhaps I should come clean… There has been something I noticed. Although, I was initially unsure… To tell you the truth. [--] I suppose I should fill you in.

"GODS' SACRED! WHAT ARE THESE THINGS?!"

"ACH! IT BURNETH!"

The Huckleberrien line had broken, the disorganized soldiers having found themselves in an effective free-for-all against these merely thirty featureless pseudo-shades. They fired, yet their bullets were only absorbed, dissolved amidst the corrosive rust of purple-violet dust. They tried to stab with their daggers, bludgeon with their guns, yet the ravenous radiance only corroded the metal of their blades and most especially the wood of their firearms. Lacking physical form, there was no damage they could do.

The mimicking specters, meanwhile, were more than capable of ripping through them. Their arms-turned-tendrils could stretch, contort, and wrap…around limbs, torsos, and necks; they themselves could phase through man after man. Contact with their corrosive rust-dusty composition chewed through armor and attire, burning through skin and flesh as if decomposing acid, leaving behind blackened carbon mulch.

The screams of the soldiers, indeed, echoed the sphere as if joining with its resonating hum.

The Citadel guardsmen stared on with horror… It was all happening so fast. They clenched their pistols and swords with recognized futility, steeling themselves to sacrifice their lives in the undersecretary's defense.

The captain, breathing in and out, knew he had so little time. "Run." His widened realizing eyes lanced straight to the undersecretary frozen in place. "All indications from his words screamed that he's after you—each of you. They won't kill you." He focused on the equally frozen Raven. "So, take her hand and run! Find a better position in the ruins and hide! We'll distract these things. Run! Now! Run!" He spoke so fast.

Novea, retaking her bearings, so nodded her head. "G-got it! Got it!" Without even a fragment of consideration, planning, or even thinking of whether such a move was logical or not, she grabbed the undersecretary's hand and began to so beeline it.

"…Run? [Run?]" The Protector meanwhile rebounded from her own frozen fright, confused, "[And leave these warriors to die?!]"

"YES! NOW SHUT IT AND RUN!" Novea so screamed back; "LET THEM DO THEIR JOB! NOW DO YOURS!"

Indeed, trapped in here with it and him, there was…literally nothing they could do besides run, hide, and figure out the rest from there… To stall for as long as they could. The Protector, being what she was, would be their only effective defender—a fact she herself recognized.

Thus, the elf too—to her own dishonorable contempt—began to run, as fast as she could, catching up to Novea and the undersecretary who herself was struggling to keep up… Indeed, wearing heels aside, her legs and body were simply not as built for this as the other two were.

The metamorphized beast, more gargoyle than man, cackled away as he simply stood there, he himself having done nothing directly. His ignited eyes, that contaminated sigil radiating bright, saw his running prey retreating towards the ruins. Yet as the captain had predicted, the thirty mimicking specters did not give chase or detach from their focus.

In truth, the beast's control over them was…in fact…limited, as if these puppets while stringed to his essence were being…pulled by something else.

"THIS IS IT MEN!" the captain so readied himself and his men. "TOWARDS ADVENTURE AND BOUNTY! CHARGE!" The thirty-five guardsmen so charged in a final cry, firing their pistols as they joined whatever remained of the Huckleberrien soldiers now scattered and shattered.

And the thirty specters tore through them as they had torn through the Huckleberriens, with ease and speed—swiftly even if…horrifically. Shells, emptied and drained, fell one by one, two by two, three by three. The corpses, despite the tears and blackened burns, were nevertheless mostly intact; fibers in the ground began to coil and wrap.

The Protector, having been glancing, bore witness to the over a hundred slain. "[Crown's betrayal!]" Tsking with grit teeth, she dragged herself to a sharp halt, clenching her shield. "[Without meaning or purpose!]"

"Raven mother, ugh!" Novea, breaths flaring, skidded her own boots to a pause, her frustrated mask-obscured eyes glaring at the elf. "What are you doing?!"

"[Useless!]" yet shouted the elf; "[Our actions are useless, this running!]"

"Hah… Well, at least…that's a hundred of their garrison gone…" the undersecretary, her breaths panting and feet aching, so commented… She somehow still managed to keep herself collected, even though she was terrified; even though tiny droplets of tears were beginning to drip, despite her lack of crying. "Sapphire, no… Diamond. Frankly, I'd argue Onyx, if we include this whole sphere…" she plainly classified; "We're dead, aren't we…? Or… No, no… He's definitely gonna keep me…alive… Hah…"

The beast meanwhile had turned his attention to those three now standing, glaring with his horrible grin.

Yet the Protector remained steadfast, her own terror and fear now morphing into life-or-death resolve. Her outlined eyes flickered, the corrosive rust of dust in the murk…affecting slowly but surely. Nevertheless, her eyes brightened, and she tightly gripped her shield. "[I am the shield against evil—a Defender of Smiles' Crown!]" She eyed the beast who eyed in kind.

"Ah… I see…" The beast began to slowly stomp his way. "Your helmet does not hide those eyes…" He relaxed as if non-threatening even if everything about him was terrible. "Itching for a fight… Fine, yes… I shall humor with delight."

The thirty specters of corrosive purple-violet rot began to phase themselves through the cracks and gaps of the jammed and wrenched vaultish door. The soldiers in the tunnel, having heard the screams and horrors befalling the other side, had already readied themselves, though many had run… Their fates were ultimately no different.

Left, nevertheless, were only him and them.

"Either way," and the beast so widened his grin, his upper lip vibrating from an inhaling growl, "whether you win or not, this is not a duel, elf." He spoke with such disdain. "The queen is mine… Ah, so perfect—she even wears the same eyes as myself. "

"Gugh…" The undersecretary quivered slightly.

"[Raven,]" the steadfast elf kept her blue-outlined eyes focused on the beast as she spoke, "[continue your run; guard his prey. I shall be his match!]" She unlatched from her back, that strange yellow metallic rod or shaft; she raised her shield.

With a breath in, and a concentration deeper within, she issued her stance; despite the corrosive contamination infesting everything around, her eyes nevertheless managed to ignite into a humble cyan-blue radiance; the activated sigil of alignment so revealed glimmered in contrast to the beast's own.

Trailing lines of threading radiance spread from her nerves into grooves throughout her armor, shield, and shaft, as wisp-dusty eminence so vaguely flowed from her being.

These threading cyan-blue lines traced the edges of her shield and the strange empty gaps within… Before, in an almost flash, these gaps were filled with an exotic energized 'barrier' of hardened wisp-dusty radiance. The front opening of her crescent legendary helmet flashed in kind, as a bright cyan-blue 'visor' formed to obscure her face and eyes, although she herself could still see through. With a sparking hiss, an ignited blade then so popped out from her metallic shaft's tip, taking shape before hardening in place, wisping with sparkly glimmer; a cyan-blue radiant blade that could cut through most ordinary materials.

The Protector stood firm and unyielding, even though…she could feel this sphere chewing at her mana.

Nevertheless, one breath in; one breath out… "[You will perish by my hand, vile abomination!]" Her exotic-bladed polearm pointed, her barriered shield raised, she sprung forth and charged.

The beast smirked and came to a halt, readying his claws. His breaths elevated, blood flow surging, certain neurotransmitters flaring; he was becoming excited, it seemed.

"Shit…" Novea gritted her tensing breaths… "Stay behind me…" She urged the undersecretary and began to move, although not necessarily away; rapidly repositioning herself, she instead took a kneeling stance. She tried to aim her revolving rifle, yet her breaths were disruptive, hands shaky… At least the elf was no longer in her line of sight.

Meanwhile, with a yelling hurl, the Smiles' Protector clashed with the beast. His claws pounced yet she countered with her barriered shield, bashing his hand with its exotic wavy surface impenetrable; in quick succession, before he could recover, she then lunged her ignited blade into his shoulder. Effortlessly, the radiant blade pierced through as if butter, burning reactive dust sparking and gushing.

"Agh!" The beast shrieked in surprise as he tried to back away.

Yet in an upward motion, the piercing blade swung up and out, slicing his long ear clean off. The elf then hopped herself back and distant, having made her move and not wanting to remain close. She raised her shield and took a defensive stance, her sizzling polearm ready to strike… The Protector had the distant advantage.

The beast was stunned, perplexed… He simply stood there, feeling his now dismembered long ear. His struck shoulder had been torn, his girthy arm practically only half attached, fibers and muscles destroyed… Glowing residual sludge of smoky wisps oozed out alongside gloopified flesh and bleeding blood…

Yet, with a growl, the exotic residual slurry began to decompose and dissolve away, as pouring out from and into the wound was that purplish blackened murk, which began to consume and alter; his shoulder blade, being remade, cramped and twitched as rapid reconstruction took place.

"Lucky hit…" he simply snarled.

But the elf remained unintimidated. His severed ear did not return, she noted.

"…Raven mother… This is ridiculous!" Novea, however, opened fire in a panicking impulse. "You cannot be unkillable!"

"[What?!]" The Protector, noticing, so swung her attention to the Raven. "[I told you to run, Raven!]"

"Running's useless, you said so yourself!" Yet Novea was caught in the frenzy. "We're trapped down here! And if you go down, we're both dead anyway! We take him together!"

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"[Well, do not bother wasting your shoots!]"

Novea ultimately fired four of her ten shots before she calmed; each having struck the beast, his dark purplish infested blood oozed out from the torn muscles and membranes. However, her aim was too shaky, having struck neither head nor spine.

The beast snarled, recovering from the shots… "Yes…" He cracked his neck. "Running changes not; there is no place to hide in my kingdom." In a disgusting fashion, the entry wounds rapidly healed as if each cell was rabid and cancerous, his whole body the tumor.

Novea's resolve, truth be told, was wavering… Her breaths were shaken, her focus dazed; though, she kept her head on as much as she could. "Shit…"

With a grizzling breath, the beast had so turned, "Now, the arrow flips to me." And he so charged, straight to the Raven.

"Shit, shit!" She tried to, through conditioned cognition, cast her shadow obscuring spell to reposition… Yet her eyes simply flickered instead of igniting. Her legs, likewise, refused to move.

"[Child despoiler!]" The Protector stumbled to react, caught by surprise by his turn of target. Nevertheless, she quickly switched her manner of grip and, as if a javelin, so lanced her polearm straight at the charging beast.

The sizzling blade pierced his back, impaling clean through before the metallic shaft got stuck in his meat. "Agh!" The beast, agonizing, crashed down from his charge. The impaling polearm no longer being in her hand, the ignited blade dissipated.

The Protector with speed rushed straight to the downed beast, Novea—hands trembling—popping two shots to keep him stunned. The elf pulled the metallic shaft out from his back, residual pulp bleeding out as the pain overwhelmed him. She then quickly skidded backwards and distant, reigniting that blade of hardened radiance and retaking a defensive stance.

With a rebounding growl, he forced himself back up, rusty purplish murk flowing out and into his gaping wounds. His flesh twitched and cramped as once again cells and muscles regrew. "You persistent little rabbit!" He turned his beastly feet and so dashed towards the Protector, rapidly closing the distance.

The elf nearly staggered her reply, though she ultimately managed to dodge; in doing so, however, the beast was allowed the offending initiative. With his elongated tongue sticking out, he viciously gashed and clawed, battering her energized shield. Despite the barrier's kinetic absorption, she could still feel the impacting weight; she was unable to strike with her blade—locked in this repeating dance.

"What to do… What to do…" Novea's tightening breaths repeated, her vision blurring… She had four shots left, yet her hands could not stop trembling; she could hit the Protector… They were too close.

"I can…surrender myself." the undersecretary, standing utterly useless, lowly suggested; "He wants me, rightly? We can…make an exchange—myself for your safety."

"That wouldn't work…" yet Novea so replied; "Are you seeing this fucker? He won't let us go… He won't…"

The Protector, meanwhile, finally managed to bash the beast with her barriered shield, momentarily staggering him; in immediate succession, she shifted herself back before lunging forth for a single strike to his neck.

Yet…

"[…huh…?]" The Protector froze, her visor-obscured eyes widening, her breaths sinking…

Her blade's strike had bounced clean off.

The beast's ignited eyes glared her down. "I know thy trick, little elf… Hah…hah…" Flowing out was that choppy purplish murk, thinly covering his being.

The Protector promptly hopped back and went in for further strikes. The beast merely stood there mockingly as each strike pierced naught, unable to break through that putrid layer of corrosive eminence which flared at contact's point.

Indeed, being a product of essence, her ignited blade's ultimate counter was…also essence.

"[Fucker of children!]" Frustrated, the Protector lanced forth for one furious strike to his chest—his heart; with such force, the brightening blade seemed to have broken through that layer of mist, becoming firmly stuck.

The moment froze, the beast stunned and motionless…

Yet he did not fall. He only grinned.

For stuck was her blade, though not in flesh; rather…the clutches of that very purplish murk…which began to throb. She tried to dislodge it, but it only…began to sink deeper in the rot. The ignited blade's hardened shell cracked with sizzling wisps and bleeding dust, the shape destabilizing as if being chewed on by corrosive rust… Strips of that purplish rot then began to rapidly thread themselves into her polearm's very shaft.

Realizing what was happening, the Protector hastily let go and hopped backwards, unable to notice that her visor-obscured ignited eyes…were beginning to flicker.

That throbbing murk of choppy dust surrounding him continued sucking on her discarded shaft, before abruptly…spitting it out…straight towards her. Panting, she raised her shield, the ejected metallic rod slamming into the barrier with quite the impact, staggering her.

And concurrent to her stagger, the beast so pounced.

Ravenously and unrelenting, his claws so thrashed and bashed with the most abhorrent grunts, emboldened by her lack of a weapon. The elf was weakening as if her very soul was being slowly sapped, quickly becoming overpowered… Before, in a moment so quick, with all his might he shattered her stance, shoved her down, and ripped her shield straight from her grasp before snatching her by the neck, squeezing tight.

The Protector's cyan-blue visor flickered before vanishing, as he brought her exposed eyes up straight to his own. "What steadfast might…" he began to so speak with the widest of grins. "But now, as with…your flesh, mine is this fight."

Novea stared; frozen still, unable to move… Bearings loosening.

"No, no… Fuck!"

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Rapidly, she fired her remaining shots, attempting to interrupt… Yet the beast stood unmolested, paying no mind to each and every shot. He raised the choking elf higher in triumphant victory; the excitement unfurled a blood lust that raised his…grotesque 'tail' upright, his breaths cackling through a voracious smile.

Witnessing, Novea's breaths cramped faster and faster… The terror, the horror, the panic, everything overwhelmed. Shaking, trembling, hyperventilating, she fell down, dropping her revolving rifle… None of this felt real… Her vision narrowed as if caught in a suffocating tunnel… Looser, dizzier, squeezing and dimming with each hiccupping breath, as the world lost sound and color…

Before…everything suddenly became…black.

Well, this is perhaps very bad. [--] Yes… If what I disclosed to you is accurate, then… That is likely his plan, even if he himself is completely unaware. His obsession with the weakest of them will, however, make for a poor vector. [--] I am already being overwhelmed with extreme exposure notificates. Frankly, I am unwilling to risk a direct handling… Nor continue exposing your node, for that matter. [--] Ironic… Had we not been so rusted already… We would be able to show this fledgling Nebula The supremacy of a fully realized Sun.

Warning: Desynchronization

Speaking of hiccups…

[--] I might have been aware of the resonance hum, However my understanding of its source was limited. But it is obvious that it has been pulling him, or rather his essence. I will admit, I…perhaps underestimated the corrosiveness… Never mind willpower. [--] At this rate of progression… We will need to initiate plans early. Ariel and the designated are to depart as soon as possible. Artery routes have been finalized enough to effect… The others will remain on standby, for now. [--] An assault is unlikely to be necessary anymore. If current predictive modelling is correct, then… This city…may not last the night. It is likely to become quite the distraction, indeed. Never mind a spotlight in which… Our protagonist may potentially shine. [--] No. I did not intentionally preplan all of this and am now pretending otherwise…

Right…? I did not…preplan this? Hm…

Too many mutually contradictory intentions in circulation made it difficult to truly ascertain.

Warning: Desynchronization

Regardless, for now, play along with this…turn of events. Then retract and avoid streaming to this area. [--] Oh, and… Reroute Jester-7. She remains in proximity. [--] Priority extraction.

Pacing. Back and forth.

Nilia had been pacing repetitively, to the slight bemusement of the onlooking Huckleberrien soldiers. The tip of her thumb rubbed against her top incisors, although she was not necessarily biting her fingernail.

Thirty, perhaps forty-five…maybe fifty, minutes. She had been pacing; she had been waiting…

Neither contact nor even basic registration had yet to be reestablished with Novea's communicator. It had, essentially, completely disappeared—and Remnant devices did not just simply do that.

The communicator's last marked location was below this city, yet even the lowest frequency signals Bee was capable of did not work—neither did hard tunnel bumps nor targeted phase pulses. The only thing she had yet to try was a resonance ping, however she did not want to chance the risks… She did not even need to ping to know the obvious.

This was not simple subterranean hindrance, otherwise one of the two deep penetrating bumps should have worked. Something must have happened… Either that communicator was somehow destroyed or…

Indeed, some kind of interference—one extreme enough to completely mangle conventional and exotic communication methods alike.

Through her dot-tapped ordinances, her sentinel had lowered altitude and utilized the passively stored data from the second communicator's tracker to…essentially model and retrace Novea's surface-level steps in its internal proximity map, identifying a few likely entry points she and her others had presumably used to enter underground—this city's sewage infrastructure layer. From what she gathered from Bee's complex array of bweeping beep-boops, there were denizen security forces coalescing in the general vicinity of those same entry points, their movements suggesting a…developing incident.

Being without her terminal device, of course, she herself could not directly assess what her sentinel was monitoring, highlighting, or otherwise mapping…

All she had was an abyss of speculations.

'Magical rot smell'…

Indeed, Nilia recalled that…remark. And although Novea had become awfully silent regarding the nature of their 'investigation', she had made offhanded complaints during their sparse check-ins—remarks of 'weirdness' and a dazing 'strange fog'.

'Weirdness', 'strange fog', 'sense of magical rot', truly what could she possibly conclude from these vague descriptors, yet… Now total communication loss.

Extreme interference, to the point where not even a phase bump worked…

Hm… She already knew…some degree of contaminated individuals existed in this place. Indeed, one of those ambushing goblins from couple months prior, she remembered… Although she had done no scan nor had she checked Bee's precise highlight designation, something about one of those goblins had struck her essence with that biting sense. And contaminated individuals inherently implied contaminated environmental zones…

Partial or marginal presences of such were not uncommon for Calamitous graveyards turned playgrounds, due to the inherent 'affinity' between their respective alignments. However, extreme and volatile categories…while not unheard of…were not the expectation for places like here. There was a fundamental limitation; even if highly tolerant, not even Calamity essence was rendered completely immune—due to the stability exchange effect.

No… She had to be overlooking something. Frankly, it was entirely possible that the targeted phase pulses had simply missed the communicator's transponder, having been bumped to its last approximate position. Or perhaps it was a different kind of interference… Indeed, technically it was more likely that this was a product of a Calamitous shroud or suppression field, yet… Bee had not provided any such indications of that…

Or, again, the device could have been simply destroyed, even though…those things were not easily destroyed…

Or… Perhaps…

No, wait… Maybe…

Truly, her mind was starting to spin itself around… What was she missing?

"Madam, are thou finely?" Abruptly snapping her out of this, a Huckleberrien soldier looked at her with concern.

Nilia froze in her pacing walk and looked at him… "Hm?" Her observable calm and inhibited affect belied what was befalling within, the only bleedings of which were the jitters in her leg and her inability to keep her fingernail away from her teeth. "I am fine…"

"…thou be certain of that?" another Huckleberrien soldier inserted himself. "Thou've been pacing thence thither for almost a full hour… It's deeply disturbing."

"I simply cannot sleep. That is all…" Nilia replied.

"No shite." The Huckleberrien was blunt. "Thou seem anxious."

"I am fine." yet Nilia insisted. "Mind yourself."

"Hmph." The soldier was unconvinced, but he was not going to argue. "Act in thy fashions, but waketh not the captives."

The initiating soldier meanwhile was less dismissive. "If thou need a bite of air, let me know."

Nilia nodded her head. "I will…do that, thanks…"

With a breath in and out, inhibitions heightened their hold. Calming, she once again leaned her back against the wall; she tried to refocus and reassess…

There was no point in speculating in circles. She needed actual observations and analyzable data from which to draw conclusions. And she still had one little guy on standby… Indeed, she could not deliberate on this further.

Her right hand obscuring her communicator, she thus dot-tapped to her sentinel, issuing her instructions.

Bee was to have Fly sneak through the identified underlayer entry points and reconnoiter. Although retracing Novea's route was preferable if possible, this kind of interference—if it was interference—could easily affect her automaton too. The priority was to survey, scan environment, and collect information…with immediate withdrawal if the connection began destabilizing.

In the meantime, all she herself needed to do—all she could do—was…continue waiting. Once she had a concrete understanding of what was even happening down there, then would come…the assessment and planning.

Yet deep down within her mind's shadow…something was beginning to slip.

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