*********************
Emmet "Bonfire" Knox
Heat scours across my form, the blue joining black, but I pay no attention to my burning flesh. She's in front of me, the one who killed Woody. And now that I look back, Cigar's death was suspicious as well. The chances of him getting hit through all his smoke are slim, incredibly slim.
This bitch got him killed.
More and more Ether is spent, heightening the heat of my flames as they use my very flesh for fuel.
Darkstep raises her hands, shouting for aid as shadows emerge to strike at me, but I ignore them. More Ether flows into my body, Combustion growing ever higher. A puppet of hers gets close and stabs its blade into my arm, but it melts upon entering my flesh.
Sneering at the puppet, I wrench my arm up. The blood from inside me splatters onto his head, boiling upon his skin. My Sigil and Volcanized only protect my body and the things inside it. Even still, they have a limit, and that limit is between yellow and white flames. These blue ones hurt. They hurt a lot.
But I don't care.
I'm healthy this time, starting the battle full of vigor and one extra bonus. I'm no 5th Sigiled anymore. I'm a Pyrekin, burning for all to see. And my 6th Sigiled gave me a simple yet effective skill. It is one I have waited for my whole life.
Fireskin.
The topmost layer of my body turns into flame as I inundate it with Ether and Blaze, turning me into an actual inferno and not just a burning man. Then, as more and more puppets, Motherbound, and even Darkstep herself come to kill me, I move for them, heightening Blaze all the way.
The blue fire burns brighter and brighter. I can feel the luminance rise just as my anger does. The old days from Blackreach, the times when we first started out getting Sigils, then finally our days on the road and having fun. We all knew we'd die someday, barely riding the line of Outlaws and Hunters with our foolishness. Once Orange died and his silver tongue disappeared, we got into more trouble.
Their faces flash past me, Speedy's flashy smile, Orange's jokester's laugh, Cigar's smoky smirk, and Woody's grateful grin. Clumsy and Frozen are still alive, but for how long? Pa was right, in a way. I burn down everything I touch.
My teeth grit as I stamp toward Darkstep, the building below me melting from my heat as I push Blaze further, my rage and emotions fueling it all. My flames' color begins to flicker, a sign of a change coming. I don't care.
The Cabin did say a long time ago that my rage fuels my fire. Perhaps I should not have hidden it this long.
And so I don't.
I let it all out from when Pa used to beat me for Ma leaving him to the struggles of surviving alone on the streets. I take the beatings of the other homeless kids and use them as fuel. I rip away my sleepless and starving nights, turning them into more meat for my conflagration. The heat only grows as the smell of cooking flesh enters my nose before the sense is removed entirely.
And finally, I think back to the kid, barely a year older than my six winters, who pulled me from a bundle of trash.
"Hey! You okay? You look like you could use some food! Names Jon, but my friends call me Woody. What's your name?"
Another flash comes, from after I got my first Sigil and used it to save Woody's life. At that time, I was only eighteen. A huge fight with some rivals exploded into a death match, and I was the reason we won, despite being the lowest in Sigil. All my friends, from Speedy to Frozen, were older and got Sigils before me. In Blackreach, the poor fight constantly without remorse, so Sigils go back and forth quite often.
Yet I was the deciding factor in this one, despite being the weakest. I pledged that I would burn any who hurt them as I saw their bleeding and dying bodies. Thankfully, even as a Scholar, I could manage simple heat skills. They just... came to me, so I could seal their wounds with flame. And I've never once broken that promise about revenge, even a decade later. Not for Speedy. Not for Orange. And I will not fail Cigar or Woody.
I do as promised, turning it all to fire and ash.
A heartbeat fills me with purpose, and I prepare to blast the boiling liquid from within me forward to slay the Manipulator. Yet, before I raise my arm and remove Darkstep from this world, my fire flickering to a glorious violet, the color of the setting sun, my vision changes, and a familiar wood surrounds me. Dammit!
I step forward angrily in The Cabin and rip open the tome. I don't need to read it. I know enough about my fire. There is nothing else it can give me that I would need. All I need is my flames.
Not even glancing at the indecipherable words that yield answers even to my illiterate brain, I place my hand upon my Sigil, a constantly shifting inferno.
I've unfailingly been underestimated. All my life, no one wanted me. No one cared for me other than those boys who ripped me from the trash. I don't need the approval of some God. I don't need to struggle against the Mother Below. Hell, I don't even need to fight alongside Johnny.
My Absolution comes from no one else but myself. I don't need to read it. I do all this because there is nothing else to do. We game with cards, we drink booze at night, and we fight when we must. What better life is there? Yet... this bitch took two of them from me.
My fist tightens on the Sigil as a small pitter of flame originates from my flesh, sealing the deal.
And the next thing I know, I am back on the rooftop, a shout of horror coming from in front of me as my hearing fully returns. It seems my fire isn't affecting it anymore.
"What the hell!? W-what are you!? Wha!? Get him!"
All the puppets around, the Motherbound forcibly put into Darkstep's servitude, rush me as she attempts to escape. I twist toward one and swing my arm toward them, eliciting a Firewhip made of Blaze, but as I do, I notice something extraordinary.
My arm is see-through.
And I can see through my own fire.
A creeping grin twists onto my face as I feel my whole body lighten. The puppet's blade goes right through my flames harmlessly and melts as it passes through me. Stepping forward, I wrap the whip around his body with one arm and grapple him with the other.
Then, I push him into the air, and the action is surprisingly difficult compared to usual, even with Furious Surge. Whatever is happening must make it hard to move things. Makes sense. I'm literally a living bonfire now.
But no matter.
Kiln spikes as heat covers my entire hand, the man's skull and throat cooking in a split second, the violet flames wafting off his flesh. Next, I tighten my grip, and using Propulsion, I shunt him toward another puppet from a blast of blaze beside him.
That Marionetted person slams into another one, alighting them as well. I ignore the other coming ones now that I know their weapons go directly through me. I'm invincible! Probably. I'm sure Abraham could still figure out a way to hurt me.
Propulsion explodes a blast of heat beneath my feet as I shuttle toward Darkstep, the woman sprinting away as fast as she can. And she's fast. Really fast, in fact. Her form shifts and move erratically as I let loose Firebolts, tiny vessels of heat erupting from my body. They are much easier to use now that my whole body is blazing and now that I don't have to slowly build it up.
Distance erupts between my friends and me, but I have to get her. I have to. She needs to die. This bitch...
She will be crispy before this sun sets.
***************
Abraham Ulren
Watching Bonfire become a literal living pyre and nearly fly away after Darkstep, I almost think I'm under an illusion. But I'm not. I can feel those violet flames left over on the roof as they melt their way down the stone building.
Dismissing it all, I turn to help Frozen and Clumsy.
As I face the unfeeling horde of dozens of Motherbound, their puppet-like movements send shivers down my spine. I command my Nightmares, Cirn and Mislo, by my side. Cirn, armed with a mighty greatsword, and Mislo, a skilled archer with a deadly bow, are the first to partake in the battle. I'm running out of time to keep them active; the limit on the skill is approaching, and soon I'll have to swap them out for someone else like Malew. But for now, they'll do the job, especially if I join them.
With my trusty revolver in one hand and a swift scimitar in the other, I confront the enemy, shooting them from afar and taking point if any of the Motherbound get too close. Dark tendrils of light seep from their flesh, threatening to overpower me. But I am not alone in this fight. Frozen, gifted in the art of ice and cold, conjures frost to freeze our adversaries while Clumsy douses the ground with a slippery, highly flammable liquid. Together, this slows and harries the Motherbound even to buy Mislo time to release her terrible arrows and for my bullets to make their marks.
The two of them have also recently increased their Sigils, and Frozen makes even larger sections of ice than usual, with many of them forceful enough to deal severe damage to even a Dreadmarked. Meanwhile, Clumsy focuses the stream of his Grease and cuts a Taintwrought across the chest with the high pressure, keeping it at bay.
Together, we form a formidable force, weaving through the Motherbound, even while backed against a building melting from the top down. Cirn's blade cleaves through the opposition, while Mislo's arrows find their marks with deadly accuracy. I unleash bullets and swift slashes carefully, relying on the Nightmares' fearsome powers to turn the tide in our favor.
The clash of steel, the crackle of ice, and the hiss of seething liquid fill the air. Slowly, the Motherbound as a whole get closer, for they are not Sigilless. They have their own unique traits, from poison to literal explosions. These do come from Marshall's soldiers, after all. Some of the best of the best.
Pivoting, I glance at the building to our left, blocking our movement away. It really doesn't help that Bent is so close-quartered. The best places to fight are the fort's walls and innards. These buildings in the center for shops and residences make it hard to defend. Though, I suppose they are needed.
I concentrate my mind for a second, preparing a potent Force before blasting a hole into the bricks behind me, accurately finding a faulty one and pushing my way through.
"Follow me!"
Clumsy and Frozen join me as Mislo retreats with us while I have Cirn block the hole in the wall. He'll last there for a little bit, but we should regroup with Virgil. Those wires are dangerous for us, but without Bonfire to break through them like he did, these Motherbound will have just as much difficulty as us. As long as we--
A rumbling explosion shakes the whole fortress before they start occurring every half-second like the beat of a heart. What? What the hell is that?
No. I need to stay on task. Kill these things, find Bonfire, then move from there. Based on what I've seen so far, Bent is likely to fall. If Marshall can somehow pull this off, I'll follow him the rest of my life, but I doubt he will. The demons and Pygmies outnumber our Angels six to one. Well... four to one, counting Tomas, who ascended a few minutes ago.
Kicking my legs through the building and sliding over a table, I do the same thing on the next wall with Force and enter an alley. Then, I follow it into the street as I find Virgil's group fighting. However, there are far more issues than before.
Kaien lies dead, a fist-sized hole in her head that smokes like it was hit by Earl's Coil, while Virgil holds her aloft, his dagger in her heart. Primrose is also holding onto the Angel, keeping her from fighting back. But... while that's good and all, another threat is here.
A horde of lesser demons, beasts, and even Pygmies charge at us from afar, at most a minute away, while an Angelic demon leads their charge. Sighing and spitting out a bit of blood from getting hit earlier, I force myself to catch up, Alluding Virgil.
"We need to go. Right now. This shit is getting insane."
Virgil glances at me, then forward at the horde and what likely lies beyond it.
"Can't. Wyatt, Marshall, Millie, and Tomas are over there. I won't leave them. Plus, my family is evacuating. We need to buy the slow ones some time before we escape."
I can't help but scoff. Family this and family that. Fuck. Ah! We need to go! Why don't they just listen?
My nails scratch my scalp as they do when I awake from a nightmare. Dammit, dammit, dammit!
Override fills my mind as I seek a solution, slowing my perception of time—any answer to this conundrum.
Come on, Abraham, think! You're no Earl, but you've got a thousand times the seconds to think than him. Come up with something!
We can't hold a line here. All those creatures will overrun us in a moment without Bonfire or Johnny. Those two are the best at battles with hordes—well... and Blake.
Her recent advancements have been insane. It's nuts, from controlling simple ghosts to reviving a hundred undead at once to fight for her. Sure, most of her undead have no Sigil or only one, as she can't really control who she takes, but that's enough.
That means we need her, right? Who is she with? Silas and Lennox, right? Well, where are they right now? Sleeping? Yeah. It's their off-duty, if I remember correctly.
Daymare can only pull one, and that one should be Blake. Johnny would be a good pick, but that'd reduce the Angels from three to two over there. And Johnny's ability to heal with Glitch is irreplaceable.
Okay, okay, okay. I need to Daymare Blake. She should be asleep right now, but I doubt she actually is. That means... I need to get her to fall asleep. Fuck. Okay. Okay. I can do that.
I just need to find her.
Ether fills my mind as I compel Allude past anything I've ever done before, surpassing its normal range and going far beyond it. I can feel the bloody nose already leaking, but I need to do this. Yet, I don't sense her even at twice the normal range, roughly two thousand feet.
Fuck. Need to do more.
Dammit!
Blood vessels pop in this slowed time, the damage excruciatingly obvious. But I force it further. I need to reach her. More and more Ether fills the skill as I imbue it with all the Willful Strand I can, expanding the skill far beyond the measly ten feet it was years ago. Bits of my mind seem to split as I force myself beyond my limits.
2.5 thousand feet.
3 thousand feet.
3.5 thousand feet.
4 thousand feet.
4.5 thousand feet.
5 thousand feet.
A mile.
I reach my limit at the mile, yet, I don't find her. Instead, I only find Silas, his mind at the edge of my range. They must be guarding the evacuation. He better be able to locate Blake. It's a gamble.
But... Earl's only a few feet from me.
I'm doing it.
Squeezing all the might I can out of my mind, I sent Silas a message using Allude across an entire mile. How Leviathan can reach thousands of miles is unfathomable.
"Find Blake! Have her fall asleep! We need her, and I can only Daymare the sleeping!"
Hastily, I cut off the connection without waiting for a reply, my mind practically melting from the exertion. Then, I nearly collapse to the floor as I yell to Virgil. Frozen grabs me by the armpit and maintains our pace away from the Motherbound as we regroup with Virgil, Skyswain, Primrose, and Earl.
"Hold this area! I sent for help! Blake should be here in less than a minute! And Motherbound my way!"
Virgil glances toward me, believing my hopeful lie as he starts ordering us all, choosing those best for certain things as we are trapped. One side is a horde of Motherbound, and the other possesses a horde of demons led by a fully healthy Angel.
"Okay! Abraham, Earl, and Skyswain! You're on the Motherbound! Primrose, Clumsy, and Frozen! You slow the horde! Earl, do you have any bombs!?"
The boy-genius nods, reaching into a pack and pulling out a hand-sized bundle of something I've never seen before.
"Yeah! This is---"
Virgil doesn't wait for an explanation as the hordes tighten the gaps, taking what I can only assume is explosives knowing Earl. Cirn's Nightmare shatters as well, leaving me woozy as I grasp for another.
"Good. I'll slow the Angel."
The man fades into shadow, his body Flickering into the stone below as he shouts us into action.
"What are you waiting for!? Go!"
*********************
Emmet "Bonfire" Knox
Heat scours across my form, the blue joining black, but I pay no attention to my burning flesh. She's in front of me, the one who killed Woody. And now that I look back, Cigar's death was suspicious as well. The chances of him getting hit through all his smoke are slim, incredibly slim.
This bitch got him killed.
More and more Ether is spent, heightening the heat of my flames as they use my very flesh for fuel.
Darkstep raises her hands, shouting for aid as shadows emerge to strike at me, but I ignore them. More Ether flows into my body, Combustion growing ever higher. A puppet of hers gets close and stabs its blade into my arm, but it melts upon entering my flesh.
Sneering at the puppet, I wrench my arm up. The blood from inside me splatters onto his head, boiling upon his skin. My Sigil and Volcanized only protect my body and the things inside it. Even still, they have a limit, and that limit is between yellow and white flames. These blue ones hurt. They hurt a lot.
But I don't care.
I'm healthy this time, starting the battle full of vigor and one extra bonus. I'm no 5th Sigiled anymore. I'm a Pyrekin, burning for all to see. And my 6th Sigiled gave me a simple yet effective skill. It is one I have waited for my whole life.
Fireskin.
The topmost layer of my body turns into flame as I inundate it with Ether and Blaze, turning me into an actual inferno and not just a burning man. Then, as more and more puppets, Motherbound, and even Darkstep herself come to kill me, I move for them, heightening Blaze all the way.
The blue fire burns brighter and brighter. I can feel the luminance rise just as my anger does. The old days from Blackreach, the times when we first started out getting Sigils, then finally our days on the road and having fun. We all knew we'd die someday, barely riding the line of Outlaws and Hunters with our foolishness. Once Orange died and his silver tongue disappeared, we got into more trouble.
Their faces flash past me, Speedy's flashy smile, Orange's jokester's laugh, Cigar's smoky smirk, and Woody's grateful grin. Clumsy and Frozen are still alive, but for how long? Pa was right, in a way. I burn down everything I touch.
My teeth grit as I stamp toward Darkstep, the building below me melting from my heat as I push Blaze further, my rage and emotions fueling it all. My flames' color begins to flicker, a sign of a change coming. I don't care.
The Cabin did say a long time ago that my rage fuels my fire. Perhaps I should not have hidden it this long.
And so I don't.
I let it all out from when Pa used to beat me for Ma leaving him to the struggles of surviving alone on the streets. I take the beatings of the other homeless kids and use them as fuel. I rip away my sleepless and starving nights, turning them into more meat for my conflagration. The heat only grows as the smell of cooking flesh enters my nose before the sense is removed entirely.
And finally, I think back to the kid, barely a year older than my six winters, who pulled me from a bundle of trash.
"Hey! You okay? You look like you could use some food! Names Jon, but my friends call me Woody. What's your name?"
Another flash comes, from after I got my first Sigil and used it to save Woody's life. At that time, I was only eighteen. A huge fight with some rivals exploded into a death match, and I was the reason we won, despite being the lowest in Sigil. All my friends, from Speedy to Frozen, were older and got Sigils before me. In Blackreach, the poor fight constantly without remorse, so Sigils go back and forth quite often.
Yet I was the deciding factor in this one, despite being the weakest. I pledged that I would burn any who hurt them as I saw their bleeding and dying bodies. Thankfully, even as a Scholar, I could manage simple heat skills. They just... came to me, so I could seal their wounds with flame. And I've never once broken that promise about revenge, even a decade later. Not for Speedy. Not for Orange. And I will not fail Cigar or Woody.
I do as promised, turning it all to fire and ash.
A heartbeat fills me with purpose, and I prepare to blast the boiling liquid from within me forward to slay the Manipulator. Yet, before I raise my arm and remove Darkstep from this world, my fire flickering to a glorious violet, the color of the setting sun, my vision changes, and a familiar wood surrounds me. Dammit!
I step forward angrily in The Cabin and rip open the tome. I don't need to read it. I know enough about my fire. There is nothing else it can give me that I would need. All I need is my flames.
Not even glancing at the indecipherable words that yield answers even to my illiterate brain, I place my hand upon my Sigil, a constantly shifting inferno.
I've unfailingly been underestimated. All my life, no one wanted me. No one cared for me other than those boys who ripped me from the trash. I don't need the approval of some God. I don't need to struggle against the Mother Below. Hell, I don't even need to fight alongside Johnny.
My Absolution comes from no one else but myself. I don't need to read it. I do all this because there is nothing else to do. We game with cards, we drink booze at night, and we fight when we must. What better life is there? Yet... this bitch took two of them from me.
My fist tightens on the Sigil as a small pitter of flame originates from my flesh, sealing the deal.
And the next thing I know, I am back on the rooftop, a shout of horror coming from in front of me as my hearing fully returns. It seems my fire isn't affecting it anymore.
"What the hell!? W-what are you!? Wha!? Get him!"
All the puppets around, the Motherbound forcibly put into Darkstep's servitude, rush me as she attempts to escape. I twist toward one and swing my arm toward them, eliciting a Firewhip made of Blaze, but as I do, I notice something extraordinary.
My arm is see-through.
And I can see through my own fire.
A creeping grin twists onto my face as I feel my whole body lighten. The puppet's blade goes right through my flames harmlessly and melts as it passes through me. Stepping forward, I wrap the whip around his body with one arm and grapple him with the other.
Then, I push him into the air, and the action is surprisingly difficult compared to usual, even with Furious Surge. Whatever is happening must make it hard to move things. Makes sense. I'm literally a living bonfire now.
But no matter.
Kiln spikes as heat covers my entire hand, the man's skull and throat cooking in a split second, the violet flames wafting off his flesh. Next, I tighten my grip, and using Propulsion, I shunt him toward another puppet from a blast of blaze beside him.
That Marionetted person slams into another one, alighting them as well. I ignore the other coming ones now that I know their weapons go directly through me. I'm invincible! Probably. I'm sure Abraham could still figure out a way to hurt me.
Propulsion explodes a blast of heat beneath my feet as I shuttle toward Darkstep, the woman sprinting away as fast as she can. And she's fast. Really fast, in fact. Her form shifts and move erratically as I let loose Firebolts, tiny vessels of heat erupting from my body. They are much easier to use now that my whole body is blazing and now that I don't have to slowly build it up.
Distance erupts between my friends and me, but I have to get her. I have to. She needs to die. This bitch...
She will be crispy before this sun sets.
***************
Abraham Ulren
Watching Bonfire become a literal living pyre and nearly fly away after Darkstep, I almost think I'm under an illusion. But I'm not. I can feel those violet flames left over on the roof as they melt their way down the stone building.
Dismissing it all, I turn to help Frozen and Clumsy.
As I face the unfeeling horde of dozens of Motherbound, their puppet-like movements send shivers down my spine. I command my Nightmares, Cirn and Mislo, by my side. Cirn, armed with a mighty greatsword, and Mislo, a skilled archer with a deadly bow, are the first to partake in the battle. I'm running out of time to keep them active; the limit on the skill is approaching, and soon I'll have to swap them out for someone else like Malew. But for now, they'll do the job, especially if I join them.
With my trusty revolver in one hand and a swift scimitar in the other, I confront the enemy, shooting them from afar and taking point if any of the Motherbound get too close. Dark tendrils of light seep from their flesh, threatening to overpower me. But I am not alone in this fight. Frozen, gifted in the art of ice and cold, conjures frost to freeze our adversaries while Clumsy douses the ground with a slippery, highly flammable liquid. Together, this slows and harries the Motherbound even to buy Mislo time to release her terrible arrows and for my bullets to make their marks.
The two of them have also recently increased their Sigils, and Frozen makes even larger sections of ice than usual, with many of them forceful enough to deal severe damage to even a Dreadmarked. Meanwhile, Clumsy focuses the stream of his Grease and cuts a Taintwrought across the chest with the high pressure, keeping it at bay.
Together, we form a formidable force, weaving through the Motherbound, even while backed against a building melting from the top down. Cirn's blade cleaves through the opposition, while Mislo's arrows find their marks with deadly accuracy. I unleash bullets and swift slashes carefully, relying on the Nightmares' fearsome powers to turn the tide in our favor.
The clash of steel, the crackle of ice, and the hiss of seething liquid fill the air. Slowly, the Motherbound as a whole get closer, for they are not Sigilless. They have their own unique traits, from poison to literal explosions. These do come from Marshall's soldiers, after all. Some of the best of the best.
Pivoting, I glance at the building to our left, blocking our movement away. It really doesn't help that Bent is so close-quartered. The best places to fight are the fort's walls and innards. These buildings in the center for shops and residences make it hard to defend. Though, I suppose they are needed.
I concentrate my mind for a second, preparing a potent Force before blasting a hole into the bricks behind me, accurately finding a faulty one and pushing my way through.
"Follow me!"
Clumsy and Frozen join me as Mislo retreats with us while I have Cirn block the hole in the wall. He'll last there for a little bit, but we should regroup with Virgil. Those wires are dangerous for us, but without Bonfire to break through them like he did, these Motherbound will have just as much difficulty as us. As long as we--
A rumbling explosion shakes the whole fortress before they start occurring every half-second like the beat of a heart. What? What the hell is that?
No. I need to stay on task. Kill these things, find Bonfire, then move from there. Based on what I've seen so far, Bent is likely to fall. If Marshall can somehow pull this off, I'll follow him the rest of my life, but I doubt he will. The demons and Pygmies outnumber our Angels six to one. Well... four to one, counting Tomas, who ascended a few minutes ago.
Kicking my legs through the building and sliding over a table, I do the same thing on the next wall with Force and enter an alley. Then, I follow it into the street as I find Virgil's group fighting. However, there are far more issues than before.
Kaien lies dead, a fist-sized hole in her head that smokes like it was hit by Earl's Coil, while Virgil holds her aloft, his dagger in her heart. Primrose is also holding onto the Angel, keeping her from fighting back. But... while that's good and all, another threat is here.
A horde of lesser demons, beasts, and even Pygmies charge at us from afar, at most a minute away, while an Angelic demon leads their charge. Sighing and spitting out a bit of blood from getting hit earlier, I force myself to catch up, Alluding Virgil.
"We need to go. Right now. This shit is getting insane."
Virgil glances at me, then forward at the horde and what likely lies beyond it.
"Can't. Wyatt, Marshall, Millie, and Tomas are over there. I won't leave them. Plus, my family is evacuating. We need to buy the slow ones some time before we escape."
I can't help but scoff. Family this and family that. Fuck. Ah! We need to go! Why don't they just listen?
My nails scratch my scalp as they do when I awake from a nightmare. Dammit, dammit, dammit!
Override fills my mind as I seek a solution, slowing my perception of time—any answer to this conundrum.
Come on, Abraham, think! You're no Earl, but you've got a thousand times the seconds to think than him. Come up with something!
We can't hold a line here. All those creatures will overrun us in a moment without Bonfire or Johnny. Those two are the best at battles with hordes—well... and Blake.
Her recent advancements have been insane. It's nuts, from controlling simple ghosts to reviving a hundred undead at once to fight for her. Sure, most of her undead have no Sigil or only one, as she can't really control who she takes, but that's enough.
That means we need her, right? Who is she with? Silas and Lennox, right? Well, where are they right now? Sleeping? Yeah. It's their off-duty, if I remember correctly.
Daymare can only pull one, and that one should be Blake. Johnny would be a good pick, but that'd reduce the Angels from three to two over there. And Johnny's ability to heal with Glitch is irreplaceable.
Okay, okay, okay. I need to Daymare Blake. She should be asleep right now, but I doubt she actually is. That means... I need to get her to fall asleep. Fuck. Okay. Okay. I can do that.
I just need to find her.
Ether fills my mind as I compel Allude past anything I've ever done before, surpassing its normal range and going far beyond it. I can feel the bloody nose already leaking, but I need to do this. Yet, I don't sense her even at twice the normal range, roughly two thousand feet.
Fuck. Need to do more.
Dammit!
Blood vessels pop in this slowed time, the damage excruciatingly obvious. But I force it further. I need to reach her. More and more Ether fills the skill as I imbue it with all the Willful Strand I can, expanding the skill far beyond the measly ten feet it was years ago. Bits of my mind seem to split as I force myself beyond my limits.
2.5 thousand feet.
3 thousand feet.
3.5 thousand feet.
4 thousand feet.
4.5 thousand feet.
5 thousand feet.
A mile.
I reach my limit at the mile, yet, I don't find her. Instead, I only find Silas, his mind at the edge of my range. They must be guarding the evacuation. He better be able to locate Blake. It's a gamble.
But... Earl's only a few feet from me.
I'm doing it.
Squeezing all the might I can out of my mind, I sent Silas a message using Allude across an entire mile. How Leviathan can reach thousands of miles is unfathomable.
"Find Blake! Have her fall asleep! We need her, and I can only Daymare the sleeping!"
Hastily, I cut off the connection without waiting for a reply, my mind practically melting from the exertion. Then, I nearly collapse to the floor as I yell to Virgil. Frozen grabs me by the armpit and maintains our pace away from the Motherbound as we regroup with Virgil, Skyswain, Primrose, and Earl.
"Hold this area! I sent for help! Blake should be here in less than a minute! And Motherbound my way!"
Virgil glances toward me, believing my hopeful lie as he starts ordering us all, choosing those best for certain things as we are trapped. One side is a horde of Motherbound, and the other possesses a horde of demons led by a fully healthy Angel.
"Okay! Abraham, Earl, and Skyswain! You're on the Motherbound! Primrose, Clumsy, and Frozen! You slow the horde! Earl, do you have any bombs!?"
The boy-genius nods, reaching into a pack and pulling out a hand-sized bundle of something I've never seen before.
"Yeah! This is---"
Virgil doesn't wait for an explanation as the hordes tighten the gaps, taking what I can only assume is explosives knowing Earl. Cirn's Nightmare shatters as well, leaving me woozy as I grasp for another.
"Good. I'll slow the Angel."
The man fades into shadow, his body Flickering into the stone below as he shouts us into action.
"What are you waiting for!? Go!"
