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Primrose 'Venomous Serpent' Gatran

"Gather 'round! First unit to the Gate! Second unit, prepare for ranged fire! Third and fourth! Ready to relieve the others! Fifth! Raise the oars! Council! Brandish thy armor!"

I stand behind the Nahullo as they coordinate their bastion's defense. It is estimated by Augurs that the Gate of Death beneath the Iced Rampart will be the first to be breached.

And, of fucking course, it is. I was sent here. Yeah, yeah, yeah 'can you do this? We need it.' fuck you, Johnny. The things I do for you and your dream...

Bodies in thick metal casings rush all over as I boil in my own frustrations, wrapped tightly by several scarves and thick layers. How in the hell do these fuckers not freeze!? It's so damned cold!

Shivering, I continue to observe silently until a tall figure in metal walks over to me, long alabaster hair peeking out from her visor. Anodra. Great. I want to kill her. But... Orders are orders. And... I'd promptly die.

"I see you are chilly. I'd recommend flowing your Ether through your body, making small frictions like you're trying to assemble fire with a stick using the Ether to warm yourself up."

I squint at her, already doing as she mentioned. Near immediately, I feel relief as my limbs sober up. Not that I let her know that.

"I know. Saving my Ether for the fight."

Anodra lowers her head marginally, and I can discern a slight smile behind the steel. Bitch. She's laughing at me. Whatever. I turn and face the Nahullo's own abyss that leads to their Gate of Death.

"Right. Just don't lose any limbs. We wouldn't want to send you back hurt, now would we?"

I meet Anodra's ironclad gaze without any fear. She's challenging me, isn't she? Dammit, Primrose! Relax. These aren't enemies anymore. Well... not for now.

Forcing my muscles to unclench after the few days I've already been in the Frozen Wastes, I exhale a long breath. The tension I've held unwinds for just a few moments. I'm sure it'll reemerge when these Motherbound surface, but that's alright.

I'm here to be a diplomat—a shitty choice by Johnny, in my opinion. I might be rather fetching for humans, but I don't think these pale tin cans want anything to do with a short one like me. Nevertheless, it's my job. Either Rich or me as we can't trust an Estate to mingle with enemies. And... that man rarely talks.

"Mhmm. How long do you think we have? And what's my job here?"

Anodra reels back slightly, evidently surprised by my change of tone.

"A few hours at most. The Augurs have better sight the closer it comes, and... it's close. Your job is to follow me and my squad. Don't lose the Oscilator, or you'll not understand a word we're saying. We won't have time to translate or use your language during this. Also, word just got sent from your home that the Graves' boy and the human-skinned monster came out of the Underworld."

The Nahullo's meaning is left unsaid, not spoken into the air nor picked up by my artifact that turns words into thoughts, understandable by all. She hates Wyatt and Lennon just as Timemi and Natos despise them.

"You'll never be his match. Missed your chance, girl. That boy is long ahead of you at this point."

"Sure."

Anodra waves off my words as simple bravado before walking away, but I believe in them wholeheartedly. Wyatt's proven his capacity to destroy expectations at every turn, and that's not even counting the other two Sigiled he has tied with himself.

This bitch has no idea. If she goes for revenge, she's dead. Simple as that. Plus... it'd ruin all that Johnny and Ytern have been building. Much of the old human regime died, and with that, most of the people who the Nahullo had direct grudges with.

Now, Johnny has killed plenty himself, but so has Ytern. The two put aside their differences. But me?

Oh, lordy. You know I'm holding that shit in. A Nahullo killed my cousin! Rodirk was but a young man! Ah... who am I kidding he totally deserved it, as mouthful as he was. Still, family is family.

Don't even get me started on Sacate. I miss him.

How did Johnny just... look past it!? His best friend, a life-long friend? How did he... move on? I never could. I hold grudges better than the Devil. At least, that's what my ex used to say. Speaking of... I'm sure he's as dead as a doornail by now.

I take the ear overlaid on top of mine off for a few moments as all the noise around me turns to gibberish. I'm no Johnny, spending decades on the Frontier and learning much of every language.

A girl's gotta have some fun! And by fun, I mean killing monsters, drinking booze, and messing with boys. Though, I'm a one-boy-girl now.

The chaos of noise brings me some peace. I can almost imagine I'm back at Rustbank, the cheerful bar where I first met Johnny. The place all this shit started way back when. He came to town just for little ol' me, wanting me to join his hunts in his... eh, I don't remember the name of his old team.

But reminiscing gives me some clarity on things. I hated the gunslinger when I met him—I thought he was too uptight. The money though... a high salary can make a girl do many things. Of course, I'd never do the worst of them, but I'd kill for a decent penny.

Reaching into my pocket, I recall an old friend who hasn't shared a drink with me in many, many moons. Just for him, for Levi, the moody strongman who was more loyal than a hound, I take a swig.

"It's been a long time. If you were still alive... I wonder... would you be here with me now, Levi? Or... would you have fallen behind?"

No answer comes to my question. As expected. The delirium of war continues, drums sounding in the depths of the fortress while walls of ice build around the crater toward the greatest danger in the world.

Levi's not the only friend who has died. Even before the shitshow at Rustbank came about... Johnny and I had gone through quite a few bodies. Now that I think about it... I'm his... heh... most trusted friend. Subordinate. Whatever. I know he doesn't think like that. We've fought together the longest out of all who still remain. That...

That's why he sent me here, not Rich or anyone else. It's because he trusts me. Fuck. Shit. I can't let him down. It'd destroy me to see his disappointed face. I'd rather die than fail him. He's too good. For him. I'll be good.

I put away the canteen of my favorite stinging juice and refocus my mind. The artifact goes back onto my ear as I overpower its negative effect of damaging my ears with piercing screeches. I'll still have to get them healed later, but for now, it'll be fine.

Stepping forward, off the pale blue wall of stone behind me, I stride toward a contingent of Angels. The Councilmembers stationed here. Anodora is already speaking to them, ensuring all is well before the grand battle. Though... she seems angrier than before.

"Oshwa! Get your Carcass on right! I don't care if you've only been an Angel for a month! This is the most important battle in our history! Your honor will continue on for generations!"

Honor. This and that. The Nahullo are so bizarre. I cross my arms, twisting my legs as I lean against a battlement to listen.

"And you! Bazar! Let me see your Claymore! Good. That'll do. Your family should be proud of making such weapons. Alright! Let's—"

The ground beneath us bellows a deep and guttural sound that sends shivers up my spine. I stumble as the earth shakes violently, waves of tremors rolling through the city. Buildings sway dangerously and icy windows shatter into fragments of chill all over the streets. It's chaos, but I manage to keep my balance, instinctively bending my knees to ride out the quakes while I use Ether to aid my movements.

Nahullo around me scream and scatter, their fear palpable in the air. I can see the ground splitting open in places, cracks forming and widening with each tremor. Debris is hurled through the streets, and I have to duck to avoid a falling icicle. The world seems to tilt and sway as if it's suddenly been thrown off balance, but I hold on with my heart racing.

Ahead of me, the group of armored figures falls to the ground, their heavy gear clanging as they hit the pavement. They struggle to get back on their feet, their bulky armor making it difficult to regain their balance. Only Anodra manages to prevent her own tumbling from this quake that sunders much of the battlements in twain.

Seeing the devastation, I weave through the chaos, carefully stepping over the fallen and sidestepping chunks of rubble while heading to the edge of the abyss. I gotta see this for myself.

The earthquake's force intensifies, sending another wave of tremors through the ground. The street beneath me ripples like a restless sea, and I feel my footing shift with each violent shake. It's as if the earth itself is coming alive, its anger erupting in a burst of raw energy. I take a deep breath and focus, my body reacting to each movement of the ground, adjusting and finding stability where I can.

The armored figures are scattered, some crawling, others attempting to stand. I see a crack open up beneath one of them, swallowing him whole, and my stomach lurches at the sight. Worse yet, I think I saw some Darklight down there.

I press on, my senses heightened, watching for any sign of danger. The city around me is falling apart, buildings crumbling, and streets torn asunder. Nevertheless, I reach a collapsing cliff in a mere ten seconds.

Careful not to fall, I lean over for a good look while the battalions of Nahullo surge to protect their equipment. I even brought some high-quality cannons made by my lovely Earl. Spotting those things, I dive toward them, turning into gas as I swerve past descending debris.

Finding my footing without my Ether, I kneel, urging strength into my limbs to help keep one steady. Then... I hear the growls. Widening my ears, I glance down into the tunnel of darkness, the walls encapsulated by ice.

A thousand... no... tens of thousands of eyes glow within the darkness that devours even the sun's light. Without hesitation, I ignite the fuse on the cannon, kicking it into the hole while tossing my Power onto it.

A thick stamp of corrosive Ether in the shape of two lips resides on the bomb before it falls into the abyss. Sprinting away, I don't wait to hear the boom nor smell the acidic tang from the detonation, even as the Nahullo rally themselves against the expected yet unexpected attack.

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Silas 'Forgetful Wisherman' Moon

Shrouded by Alexos' Ether, the two of us walk through the Underworld with only the breeze to accompany our journey. The Motherbound are clueless about our presence, and according to my fellow Undead, as long as we stay away from Gods, we should stay hidden.

As we walk, however, taking our time to recover from our wounds, I stare at the porcelain hand in my palms. It... is slightly larger than mine, and it fits like a glove. Sliding it on, I listen to Mie's charred complaints.

"I bet his Arca sucks. Don't you? He never had all that much personal power. It was always his trickery. Even as a Demigod... What do you want to name it?"

I flip the alabaster hand over and over, admiring its construction and shape immensely. I can't remember much about this Eli Weiss, but I trust Mie's judgment. If he was a trickster...

"Trickster's Glove."

Mie nods with enthusiasm within my eye socket as we simultaneously flow Ether into the glove. An artifact made from a Dominion will likely have quite the remnant spirit. It'll take both of us to deter its most awful effects.

As our Ether connects to the Sigil within Eli Weiss' Arca, however, no struggle comes. There is no battle for wills like with most Arca. There is only...

Clever fucking bastard.

Afterlife protocol 3.6: Soul Manipulation.

If you are reading this, I am dead. And my tests on Undead were... fruitful. This is a prerecorded message instilled into my very Sigil. If you are human, say my General's famous words. Otherwise, what remains will detonate in 30...29...28

Of course. A test. Despite my complete wonder at how Eli managed such a thing, I rely on Mie to answer these questions as I can't recall who this 'General' is.

"He really wasn't lying. Eli looked up to Marshall. How sad. Say this aloud, Silas.

'Into the long dusk, we always rage, rage against the inevitable end, the long darkness that never ceases. Until the very last man, we fight.

No candle may be snuffed without a sound. Even as the dark takes us, we burn with rage as unending as the dark.

And as the very last man falls, he, too, shall spread the fire.'

All humans would know this by heart."

With a nod, glancing at our silent but watchful companion, I repeat after her, not mincing a single word. The instant I finish saying 'fire,' more thoughts stream from the Arca.

Aye. Until the very last man. And even then, death does not have to be the end. A soldier serves until the war is over, even one such as I. I had long known that my journey's end would not be peaceful. There was never going to be a joyful sunrise. I was never going to sip on a wine while reminiscing on the war. I would never laugh over the foul times with a friend. I abandoned those luxuries when I embarked upon this path. I know it is wrong. But there is simply no other way. The road to Hell and all... What am I even saying? There's a chance no one will ever read this. Haah... If there is a soul at the other end of this, learn from my failures. This... this is my final message. The rest will be automated by the structures placed within my Sigil and soul.

For all the evil I had done, no matter how wrong or misguided some believe, it is what kept us alive in the Eleventh's absence. There were many failures, but only the failures were seen. The successes were successes because no eye ever saw those horrors. I regret nothing. Not a damned thing. The cost for one's own survival is great. To carry a civilization on your shoulders would corrupt even a perfect man. Never. Never let one rule. Never again. Kings shall never stand in the land of men. Neither should any 'Prime'. It is hypocritical, but it is my honest thoughts. Just as my first test started with souls, I shall end it similarly. Goodbye World.

A series of clacking noises echo within my own skull as the words cease to stop, continuing, only now they possess a lifeless aura. This is... no longer a man. It is his shell.

Ace Of Spades Protocol initiated. Self-destruct terminated. King Of Hearts found. Full ownership of Sigil and remnant will given to Silas Moon. Personality matrix forming.

...

...

...

Hello. I am—searching soul for an answer—the Trickster's Glove. I possess three distinct abilities that you may now use at your discretion.

First: All living matter in contact with a piece of your flesh can be seen through. Note: If you cut off a finger and place it somewhere, it will remain as a way to observe. With enough time, you can see the whole wide world.

Second: When someone lies to you, you will be able to tell if they are lying or not. Note: Half-truths can bypass this. Not always but sometimes. Depends on what the liar believes. You must be clever enough to see through the halves.

Third: Upon physical contact with a creature with a Power, you may take it, robbing them of it until you relinquish the Power. You can store up to nine Powers. Note: You cannot steal from those with souls that can overpower yours.

I hope you are satisfied with these boons, Silas Moon. May humanity prosper into a new age. My time is over. Now, it is up to you to continue the legacy.

The thoughts cease as Mie and I are left reeling. The sheer fact Eli manipulated his soul to this degree is jaw-dropping; even more so is the point that he knew what his Arca would become.

Of course, he would. From what Mie's told me, this bastard is the most clever weasel ever to walk the planet—a tried and true fox. A dead one, now, but that doesn't diminish his schemes.

"So... What's next? I... don't know how I feel about using this Arca, Silas. It kind of makes me uncomfortable."

Remembering her past, one of the few things that remain, I bow my head silently. Then, I reassure her. After all... this is a revenge in a way.

"Just treat it like desecrating his corpse. Will that make you feel better?"

"No."

Well, I tried. Ruminating on something else to say, I receive a pat on my shoulder. Pivoting to face Alexos, the man places a finger over his lips. Confused because he can usually block out all sound, I glance past him, finally paying attention after hours of walking.

An immortal war rages just feet from the Gate of Death. The strongest of all Undead faces down an endless army of shivering filth encased with silver, led by a God. I cannot recall the God's identity for the life of me, but they definitely aren't one of the six I saw a few days ago.

This one... It's a rotating ball made of reflecting mirrors. How odd. Did we really have a God like that?

"Silas. Keep quiet. I don't know what that thing is, and that scares me. It must be a God from wherever She came from originally."

Oh. That makes sense.

Alexos leads me around the battle, where a lone man struggles to withstand the onslaught of a million foes. It's respectable. Mie even starts to cry, but I don't feel her pain as much. I'll miss the old man, for sure, but we never spoke extensively.

That I can remember, at least.

So, I follow the Phantom Pain, even as those wrist-thick strands of hair overwhelm Isaac Erno. The last thing I hear before stepping into the suffocating darkness of the Gate of Death is a howl, one that denies reality.

Once in the shadowed embrace of the tunnel, Alexos speaks to me, still holding onto my shoulder.

"Thankfully, Killian did as asked. Now. Continue on. I will go help Isaac."

I snort a short laugh while the man turns around. Mie agrees with me, screaming at the man not to give up his life.

"What are you doing!? Don't walk to your death, you coward! Stand up! Atone, you bastard! I know you've done some awful things, but... dying here is a waste!"

Alexos only makes it a few steps before pausing, craning his head.

"Perhaps you are right, Mie. Perhaps you are right. But how can I face them? After all that I have done?"

I answer this time, speaking for Mie from personal experience. This is... something I have knowledge of.

"You wait. You wait to see them until you've become someone you can be proud of."

The Phantom Pain bows his head profoundly, taking in my words. Then... he agrees.

"I like that. I like the sound of that a mighty lot. But... I got a hell of a lot to atone for. Better start now, I 'spose."

Squinting in confusion, Mie and I watch as Alexos fills the tunnel with illusory traps, his Ether solidifying within every nook and cranny. Seeing him work, we persist down the tunnel while a vague pressure descends on our chest before continually being repelled by some force.

Before long, lights materialize within my sight, and I smile, seeing her once more, the woman who makes my frozen heart squirm.