Waterstrider

Basements, Tseludia Station, Pantheonic Territory, Fourthmonth, 1634 PTS

I knew that something was wrong the moment the lights disappeared. Rachel would not have ceased to maintain them without good reason. For this reason, the instant they blinked out without warning, I became concerned. Was the Shade she was dealing with making another attack?

“What happened, are you alright?” I asked, a faint edge of concern sneaking its way into my voice. But there was no response. The voice of Rachel, who had always been immediately available to me whenever I needed her, was nowhere to be heard.

I glanced back to the Reth, who were following as best they could behind me, able to keep up because of my delay at each successive hatch. I assumed that Rachel was simply too busy to talk, but that meant that if the Reth and I needed to communicate, we would have difficulties.

I decided to just keep making my way to the battle Rachel had told me about. Even if she was unable to further guide me, I already knew the general direction, and if I became close enough, I would be able to hear it or sense the souls of its participants, even through walls. I was slowed a bit by my lack of vision, but at the level of a spirit refiner, my other senses had grown potent enough that I could still navigate the straight corridor. I did not truly need sight in a structure like this facility where almost every room was a clone of the one before it. I continued to break my way through the hatches.

Suddenly, at the edge of my sensory perception I felt a stirring, an indication of a reasonably large number of souls. I smiled, knowing that this had to be it. Hopefully I had arrived in time. After all, it would be problematic if my new subordinates and one of my Palace Leaders were to die so soon. They were difficult to replace here in Tseludia.

I forced my way through the last several doors, slashing my way through the doors using my blade. I was the wrath of the storm, and my energies took me to stand in the first stance of my sword art, looking over at the surprised crowd of Staiven, lit only by their own gunfire and the glow of a pair of whips that almost looked like they were made of strings of some sort of blazing energy. A second glance, however, informed me that they were actually just a thin stone chain surrounded in intense flame. One of the whips made contact with the featureless white helmet of one of the Staiven, and I noticed that a fragment of the whip flaked off as the impact slammed the Staiven off of their feet.

The situation was clear, and actually better than I had expected. I did not recognize this strange manifest practitioner, though his identity as a former test subject was obvious. He seemed to be in good condition, with only a few obvious gunshot wounds. Jihan was being careful, and his efforts were not at the level that would be expected of a spirit refiner. That was not a surprise, as his entire body was covered in some odd sort of burn, and that was covered by his own blood. Cinto looked to be largely alright, aside from the fact that one of her arms was dangling from a mere skein of flesh. Just what had happened before I arrived?

Still, I was heartened to discover that none of them had died yet. Now that I, uninjured and barely winded, had arrived, I would ensure everyone’s safety.

Martial arts, I had realized, was only complete at the highest levels. I was still several steps away from that realm, but the smoothness and control I had over my motions allowed a perfection of movement far surpassing that of which I had as a core formation practitioner. I had not grown substantially in brawn, but the river coursing through my meridians, the power of my Water Striding Core, had truly awakened my movements.

As a core formation practitioner, I had been able to dodge bullets by watching the aim of the barrel which fired them. It had been a good trick, one which had minimized my injuries and saved my life multiple times. But it was nothing compared to my current state. Rather than dodge, I could simply be where the line of fire was not. I turned gutshots into grazes, and by using my ability to subtly shift the form of my body, I found myself able to cause what would have grazed me to miss my body entirely. It was almost trivial to do so.

I saw a vibrant, purplish-white light begin to emerge like threads from a large machine, but a pair of swift slashes from my blade turned it to scrap before whatever it was could fully activate. I cut down the guards as if I was reaping grain, splitting the head from the stalk with simple motions.

My inclusion in the battle ruined the balance between the forces, and, as if they were caught between grindstones, the Staiven were slaughtered to the last. The room largely returned to darkness, as the fiery whips were now the only light remaining within the room. After we finished them off, Cinto and the manifest practitioner paused to rest for a moment, while Jihan looked surprisingly normal given the heavy wounds that encompassed his body.

“What happened to you?” I asked.

Looking closer, I saw that his skin was tinged red and purple, a gross discoloration that made his natural good looks appear grotesque. Jihan pointed at the machine I had just destroyed, and for a moment I sensed something odd from it.

“I was afflicted by one of those. The damage does not seem to be as severe as it looks, I wager.”

“I see. Did you know the direction back to the lobby?” I asked.

Jihan nodded, but decided to give me a warning.

“The lobby is still filled with poison, so do be careful, Sect Leader.”

“I’ll keep that under advisement,” I said.

I then glanced at Cinto. For a moment she met my gaze, but then she looked away, as if frightened or uneasy. I let it go. She seemed to be alright, I thought.

I then glanced at the manifest practitioner, and decided to approach him. He was quite strong, for his level, similar to my own strength when I was within that realm.

He looked up as I approached, and gave me a light bow despite his obvious exhaustion.

“Sect Leader Yu, I presume?” he asked.

I nodded, resting my palms on one another behind my back in an imperious manner. I was instinctively drawing on how my old sect leader had acted. I felt that my dark robes and mask could only enhance the effect.

“You would be correct,” I replied. “May I know your name?”

He nodded respectfully.

“I am Orion Dinyu, of the Veraillen System.” He smiled appreciatively as he looked at me. “You are very good at killing,” he said. “As expected of an unorthodox master.”

The words were rather ominous, but they did teach me some very useful information about the man. Based upon the amount of bloodlust the man clearly had, I suspected that he had a role in the underworld at some point. He was not just angry at the Staiven for their mistreatment of him here. There was some history there.

“Thank you,” I said, speaking calmly. “What are your plans for the future, Orion?”

He shrugged.

“I came to Tseludia to escape justice, he said. I did something quite similar to what you are doing today, but to a corporation. They were able to pay the Justice Office more money, so I ran.”

“You were looking for natural treasures.”

Orion smiled.

“I’m still missing my third technique, so I’m not desperate, but I thought I should not turn down an opportunity as it arrives.”

I nodded, agreeing with the sentiment. Even before I had reached the pinnacle of the core formation realm, I would have taken any opportunity if it presented itself.

“I thought I could join an organization here, but it seems Tseludia’s martial artists were more dominated by a single faction than I had expected, given matters back in Veraillen. Except…” He grinned. “I suspect you, being an unorthodox practitioner of the formless path, would not be a member of the Hadal Clan.”

“You would be right to assume so. If you wish, our Redwater Sect can always find a place for a man of your level.”

Orion bowed once more.

“It would be my honor Sect Leader.”

As Orion was standing up from his bow, the Reth arrived, walking gingerly over the shattered hatch fragments and the corpses of the facility guards. Jihan’s face lit up as he saw them. He quickly approached, and began rapidly speaking to them in a language that sounded notably different from the one which Rachel had been using to converse with them.

Conversely, Cinto appeared horrified by their appearance, while Orion seemed unaffected.

“We will be taking them in,” I told the two. “Rachel and Jihan both took responsibility over them, and have requested we allow them to join.”

I heard Cinto mutter something about demons and devils, and decided that she must still be in shock from her wounds. Orion shrugged, clearly not caring all too much about the matter. Though he was not an unorthodox practitioner, he clearly was not any sort of Cierran.

We made our way back to the lobby, and joined up with the remaining martial artists. Despite the lack of light, they had still been eagerly using the elevators to make their way to the surface. It seemed my hypothesis was correct, I realized. Rachel was still helping out, she was just unable to speak or create illusions, at the moment.

After a couple more minutes waiting for the elevator’s return, I had the last of the weaker martial artists go through, before bringing the Reth into the lobby to go up with the last of us. I had believed it would be easier to not show the Reth to any martial artists who I had not confirmed were part or intending to join the Redwater Sect.

As I stepped out of the elevator into the cool evening air, I let out a deep breath, feeling relaxed. It had been a long night, but finally we had made it out, and without even losing a single life among our number. I was in a good mood, and as I made my way to an aero waiting atop the stack, I felt relaxed and content as I watched the city at night. I glanced for a moment up to the stars, and remembered a conversation me and Rachel had not too long ago. I found myself wanting to speak with her again.

Veraillen Station: [The design of Tseludia Station was not unique. In fact, the original commission for its design was intended to be used for a total of six stations, to be placed in various frontier systems, each named in honor of one of the Pantheon's deities. The result, a series of uniquely designed stations who few Staiven found appealing as a living space, were later repurposed for housing refugees and alien immigrants into the Pantheonic Territory. One of these stations was Veraillen Station, which is located nearer to Canvas than Tseludia, and therefore has a higher population of Seiyal. Veraillen is known to have a particularly dangerous underworld, and plenty of films and shows created on other stations such as Tseludia like to use it as the setting for crime thrillers.]