Wrath Reincarnated

JULES

THUMP-THUMP. THUMP-THUMP.

I'm coming, Rukia. Jules slowly rose to his feet, wobbling along the entire way. His senses of taste, smell, and feeling gone, pain no longer distracted him, but made it impossible to speak clearly or move effectively. He'd just have to wing it and trust that Rukia's training in patience would play out for him.

Just like when he focused on Rukia and Kaizen's souls to Integrate with them, he focused on himself, on the outlines of his own body and their wavelengths, and he used that knowledge to move. One step, then two. Four steps, then eight, until he finally got enough of a grip on his new method of movement, and he he dragged himself through the forest again.

Now find her. Jules reached out his meditation past his own body to find Rukia in a desperate attempt to Integrate with her, even at this distance, but it was all for naught. Can't feel or sense her anywhere. Does that have to do with losing my senses? Or is it a feature of this Shrine? She's bound to be with that howling monster, and he's probably the Shrine Boss, guarding the next piece of the Sound of Fury.

He tripped over a creeping root and had to start all over, but he was much faster getting up this time. At least that's some improvement. Damn, can't help but think of that blind beggar right now. Wish my remaining senses would grow stronger faster and compensate for my weaknesses.

Hooves thundered not so far off in the distance, and the endless cries and shrieks of the three Leshens—At least I hope it's still just three—howled from the opposite side. Deep in the forest, Jules was trapped between them like a wedge, and everyone was headed to the endless howling beyond them all.

"Agitate." An idea struck Jules, so he tried to speak again. "Active gate. Aggregate. Fugg! Active rate. Activrate activrate activrate—"

« Activate » [Jules]

[All Inked Arts Consumed]

Every remaining Inked Art singed off Jules' skin, though he could only tell from the lines of smoke that rose up from them. He concentrated on each one, holding them back, which took away from concentrating on his body's wavelengths, which caused him to stumble again. Well, worth it. I can hold these off and use them any time I want now—so long as I release them one at a time, and in the correct order.

THUMP-THUMP. THUMP-THUMP.

"Fugg ott!!" Jules shouted at the sound—or the Sound, he wasn't sure which. The Wargs from the left and Leshens from the right drew closer—they'd all soon meet, and well before the howling beast. With a little inspiration from Cy, I'll pit these guys against each other. When Jules made it to a clearing, he waited for the others to arrive.

Wargs stalked in from the side, dozens of them, all smoldering still. Five Leshens stomped in from the opposite side, much to Jules' grief. One howled, and Jules released two Inked Arts at once. Doppelgangers erupted from Jules, and he made sure to make each one of them seem as off-balance as he was, like they were drunker than he'd gotten with Maddie and crew in Siren's Cove. Each headed off in a different direction to confuse the monsters, and Jules' other Inked Art took hold—all of the Wargs and Leshens took Jules' form.

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Fucking hell! It didn't quite work out so well, as the Leshens were still over ten feet tall, and the Wargs looked a bit shorter and heftier than the real Jules, who hung behind in the middle of all the chaos, while a few doppelgangers hurried off toward the howling. Drunk and sober Juleses alike clashed on the battle field and fell all around. The Leshen-Jules pursued the runners far off in the distance, and Jules had the doppelgangers fan out, while he dodged the scrambling Wargs as best they could.

The Leshens eventually caught up with the copycats and took them out, one by one. A stiff Jules leaned down to put his palm on the hard dirt between all of the Warg-Jules. He waited until the furthest doppelganger was intercepted by a towering Leshen-Jules, and then released two more Inked Arts. The Bait-and-Switch Scroll replaced the Leshens with the real Jules, and some other mimics nearby him, so that all the Wargs and Leshens were in one place.

And the Gates of Hell opened up and consumed all of his foes and remaining doppelgangers alike. Wrought iron metal erupted from the ground, then bent around to ensnare them all in demonic cage. Jules turned to watch them all burn and howl. The illusions disappeared, and the Leshens' wooden and fungi hides crackled and popped and charred away—even their antlers disintegrated to dust, just like the Wargs', who kicked and writhed, desperately trying to headbutt their way out of their prison. Somehow, the sight set Jules at ease, and he felt like he could finally take a breath and lick his wounds, though it would do him little good, now and in this place.

Only a few more Inked Arts to go. Better use them wisely.

He abandoned the monsters and hobbled through the forest, and the howling Boss drew closer. Dark and bright spots began to sizzle and pop in Jules' periphery. With each step they encroached closer to the center. It had the effects of a circle getting smaller and smaller as Jules' vision began to fade away. Suppose that's what I deserve for looking back to watch them burn. Ha! At least I didn't turn into a pillar of salt.

THUMP THUMP. THUMP THUMP.

Is it me, or is that beating slowing down?

THUMP. THUMP.

Ah, it's getting louder the more my vision fades. The forest, completely filled with trees, funneled down to just a few visible ones, as Jules' eyesight dwindled to just larger than a pin point. A gust of high-pitched wind whistled beside Jules, and he turned to face its source. Buried into the side of a hill was an entrance to a mine that Jules recognized. The gates to the Tree of Wishes? Why is that in my dream, too? Am I supposed to go down there? Jules took one step toward it, and the thumping beat sent him to his knees, and the final remnants of his vision faded away.

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

The sound grew maddening to Jules—and it was the only thing he could experience in his mind, beside his thoughts, beside trying to feel the outlines of his very soul and body. Rukia…Kaizen. I need help—I need help! Cy! Kat. Sera… Someone, anyone, please Salvos save me…

THUMP… THUMP…

It's slowing down. A heart-beat? Whose? Gotta be Rukia or the beast's… Focus, Jules. And snap out of it. No one's coming to save you—You are the one to save them. Get up. Stand up.

Jules meditated again and found the frequency of his body, and stumbled towards the howling that began to fuse with the heart beat. The closer he got to the howling, the slower the heart rate became, and the softer its sound. Leshens and Wargs, restocked from whatever damned magic fueled this Salvos-forsaken Shrine, sounded in the distance as well. Jules removed the Sound of Fury from his back, and took each broken piece in each of his hands. The growling was close now. He was about to face the Shrine Boss, he knew it.

THUMP…

THUMP…

Finally! Jules felt the heart beat, similar to how he felt thoughts through Telepathy. He rushed to it. I have to save it—Rukia? Is that you? He ran his hands along something, and he concentrated with every ounce of focus to feel it out. Soft—That's fur. He dove in headfirst and hugged her—because it had to be her. He rubbed and pet the hide, then lifted himself up. Time to Int—

"GRRRRR…."

THUMP…

Jules had overlooked its size in his desperation, mixed with his distorted sense of touch. The beast he clung to was too large.

THUMP…

But there was no mistaking it, not this close. He wasn't wrong—he'd just overlooked one critical, drastic assumption. She'd come in there with him, but she might not be coming back out.

"GGRROOWWWWLLL!!!"

…Rukia?