Chapter 28: Purgatory

You may wonder how I come by this knowledge that could only be known by Wraiths who walk the Pathways of the dead. In answer, I suppose it has something to do with the fact that I’m already dead.

Éclair struggled to make sense of the rapidly developing events that had become her life. Her more recent memories started bubbling up, but very slowly. She even recalled the heartbreaking incident with Grafael and Ryan. Éclair was also coming to terms with the fact that she might very well be losing her mind. When she first saw Ryan, she could have sworn that an explicit and unexplainable impulse to kiss him had taken hold of her. More than just kiss him.

“Éclair. Are you alright? You look feverish,” voiced Leon in concern.

“I’m as well as can be expected after apparently being turned into a crystal by undead Mystics,” Éclair answered with a huff, hoping that Leon wouldn’t pry any deeper.

It must’ve been some kind of hallucination! she told herself doggedly. That’s all! My memories feel a little jumbled together right now anyway! I saw stranger things while confined in that ... whatever it was!

That certainly rang true. Indeed, Éclair saw many things within her strange imprisonment. Aside from the cold, dark void that had saturated her, visions would occasionally spring up like recorded holodramas within her mind. Battles and wars of armored warriors from Ancient Earth that hadn’t been seen in millennia. She bore witness to campaigns from every era and timeline, even the dark years of World War III in which hardly any records survived. The old humans used ancient machines of warfare and primitive firearms of the most archaic technologies to slaughter one another in droves. Éclair had only studied such things, but never seen them with her own eyes with such clarity. Not even the aid of holographic technology seemed as real as those visions. Even more curious, she thought she saw images of stars and planets being formed as the gases and dust specks coalesced in a process that would have taken countless eons to complete. And yet, she could’ve sworn to have seen this happen before her very eyes as if she sat and watched the formation of entire solar systems personally. Strangest of all, these events transpired to her as if from memories, as if they were familiar experiences from her past. And throughout it all, she heard Ryan calling out her name, and she yearned to answer him.

Once again, Éclair suppressed a blush as she chanced only a brief glance in Ryan’s direction, who thankfully didn’t notice her looking at him. She knew she’d be better once they left. Then she and Leon would finally have time for ... whatever they needed time for.

The group continued their trek through large, haunting corridors and dark metal hallways that looked ancient, covered in dust and cobwebs. Éclair took in stride the fact that not only the young Lycan Monk, Torsha, but now the Sage, Kormal, and a very grumpy Werewolf named Mozar, had joined with her friends in Squad 99 on this mission. The Sage didn’t seem as frenzied as before; in fact, he seemed strangely warm in the way he regarded Ryan. But what had Éclair the most concerned, other than their foreboding surroundings, was Grafael’s presence. He refused any eye contact with her, but she could feel his shame when she deigned to glare at him occasionally, and ashamed he should be. She kept an eye on him in case he tried anything with Ryan, though Torsha did say something about him saving Ryan a little earlier, so Éclair wondered if he might not be a threat any longer. It didn’t make his betrayal hurt any less, but perhaps he could at least be counted as an asset for the time being.

With the lights that everyone gave off through their equipment or their powers, Éclair could clearly see her way forward as they entered a rather large chamber that led into many different hallways all around. They had come across larger chambers like this before, making Éclair wonder to the purpose of such structures, as well as what the overall size of the ship might be, which must’ve been enormous considering how long they’d been traveling. The roof of the chamber was set much higher than the other corridors, and the oval-shaped room was perhaps the size of a football field, making Éclair feel less claustrophobic compared to the more confined corridors they had come through. Still, it didn’t help ease the feelings of doom and gloom that permeated through her the more time she spent in this dark and lonely place that was the Fallen’s ship.

As the group made it to the center of the large chamber, Rachel suddenly brought them to a halt with a raised fist. “Alright, guys. I think I’ve just about mapped out this place given the areas we’ve already explored. With that as a reference, the scanner on my communicator can fill in the gaps using a geometric algorithm.”

Rachel pushed a few keys on her wrist communicator in quick succession. A blue, transparent holographic projection of a structure floated above her wrist with dozens of crisscrossing tunnels interconnecting in a complex labyrinth. Curiously, the tunnels formed a pattern of some kind. Tunnels weaved around one another in circular arcs to form what appeared to be a giant cross. The tunnels stretched from left to right, down and up in a distinct shape of something resembling a crucifix. Or perhaps it wasn’t a cross at all, but an animal of some kind. A bird with its wings outstretched in midflight, or perhaps even a...

“A bat?” said Ryan questioningly. “This ship is shaped like a freakin’ bat. Man, these Fallen guys are such dorks. Way to be subtle on the whole evil thing.”

Éclair, who had been thinking along the same lines, nonetheless felt frustrated that someone as dull as Ryan could put it together so quickly. “What makes you think it’s a bat? It could be a bird, for all we know. Or something else entirely. Perhaps the vessel doesn’t even resemble an animal at all. We have no way of knowing while confined inside of it.”

She knew she was being partially nitpicky considering that the same thought had occurred to her, but the world just made more sense when Ryan Uruks was the silly, dumb one. Although, she had to admit, he did have these sporadic bursts of intelligence that never failed to trip her up.

Ryan shrugged at Éclair’s comment. “I don’t know. I just have a hard time picturing these guys riding around in a giant tweety bird.” He scratched his chin in thought for a moment. “Unless it was like a really metal bird. Like a falcon, or maybe a hawk.” His eyes suddenly went wide as he snapped his fingers. “Oh, crap! I haven’t fed Tyrant since this whole mess started! That bird brain might cause a natural disaster if he misses just one of his twelve daily feeding times!”

Leon crossed his arms and glared daggers at the easily distractable Ryan. “And the fact that Galsin Moon is about to be sucked into the Shadow Realm isn’t disaster enough?”

Ryan scoffed, turning away from Leon and putting his hands in his pockets. “Pfft! Typical. Guy saves you from a tiny, crystal ... uh ... prison thing. Do you thank him? No! You just shame the crap outta him when he tries to crack one joke.”

Éclair found herself smiling despite everything as she spoke with her face turned away from both boys, “Emphasis on the ‘try’ part.”

“Et tu, princess,” mumbled Ryan with feigned hurt.

Éclair had to suppress a sigh of relief. Ryan is back to being the bumbling oaf that annoys everyone. Life makes sense again.

She couldn’t explain how, but Ryan’s antics never failed to comfort her, especially when they found themselves in less-than-ideal situations like this one. Somehow, she felt that things would turn out okay so long as Ryan Uruks continued to try and fail at humor.

“Anyway,” drawled Rachel with forced civility. “Regardless of whether we’re flying in a giant fish or a giant turkey, this is the basic structure of the ship.”

Rachel then pointed to a tiny red dot near the southern tip of the structure. “We are here. This is good as it’s probably near the rear of the vessel given its shape, and the best point for extraction. We’ve already set enough explosions to cook this puppy a dozen times over. So we just need to make it to the bottom tunnel near the southern tip and make our exit from there. I’ve already activated the signal, so Thisy should be here to pick us up soon. From there, it should be smooth sailing until-”

A flash of light suddenly engulfed Éclair’s vision, causing her to cry out in surprise. She heard the others emote as well, several of her companions bumping into her as they attempted to form a protective circle. Though briefly blinded by the light that forced her to clench her eyes shut, Éclair felt her way between her companions and summoned her bow.

Beneath her eyelids, she could feel the light normalizing. She slowly blinked her eyes open and let out a gasp. They were no longer in a dark corridor. As far as she could tell, they were no longer even on the ship. They were outside on a planet with a bright yellow sun. She couldn’t detect any atmospheric moderators to influence the weather as the sun appeared too bright and too hot to be filtrated by the protective shield like the one that surrounded Tarrus. Although, they did appear to be in an urban area, but one that was unfamiliar to her. The skyscrapers were too small and seemed to be made from primitive building materials like cement, metal, and glass rather than the much more durable and malleable durasteel alloy that most of the structures of Tarrus were built from.

Furthermore, there appeared to be no modern vehicles of any kind. A few rudimentary flying craft could be seen here and there throughout the clouds, but they appeared to be primitive vessels that used propellers instead of gravity engines as was the norm for hovercraft. Éclair was used to a sky with thousands of hovercraft and thousands of people floating in gravity escalators as they went about their business. This bare sky, as bright and blue as it was, felt strangely depressing to her.

As Éclair scanned their new environment, slowly acclimatizing to the heat and the brightness, her face and hair were buffeted with a strong gust of wind. She realized with a growing sense of alarm that they were somewhere extremely high up. Some persistent and aggravating noise continuously trumpeted through the air. She thought it sounded like a flock of very loud birds, but decided it was too relentless even for that. Éclair walked tremulously to the edge and looked down. They were on a structure of some kind. A tall tower by the looks of it. Again, nowhere near the size of many of the skyscrapers that Tarrus boasted, but still high enough to give Éclair pause. Below, she could make out hundreds upon hundreds of land vehicles cloistered together on black streets. The metal vehicles came in all kinds of shapes and with hues ranging from bright to dull colors, and it appeared that they were the source of the annoying noises that permeated the air. As Éclair racked her brain for the right word to describe the noises, she realized that the land vehicles were ... talking to each other in a crude form of communication known as ‘honking’.

Slowly, Éclair came to understand where exactly they were, or at least where they appeared to be. She vaguely wondered if this was some kind of holographic simulation when Torsha yelled in warning.

“GET DOWN!”

Almost too late, Éclair pressed herself flat to the stone roof as a land vehicle with rubber wheels attached to the bottom flew over her head. She thought it was called a car, a vehicle from Ancient Earth that ran on fossil fuels and widely went out of use when humanity mastered space travel. She only got a quick glance at the car as it sailed over her head. It was yellow and seemed to be one of the smaller versions of the land vehicles. But that wasn’t what made Éclair’s heart stop. The fact that she heard screams coming from the car made her pause.

Éclair recovered too slowly. She cried out for Grafael to catch the vehicle and stop its momentum, but it was already too late. He was ducking out of the way along with everyone else. The screams of terror were silenced as the land vehicle crashed into the pavement, exploding into a torrent of flame as it skidded across the roof only to collide with a large metal sign on the opposite end a good fifty feet away.

Éclair tried to tear her eyes away from the smoking, mangled carcasses that no doubt lay beneath the flaming rubble, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do so. People had died. She wasn’t sure if this was a holographic illusion or a telepathic one. But if it was neither somehow, then people had just died right in front of her, and she had done nothing to prevent their deaths.

“More incoming!” cried out Torsha, springing to her feet.

Éclair could sense it, too. This time her senses were attuned as she detected an object coming towards their position at high speed. She sidestepped just in time as what appeared to be a body slammed into the roof of the skyscraper, making a large hole into the apartment that lay below. The body seemed to still be alive as the person in question threw off a large dresser with the obvious strength and durability of a Physical Type Psionic User. He wore... Éclair almost blushed. The man was wearing a skin-tight cloth outfit that looked like undergarments of some kind. The man had dark hair and a well-muscled physique that was perfectly outlined as his bright yellow undergarments left little to the imagination. A symbol of a large red fist was painted on his chest and a white robe had been tied around his shoulders. Bright red underwear appeared to be draped over the man’s yellow pants, and both appeared far too tight to be appropriate. His bearing indicated something close to military discipline, but if he was indeed a soldier as his well-built frame and demeanor seemed to imply, then his army’s uniform was by far the silliest that Éclair had ever encountered.

Ryan, Grafael, and Leon all ran for Éclair. She almost scoffed at them. If they hadn’t been so obsessed with helping her, they might’ve noticed that vehicle full of innocent bystanders that were just mutilated before their very eyes. She supposed that she was no better as she herself didn’t react in time to help the people in the car.

As the group huddled around her, they all stared down at the stranger that had just crashed through the roof of the apartment complex. The strangely dressed man appraised them with equal curiosity, staring up through the hole with intense scrutiny.

“Why is that fellow wearing underwear over his pants?” asked Grafael with obvious amusement.

As Grafael spoke, the man glared at him, balling his fists in anger. He shot a venomous glance at both Mozar and Torsha before speaking. “You’re more of Mr. Wroth’s henchmen.”

“Mr. Who?” asked Grafael.

As quick as a thought, the man shot out of the hole, slamming both fists into Grafael. The momentum of the stranger’s blow took Grafael off his feet and carried him up into the air. It seemed as if the man in underwear had the power of flight, an ability usually reserved for only high-level Elementals.

As the pair shot away to the roof of another building, Éclair drew her bow. She was just about to fire when she heard something slicing through the air towards her. It appeared to be a spiked, metal object of some kind, similar to a knife. In an instant, Éclair had swiveled around and shot the object out of the air, freezing it with ice so cold that it disintegrated instantly. More spinning blades came towards her and her companions, at least a dozen, but Éclair took each of them out with an equal number of arrows in less than an eyeblink. She aimed her last arrow at the source of the spinning blades. It was a man in a tight, gray outfit similar to a leotard or spandex like the other man before. He wore a black hood and cape, as well as a face covering over his mouth. The man had quick reflexes as he dodged her first shot, but unlike the first man, he didn’t appear to possess the superhuman qualities of a Psionic User. As far as she could tell with her sensory abilities, he was just a normal man. A man that had apparently put his body through hell to attain peak physical fitness, but an ordinary human nonetheless.

Leon was on the hooded man in an instant, summoning his Psionic Blades to himself and attacking just as Éclair unleashed her first arrow as if he knew it would fail somehow. Just before Leon took out the leg of the hooded man, a scantily-clad woman appeared and forced him back. Out of Éclair’s peripheral vision, she noticed Ryan’s jaw drop as the woman came into full focus. Éclair nearly smacked him.

The strange woman was wearing practically nothing at all, a bright green outfit that seemed more like a one-piece swimsuit than an actual uniform. She had long, black hair, a voluptuous figure, and a small, black mask that barely covered her eyes. For the life of her, Éclair could not understand why the woman even bothered with such a tiny mask while showing that much ... of herself. But despite her vulgar appearance, there was an obvious warrior grace to the woman as she attacked Leon with a savage kick.

Leon dodged the attack, and a good thing too, for the woman’s green boot left a large hole in the roof of the building. She was obviously a Physical Type as well. When she missed, the woman flew through the air to get her bearings. Éclair guessed that either she was manipulating her element to fly as many Elementals did, or she was of such a high level that she could do that at will as many high-level Elementals could. Saria had yet to teach the trick to Éclair.

As the woman hovered, presenting a most convenient target, Éclair obliged and let loose an arrow. Surprisingly, when the woman saw the attack coming, she raised a hand as if to catch the arrow. When the Psionic tip of the arrow went through the woman’s palm and then began to freeze her arm, the skank actually seemed surprised, as if she expected to deflect a Psionic Weapon with her bare hand. With a cry, the woman ripped the arrow from her impaled hand before her arm was completely covered in ice. That also was a mistake as she dropped the arrow, blood oozing from her unfrozen hand now as well. Didn’t she know better than to touch a live Psionic Weapon charged with psions? Even the portions that didn’t make up the sharp bits were dangerous for anyone other than the user.

Both Rachel and Leon gave no quarter for the woman’s confusion, attacking her with arcs of wind and lightning from their Psionic Weapons. The flying trollop, doing something sensible for once, flew away before their attacks could land.

Éclair heard a grunt as the hooded man hit Ryan in the face several times in the head with his fists, but the half-breed just stood there looking confused. Éclair knew from experience how resilient anyone of the Saurian bloodline could be, even those that were only part Saurian like Ryan.

As the hooded man spun around and delivered what would’ve been a devastating kick to anyone else, Ryan just stood there, appraising the man with something akin to pity. The fact that Ryan didn’t feel the need to dodge or block indicated just how much of a threat the man was to him. He had come a long way as a Beater. Even without his Dragon heritage, his strength as an Elemental was well beyond that of ordinary humans.

“Dude, why the heck are you doing this?”

The man jumped away, slamming a metal ball to the ground. Smoke engulfed him as the hooded man used the distraction to his advantage and leapt away.

“You know, that’s only slightly annoying, right?” called Ryan as he began coughing through the smoke. “Okay. Maybe more than slightly.”

Remembering Grafael, Éclair scanned the outlining buildings for any sign of him. She caught sight of the Earth Dragon struggling with the man in the bright yellow suit. The flying man seemed equal in strength and speed to Grafael, but obviously lacked the Saurian’s skill in hand-to hand-combat. Strangely, the man didn’t seem to employ an Elemental attack, nor any kind of ranged offensive of any kind. He just barreled on ahead with his fists and sheer brute force.

Grafael easily avoided the yellow-clad man’s building-shattering punch, delivering a withering blow with his hammer right into the man’s chest, sending him flying into the air to land in a heap into a nearby building whose rooftop exploded from the impact. Grafael quickly bounded over to Éclair, covering the distance between building tops in a single leap. The Saurian was smiling. At least his opponent, though less skilled, was tough enough to make even Grafael’s warrior blood boil.

Éclair nearly ran to Grafael to hug him, but then remembered herself. After the things he said, the things he tried to do to Ryan, she knew she could no longer trust him. He was no longer the Grafael she knew. The Grafael she knew would never have been able to do the things he tried to do, let alone contemplate those things. Worst still, Grafael had the gall to clap hands with Ryan as he returned to fight alongside the others. At least when he caught sight of Éclair, the Raptor Warrior had the decency to erase his grin as his face lowered in shame.

The flying nudist soon returned, this time hauling a large boulder bigger than the burning car over her head. She hurled the big rock towards Squad 99 with obvious effort. As the earthen missile came sailing towards them, no one bothered to dodge as Tork took to the sky. The Space Dragon, wielding his baton sword and sawblade-shield superbly, destroyed the boulder in midflight, splitting it into pieces that fell harmlessly around his teammates. He then knocked the flying lady out of the sky with a well-aimed blast of fire from his mouth.

When the flying lady hit the ground in a heap of flame with a cry of surprise, Éclair knocked a highly-charged arrow to her bow to finish her off. Why none of these Psionic Users used Psionic Armor or Weapons of any kind was anyone’s guess. Elementals had learned long ago not to solely rely on their powers alone, but she supposed this being an older version of Ancient Earth meant the inhabitants were not as familiar with supernatural abilities.

Then a blur of blue passed across Éclair’s vision just before something very fast knocked her to the ground. She was in a daze for a moment as Grafael pulled her to her feet.

“My protectorate! Are you alright!”

Éclair immediately regained cognizance and slapped the big, scaly hand away. “Don’t touch me! I’m not your anything, Grafael!”

Grafael flinched back as if someone had just slammed him in the gut with a blow that even he could feel.

The flash of blue came again, moving at supersonic speeds. This time, Éclair was ready. She could feel the psions of a Physical-Type Psionic User. But instead of focusing power into strength, this one focused only on speed. These Runners were more uncommon than Beaters, but Éclair could track them with her sensory abilities. As the blur of blue came back around for a second strike, Éclair quickly calculated his trajectory and ducked under his strike at the last instant, letting his momentum take him past her. Most with speed enhancement were smart enough only to use such dashes in short bursts. There were disadvantages to moving so quickly all the time, one being the inability to course correct, or detect enemy counterattacks. As the blue blur zoomed by, she spun and loosed an arrow directly behind herself. She didn’t aim for where the blue blur was, but rather where it was going to be. The arrow hit the ground just in front of the very fast man, creating a pool of ice that caused him to slip and fall.

Before the speedster could get up and start running again, Éclair dashed at him with her own considerable speed and knocked him out with a swift kick to his head, sending his limp form sprawling on his back. Just to be sure, she shot an arrow near his side, freezing him in place except for his head so he could still breathe, but there didn’t seem much need as her kick had rendered him unconscious. Now that he was no longer a blur of supersonic speed, she could see him clearly. The man appeared to be another strange person in a skin-tight blue suit covering him from head to foot and obscuring his face. A picture of a speeding golden race car was sown on the tight fabric around his chest.

Where did these people train? Aside from the one without powers, they fight like amateurs. It’s like they only just recently started using their abilities. And if that’s the case, why do they seem so confident?

Éclair reveled in her victory over the speedster so much that she didn’t notice the beeping sound behind her. But Ryan did.

“Éclair!” Ryan cried as he tackled Éclair out of the explosion’s path.

They escaped the blast, but unfortunately, Ryan had overestimated the strength of his leap. He and Éclair went hurtling over the side. As they went into freefall, the blinding light returned.

“Lady Eclair!” screamed Grafael as he rushed to follow Éclair over the side of the building, but the man in the yellow suit returned, grappling with the Saurian in a wrestling match that made the stone beneath them crumble to dust.

Leon had just about enough of these costumed morons. Whether they were simulations or somehow real no longer mattered to him. He had to get out of this madhouse and get Éclair to safety. He promised himself that if he lost everything else he had left, he would not lose her no matter the cost.

As the big man in the ridiculous bright yellow jumpsuit matched his strength against Grafael, Leon came from behind and took the man’s right arm with a quick slice of his blade.

The man screamed and staggered back. He stared at his arm on the ground, and then he stared at Leon’s sword in confusion. Disbelief shined through his eyes. He seriously hadn’t expected to be injured while wearing no armor. Even Physical Types with enhanced durability knew they weren’t invincible. Psionic Blades could cut an opponent physically and spiritually at the same time. An Elemental’s weapon could sever bonds at the subatomic level, literally ripping molecules apart as they incinerated anything they came in contact with. It didn’t matter how hard one’s skin was. Even Dragon scales, which were tougher than most armor, couldn’t completely defend against a fully charged Psionic Blade.

As the man in the yellow jumpsuit shook with shock or pain, he spoke in a quivering voice. “It’s ... it’s not possible! Only telanite can wound me! You fiend! What kind of weapon did that madman, Mr. Wroth, give you?”

Leon gave Grafael a sidelong glance, and the Saurian only shrugged in response. “I don’t know who this Mr. Wroth is, but Psionic Users on our world learned long ago not to charge bare-fisted into a warzone. It doesn’t matter how tough your skin is. It’s still flesh in the end. Meaning that I can still cut you since Psionic Weapons are designed to weaken the cohesion between molecules and atoms.”

The man in the yellow jumpsuit glared at Leon, but still cradled his severed hand.

Leon sensed the presence of more minds converging on their position. Whatever these beings were, they certainly didn’t feel like illusions. Each one possessed thoughts and emotions on par with real sentient lifeforms.

“Marvelous show. Seems that someone has beaten me to the punch,” said a flamboyant voice.

The speaker in question was a tall, bearded man in a top hat. He wore a black business suit as well as a red and black cloak around his shoulders. The man’s thin, ginger beard and mustache were well-groomed, rendering him an aristocratic air. Red sunglasses obscured his eyes. He wore black leather gloves on each hand and held a cane with a silver skull on the handle. The graceful way he moved bespoke of a Psionic User, one of great skill in Leon’s estimation, or at least skilled in comparison to the others he encountered so far. As eccentric as this newcomer’s appearance seemed, his attire actually appeared more professional than that of the others.

“I’d thank you for the aid, but I don’t recall inviting you to our little soiree. Party crashing is terribly rude, you know.” When the man spoke, he flourished his cane dramatically, but Leon could tell it wasn’t just for show. Every movement of this man was precise and well calculated, as if he had carefully choreographed every insignificant action beforehand.

The man in the yellow jumpsuit stared in disbelief at the man in the top hat. “You mean ... they aren’t with you?”

“So we’ve been fighting because of a misunderstanding. How perverse,” commented Tork.

“I don’t care either way,” said Leon, stepping forward aggressively towards the well-tailored man. “This is all nothing more than an elaborate illusion. And even if it’s not, its only purpose is to distract us nonetheless. So all we have to do is kill all these meddlers, and then we can focus on getting out of here.”

“I don’t think that’s wise, young one,” said Kormal warningly, raising a hand in front of Leon. “We should analyze the situation before we act.”

A sensible request, and one Leon would probably give Ryan under certain circumstances. But that was before Éclair disappeared. Leon pushed past the Sage’s hand and swiped his purple glowing blades vertically, sending an arc of condensed air strong enough to cut a building in half towards the top hat. Leon’s manipulation of wind was so thick that even a normal person could see the air visibly contort into a dense, translucent shroud that resembled a gigantic blade as it sailed towards its target.