IK vs PA Multi-Battle - Church

[Enigmatic Immortal]

This Battle will open at Midnight tonight!

I will be announcing who is participating in this before hand if I get both sides match ups in time. If by that time none is given I will assign the fighter. Remember that whoever posts first sets the parameters for the fight as well as the setting!

[Enigmatic Immortal]

This Battle is going to be:

Silence Sei vs Poison

[Poison]

Poison perched on the balls of her toes, perfectly balanced, high in the rafters of the old church. The unlucky village was to be the meeting place for two forces. Each side of course believed itself to be completely in the right, but she didn’t care. All she cared about was the money that she had been promised to aid in the battle against Sei Orlouge and his Ixian Knights.

She gazed down at the church sanctuary. It was a medium-sized room with tall windows lining the outer walls. A single center aisle connected the door to the podium at the front, neatly dividing the room into two sides. Each side had about ten rows of padded bench pews. The padding was worn and discolored, but it was still there. A solid wood podium stood at the very front and center of the room from which she surmised the priest gave his lectures. The floor was also wood and very dusty. Every now and then she heard a part of the building creak as old buildings often do. She had never been one for church, despite her angelic heritage. Until today, she had never even stepped foot into such a building.

Some people might have found it odd to find a vampire inside a church. Poison, however, was no ordinary vampire. Though she couldn’t explain why, she had discovered that she didn’t burst into flame in sunlight. Sunlight was painful, but as long as she was covered or inside a building it didn’t bother her. Holy things and places didn’t bother her either. She could move at will through any church or touch any holy item, as long as it wasn’t silver. Of all the vampiric traits she’d ever heard of, the sensitivity to silver had manifested itself early and strong. She could barely stand to pick up a silver coin unless she had her gloves on. But despite all this, she had adjusted. She had a long, hooded cloak to protect her from the sun and gloves to protect her hands.

Yawning silently, she stretched her gloved hands in front of her then pulled both titanium sais from her belt. This would be an interesting battle. She had not been able to afford any fast acting poisons to coat her weapons, so she would be relying on her battle skills alone. She perked up at the sound of footsteps outside the door.

It must be time…

Smiling softly to herself, she concentrated on the shadows around her and melded silently into them. To the casual observer, she had completely disappeared. Now, she could observe the newcomer without their knowledge and decide how best to go about this job.

[Silence Sei]

The Nine Generals of the Ixian Knights were no more.

William Arcus had betrayed his ‘friends’. Duffy Bracken and Dorian Sessthal had taken a stance to not follow their leader into battle. Talen Shadowalker had not been heard from for months. There had not even been a General to lead the wetworks division of the massive army. This war, this fight was meant to unite the men, not break them apart.

The mute had taken what remained of his generals and issued out different orders. Taka Benjiro would command the majority of the Ixian Knights army against their enemy. Zerith Dracosius was to sweep the streets for any innocents that could possibly get caught in the crossfire of the battles on the streets. Kyla Orlouge was to stay close to Sei himself, an attempt to protect the daughter that insisted on fighting.

He had started this war with the best of intentions. By taking down the Corone Empire, the Ixian Knights would pave the way for a democracy in the capital of Radasanth. So much good was to be done, if the Empire had just given in to Sei and his requests to relent. Now, the mute had spent the last few minutes praying to the Thaynes for forgiveness. He had spilt so much blood this day, managed to move his forces into the bustling city itself. This would be his only chance to grieve for the soldiers who gave their lives today, friend and foe.

Vibrant colors found their way onto the Mystic’s face, bright pinks and yellows and greens thanks to the stained glass window hung high above him. He knelt on the stairs as a servant would beg a king for mercy. The smell of stale air filled the chapel, while particles of dust floated softly though the rays of light. Sei had expected resistance from the Empire, but what he had not foreseen was the interference of Phoenix Ascendant.

Phoenix Ascendant had been a relatively unknown group until Sei had made his declaration for war known. Apparently, the group was primarily formed of drunkards and their charges. Did they think that they were fighting on the side of right? Had their love for the drink clouded their heads so much that they truly wished to defend the Empire? He prayed for the souls of these bar flies, and the mercenaries they had hired to revolt against the Knights. More likely than not, the misguided fools would find themselves in coffins by the end of this war.

Sei opened his eyes and stood up. Turning around, his eyes pierced through the environment that the house of the Thayne provided. Pews lay desolate and two feet apart from one another, cotton stuffing torn from a few of the purple, matted seats. Wooden pillars, twelve in all, revealed peeled paint and chipped wood. The pillars were three feet away from the far ends of the pews. Stained glass tales of the Thaynes shined the outside sun’s lights onto the floors in the three feet between each pillar. Aside from the windows themselves, the entire sanctuary appeared darkened. The quiet was odd, and more than likely a result of the four inch thick mahogany double doors twenty feet in front of the telepath.

Sighing aloud, Sei began to walk down the red carpet leading towards the exit. He had spent far too much time in here already, had left his men to their own devices for too long. While he enjoyed the fact that his soldiers respected his request to be alone, the strategist grew worried that the silent outside might reveal enemy troops standing over the bodies of his loyalists.

Sei paused about half way down the aisle, turning back to look at the podium that a preacher would typically sing praises of their Gods to his attentive audience. There was some sort of wrong feeling to being in here now, a foreboding feeling that sent shivers all the way down the Mystic’s spine. He reached to his back, drawing out the twin swords that he had grown so accustomed to using, the blades stained red with the blood of his foes. The Mystic hated that he had to fight once more, had to cover more of his gray gi and white cloths with crimson splashes, but it seemed that Phoenix Ascendant had not been as good in their intentions as they had claimed.

“You can come out….assassin.” Sei ‘spoke’ to the whole room; any soul who remained in the church would hear the words. It was dangerous to try hiding from a telepath, dangerous still to get between a warrior and his goals, and most dangerous to attempt to take the life of a man who watching everything around him fall apart.

And unfortunately for whomever this assassin was, Sei Orlouge was all of these things.

[Max Dirks]

Dirks moved like a snake, taking cover behind barrels, troths, and anything else he could find as he made his way through the area. In doing so, he learned two valuable things: one, he was still in Radasanth and two, it wasn’t deserted at all. Almost every building he ran by had several people inside, usually cowering when he flashed his weapons. It appeared that there really was a war, and it had arrived incredibly quickly. Even when the Rangers battled the Empire, people still went about their businesses. Now, they were locked in their homes, hidden and scared.

The more Dirks saw, the more he believed the deceased interrogator. Aside from the Rangers, the only other organization within Corone with enough power to pull off an overthrow of the Empire was the Ixian Knights. That is, unless some other country had invaded. Dirks couldn’t grasp Sei’s motivations for war though. An overthrow of a country, particularly one that keeps people scared, seemed contrary to the Ixian’s righteous mantra. It seemed like something a more vicious group—like Malice—would do. If this was really the cherub’s doing, Dirks was pissed that he didn’t ask him to join.

Radasanth had a large population, but it had little sprawl. Within a short amount of time, Dirks had passed the bazaar, city hall, the Silver Tavern, and other popular areas of the city. Only a few people were out and about, and most were armed to the teeth like Dirks. The criminal paid them little heed though. Whether they were Ixian, Empire, or Ranger, if they made a move against Dirks they would be dead before they could blink.

Eventually Dirks came upon the Thayne church. It stood in all its glory near the center of the city. When he arrived, he stopped. If he was running a war, he would have chosen the most central location as a base of operations. On a Radasanth map, that was this church. However, it didn’t seem like a base of operations. This area of the city was unusually quiet as well. There were no guards, no bodies, and generally no people.

Dirks was about to turn around and head back through the bazaar when he heard a booming voice. Not a voice, but rather a thought in his head. Immediately he recognized it as Sei’s. Sei was in the church, and was probably using some psycho-kinesis mumbo-jumbo to detect that Dirks had approached the area. Dirks wondered if he could be using that same power to keep the citizens in their homes…

Then Dirks stopped thinking. He rushed across the square to the church, careful not to announce his presence. When he arrived at the double doors to the church he stopped, pulled out both of his guns and proceeded to kick the doors apart. He rushed through the lobby and into the steeple.

“Even worse,” he said. When he was sure Sei recognized him, he continued, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” His guns were both centered on the cherub's head.

[Poison]

The vampiress stayed where she was even as the man’s voice echoed in her head. She recognized him easily enough and was silently cursing her luck. She had heard many things about the great Sei Orlouge. None of them encouraged her to the idea of facing him head on. No, she’d much rather slip a poison into his food or drink, then go after him with a blade.

She started to move forward then another man stepped into the church. She froze in place when she saw that the other man carried guns.

Oh no, I’m not paid enough to go against guns. I’ll find someone else to target.

Using her shadow traveling she slid through the wall of the church and jumped to the ground. Immediately she dashed to the shadows and worked her way to the street. She could see all of the main buildings of the village from here, but she wasn’t sure where to go next.

I suppose the City Hall is as good a place as any…

((moving out of Church))

[Lionheart]

((James arrives from the Streets))

James hustled through the village’s empty streets, his rapid pace causing his armor to chime his position to any interested party. A lesser man would be forced to take a slower pace by the heavy field plate, but long hours spent bearing its familiar weight meant that it was more like a second skin to James than a suit of armor. He couldn’t keep the pace up forever, but he was determined to catch up to the man who he had only a few minutes before seen moving in this direction. He wasn’t exactly sure why he was doing so, other than the dead body he had found as the man’s handiwork, but there was something about him that had piqued James’ instincts.

Unfortunately for the knight, there seemed to be no signs of the man on either the main thoroughfare that he was on or any of the side streets that he had passed. James paused in an open square across from the Church of the Thayne to catch his breath, making a mental note to add one to the tally of drinks that he owed his old trainer Connell when their spirits next met. The likeliness of finding the man he had seen slinking this way was growing fainter and fainter with each passing breath, and James was just about to give up his search and return back the way he came when he heard a loud crash from inside the church.

The noise brought a scowl to James’ face. He, like all Amran knights, was a deeply religious man. Countless hours of his instruction had been focused around prayer and study of the Amran protector spirits, and while he was no follower of the Coronian Thayne, desecration of any holy site left a bitter taste in his mouth. And if that weren’t enough, the Church of the Thayne had been where he had sent the assassin known as Poison. James didn’t particularly enjoy employing assassins but was smart enough to know that, outnumbered as they were, they couldn’t really afford to turn down any offer of help. Besides, while it seemed blasphemous to send the assassin to monitor the church, James had felt that even the would-be tyrant Sei Orlouge would have more piety than to attack the temple of his own gods. Had things gone as expected, Poison would have been both safe and safely off of the front lines. James hefted his broadsword and ran towards the church. This conflict, like anything else having to do with war, seemed to want to defy all expectations.

Entering the church, James was stunned to find himself face to face not only with the man he had been chasing, but with the leader of the Ixian Knights himself. His mind skipped a quick beat as he thought, but quickly regained its track.

“I thank you for apprehending this war criminal,” he said to his mysterious stranger. The two objects that the man held towards Sei, weapons of some sort that James was unfamiliar with but who’s handiwork he had already become acquainted didn’t seem to waver in the slightest. Not surprising given the reputation of the Ixian Knights’ leader.

Taking the man’s lead, James pointed his own weapon at the orange haired mystic. The blade seemed to be a part of the knight, a firm, unwavering symbol of justice. “And now Sei Orlouge, in the name of Corone and the thousands of innocent lives that your ruthless aggression has already claimed, I command you to put your weapons down and surrender.”

[Amber Eyes]

((Kyla arrives at church))

A single thought filled her mind, take me where I'm needed most The cool damp air seemed to swaddle her and in any other situation she would have found it comforting, but this war had already taken her comfort and instead the young girl could only feel the hairs on the back of her neck standing at attention. A shiver ran up her spine as she took a couple steps into the dark room before her. Kyla did not notice the ornate decorations meant to honor the Thaynes, nor did she count the pews in their two even columns. She took no note of the light from the stained glass making rainbows across the wooden floor. None of the things seemed to matter much at the moment. What Kyla Orlouge did notice was two men, weapons drawn, making quite possibly the biggest mistake of their lives.

"I told you to check on the others Kylana" Her uncle's voice filled her mind.

The girl took another step, placing herself in the open. She spoke aloud, ready to announce her presence. "Well, I just wanted to go where I was needed most, I suppose having several guns pointed at your face would fall into that category."

Kyla squeezed her left hand, feeling the blades of Sophia's Mane exiting the glove. Her right hand was filled with a short sword in a moment and she could feel the cool power of the shadow sword begging to be used. She looked between the three men, waiting for her move.

"Kyla, I'd like you to meet Anita's godfather, Max Dirks, but seeing as I have apparently done something to upset him and you are rather inappropriately dressed I am afraid it will have to wait for another time

The amusement in Sei's 'voice' made the girl smile. "Is he the handsome one with the guns? Or the handsome one with the sword? Being Anita's godfather doesn't make us related right?" She mused back.

"That's quite enough of that, and he is the handso....he's the one with the guns."

The mystic bit her lip again and looked directly at Max Dirks before she sent her message to Sei.

"So...I'm assuming a mystic bomb would be a bad idea?

[Silence Sei]

“Very.” Sei commented only to his relative. Suffice it to say, the mute was surprised to see Max Dirks of all people staring at him through the barrels of his guns. Sei looked to his friend with a look of concern. Such behavior was expected of the gunman, who more often than not would butt heads verbally with the Ixian leader. The irrational activities of his rival was the sole reason Sei had not attempted to recruit him to the cause, and attempted to keep any information about the war quiet around areas Max had frequented. He was just too dangerous a character to recruit to the cause.

Now, Dirks’ accomplice was easily somebody from Phoenix Ascendant. Just the fact that this man was claiming that Sei possessed ‘ruthless aggression’ was a statement that only a drunk would make. Sei Orlouge was the ‘Hero of Radasanth’; he would have never hurt someone who did not deserve it. Sei could gather that from the stranger thanking Dirks that his rival was acting of his own accord. Sei looked to the man, his eyes carrying with them a truth and determination that few others possessed.

“I do not know you, sir,” Sei spoke into the man’s mind, though the others in the holy place could hear him, “but the fact that you would come into the House of the Thayne and threaten me begs the question on who the real war criminal is.” As Sei spoke, a soft blue glow began to emanate from the swords he held in each hand, their warmth signifying the use of their special ability. Beside Kyla, several blue ‘strings’ began to form a humanoid shape. The wiry shape quickly grey bones, nerves, muscles and flesh, until it had formed a fully structured clone of Sei.

“Kyla, take my ‘twin’ to whoever needs it, and then you may come back.” The mute spoke as if his niece needed his permission to go where she wanted. He had no time to argue with the girl, what with two people at his throats questioning him. “Dirks, I’ll explain everything in time, I promise. You just have to trust me for now, though. As for you, Mr. Knight, I would suggest that you leave this place now. I do not wish to bring harm to you, so please just leave. I am sure that you wish not to shed blood any more than I do.”

Sei’s eyes shifted back to Dirks, the mute’s eyes widening a bit. The motion was very brief, but the mute had seen it just in time to catch it. The gunslinger had glared quickly towards James, his emerald eyes possessing that look that Sei was all too familiar with. That same look had gotten the mute shot at more often than not. That look that paved the road to damnation with good intentions. Sei quickly mouthed the word ‘Don’t!’ to Dirks, his mind not reacting quick enough to deliver the message.

And in those few seconds, Max Dirks would once again become a pain in Sei Orlouge’s ass.

[Max Dirks]

The church was now a zoo. Quick glances revealed that Dirks had been joined by the knight from the street and a lovely young woman that somewhat resembled his god-daughter, Anita. Dirks did a double take, temporarily lowering his weapons. She wasn't Anita, but she was definitely an Orlouge. Was that Sei’s other daughter, Kyla?

Sei soon bludgeoned Dirks with more “thoughts,” causing him to snap back into the fray. Dirks quickly made an L with his arms, aiming his ‘twin’ Beretta at Sei and his ‘patented’ Beretta at the mysterious knight. He ignored the woman for the time being. If there were any sudden movements, Dirks could still fire off successive shots that would easily penetrate either Orlouge's typical glass shield spell.

Dirks frowned as he watched Sei diffuse the situation. First, Sei’s ridiculous doppleganger materialized behind him, confirming to Dirks that the young woman was in fact Sei’s other daughter, Kyla. Sei was wise to protect her from him.

Then, after Sei finished “talking”, Dirks did, in fact, briefly glance at the knight. He did, in fact, see Sei attempt to mouth a warning to him, but he didn’t listen. “Yeah, well, I do.” Dirks responded to Sei. Within a breath, Dirks had closed the gap between himself and the knight. Instead of firing his gun though—which probably wouldn't have penetrated the intruder's armor—he brought his right hand up and reared the butt of his ‘patented’ Beretta across the man’s helmet. If Dirks couldn’t kill him, he would at least try to knock him out.

“Sorry, this is a private conversation.”

[Lionheart]

Being well versed in theological matters was an expectation of all Amran knights. But while many of James’ peers had memorized only enough of their spiritual scriptures to get them through their Accolades, James had spent many hours sequestered in a variety of churches, learning the ways of the warrior priest. After all, if something was worth doing it was worth doing right. Being intimately familiar with a wide range of holy venues, James had come to the conclusion that there were three basic architectural designs required if a church was to be successful. First was location. While there was a certain percentage of people who would trudge through a freezing swamp to hear their weekly sermons, most people were far more likely to attend church if it was easily accessible. Second was adequate seating. While having a “standing room only” crowd was something every preacher wanted to see, losing members of your congregation because there wasn’t enough places to sit was folly. And the third thing a church needed to be successful was to be built in such a way that it carried your words to the teeming masses.

Fortunately for the Amran knight, fervent sermons weren’t the only sounds that carried well inside the Church of the Thayne. While many might have called James a fool for adhering to the more honorable parts of knightly conduct, the former High General of Amra was anything but. The stranger moved fast, crossing the gap between them far faster than James could have been even without his armor, but his speed meant a tradeoff in stealth. He was upon the knight in an instant, but the slap of his feet on the flagstones echoed in front of him like a herald trumpeting his arrival.

James stepped away from the stranger, bringing his heavy shield around to bat away at the man’s attack. A heavy clash of steel on steel rang throughout the chamber as the man’s hand weapon connected with the lion insignia in the center of James’s shield. From what he could tell, the attack had been aimed at the back of his unprotected head, and James had no desire to wind up with the contents of his head splayed over the fine velvet rug running up the church’s center aisle. While James could have continued his block up with a counterattack of his own, the ambush meant that he was now outnumbered four to one and he couldn’t afford to lose focus on the doppelganger of Sei Orlouge and the young woman who had materialized in the chapel out of thin air.

Retreating a couple of steps, James could only hope that the strike of his shield on the stranger’s hand weapon had been jarring enough to at least numb the man’s hand.

“You proclaim that you wish to bring no harm nor shed blood and yet both your own blades have already been whetted this day and here I find myself ambushed.” James stepped back, putting even more distance between him and his assailants while covering his back against one of the Thayne statues which flanked the entry hall.

To the stranger he said, giving the man a hard glare, “you are mistaken sir. This man removed all privacy from this conversation when his ‘army’ ransacked the village of Heresford three days ago and put three hundred men, women, and children to the sword for daring to side with the Empire that had thus far defended them.”

A righteous fervor built in James tone until his words filled the building with forceful impact, “since there are none else here to decry your villainy Sei Orlouge, I declare upon my honor that I will see you and yours punished for your blasphemies!”

He would likely die here, James knew, but he could not run, could not seek to ensure his own safety while there were those that still needed him to stand up for them. Four on one, he sighed, shifting his attention to the woman and the magical clone. Though they both appeared to be formidable, they looked less so than the couple on the other side of the aisle.

James made a prayer to Leon to forgive him for not being able to save all of the innocent lives that had been put under his stewardship by the necessity of war. “For the lion,” he roared the battle cry of Amra and made his decision, charging forwards.

[Silence Sei]

Sei’s eyes widened as the accusations flew with tongues sharper than any blade. He was equally mortified to see Dirks' pistol whip attack so easily swatted away, the gunslinger dropping his weapon of choice and standing dazed for a moment. Who exactly was this mysterious fighter?

The mute had never even heard of the village of Heresford. In fact, his whole strategy for the war had been made in two parts, with half of his army traveling the underground tunnels of Sei’s Tomb to enter the middle of Radasanth, while the other half traveled through each major city (save Akashima) rallying support and stopping for supplies. Attacks from within the city and outside of its walls made entering the capital easy for the Ixian Knights. Now, this knight had some sort of false information regarding Sei’s strategy?

Phoenix Ascendant truly was primarily made up of drunks with extreme delusions.

"Now wait just a--"

"Quiet, Kyla!" Sei 'shouted' to his family almost in unison with his look-a-like. As shocked at the mute was by this ‘revelation’, once his eyes shifted over to his relative, he could see that she shared a similar look of surprise. She had traveled with her adoptive father for the majority of the journey, and any ‘ransacking’ would have surely taken enough time for Kyla to notice such strange behavior from her kin. It was in these moments that the knight who the telepath had been following so closely looked like he was preparing something, but not towards Sei or Dirks.

He’s going to kill her, you know

The thought was that of Max Dirks. Apparently the rouge had figured out Sei’s telepathic abilities enough to send a silent message to him. However, what the sly ‘tone’ of the thought was suggesting, and here of all places. It was, to say the least, an atrocity.

“Max, we are in a church!”

That’s not stopping him from going after your cute friend over there. Cherub, if you’re not gonna save her, give me one of your swords and I’ll do it myself

Sei shook his head, his eyes shifting towards the Ascendant representative to see his plan. The man began to run towards Sei’s niece, who still seemed to be reeling from the insane lies that rolled off the stranger’s tongue. With each of the drunkard's steps upon the red carpet, Sei grew more worried for the young woman. His eyes looked quickly towards Dirks, while pointing his sword towards his clone and ‘daughter’. This light motion would protect Kyla enough to gain her bearings, and hopefully buy her enough time to escape.

However, Sei’s ‘twin’ had seemingly decided that Sei swallowed hard, though deep inside the mute understood the motivations behind the doppelganger’s actions. If he had allowed Kyla to die, with the last words being the ridiculous battle cry that sent a large echo through the building, he would never forgive himself. Perhaps that was why Sei did not react when he saw the clone throw the long sword version of the Gemini pair towards the running warrior.

[Max Dirks]

Dirks treated Sei’s silence as his assent. It was clear that this pesky interloper would have to die before Dirks and Sei could hash it out. With his right hand useless, Dirks searched for something—anything—that he could use to pre-maturely trigger Kyla’s ‘Orlouge Defense Spell.’ He couldn’t fire his ‘twin’ Beretta because the bullets would pierce the glass and he didn’t he want to throw the gun either, as that would leave him practically defenseless. Instead, he settled on the only thing within his grasp light enough to throw with his left hand: a bible, wedged into a pew in front of him.

Ithermoss is going to roll in his grave, Dirks thought. He quickly holstered his ‘twin’ Beretta and grabbed the bible. With an awkward left handed windup, Dirks threw the bible at Kyla then dove over the pew. The bible immediately caught air resistance and burst open. Dirks frowned. There was no way it was going to hit her, but would it come close enough to trigger the Mystic Protection? The bible landed on the ground in front of Kyla with a thump. There was excruciatingly short pause, then finally a crack.

Dirks had heard the crack a hundred times before. Still rushing down the aisle, and jumping over pews to catch the knight, Dirks pulled his trench coat over his face. He was met with hundreds of pricks on his arm, some small, some large. Glass dug into his coat, but it was thick enough to prevent any permanent damage to his swollen face. When the glass storm subsided he lowered his coat.

“Blade!” Dirks yelled at Sei in midstride. The criminal took a short glance at the Mystic, but he was too busy directing some ridiculous protection spell on his daughter. “Blade!” he yelled again. Damn it, Dirks thought. He meant to kill the intruder, but would have to settle for tackling him instead. That is, until he saw Sei’s doppleganger move into action.

It was not the running knight that was the target of the doppleganger’s throw, but rather the running warrior behind him. Dirks caught the Gemini blade with his left hand mid-stride. It was far lighter than his own katanas. At the last minute, as he approached Kyla, the knight and the doppleganger, Dirks slid on the ground and slammed the blade upwards attempting to impale the knight from the lower back to the heart.

Between a glass storm, a feigned throw attack, and an all out assault by Dirks, this was not the knight’s lucky day.

[Lionheart]

Ironically, it was the thrown sword that saved James’ life.

The Amran had never quite understood why the people of Corone seemed to favor two-weapon fighting so much. He had could name several knights who chose to fight in this manner, true, such as Sir Bregan with his twin swords and Sir Doerth who wielded a warhammer and pick, but he had never seen a knight who favored two-weapons that lasted more than a matter of minutes in the melee, let alone won one of the tournaments. Then again, James thought as he lifted his kite shield to ward off the long sword thrown by Sei’s twin, the melee tournament had never been his forte.

Throwing his shield up had the effect of slowing James’ assault, as even in his fatalistic mood wasn’t enthusiastic about charging headlong into his enemy while blinded by a wall of steel. It also had the effect of effectively shielding him from the storm of glass shards that suddenly exploded out against him from nowhere. While he didn’t know which opponent was the source of the glass scratching harmlessly against his armor, he knew that magic had to be involved. After all, one didn’t just encounter shattered fragments of glass on the battlefield on a regular basis. Magic added another element to this combat, he realized, plummeting his chances for survival even farther from sight. While he had been trained to face the users of magic in battle, the sheer possibilities available to a truly powerful mage made preparations impossible.

The cry of “blade” caught his attention and James turned his head just in time to see the stranger pluck Sei’s sword from the air with an elegant grace only to drop to the floor in an attempt to slide under James’ guard. Had he not raised his shield and slowed his pace, he would not only have been struck by the force of the glass spell unleashed against him, but would also have been left completely defenseless against this backstabbing attempt.

“Cur!” he spat, slapping his own blade black to knock the stranger’s attack aside. His boots slapped heavily on the stone as he shifted momentum and swung back around, and dropped to one knee, driving the pointed end of his kite shield down at the stranger.

The funny thing about a shield was that it could also be used as a weapon.

[Silence Sei]

Sei breathed a sigh of relief as he watched Dirks attempt to rescue his niece. Relief quickly turned into fear once again, however, as the knight raised a counter-attack towards the gun slinger. While Sei avoided much of the glass from Mystic Protection, the mute did suffer a few scrapes along his cheeks, growing a fine blue line of blood. A few torn pieces of Sei’s grey karate gi also showed signs of being hit by the spell. It seemed, however, that everyone else in the church had now become focused on one another.

Sei was quite patient when it came to a lot of things. Attacking someone in a church, attacking one of his family members, even accusing him of something he had no hand in. All of these things Sei could tolerate, but when the warrior knight refused to let up his assault, despite being heavily outnumbered and over powered, Sei had seen just about enough. The telepath sheathed both of his Gemini Blades and began a new strategy

The mute raised his hand and closed his eyes, trying to fend off the sun’s glare off of his opponent’s shield. While the mute did not have to concentrate too terribly hard, he had to make sure he was at least in the right general area of his foe. He did not wish to hit Max Dirks with the coming psychic assault. The strategist took a deep breath as he poured some of his telepathic powers into the Phoenix Ascendant member. Granted, it wasn’t enough to actually give the knight any powers, but it should have been just enough to enter his mind.

The stale air of the church wafted through his nostrils once more, helping the orange haired warrior concentrate. Sei bit his bottom lip, just enough to draw more azure liquid within his mouth. The heat of battle always made the Mystic not realize his own strength, even in something as controllable as his teeth. His Sound of Madness attack was aimed steady and true, and if it worked on the drunken juggernaut in the church, he would start hearing voices, some familiar, some unfamiliar; declarations of love and hate. There would be voices of evil wizards and their creations, mentors and mercenaries, relatives and unknown soldiers, all echoing through his mind as if the man had placed his head in a steel bucket and proceeded to beat on it with a stick.

After all, there’s no escape from the voices in your head.

[Max Dirks]

“Argh,” Dirks cried as the knight managed to deflect his attack once more. Unable to maintain his grip on the weapon, Dirks sent the Gemini Blade flying toward a nearby pew. It bounced off, and dropped five feet away from Dirks’ feet. In an instant the knight was already bearing down on the criminal with the edge of his shield. Dirks barely had enough time to throw up his hands and catch the ‘kite’ edges of the shield before it slit his throat. However, the maneuver came at a cost. The sharp shield began cutting into his hands as the two pushed against it, causing Dirks’ own blood to drop down onto his face. His vision became obscured.

Dirks gritted his teeth as he resisted his death, that is, until he heard a voice. It was very soft, like an angel whispering into an ear. Like a comforting voice in the middle of a storm, the woman ensured Dirks that everything would be fine. It did not take Dirks long to realize the voice belonged to Starlynn, the love of his life. “No,” Dirks cried out, turning his head to the side. Though his vision was blurred, he managed to see a bright hue emanating from where Sei was standing. Was the angel using some sort of telepathy against the knight? That had to be it, and Dirks must be receiving the residuals.

Instantly Dirks snapped back to attention. Slightly to his right, and possibly in reach, was a bright white object. Even with blood in his eyes he knew it to be doppleganger Sei’s mithril Gemini blade. With all the flexibility Dirks could muster, he started turning his body towards the sword while still under the pressure of the shield. Eventually he cradled it with his legs and pulled it towards his body. However, there was no way he was going to be able to let go of the shield without being sliced.

Instead, Dirks kicked the sword past the knight toward Kyla and the doppleganger. Dirks watched as Starlynn, or maybe it was Kyla, picked up the sword. Dirks couldn’t tell who it was anymore. She didn’t immediately attack though. “Do it,” Dirks yelled. As he screamed, Dirks grasped onto the shield even harder. This time though he was not trying to just ward it away, but also hold it in place. “Kill the fucking bastard, already!”

[Amber Eyes]

Kyla's breathing grew quick as she tried to wrap her head around all that was happening. She had been so stunned by the whirlwind of events that seemed to center around her that the girl had forgotten what she was doing. First there was the tense stand off between the people (did Sei really say the cute guy was Anita’s godfather?), then there was an attack with a gun, a dodge, a charge, and then things just got hectic. A bible, Mystic Protection, a sword being thrown. Kyla’s eyes could barely keep up with all of the quick actions around her.

“Kyla!” Sei’s voice seemed to bark at the girl, and she turned her attention to him. Sei seemed to be a little busy concentrating on the armored man and Kyla realized it wasn't him who 'spoke'. The young mystic shifted her eyes towards the other Sei, the one created by the Gemini Blades. “Kyla, we need to get out of here and help the others. We’re just two more targets here!”

“But Sei,” Kyla had forgotten about the mental loop, or maybe she just wasn’t sure it applied to a being who just joined the battle. “I mean, you, and the other guy---“

“Are more than capable of handling themselves, now come on!” The clone took a hold of Kyla’s hand. She gulped and nodded, turning around to look at both of the men fighting this savagely strong knight one last time. Sei was still concentrating on his opponent, but the other guy, Dirks, he was looking straight at the young lady. Both Kyla and the other Sei’s feet began to sink into the floor, into the shadows that covered most of the church.

It was at this point that Kyla realized she still held the sword that Dirks had kicked to her a moment ago. His pleas to kill the knight had fallen on deaf ears, Kyla simply looking towards the gunman as she handed the blade back to the doppelganger Sei. She looked towards Max Dirks, the rejection in his face as he watched his last hope start to fade away. As over half of Kyla disappeared into the darkness, she closed her eyes, and a white orb appeared from behind the man assaulting both her uncle and her sister’s godfather. Everything below Kyla’s neck had melded into the ground when an inky black hand began to grab the white ball, squeezing it tighter and tighter. The ball of light magic grew as compact as it could when Kyla's head was all that remained, just long enough to send a knowing wink in Max Dirks' direction. By the time Kyla’s head had disappeared from her shadow step; her mystic bomb would go off, hopefully finishing the knight off.

Kyla just prayed that Max Dirks was strong enough to take the attack. Why wouldn’t he be? He was, after all, ‘related’ to the Orlouge family.

((Kyla Shadow-steps from the Church to City Hall with Sei's doppelganger))

[Lionheart]

It started small, a panicked worrying from the stranger beneath him that James could almost write off as actually being said. But then he heard the stammering panic from the woman, Sei’s daughter he found, and from there the dropped upon his mind like a sack of rocks. He couldn’t stop the flood of voices talking in his head, hearing every worry, every laugh, every hope and fear and dream of those around him. They came and went, ebbing and flowing through his mind like the tides, but there was one that cut through them all.

James heard the stranger’s cry, heard the command to kill him clearly through the cacophonic din coursing through his consciousness. He was in a precarious position, assaulted by some insidious magic and unable to think properly. There was one foe beneath him, at his mercy, but more just beyond, commanded to strike and waiting for the opportunity. James didn’t expect to live through the battle but he knew that he couldn’t merely trade his life for that of some superficial stranger fighting on Sei’s behalf.

Growling, James rose and pulled away from the stranger, heaving his sword and shield with him. The act threw the knight off balance, and he could only throw his shield up as he staggered back. James could see the church in front of him, could see what was going on around him, but thanks to the multitude of voices in his head, his mind simply couldn’t grasp what was going on.

”Focus, whelp!” A thought, a memory from ages past, cut through the voices. ”How can you expect to lead when you can’t keep your wits about you in battle.” James knew the voice, though the speaker was long dead. The words were ones that had been drummed into him by Connall as the old mercenary drilled him in the ways of war, time and time again. And as always, the words were the truth.

James breathed deeply, focusing. He knew that the parade of voices in his head was no worse than the tumultuous crash of the many battlefields he had fought on. A bit more personal, perhaps, but it was nothing that could match the sheer mind-numbing chaos of being on the front lines when two armies met. With will, experience, and training, James shoved aside the voices, and steeled his sword arm.

And then the magical explosion happened.

The force of the blast struck James’ outstretched shield and buckled the knight’s arm, slamming him into the wall. His armor absorbed most of the force, though the back of it was a bit tighter and worse for the wear in the spot that he had struck the stone. The real pain came from the back of his head, cut and bleeding where it too had impacted the stone.

James groaned a bit, breathing heavily, and tried to focus as the room spun about him.

[Abomination]

((Draug arrives from the Streets))

Rather than enter through the front door, Draug climbed up the side of the building, using the various protruding stones as leverage to get to the top. He had to climb one of the walls that did not have windows, since most of them were blown out by the blast. As he reached the top, he was on some sort of peaked roof, with a tiny room near the top where the bell resided. Crawling on all fours toward the bell, he entered through one of the openings, making his way down a staircase that accompanied the bell. While the stairs descended all the way to the sanctuary, there was an opening to the side of the stairs that lead to the rafters. As he took some careful steps onto them, he saw what was going on below.

If he could feel extreme joy, he would be expressing it. Down there was none other than the big man himself, Silence Sei, General of Generals. Draug felt his fingers shake with anticipation, and felt two daggers pull themselves out of his wrists, being covered in blood due to violently exiting his body. The handles fell into his hands, and as he aimed them he took note of the other two in the room. One of them was a man he did not recognize, but the other was James Alexander, one of members of Phoenix Ascendant. He didn't look like he was in a very good condition. While Draug felt no particular loyalty to him, it was in his best interest to go after the strongest opponent first. He could always steal body parts from all three of them later.

Aiming carefully, he threw one of the daggers down at Sei's head, while the other was aimed at Max Dirks.

[Silence Sei]

When Sei had seen Kyla disappear into the shadows, leaving behind a present for their opponent, his eyes widened. The Mystic knew first hand what the results of combining his races two trademark magics together would result i,; Kyla had almost suffered that fate herself if not for Sei’s genius older brother. The mute turned his back towards the fight at hand, trying to shield himself from the coming blast.

Blast was an understatement.

The thunderous booming of the Mystic Bomb shattered nearly every one of the stained glass windows, covering the carpet with jagged makeshift caltrops. One of the pews that had not been bolted down as well as the others sailed over the mute’s head, crashing into the doorway before collapsing onto the ground in worse condition than it had been in. The two pews that had been closest to the explosion were absolutely decimated, literally ripped apart. Bible pages and white stuffing slowly floated down to the ground,

Luckily for Sei himself, the mute had seemingly been far enough away from the blast to remain rather unscathed. The mute rose up, his eyes trying to look past the smoke to search for his friend and their seemingly unstoppable foe, only to find neither. Furthermore, there was now a loud ringing in both of the Mystic ears, causing a slight disoriented feeling. The smell of the smoke quickly filled his nostrils, causing a loud cough to come from his person.

The smoke began to clear, and Sei took on a look of disbelief when he saw the form of the knight against the wall. At the moment, he seemed to be motionless. Could Kyla have taken out the enemy with the last attack? Sei was cautious about attempting to approach the man; he had taken such debilitating blows and kept pushing through. No, if this drunken warrior was still alive, he would be better detained.

Sei lifted his hand once more, his breathing becoming heavy and labored. The ringing in his ears began to subside, replaced by the groaning of someone, most likely his nemesis. With any luck, the inebriated fighter would not have time to react to the next move. From out of the walls above the Ascendant warrior, two long strands of seaweed busted forth, sending bits of rubbles flying outward. The seaweed shot downwards, an attempt to wrap around under the man’s arms and keep him in place. This was one of the mute’s lesser used spells, Octopus’ Garden. Whether or not the seaweed latched onto its prey, several large rocks would start raining in the plants vicinity, flying at uncanny speeds fast enough to knock a man’s head off if he should be so unlucky.

Sei never got the chance to see the rain of stones come forth, however, as his attention became diverted to the faint sound of glass shattering all around his person. The mute looked around quickly, his eyes shifting upwards to find a dagger hanging in mid-air, inches from his forehead. The cracks all around his form expanded and exploded once more, sending another danger not only towards the hopefully incapacitated knight, but also for anyone else still in the room. As the glass shards were sent flying, the dagger began to descend harmlessly to the ground, Sei reaching out his hand and taking the blade before it completed its drop.

There was only one place where the dagger could have come from, judging from the angle at which it was positioned. As such, Sei knelt down, jumping into the air with all the force he could muster. As he did so, two large butterfly wings sprouted from the Mystic’s spine, the extra appendages sliding out from the two distinct large slits located at the back of Sei’s clothing. The wings pushed him further into the air, as well as pushed the smoke away from his person as he flew towards the rafters.

He landed on the wooden beams above in a matter of a few seconds, his eyes slowly creeping over to anything out of the ordinary. He had not expected to find ‘him’ here. The man who helped Cassandra Remi invade Ixian Castle, the creature that helped lay siege to an innocent village, the filthy monster that had killed one of Sei’s closest allies and friends. Gripping the dagger even tighter, Sei realized now who the real ‘monsters’ of this war were, who had truly thrown in their lot with the demons.

And it wasn’t the Ixian Knights.

[Max Dirks]

Dirks swore as the knight tore the shield from his grip. Now free of the knight’s weight, Dirks took the next moment to wipe the blood out of his eyes with his sleeve. When he reopened his eyes the knight had moved and Dirks had a clear view of the disappearing Kyla. He watched intently as the mystic slowly vanished and the white light grew smaller and brighter in her stead. Then, she winked. “Oh shit, that can’t be good!” Dirks exclaimed. He immediately rolled to his right three times and took shelter under the nearby pew. Just as he pulled his bleeding hands over his head, all hell broke loose in the church.

With little area for his body to travel, the force of the explosion shot Dirks forward under the pew. He banged his back against the bottom of the kneeler several times before coming to a stop when his head crashed into the edge of the pew. To make matters worse, the blast kicked up most of the remnants of Kyla’s shield spell, sending another barrage of glass into Dirks’ exposed right side. Unwilling to expose his body to anymore pain, Dirks remained motionless under the pew until the rumbling stopped.

After Dirks counted at least three seconds between shatters, he turned his head to the right to inspect the carnage. Near the epicenter of the blast, pews had been completely ripped apart and scattered across the church. Above him, nearly every stained glass window had been broken. Bibles, songbooks, and loose paper rained down everywhere from above. Dirks could still not see Sei, but he did make out the knight, slammed against the far wall, but largely intact.

I need to get some better armor, Dirks grunted to himself. Still shaken, Dirks reached his right hand under his body and felt around for his ‘twin’ Beretta. It was there, still latched in its holster. Dirks slipped the gun free and slid it along the ground to his side. Ignoring all the pain from the cuts the kite shield had created, Dirks lifted the gun and took aim at the wayward knight. It was then that he noticed them: green tendrils encircling the knight. Was this one of the cherub’s new powers or had someone else entered the fray?

Whatever their source, the tendrils appeared to be attempting to trap the knight and Dirks was poised to use this to his advantage. With a deep breath, Dirks fired six rounds at the knight. No shot was perfect, as the kick of the gun caused unbearable pain to Dirks’ hand, but in this case they didn’t need to be. Even if the bullets didn’t hit the knight, they could prevent him from escaping the tendrils.

“Just die, you annoying rat.” Dirks yelled as he shot. He yelled so loud that he didn’t even hear Draug’s knife imbed itself in the pew above him.

[Abomination]

As the glass shards pierced through the openings in the rafters, Draug bent down to watch them pass by on other side of the wooden beam he was on. His right arm grew, extending in size as he waited for the danger to pass, but he stood back up when the leader of the Ixian Knights himself came up to greet him. He only knew of him from stolen memories and descriptions by Cult members. Nothing would give him the closest feeling to pleasure than being able to assimilate him, to learn the deepest secrets of the order. Those butterfly wings looked useful as well, maybe he could rip them off and add them to his collection. Sei's glare represented deep hate, as if Draug was the one who killed Stephanie and tortured Anita. Although, his mother Cassandra Remi was a part of him, so maybe the hate was not entirely unjustified.

Draug's mouth was slightly open, bending his head to the side as his tired eyes stared at the mystic. No matter how many possibilities ran through his mind, he couldn't find a way to win here. His mother certainly had many dark gifts to give him, but not until her reemergence. The next thing he knew, the same 'bang' sound he heard earlier resonated throughout the church a handful of times, causing his gaze to look in-between the rafters toward the helpless James. The Phoenix's escape was blocked, his death all but certain... Or was it? Draug's arm was now a few meters long, curled up in front of him. Letting his "ally" die was certainly not going to help him here. If anything, James would make a good meat shield. Lastly, the blast had weakened the church's sanctuary quite a bit. There were cracks in the walls, moreso around James' area after the gunshots. The Homunculus was certain of his plan now.

Pulling a dagger out of his throat with his non-extended left hand, he tossed it at Sei before jumping down between two beams. His long right arm gripped the edge of the beam, and most of the way down, the extension finally reached its limit as Draug's body was jerked forward, swinging towards James as he tried to maintain his grip and the beam shook violently. As he was swinging towards the knight, the beam finally snapped, sending him falling at full speed. He was about to slam his shoulder into the cracked wall from which the binding seaweed grew.

[Lionheart]

It was unfortunate that the voices in his head could not be drowned out by the concussive ringing that filled James’ ears following the blast. And both effects were exacerbated by how wildly the room spun around him.

James tried to block it out, tried to take stock of the injuries that his losing battle had thrust upon him, but all coherent thought slipped from his fingers like sand through an hourglass.

It was so hard to think …

It was so hard to think …

It was so hard to think …

”Focus,” Connall’s voice screamed in his mind, tearing through the muddled haze. Grumbling, James pushed it all aside and opened his eyes.

His shield was a battered mess, more akin to a burnt scrap of metal than a knight’s accoutrement. But though the edges were dented and curled, the hunk of metal still served as a means of protection, more or less. Breathing too was painful, a sign that his crushed breastplate squeezed a bit too lightly, another gift of the spell that had slammed into him. But that was the smallest of the problems facing the young Amran. The arm bound to his shield tingled numbly where his vambrace had been crushed upon his breastplate. The same couldn’t be said of the elbow above the vambrace, which screamed pain whenever James moved it. He tested it several times and, when he was sure it could still support his shield if needed, let it hang peacefully at his side.

Need to move, he thought, only to find himself grappled against the brick of the church’s wall. Twin strands of a plantlike material had bust from the wall behind him and bound him to the structure. James struggled against the strands to the extent that they allowed, and when that failed he slashed feebly at them with his sword, only to find that this too was useless.

So this is the end then, he sadly thought, closing his eyes and waiting for the inevitable. There was no malice in his heart, and while he felt regret that he could not do more he knew that at least he had maintained his honor in the face of dishonorable foes.

“Blessed Leon,” he muttered, lips barely moving, “watch us and guide us through the valley of sorrows. Take my spirit to your breast, golden lord, and see me safely at peace with the fathers and brothers that have travelled before me.”

Several ringing cracks echoed in the church, the same ones that had started him down this path. He knew not what it was that slammed into the brick around him, and in one instance, cracked into his breastplate as if a mule had kicked him in the bare chest, but it didn’t matter. The Prayer of the Lion’s Rest flowed unimpeded from his lips.

And then something bigger crashed into the wall next to him and the wall gave way, spilling both James and the weight backwards into open air.

((James and Draug move to the Streets))

Movement made with approval from Homunculus

[Max Dirks]

For Dirks, the next moments were a blur. Just after he fired there was a loud crack, and a mysterious creature swung down from the rafters towards the knight. However, rather than sweeping the knight to safety, the creature slammed him through the wall to the streets outside. Unable to determine if the creature was friend or foe, Dirks trained his Beretta at the hole. He would fire at anything that emerged from the smoke.

After a long minute, or five, as his head injuries gave him no sense of time, Dirks lowered his gun and breathed a sigh of relief. Slowly, the criminal forced himself to slide out from under the damaged pew. Once Dirks was on his feet he took a quick inventory of his injuries: a swollen eye, a broken nose, a massive headache, severe bruises and scratches all over his body, and severe lacerations on his hands where he had grasped the knight’s kite shield. In short, this was not how he expected to spend his day.

Content that he would survive, Dirks scanned the church. He saw no sign of Sei by the pulpit. By this time, the paper rain had ended. Torn bible and songbook pages were spread out all over the ground. In front of him, embedded into the cushion of the pew Dirks saw a small dagger. He reached over to pick it up when a sharp thought pierced his brain.

Don’t touch that! It carries a lethal disease!

Dirks jumped back from the dagger and looked to the ceiling, where Sei was slowly gliding down from the rafters to stand beside him. “Sei,” Dirks growled aloud. Sei, who on a whim decided to go to war with the Corone Empire; Sei, who ruined Dirks’ perfectly good hangover with a series of beatings and near death experiences; and above all, Sei, who didn’t have the gall to ask his best friend to help him.

Unable to contain his anger, Dirks raised his gun at the mystic’s head. He held the gun there for a few seconds until he knew he wasn’t going to be able to shoot. “Damn it Sei,” Dirks said, lowering his weapon. “Why the hell didn’t you ask me to join you?”

[Silence Sei]

Upon landing on the ground, Sei’s wings retracted into his back. His eyes shifted downwards as Dirks asked him the question he was hoping to avoid.

Out of all the attacks Sei had to watch today, that one simple question was the most devastating.

What could he tell him? The truth of it was that Max Dirks could not be trusted to walk Sei’s daughter across the street without propositioning her. How could he trust the gunslinger as a soldier? This was the same man who had held the bazaar hostage, who manipulated Sei in the scam that was the Dajas Pagoda, and who threatened the mute’s daughter when it looked like Sei might have a slim chance of winning the Cell.

Sei looked towards the dagger he was still holding from earlier. He had heard of Draug, the ‘son’ of Cassandra Remi. He had a disease that was infectious to most of the human population. However, being a Mystic, the effects on Sei would take far longer to work than they would on normal human physiology. While the mute would probably suffer symptoms of the infection later, he felt fine at the moment. He put the blade into the pocket of his grey pants, deciding that the medics of Ixian Castle might be able to draw an antidote or immunization for the virus.

Thinking about this was just a way for the psychic to not think about Max’s question. When he looked back towards the con man, Sei could see the stern determination in his friend’s eyes for an answer. “The truth is, Max,” There was some reluctance in Sei’s ‘voice’ as he spoke, “you’re already a wanted criminal. You murder people in cold blood, and to expose you to the rest of the world for my own agenda would have just been greedy.”

“Besides,” Sei added, and immediately regretted, “you haven’t been the same since Starlynn died.”

[Max Dirks]

“Don’t you dare say her name! If it weren’t for you…” Dirks trailed off. Part of him wanted to put a bullet through the mystic’s head right then and there, but he could not bear to move. Deep down, he knew Sei was right. Starlynn had died, and it had changed him. At first Dirks blamed Sei. She died while under his care and her death could've easily been prevented if the cherub had returned with her like Dirks asked, but it wasn’t his fault. Sei was right. Dirks was wanted, he was violent, manipulative, and downright evil. Simply by being with her, he put Starlynn at risk.

“Look,” Dirks finally said. “You’re an incredible tactician. No one doubts that. But that’s only when there is a clear line between good and evil, right and wrong. Corone exists in a dark shade of gray. To say the empire is evil is to say Thane gods will smite us for destroying their church. To say the Rangers are good...is just naïve.” Dirks turned away from Sei and paused.

“You need me, Sei. You need someone to do your dirty work. You need someone who operates exclusively in the gray, who can ensure your victory. I’ve done this countless times, and with the exception of to you, I’ve never lost.” Dirks turned back around. “So what do you say?”

Dirks’ crooked grin indicated clearly that he had ulterior motives, and that there was a major catch. Sei would know this too, but after witnessing the resiliency of knight and the resourcefulness of the knight’s ally, Sei really couldn’t afford to say no.

[Silence Sei]

Sei opened his mouth, prepared to move his lips top the words he sent through telepathy, when he was hit hard by a message. Judging from the ‘sound’ of the thought, it was Kyla, and from the urgency of it, she was in trouble.

Come, please.

Sei now realized that the time for his doppelganger to exist had expired. He would have to get near Kyla to summon the being once more. However, Dirks was still here, and the mute feared that if he attempted to leave the church without another word, there would be a new hole in the back of his head. Sei bit his lower lip as he thought on Dirks words.

Did Max Dirks really just admit he had lost to him? Max Dirks, who refused to even acknowledge that fight for so many years, finally conceded victory to the ‘Dragon of Drantrak’? Sei blinked, astonishment taking precedence over everything else that had happened. Dirks was right, Sei only saw the world as black and white, but Dirks, he could travel the small line where both colors existed.

“Fine, Dirks,” Sei said, haste in his voice, “I need your prowess to win this, to reclaim Corone. However, it’s not for the Rangers, it’s for the people. I’ll explain everything later, but right now I need to know what the catch is.” Sei was not a stupid man; he knew damn well that if Dirks was offering anything, he would want something in return. The mute’s knees bent a little, prepared to spring out no matter what Max Dirks asked of him

[Max Dirks]

“You know what I want…” Dirks responded. The crooked grin disappeared from his face. “I want Seth Dahlios. I want him unprotected, and I want a bullet from this gun between his eyes.” Though he didn’t have concrete proof, Dirks knew that General Dahlios, former leader of the NWO, was the one who killed Starlynn.

Sei hesitated. This wasn’t the first time that Dirks had accused Seth Dahlios of murder and through it all, Sei had defended his general fervently. But Dirks knew better. The NWO destroyed his home, stole his fortune, and taken everything that meant anything to him. Starlynn had been the icing on the cake for the group created solely to destroy Max Dirks. After a moment, Sei lowered his guard and appeared to assent when Dirks said, “And…”

“I want your blessing to date the daughter that nearly killed me.” Dirks referred to Kyla. “Powerful women apparently give me stability. And besides, she can clearly handle her own.” Dirks motioned to the cuts and bruises on his body caused by Kyla’s mystic bomb.

Sei looked defeated. In fact, he looked like he was somewhere else entirely. Very uncharacteristically of the mystic, he simply thought, Done and took flight. But, if you ever want to date my daughter, we need to get to the town hall immediately. His pace and the disturbed look on his face indicated that Kyla was in dire need of assistance. Dirks simply nodded, and Sei flew continued to fly upwards until he was at one of the broken windows. There he stopped, turned and thought.

And it’s her choice, no matter what. Then Sei was gone.

((Bunnies between Sei and Dirks are approved. Sei has exited the church to the streets.))

[Max Dirks]

Dirks watched the mystic depart then scanned the area. Buried somewhere in this mess was his ‘patented’ Beretta 950, and Dirks would not leave his baby behind. Starting from the door of the church, Dirks retraced the steps he took when he entered to where the knight had knocked the weapon free. When he arrived at his destination, he started kicking aside paper, loose wood, and dust until he found his prize. “Hello baby,” Dirks said, picking up the gun. He brushed it off, gave it light kiss, and placed it in its chest holster.

With his gun recovered, Dirks took one last look at the church before heading to City Hall. His eyes stopped at the pulpit. There, two jars stood erect as though no Mystic Bomb had blasted through the church. It was true that they were far from the epicenter, but other jars, vases, and papers in that area had been knocked over in the explosion. Curious, Dirks made his way across the rubble to examine the jars. Inside both of them was a thick liquid. Dirks ran his finger through the liquid and quickly tasted it. He immediately spit it out.

“Oil,” Dirks mumbled. He paused for a moment, and then he got an idea. Surely City Hall would be more of the same: pesky knights, creepy imps, and sadistic angels that would fight to their last breath and be nearly impossible to kill head on. So why not set a trap? With a smirk, Dirks started looking around the pulpit for a travel-sized oil container. On the ground, he found two vases that had been knocked over in the blast.

Dirks carefully dipped the vases into the oil until they were filled to the top. Then he started to make his way out of the church. That is, until something shiny caught his eye. Upon closer review, Dirks recognized it as the dagger that Sei had warned him about. Naturally, this gave Dirks another idea. He set down the vases on the ground, and tore a piece of paper out of a nearby bible. He carefully grabbed the dagger with the paper, and dropped it into one of the vases. Finally satisfied, Dirks picked up the vases and finally exited the church.

((Max Dirks exits the church to the Streets))

[Enigmatic Immortal]

Closed