A thirty-minute warning beeped at him. Durante was nothing but practical. Catch up. Though they weren't far from the rendezvous point. Zephyr followed. Her gun was trained at the floor. She didn't trust him. She probably shouldn't. He was after all a reborn god. Though she would never know it. Today was about capturing Durante. No kill order for a god. It was his own order. He wanted to uncover the remaining traitors in their midst, but now he had his own agenda -- not dying.
The sickness was only a few days past. But he felt healthier than he had before. But a god... he was still wrapping his head around it.
Jer kicked a stone and Zephyr swore. "Fuck you Inquisitor."
Jer laughed. "It's dark down here. Sorry."
She grumbled and pushed past him. "Let me lead."
She didn't get more than a few steps ahead of me before Durante stepped into the swath of light of her gun. "Turn off the light."
Durante looked unfased by the gun she pointed at his face. There was darkness in his eyes. But what Jer saw winding around her -- the fine light. He was channeling at her. Wrapping her in something and she stood there like nothing was the matter -- she was in control. She took a step towards him. "Or what?"
Jer reached stepped up next to her and put his hand on her gun to lower it. She elbowed him hard and it was right back where it had been. "Back off Inquisitor. You are coming with us. Alive preferably -- Dead if I have to shoot you."
Why the fuck were they down in the dark tunnels? Why? There was no reason she could think of. Monsters lurked in the tunnels -- okay but why was a former Atharim god down in the tunnels? And why was the Inquistor going after him alone -- well not anymore after a god who had already bested two teams. The reports were clear this man was dangerous.
Durante stepped out. He was taller than she thought he'd be. American metrics always bothered her and his record was all American.
The Inquistor tried to make her lower her gun. The boy didn't even smile he just stared at her like she wasn't even dangerous.
All of a sudden the gun in her head overheated. What the fuck! She dropped the hot metal to the ground, the light clattering around a beam that showed men behind Durante. Fuck! What had they walked into?
The boy god spoke softly. "Please take her gun and turn off the light. You won't need them from here on out." He turned and walked back towards the men behind him.
Zef rolled for her gun, but in the moment between leaving the ground and hitting it again she found herself floating in air. The boy turned to look at her. Then back to the inquisitor who had her gun pointed at the ground -- the light off. Why was he not trying to kill the boy. "She'll be useless if we have to keep her tied up."
Zef floated along after him. She struggled against bonds she couldn't see. "Let me out."
All hell was about to break lose. Splitting the weave to heat the gun was probably not a good idea. But Nox focused on keeping calm. Mental breathing -- calming words. Yoga meditation while walking. Calm was important right now. The horde was hungry.
Nox dragged the Atharim behind him. The inquisitor walked. He had seen the threads of light. He had tried to stop her. There was little trust but there was some.
"I didn't inform either party I had others with me. We want to get this done. We need to work together." Nox waited for all hell to break lose. For the fury of the Ascendancy. For Allan's claim -- not that anyone knew these three were Atharim. But the Atharim knew these men were all reborn gods -- all of them it was no secret.
And the woman cried out revealing her intent. "We will kill all of you." Nox sighed. But he stood between the men who could wipe him out and the Atharim who if they wanted could shoot him in the back.
Unlike her companion who hunted gods, Grym was at home underground. Monsters kept to the dark, and their stalker went to them. Hives, hordes, swarms; anywhere the predators waited. It was one reason she masqueraded as a Bone Black technician, not just because her base was housed in an abandoned factory, but because she was almost always filthy.
Grym was older than her newfound friend, which was a strange title to assign Zef. She never really thought of herself as having friends: comrades, partners, or lovers, sure, but a friend was an oddity. Between being of a ‘didn’t give a fuck’ forties and relaxation underground, Grym walked without a weapon at the ready. Sure, it was pretty weird to hunt a god underground, but there could be multiple reasons one escaped down here. Not only were they batshit crazy, insanity took gods the longer they survived attempting to control their inhuman powers, but society was rejecting them. Homeless camps were a great place to evade capture.
That isn’t to say she was without ready. Her favorite double-sided battle axe was strapped to in its back holster. She wore body armor but wasn’t sure it would provide much protection against a distant adversary. Close and personal fights with monsters kept her torso from being slashed to meat, but a god? Better safe than sorry. A 9mm standard pistol was holstered on one leg and draped around her chest was the strap for a beefier 9mm SMG. She looked like she was walking into war, and her muscular frame suggested this wasn’t her first one.
Like Zef, she was in need of some light, but with the flashlights, she kept her land warriors disabled for dark vision. Even the system controls for her pair of personal attack drones were in hidden mode. The tension between Jerry and Zef was palpable, although Grym wasn’t entirely sure why other than Atharim-general mistrust of everyone else. A team hunt never went well if the team couldn’t work together.
It started with the rock kick. Grym rolled her eyes in the dark. It was like the antagonizing was intentional. Moments later, the change in air pressure tickled the back of her neck. She tensed just as a shape materialized in the light. It was a man.
The confrontation lasted the blink of an eye, but Grym remained rooted to her place, poised to strike. Everyone seemed on razor’s edge, and the situation could turn bloody any moment. This was the god Jerry hunted? And he knew they were coming?
“Traitor,” Grym hissed under her breath, but survival instincts kept her from lashing out with more than her tongue. Despite lacking the use of lethal force, Grym did not desire to end up a floating log like Zef.
Her heart was beating with that familiar drum in her chest, and she followed like an unwilling prisoner. She could turn and run back the way they came, but that would all but seal Zef’s fate.
Then a whole group of men came into view.
Some time passed after Nikolai became familiar with the new attire and equipment. He spent the time devising a contingency plan with the Dominions and Marcus should an Ijiraq appear. They were the only thing with potential to strike terror into his heart, but less so with a plan. Now that they were rested, it was almost time to move on when Nox suddenly got up. The others were naturally wary, but Nikolai remained back to observe what happened next.
((Nik is going to hang back and observe what happens. I'm sure the others will confront Nox but he's waiting to react/step in)
Nox abruptly left the group. Allan stood up and followed slowly behind. He drew upon the source just out of sight. It raged inside and it fueled his anger, his distrust of the boy Atharim.
Three people came into view, their flashlights blinding him a moment before the land warriors compensated for the light source. White dots danced in his vision as he watched Nox wrap a woman in weaves of air long before he actually used them. The other two remained calm while this one spat curses.
The power enhanced hearing allowed Allan to hear the muttered curse of Traitor from the other woman. These were Atharim. Allan drew a fireball into front of him. Nox stepped between him and the fucking Atharim. His back was to the Dominion and Allan grew angrier.
Nox growled... literally growled at the woman deep in his throat. The pup behind him stood up and took up a guard stance. The sound in the distance grew quiet... Nox pointed a finger at the other woman. "I'm only a traitor because you say I am -- because I can do this. I have been nothing but faithful to the Atharim cause." The air around them them swirled with fire. Lights shimmered around them like the aura borealis. How many weaves was he using? The flow split into three with different weaves? [[ This is Nox's limit, 2 of the weaves are well practiced -- like everyday practiced ]]
Allan dropped his own weave. Beads of sweat formed on Nox's brow, whatever he was doing was costing him. "Why are they here?" The anger had drained from his voice. Nox turned and glared at Allan. Allan took a step back. The look was not friendly. He'd seen it before. Allan drew upon the power, everything raged inside once again. Nox was a danger.
Allan formed the weave he'd learned to detain other channelers like himself and netted Nox with it. It slipped and slide around before sliding into place. The flows around Nox dropped. The bound woman dropped to the ground in a heap.
The darkness in Nox's eyes grew deeper as he drew his cross bow from his hip. "Let me go." The reverberation from the hoard they were chasing growled in unison echoing down the tunnels. The faint sound of claws on stonein the distance grew louder with each breath. "I can't control them if you keep me from the power, and they are hungry."
Jay didn’t bother opening his eyes when Marcus came over. He heard the approach, and of the group, Marcus had the heaviest footsteps. This was the extent of his interaction with the politician. Rightfully so. Jay avoided politicians whenever possible. Present company excluded.
Marcus’ idea was met with the twisted lips of approval. “I won’t turn down a pillow,” and naturally leaned forward a little to give the wizard the space. His lids remained low despite the ongoing chat. Probably the fact that his senses were tuned almost completely to sound, or the fact he’d been a steady level of drunk for the past several days, but he started to say something he probably wouldn’t if Marcus hadn’t wandered by.
But a new arrival interrupted. Jay clapped his mouth shut and hopped to his feet as if he’d not been half-asleep a second before. It was the kind of jolt that surged instant energy and focus throughout the whole body. Moments later, he was practically planted in front of Ascendancy while Allan and Nox moved off to cut the intrusion off at the head.
The power surged everywhere, and the tension was tight. It was like a saloon full of cowboys, revolvers drawn and someone waiting for the first move to be made. Jay himself was one of the least powered, even at full capacity, but unlike the others, he was probably the deadliest. And that was the kind of thing that a guy could be proud of.
Marcus smiled at Carpenter's response. He was about to proceed when things rapidly began spinning out of control. The snippets of confusing conversation, sound of metal clattering to the ground, the yipping of the zombie dog- and above all, and the feel of the power being wielded.
Unease and irritation warred inside him. The not -knowing dug at him, an itch that overwhelmed with a need to be scratched. The chaos turned his stomach, feelings of anger and a desire to lash out roiling inside him. This was not the place to added uncertainty and the unpredictable.
The Force surged at his command, wrapped around him like a blanket, and the disquiet leeched out into it- some of it anyway- enough. His attention was divided, part toward the group ahead, and the rest...that was the frustrating part. The danger could come from anywhere. He breathed, focusing his attention at the tunnels around them. Ascendancy was here. Carpenter and Allan as well. He had shielded Nox. Marcus didn't understand the situation, but it didn't matter.
Only a fool focused on the danger ahead only to let one sneak up behind him. And something niggled at the back of his mind. A brush of sound. A scratch on walls. Breathing. Normally, he would say it was his imagination. But those burned mounds were not imagination.
Where there was one horde there was another. Ascendancy was watching the new arrivals. He nodded at Carpenter and then at the tunnels endless windings into the darkness. The Force obeyed and threads of air and spirit exploded out from him, trip wires and listening conduits heading into the deep.
He wanted no surprises.
Once it became clear that they were all at an impasse, it was with a grunt of annoyance that Nikolai showed himself.
But it wasn't the kind of showing where the Ascendancy walks into an office that otherwise expects him to be around and about. It was the kind of showing that he pulled on those that deserved to be intimidated; needed to be shown what they were dealing with in order to reign in order and justice.
Only this time, he didn't channel his power ahead of his entrance. No billowing rolls of black mist crept ahead. No darkness dimmed the ambient light. Just him, the Ascendancy, bringing himself forward. A god disturbed from his work.
Guns had been confiscated. Allan's power wrapped Nox tight into a shield. The Atharim were poised to strike, snakes to the core. Nox had a point about the horde, and having witnessed it first hand, Nikolai signaled to Allan to let Nox go. Between himself, Marcus and two Dominions, there wasn't much of a threat, and to this day, Nikolai believed Nox's intentions were in right - even if he was a fool about his methods.
It was to the Atharim that he spoke. None he recognized, nor did he expect to beyond the hatred in their gazes. "You are rats caught in a cage. I will take no pleasure in killing you where you stand, and I will not hesitate to do so unless you give me a good reason otherwise."
Then he turned to Nox, hopeful for an affirmative answer. "They better be here for bait," he said. If he needed to make the Atharim bleed to draw the horde in for ambush, Nikolai would not object.
The whole shit show hit the fan quickly. There was a lot of drama a lot of yelling and shouting. And then there was the Ascendancy. The fucking Ascendancy stood in the middle of a cavern full of other reborn gods and he stood there helpless. The most powerful man on the planet. This boy -- former Atharim -- current underling of the Ascendancy?
Yet when Jer looked at the boy he didn't see deference. He saw anger. He glared at the one who was shouting and accusing him of being a traitor. It seemed this boy only knew how to betray things.
There was a shift in the air. A wall between him and the other Atharim. Nox spoke in a hushed voice. "I brought him to learn or to die. I don't care which. The other two came at their own peril hunting me, they didn't know you'd be here. Any of you."
Jer growled. He didn't just tell them what he thought they did. Jer glanced back at the women. Zef didn't seem to hear she was pounding on the wall of air behind him. At least he was smart enough to know not to out him to the other Atharim. Maybe he wasn't as stupid as he looked.