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Into the Darkness
#11
Jay didn’t like the way Nox talked about the horde.

Not because it was a fucking terrifying term. I mean, shit, were they hunting monster locusts or zombies or something worse? Probably worse, knowing Nox.

But it was the way Nox talked about the horde like they were a part of him. Like he knew exactly where to find the swarm. Jay’s concern about his own pathetic life was suddenly tossed to the back burner. This might actually be dangerous.

“No coming back from a head amputation, eh, Nox?” he joked, but something already overtook his friend: a darkness Jay recognized. It was shadows and intensity, rage and hunger all mixed together, a lust for the mission and the burst of hot blood.

He followed along, staying near the Ascendancy, but watched Nox’s back – literally - the man was in the lead. It took a few minutes to orient himself to the navigation on the Land Warriors, but Jay seized the power early on, letting it heighten his senses and hone his focus. He had his own firearm, but he did not intend to use it as Nox said. Edged weapons were stowed about his body similar to the kit he carried in the marines: sheathes and easy-access blades ready for the last defense.

Soon the tunnel system transformed from brick and mortar to limestone and bedrock. The air was heavy and moist like the brush of wind was forever banished from this part of the earth. There was a stink of fungus and rotten things that the power only amplified. They were definitely underground. It was like hunting in a cemetery.

He sensed the coming wrongness before any other sign told him something was coming. Maybe it was Nox’s body language shifting into the defensive or it was some untold curling of the air about their nostrils. Either way, Jay felt the power pulse around all the men, himself plunging into its strength.

In the few moments before the storm descended, he pulled a drink from the flask hidden behind his jacket, making no effort to hide the gesture from any of them. He had a strong feeling he was going taste the snag of teeth in his skin and meet one of Nox’s bullets in the head.
Only darkness shows you the light.


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#12
The extremity to which Nox adorned himself with supplies gave Nikolai a moment’s reflection. He exchanged a glance with Marcus as Karim’s final question replayed in his mind. Was such preparation necessary? In his brief interlude as an Atharim, days-long escapades weren’t on the training agenda. Nikolai had a meeting with the Consulates and new Patron of Dominance IX that evening. He had no intention of being away that long.

The tunnels were unusual. Their grim interior was far from the plush luxury of the Grand Palace and briefly reminded him of his complacency with materialism. Nox’s warnings were fresh, but honestly, Nikolai may have included warnings about spider bites as fervently as monster gnashes. He had no intention of receiving either.

Like the others, he too spun up orbs of light. Nikolai’s were perfectly formed spheres, smooth as glass, and hovered as if on string, ten in total. The among of the power required was minimal, but the dexterity to move so many threads along was the more difficult feat. None the less, by now, it was second nature.

The potential of an Ijiraq’s appearance was also close to mind. Yet with so many present having overcome them in the past, it would take an entire hive attacking at once to best them. The risk was lower than a spider bite, in his opinion.

He climbed through a hole lined with bent rebar and broken bits of concrete. On the other side, the underworld shifted to something wild and natural, and so too did a shift in Nikolai move. The rocks were slicked with moisture. They gleamed reflections of their lights. The air flooded his lungs with chill that invigorated to the bone. Without specific reason, he cast out tendrils of power into earth, seeking hints of the surrounding bedrock. It gave him pause, and for a moment, he closed his eyes and tasted the elements as if they tickled his very tongue. Limestone and siltstone pebbled beneath his senses. Deposits and crevices sang their tune like the vibration of a musical string. In the far depths were hollow caverns that he couldn’t tell for sure but may have been filled with water. Farther still as if reaching into the core of the planet, was the sulphury churn of magma.

The earth gave him strength, and when he opened his eyes, he was ready to unleash it.
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#13
The banter between Carpenter and Nox was natural enough. Playful even. Subconsciously he filed it away and focused on the words. He kept a smirk from forming on his lips at Nox's words. He might have skill. Marcus was not stupid enough to dismiss people as threats because it injured his pride. But any attempt of Nox's to "put him down" would be met with the quickest and purest expression of the power he would experience. No matter what he thought, Marcus was not going to finish his life down here. He didn't come this far to die in the tunnels, a sacrifice to keep the world safe.

If he wasn't alive to enjoy it, the state of the world really didn't matter to him in the slightest

Nox took the lead and Marcus was content to follow. He did unclip his lightsaber and held it firmly, ready. Despite his work over the last few weeks, his one concession to himself had been taking up kendo. And while he was still a relative beginner, the instructor Samu-san, told him he had good instincts and form. Marcus did not feel the need to tell him he had been practicing sword fighting since he was a kid. Sticks, cardboard wrapping paper tubes, fiberglass rods- one time even a couple of fluorescent tubes he and Andre found near a dumpster- whatever he could find he had played with it. But he knew better than to think that had given him any kind of skill.

Nor did he want to be laughed at in the class. It wouldn't do to have to kill them for his own foolish slip of the tongue.

The tunnels seemed to press in around him and Marcus felt the anxiety rise. A memory flashed. He was locked in a closet. The smell of eggs and vomit filled the air. It a took a moment to place it. Denise. He breathed, trying to exhale away the tension he had felt in that confined space. He wasn't a helpless little kid anymore.

But he did not let go of the fury that went with it. He almost channeled to give himself red eyes as he did when he hunted there toward the end. His rage was an old familiar friend, the one he used to call Malik. He welcomed it and felt it suffuse him.

The discomfort fled. Instead, the angel of death descended into the bowels of hell. The Force carried the sounds and smells of the tunnels, the whispered words and steps- and something else. A buzzing droning he felt as much as heard. Felt, more than heard. Tendrils of the Force spread out from before him, questing threads of spirit. Of all the flavors, spirit seemed most useful, as if it was responsive to his very will. With them, he could 'taste' what was out there, feel reverberations that went beyond the physical. Spirit was almost an interface of the power in and of itself.

They walked on, lit up by the lights created by Ascendancy. Which was fine by him. Adding more illumination would do no good. Instead, his threads 'tasted' the wrongness descending on them. He'd not bring his blade to life until it was time. And he had room to use it. He had no desire to cut he own companions down.

Instead, he prepared nasty weaves of his own, a barrage of fiery whips and tendrils similar to what the blade of his lightsaber did, but to be launched in a spinning motion to the center mass. He waited, hunger whetting his tongue. It wouldn't be long now.
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#14
Hunting in the tunnels seemed more grandiose than the reality of it. Allan didn't really know what he had expected but the dirt, and grime. The smell as they waded through god knows what was only made stronger with the power running through his veins. They followed in the wake of a man who grumbled under his breath about the lights the Ascendancy lit. They weren't bright enough to see past his back, Allan didn't know what he was grumbling about. But he was well prepared, Allan wasn't sure if that was a precaution or prediction. Either way, Allan felt highly unprepared. He only had his issued gear as one of the Nine, which wasn't much.

Sounds echoed in the darkness. There was danger on the air. Scratching and growling. Drips of water fell into puddles somewhere in that deep darkness in front of them. The power around them was immense, every one of the men in the group including himself was holding the power. The Ascendancy's flows stretched into the bowels of the earth. Impressive. There was a shiver from their guide as he walked, but he never looked back. There was something in his posture that said something was coming in the darkness. He was ready, but there were no weapons or even any weaves present that Allan could see. What was he doing?

The sounds in the darkness got louder. Sounded more like scratching on the walls, and low rolling rumble not quite a growl emanated from their guide. He made the gesture to stop just as the Ascendany's eyes caught the light of something in the distance -- eyes stared back at them. There had to be fifty or more sets of eyes at a glance.
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#15
The darkness grew darker until a light behind him made the land warriors' night vision light up and he flinched while the goggles adjusted to the new level of brightness. Nox glanced back ready to yell but when the weave emanated from the Ascendancy himself Nox felt it better to just hold his reprisal. He grumbled under his breath something about taking civilians on a hunt. There was power everywhere, and normally Nox would be impressed bur right now the pull of the power was only heightening the pull of the darkness inside.

They drew near. His call brought them. The map indicated an intersection before a bend and Nox felt the small fraction of the horde just around it. Waiting for the power. Waiting for him. Eyes glinted in the light behind him. Nox gave a half-smile as one trotted out of the darkness near. Nox knelt down and held out his hand. "Nova."

His sister's former pup stopped well short of his hand. The rest of the horde growled in the darkness. The air rippled with their eagerness to feed. To rip open his four companions' veins and tear them apart limb from limb. It played out in his head, he felt their need. They fought his control. A low rumble echoed in the tunnels. It was fast when it happened, half the horde bolted from others up the passage.

Nox called to them. Hunger rose, the sounds of people filtered down the hall through the horde. "Fuck" Nox threw a wall of air up between him and the horde, Nova still on this side was already chasing after the horde. Nox started running up the passage they had gone. "Half the fragment is going to attack people."

He reached out to the horde and called to them, but their hunger was all that mattered. Fuck.

Moments, it was only moments later when the screaming started. A populated cavern with tents pulled into view and the land warriors adjusted to the campfire lights. A very large Oni covered in the slough of the horde. That was new... It ripped through the tents catching people and taking a bite out of the flesh and tearing apart and tossing the to the side, the smaller rat sized ones were scampering after the discard. Several dog sized one were chasing people.
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#16
The monsters showed themselves. Eyes glowed from bodies cloaked in darkness. The eyes moved as if some prowled, others slithered and some scampered. But they moved like a construct of one entity. Something intelligent yet feral. Wild yet intentional. Nikolai encountered nothing like this ever in his life. Not even in his dreams did such a thing reveal itself. Yet here he was, heart pounding from sudden repulsion. The slaughter would be merciless.

Before he could strike, Nox bolted with sudden purpose. Nikolai knew people lived beneath the city, but he did not truly anticipate encountering any. He glanced at Marcus, Allan and Jay, all of whom seemed to be left behind by their undeclared leader. He wanted to stay and begin the eradication, but a wall of Ether imprisoned the creatures behind an invisible barrier.

“Follow Nox. You heard him, if someone is bit, they can turn. I do not desire to cut down my own people,” he said, “but I will not let someone suffer a fate of living death,” he promised.

Then he hurried after Nox, suit coat flapping as he ran. Maybe the suit was a poor decision, he thought as the distance covered. But he had every intention of making sure the poor wretches down here knew exactly was saving them.
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#17
The little puppy that came out of the darkness to Nox's hand felt...wrong. There was something malevolent about it, something that rippled along the threads of spirit that fanned out from him, touching everything out there. The darkness of it was tiny, a larger pulsing feel of it ahead.

Ascendancy's light showed the horde ahead of them, distorted figures, some small and dog-like, others more like humans, and at least one that appeared large, a cross between a bull and a man. Despite their differences, there was something disturbing about them, as if they were all part of a larger mind. The way they moved reminded him of schools of fish or flocks of birds.Emergence was the term, the sum was greater than its parts. Was it a hive mind?, he wondered even as he released his weaves. If so, was it distributed or was there a single decision point?

The wall was an issue, for a moment, but Marcus channeled a small wedge of spirit opening it wide enough to let his weaves through. He didn't want to ruin what Nox had done. The explosions of bodies was accompanied by waves of heat he felt as he walked carefully towards the mass closest to him. He had no desire to try to fight them off with his melee weapon, his saber, even his the wall was gone, alone. It was, to be sure, something he was very proud of. But as they said, you don't bring a knife to a gun fight. Or perhaps better, don't use a knife when a gun will do.

The others could handle those streaming toward one of the homeless encampments. He wanted to enjoy the pure destruction without worrying about discussions of collateral damage later.

Weaves of fire and earth and wind continued to leap from his hands.
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#18
Footsteps fell behind him. Screams echoed in front of him. And then there was searing pain coursing through his body. Nox stumbled when the first surge hit his brain, and when the second hit, Nox fell to his knees clutching at his head. He saw through the darkness fire and earth and blood exploding everywhere around him. It was like watching a horror film play out in his head and he felt every blow.

Nothing in front of him screamed pain. If anything they fed. Nox pushed through the pain and wove a net of air to capture and detain, but it was like flying a kite in a hurricane. Somewhere in the horde, someone was dying. Nox sent those waiting for him and Nova like good little pets fleeing into the darkness behind them to escape whatever fiery destruction awaited them. They didn't need his urging. They felt trapped and used and Nox felt guilty about it. Their pain only abated as they fled. But he could only hope the pain would cease.

In front of him the partial horde feed and chased on the underworld denizens. The smell of ichor and blood permeated his nostrils. It was everything he had to block the horde from his mind. He'd have to remember that when he went to make the killing blow. That was only a small portion of what he felt in the darkness, what happened when more died at the same time -- it was bound to happen -- it was their ultimate goal.

Nox watched as one woman was torn in half by the turned Oni. He drew his crossbow and focused through the pain he felt. It had to be stopped. It was a one in a million shot. One he'd trained for his whole life, and until he became a reborn god had eluded him. But now, the shot was easier, the clarity of the power brought the eye into focus like nothing ever could. The knocked bolt aimed, and with the squeeze of a trigger Nox loosed the deadly missile. It landed with a thunk in the eye socket of the Oni and it fell to the ground in a heap amongst the strewn tents and remains of those it had killed. Even through the his focus he felt the Oni' death. The horde all paused in that moment and turned to him. There was knowledge in their eyes. They started to understand -- I was not one of them.
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#19
He ran after Nox, plunging headfirst into a den of screams. But when he got there, for all his power and all his strategy, Nikolai found himself frozen. The horror of what unfolded was unthinkable. Every sensation crashed with the monstrosity. The shapes flickered in fire light, bursting out of nothingness. Nearby, Nox sank to his knees, lost to something within. The vulnerability seemed to stun a wedge from Nik’s own mind, and with a roar of inexplicable anger, he joined the attack.

Within moments, smoke filled the air that it burned his eyes and squeezed the throat. More and they’d choke on their own weaves. From the ground he pulled stone and in one motion formed it to slender spikes, flinging them like meter-long darts. A creature was devouring the body of someone whose legs alone remained. The force of his attack impaled it to the wall, but its victim was already pulp.

A wave tossed his stomach, but he crunched his eyes shut and looked elsewhere. He almost lost his balance on the wetness underfoot, but hurried on, one by one, helping the others to kill what creatures hadn’t yet escaped.

When the growls and howling of consumption ended, the weaves faded, but not so the Ascendancy’s will. Their group was dispersed a little. What remained of the encampment was burning in multiple places, the rest destroyed, everything trampled. Moaning pulled him off the obvious path. When he yanked away the remains of a cloth structure, a man was there. Still alive. Below the elbows, his arms were mangled stumps, useless defenses against a beast more savage than the wolf and more ferocious than the bear. Gashes dug chunks from his abdomen. His skull was missing above one eye. Yet he breathed. Not for much longer, but in that moment, he breathed.

He didn’t know if the man recognized him. If he could see at all. Or process anything except his suffering. Nikolai carried no gun to end his misery, but he was not without the means. A moment later, the suffering ended, and Nikolai had killed a human out of mercy.

Four others were in various stages of death when he found them: two more men, a woman, and a child. By the time he found the others to regroup, ash darkened his clothes and grey streaked his face where he’d rubbed away the sweat. Anger fueled his steps more than sickness, more than fear, and more than anything. He was fucking pissed.

“What the hell just happened?” He demanded.
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#20
It was like the empty peering into the empty.

Nox ran to save people. A hero. One of the good guys. Ascendancy was close on the chase. Together, the two were strong enough to slice through the – what did Nox call it? – a fragment. A fragment of something bigger and badder.

The others probably assumed Jay followed. Howls met the offense of some of the most powerful channelers alive. Screams drowned the rest of what billowed ahead.

Finally, he walked. There was no hurry to his pace. Nothing especially lazy. Just a man walking toward horror as anyone might be. Then, when the screaming and scampering and noise fell silent, a shiver crawled up his spine. The emptiness was deafening.

He came around the corner to find quite literally a scene from a bad movie. There were body parts strewn about. Blood everywhere. Dead carcasses in various degrees of smolder. Ruin. The air stank of death and excrement.

His hand absently fell across his stomach for a moment. The stink of burnt flesh ripped lightning through his mind, but the recent memory wasn’t the disturbing part. It was something older. Something worse than torture.

When he came in, it was to Nox he approached first, offering the flask to someone who probably needed it more than he did. Almost anyway.
Only darkness shows you the light.


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