Hunter And The Hunted

A moment of deathly silence passes after Johnny finishes his long-winded proposition to Frederick, the opposing 6th Sigiled Hunter. Frederick takes a step back at the grandiosity of what Johnny had to say. I take this silence to think and recover a bit more, both the Bloody Palm and me doing everything we can to keep my corpse-like body intact.

The silver-haired man's proposition and reasoning for rebelling against the Hunters were far beyond what I expected. That and the final part of his speech, I'm unsure if he let it slip on purpose as a threat or on accident, but Johnny said the title of his Sigil. A title that included a prefix.

That means Johnny has also achieved an Absolution. That means he could potentially reach the 7th Sigil and the Angelic realm. I thought that Absolutions were supposed to be incredibly rare, so how come I've already met two people who have achieved them? Eh, maybe they are still infrequent.

I mean, Johnny is an old grizzled veteran, and Virgil has been in the game for a while, plus his situation was quite unique. I don't know everything Virgil has been through, but it made him incredible at fighting. His affinity for stealth is something that blows my mind every single time I witness it, especially now with his newest Sigil. The combination of being able to Flicker through walls and being able to Mask your presence at the same time is uncomfortably effective.

When it comes to Johnny's rebellion, though, I'm unsure how much I agree with his philosophy. People don't have to be pushed against the wall to work together, right? I teamed up with Edmund with only me being against a wall. And with Earl, Elizabeth, Leonard, and the others? Oh no, that one fits his reasoning. And so does when I met up with Vernon and Virgil, the three of us threatened by the man in the suit with the artifact version of the woman's head who fought with Edmund.

Hmmm. Maybe he's not too far off. The part about backstabbing, I'm not too sure, but I've definitely noticed it is common for people to fight each other even if it's in everyone's best interest not to. Right now is a great example. The Hunters could have at least waited until after the break to attack us. Instead, they are weakening everyone before a catastrophe.

I stay deathly still as Frederick finally starts to move, several long moments passing between Johnny speaking and the man of speed replying. He takes slow, deliberate steps toward Johnny that contrast his usual dexterity. As he expresses his mind, he oddly looks at the back of his hand.

"Haah… You're delusional, Johnny. Those above will never let go of the strangleholds they have on us. Any who do not bend the knee are proclaimed Outlaws and are sentenced to death. This will not change even if we are about to die. They will only become more ruthless and cruel as their reigns fall.

I wish I could join you, Johnny–"

One of the Hunters besides Frederick interrupts him, but the Colonel quickly shuts him up with a backhand to the face.

"You traitor, they–"

"Shut up. Let me finish Ezekiel. I wish I could join you, Johnny, but too many I care about will die if I do. Too tight is my leash. Too tight is too many's leashes. The strings that bind our collars are too complicated and hidden to sever. After all, Johnny, why would I lead a squad such as this if I were not so badly controlled?"

My eyebrows raise at Frederick admitting that he is being controlled by something, which also reminds me of Alexos being manipulated. What is happening? Where are the puppet masters? Who even are they? The Estates? The demons?

I notice that Johnny sighs after what Frederick says. Still, the silver-haired gunslinger tries to reconcile and solve the problem without further bloodshed now that the fighting has momentarily ceased.

"How do they got you? Which Estate is it? I'll tear them down myself if it means we don't have to do this. Was it the Harveys? Or the Shaws? The Grimes? I don't want to kill you, Frederick."

Frederick merely shakes his head and utters a reply that offers no more conversation as he brandishes his short spear, sparkling with blue lightning, that appears to get charged with static electricity alongside his movements.

"It doesn't matter. None are strong enough to tear them down. Not you. Not you and this group of ragtag Survivors you have. Even if the Unyielding Wall himself, the only non-Estate or Estate-controlled Pillar, joined your futile rebellion, you would still be crushed. Every Estate has a Pillar or an artifact capable of fighting a Pillar. Some have both. Cock your gun, Johnny. We fight until you die, or I am ordered to retreat."

After Fredericks explains his grim situation and the reality of the Estates, I see the two men beside him contort their faces into smiles. The two Hunters enjoy what they are about to do, the reality of killing people who only want to better the world, not affecting them in the slightest.

But just before the combat begins again, the bloodshed fated to return, Johnny says one final thing to Frederick amidst the calm ahead of the storm.

"That may be true as it is now, Frederick, but people grow. They might change, but they do grow. And that kid beside you? If you wish to bend the knee to your overlords forever, I recommend you prevent him from aging even a single minute longer. They're known to grow quite fast, after all."

Johnny saying this immediately makes me feel hurt as I assume the man is just ratting out who I am, but he doesn't actually say my name. Instead, he uses the warning as a clever distraction for Frederick, who turns and looks at me curiously. As Frederick does so, Johnny deftly raises his Colt and fires his weapon at one of the Hunters on Fredericks's side of the square.

A gunshot resounds in the air for the first time in over a minute. Blood blossoms and spurts out from the hole between the now-dead Hunter's eyes. Silence returns as the body falls and hits the ground, dirt and sand flying into the air.

The split second the body hits the sand, though, all hell breaks loose. Frederick bursts toward Johnny with a scream, raising his spear of lightning. Dust surges into the air from the man's extreme speed as deadly bullets fly past him non-stop. Only now do I notice that Johnny never misses, even against Frederick's insane speed.

The bullets that seem to miss still scrape off some flesh, causing small blood streams to seep out from the other 6th Sigiled. That, or Frederick blocks some of them with his speed that nears that of a bullet. After all, you don't need to be faster than an arrow to stop it. Only fast enough to move something in between. The precision fits a Sigil with the title of Unalloyed Deadeye matches up poorly against one such as Frederick.

The two 6th Sigiled resume their battle as the last remaining Hunter beside Frederick turns his gaze to me. This man is the last 5th Sigiled, which explains why he's the last standing despite all those that had fallen around him.

After just a moment of looking at me, the Hunter starts to run at me while his eyes dart around. It appears as though he is searching for something or someone. Virgil still lurks around us, the man's stealth nigh-unbreakable as far as I've seen. Maybe Frederick or Johnny could find him if they tried, but this man and me? Nah. We've got no fucking clue where the Darkstalker is.

As he runs at me, this man strikes his hands together, creating a spark of lightning from whatever Sigil skill he used ignited by Ether. The sight causes some surprise and caution to emerge in me, which is quickly wiped away. Do I need to be cautious of anything when I am so close to death? No. That is foolish. Now is the time to be brave. That is the opposite of what he'd expect.

So, just like him, I run forward, but unlike him, I do not use Ether. I merely use the will of Ether that was granted to me. I strengthen my body and push the dying thing that is me forward. I save my Ether which is almost guaranteed to kill me the next time I use it later when I have no other choice.

There is only one saving grace. The man must also be tired. He must also be nearing his limit of Ether saturation. After all, he's been fighting for a while. Who knows how long I was out of the fight, but it was long enough to drop the majority of the combatants. I only need to make him run out of Ether. Then I win. Then I only need to find Vernon and hope that the lovable bastard got the Concoction.

The man lunges toward me as he gets near, seeming like he wants to hit me with his arms of lightning. Not wanting to get electrocuted, I go to dodge to the side to get away from his shocking Ether, but just before I do, the lightning from his fingers arcs from him all the way to me. I feel pain erupts throughout my body as I spasm for a moment and almost fall over.

I barely stabilize my spasming body with my feet as the man takes advantage of the damage he caused to my nervous system. He rushes to me and puts a single index finger against my chest, right in front of where my heart is.

Unable to honestly react with strength as I am still recovering from the first shock, I try to swing an arm to push him off, but I am too slow. I see arcs of lightning flicker behind his eyes as a small but dense bolt of lightning jumps from his finger into my chest.

Instantly, I feel my heart, which is beating incredibly fast and nearing its biological limit from the enhancement of my will, stop. The lightning makes the muscles within my heart contract and lose the ability to relax. I feel a painful but straightforward cramp in my chest as I fall to my knees in the dirt, grasping at my chest with feeble hands that quickly lose strength.

While I struggle against my motionless heart, I see a small rock slam into the ground behind the man of lightning. Confusion rises in both of us as the man in front of me laughs and turns around. But there is nothing behind him, only the rock.

Instead, a figure appears beside me, one cloaked in darkness but covered in burns. He places a hand on my shoulder and bursts forward with deadly alacrity. With a silent movement, Virgil swipes his dagger hidden in Necrosis at the back of the man of lightning's neck. But just before it lands, I notice the man's ears twitch.

And then, out of nowhere, lightning arcs in every direction as once from the man, sending Virgil and me rolling across the sands of Rustbank.

Guess it's not that easy to kill a 5th Sigil, huh, Virgil? I don't think this is a battle we can win alone. We need help.

Despite my thoughts about what must happen in this situation, Virgil scrambles to stand back up as the man wielding electricity rushes him. Bits of lightning arc off of the man's muscles while he moves. I instantly recognize it as a unique form of Adrenaline Surge that uses his particular Ether type, similar to Virgil's Necrosis, being an enhanced version of Whetting.

A brief thought emerges as I wonder what unique effects my Ether would have on general skills. What boons would be granted if I twisted how I used them to fit myself? However, this daydream is quickly wiped away in favor of what is happening both to me and in front of me.

My friend stands with a quick flip and faces the man of lightning without hesitation. Virgil rapidly meets the man in open combat as the Darkstalker no longer has anyone to hide behind and stalk from. The lightning has burnt many parts of his protective outfit, causing flames to flicker upon his skin. No longer does he possess the mantle of darkness to strengthen him.

Virgil holds him on for a bit, trading blows here and there, but the situation rapidly worsens as I see him run low on Ether and Flicker less and less. It also doesn't help that the man's lighting seems to ignore the effects of Flicker, hitting Virgil anyway. Luckily, the other man's lightning becomes less and less frequent as well, though. So, we are indeed making progress.

All the while they fight, I scramble to put myself together. I can feel myself rapidly slow in thoughts and actions as the effects of a dead heart catch up with me. After just ten seconds of watching the fight between the older Boone brother and the Hunter before him, my vision oscillates in and out. From blackness to whiteness before small glimpses of the world.

During these small glimpses, I try to marshal my will in an attempt to restart my heart. If it can keep my body from collapsing, surely it can resume my limp heart?

Only at this time do I remember a warning from Primrose. The scene of her giving me the Deadman's switch comes to mind.

"Good, now, this thing here is a Deadman's switch. If your heart stops beating for thirty seconds, it explodes. Imagine, umm, like a hundred pounds of dynamite at once. That's about roughly the same."

I can feel a vibration from the Deadman's switch like it is preparing to explode. A literal tick-tock reverberates through my skin. I am unsure how long my heart has been inert, but the vibration from the switch focuses my mind even further despite the lack of oxygen.

As my mind fades in and out of consciousness from the lack of blood going to my mind and the dark whispers of the Bloody Palm reappear, I bare the whole might of my recently evolved will. I focus intensely on my heart and the surrounding arteries, doing everything I can to force it to beat again. All the while, I both ignore and keep the ticks constant in my mind.

This time using my will, I feel a sensation. The last time, my whole body was numb and couldn't feel anything, but this time I do feel something different. Everywhere my will touches, I feel it shake like a hammer slammed into it alongside a brief static shock. But after two attempts at restarting my heart, each attempt getting shorter and shorter bursts of time to attempt to force my heart into action, and just as the ticks become an almost constant sound in my mind, I succeed.

With a shake and a shock that resounds throughout my whole body, I feel my heart restart. The organ hits me with a single beat that jolts me from my nigh unconsciousness and back into the world of the living. Rolling onto my stomach, I cough several times as my eyes water, and then I gasp in breaths of delicious air.

I wait a single stressful moment as I hear the rapidly vibrating Deadman's switch calm and slow down before the vibrations eventually end. A sigh of relief escapes from my lungs.

All the while, I keep my mind still focused on keeping my body in one piece and my heart contracting. And just as The Cabin said, I do feel the world contort me in turn as I make it bend to my will. I feel great twisting pressure on every single one of my joints, muscles, and even my heart, a tension that threatens to break me.

It's almost as if my will has been given a physical power, and what it does is push pressure on the joints, muscles, and heart to keep them working. The contortion of the world works against my stabilizing force, but I keep its effects at bay for now. This ability could have quite a wide array of uses, just like Daydream. It feels as though I started with a simple Chain Eyes, unable to be used for much, that eventually evolved into abilities with almost unlimited avenues of usefulness.

But now that my will is holding my body together as it fails, I feel as though I now understand the purpose of the three skills given to me by my Sigil.

Chain Eyes is for me to see what truly surrounds me. See what threats, deceptions, and falsities lie around me. So that I can prepare for what is to come.

Daydream is to enhance myself using Ether, making me best suited for specific situations. Need to run fast? Daydream that you are faster. Need a powerful punch? Solved. Need a defended mind? Solved. It's a multi-purpose tool that can help hone any edge. Like the evolution of simple thought to complex reasoning, the Philosopher's single-use mind has become the Struggler's armory.

This new one, I believe, is similar to Daydream, but instead of making me more capable, it aids me in staying alive. To keep the Struggler struggling. It allows me to shore up any hole or weakness I could have simply through the might of my will. And the precision that I have is extreme in the spot that I choose to plug. I still cannot find a name for this new trait, as no good idea come to mind.

But what does come to mind is that I need to concentrate, stop allowing my newly awakened heart from dawdling any further, and help Virgil.

So, with a grunt, as I glance down at the black scar of jagged lightning that remains on my chest from the recent heart-stopping, I get up and move toward Virgil. I may be weak and almost powerless at this point, barely holding onto life, but all the Darkstalker needs is a distraction.

A moment of time where the man next to him is entirely distracted, unable to defend himself. And from personal experience, that usually is when one is in the middle of an attack. I shamble toward the two men fighting with inhuman speeds, precision, and skills with this purpose in mind.

My shamble slowly grows into a fast walk and then into a slow run as my body gets more used to my movements from its recent awakenings from near death. After a few steps, everything moves in tune with my will. I quickly reach the man opposite Virgil from the side of the two, and I go in for a tackle, planning to use my body as a distraction for the experienced Darkstalker.

Just before I slam into the man who wields lightning, he turns to me and, with a grunt, lashes out at me with arcs of blue lightning from his hands as he turns to me. However, I am prepared for this as I expected him to defend himself with lightning, so I bolster myself with my own will against the paralyzing shock.

It works but not wholly, for I am spread too thin. My will targets too many parts of myself to indeed be able to contend with the power of another who seeks to kill or paralyze me. But the defense of my will works enough so that I do not fall over altogether; instead, I get out a single extra step as I get closer to the man of lighting.

He sends even more lightning at me to stop me, keeping a potent stream of lighting between us for a full second before the electricity pauses. The man momentarily runs out of steam or focus; the pain of nearing Ether saturation is always debilitating and precisely what I was waiting for. I take this opportunity to regain my bearings and ram into the man of lightning.

We both fall into the sand together as I hear him grit his teeth in frustration. I do the same, but in an effort to prepare for the shock from him that is to come. On Death's door, anyone who is capable will go beyond the Edge in pursue of a way to live.

And he doesn't disappoint my preparation Ether as I see him spread his fingers with a web of electricity arcing them.

Then because we are so close together, he presses the web directly against my neck.