A Gunslinger's Smokey Ballad

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Johnny 'Drawn Gold' Caldwell

The force of the superheated blow sends me hurtling across the landscape, my body a ragdoll breaking bones and reopening old wounds as I smash through stone buildings and steel ramparts. I bounce along the ground for nearly half a mile, each impact jarring my senses and leaving me gasping for breath. Five years ago, I would have died from the initial impact. Ten, and I would have been turned to paste. But now...

My eye warps with gold, the Power that has saved me countless times. Time bends to my will, and I am Glitched back to the moment just before the God of Magma struck. The world shifts around me, and I find myself back on my feet, my body whole again.

For a split second, for the tiniest period of time, I pause. Everything aches with pain. Disasters rage every second, in every direction, as far as my ears can listen. It is happening—the Second Collapse. I've fought to stop this for so long, and... it's here anyway. Everything I had done was useless. No. Not useless. I'm stronger now. I can fight. I can... I can do this.

My body leans forward ever so slightly in the agony of the strain my eyes are under. Then... I refocus, my vision narrowing upon Jesu as I toss the Colt in my left hand to the ground, drawing another creation of Earl's from a holster on my body.

Fate Sealer is powerful, but even it will soon crumble under my Power, let alone the other Colts. Few can handle my might anymore. I reckon Lily and Datura could, the legendary weapons of Wyatt and Killian, though it is not a hope I will ever have the luxury of bearing.

Jesu meets my spiraling golden pupils, which Blake often totes as those of a sandy eagle. The God's mouth opens, and an awful heat erupts from it, melting the stone streets around it.

There is no time to waste. I need to get him out of the damned city! Bullets fly from my guns as I move, each shot carefully aimed to harry the corrupted God and draw him away from the city, away from my land. Every second is a close shave with death, the God's molten strikes and fiery wrath narrowly missing me: my Golden Eye streams ichor, the strain of manipulating time pushing it to its limits. My 8th Sigil Deadmark enhanced my eyes, but only so much.

But I don't cower. If I falter, if I fail to do my duty, who will stand to protect our people? There are many warriors, many brave souls ready to fight, but few who can lead as I do. The burden of leadership is heavy, but it is one I bear willingly. Not everyone can smile through it all. Many break under the pressure. I have before. Long ago. But not anymore. I cannot.

The God's roar shakes the ground as I dart through the ruins, leading him ever further from the heart of our land. Any time he attempts to attack another or rush down one of my men, I teach him a lesson.

Fate Sealer bulges with Ether as I harness Canyon and Heather's techniques at once, adding them with my own to grant a peculiar spin to the bullet. A squeeze of the finger and a bullet as fast as my eyes can follow near Jesu's temple. And as the lead lands, I latch onto it, Glitching the damned thing a half-dozen times with the minute control beyond what I once thought possible before reading that book.

Six concurrent impacts leave the embodiment of volcanos reeling and his anger rising to a new height. Magma rages outward, sealing the outermost streets of Onyx Gate with the terrible heat. Each time his molten fist crashes down, I sidestep with all the speed I can manage. Sometimes, it's not enough, time warping just enough to avoid the fatal blow. The heat is unbearable, searing my skin even at a distance, but I press on, unwavering.

We emerge from the city, the open landscape stretching out before us. In the distance, I find sparks of fire. Bonfire is doing his job as promised, while motes of light display Natos' struggle as well. I cannot imagine more than half of us will be alive in a day's time.

Still, there is less to be destroyed here, less to endanger my people. I glance back, catching a glimpse of the God's burning eyes, filled with rage and corruption. He's focused entirely on me now, just as I intended.

I weigh the bomb in my wrist lightly, the explosive inlaid into my flesh. Good.

We're far enough now.

With a twitching pair of pupils, I push my body to its limits and raise both arms, a new gun in my left hand. My fingers move instinctively as Jesu charges at me, roaring with sweltering agony.

A step to the right saves me from a stray bolt of obsidian, thanks to Canyon's heightened senses. And from there, I fall into my groove, my every movement precise, each bullet fired with purpose. The tension in my Golden Eyes increases as shining tears begin to fall. Whether that is to stave off heat or due to the pain, I'll never know, but I ignore the bother. The stakes are too high to give in to weakness if that is indeed the reason.

With every passing second, God follows me further from my city, from my home. I can feel the weight of my people's hopes resting on my shoulders, their faith in me driving me forward. I am their shield, their sword, their leader, and I will not let them down. My little girl's face matches the imprints of the horizon's heated air. Amelia.

I can not let them down. Not again.

There are too many faces, too many people, too many... depending on me. And I'm not even the strongest. Flashes of Wyatt's young but hardened smile flicker past as I tighten my focus further.

Farther. We need to go farther. Wyatt... he's alive. I know he is. But... The Gate of Death was shattered. It'll take time for him to crawl his way through. We need him. Only he can do it. Only he can end this war once and for all. Not because he's the strongest. But because when all is said and done, the only way the fighting stops is with him being the last. The others... they will always desire more. But not that boy. I know him. He can control his inner monsters. He had a good mother, unlike those... monsters.

It's a good thing... time is the one thing I can buy with these eyes.

The God's relentless pursuit leaves no room for error. I never thought I could underestimate a God, but it appears I have. The endless training, the constant refinement of my Ether and my Power, and my recent Virtue are just not enough. Sure, my eyes can see a half-second ahead in time, but it matters little at this moment. I'm hardly quick enough with that advantage to dodge Jesu.

Nonetheless, I fall into the most comfortable stances and boost my guns with Ether, each shot exploding from the barrels with a thunderous roar. Sighing, I release the shattered handle of Fate Sealer, letting the Colt fall into the ruined grass below. I can't Glitch it anymore. The cost builds up after every time, something that didn't matter before, but with these extended fights...

The impact of tossing the weapon shakes my bones, but I draw new guns from my belt and rewind the one I've just fired with a quick flick of my eyes. In just another shot, I'll have to do the opposite, dropping the left Colt and Glitching the right.

My bullets become a storm of metal and fire, deflecting raging bolts of magma and intercepting the God's swings with precision. Each deflection sends the God off balance, his attacks growing more frenzied and less controlled. I even manage to land a few clean hits, my bullets shearing through his molten skin and drawing dark crimson blood that sizzles as it hits the ground.

But this is a God. My endurance has shot into the sky from Canyon and Heather's guidance, yet I am in no way close to a being like this. In the end... I might have to rely on... it.

The battle stretches on, a test of endurance and will with each second on my end. Every exchange is a dance on the edge of death, my movements driven by instinct and sheer determination. But as the minutes drag into an eternity, exhaustion starts to weigh me down. My eyes blur, the strain of warping time and the physical toll of the fight eroding my precision.

In a critical moment, my vision falters, both the present and the future. I misjudge a shot, and the bullet goes wide. The God seizes the opportunity, a slab of burning obsidian ripping from the ground and hurtling toward me. I try to twist out of the way, but it's too late. I see it hit me before it does. The obsidian strikes me with the force of an erupting volcano, and I'm sent flying across the landscape, just as before.

This time, I can't rewind. The impact knocks the breath from my lungs, and my vision goes black as I lose consciousness. When I finally come to, I'm buried in a pile of rubble, the weight pressing down on me. Every inch of my body aches, my bones feel shattered, and my skin is raw and blistered.

I push against the rubble, slowly digging myself out, as I realize a hand is pulling me up as well. The pain is excruciating, but a reassuring voice helps calm me.

"Johnny Caldwell. You will not die."

My injuries don't recede, but they do weaken as I feel my whole body shift back into its former self, my younger self. There is a difference between being stronger and more vigorous. This is the latter. I inhale a long breath as I see the sky above is a dull gray, the sun long set after the hours of battle.

I cough, spitting out dust and blood, and finally manage to free myself from the debris with Elizabeth's help. She helps me to my feet, glaring at me with raw emotion. The tears in her eyes are apparent.

Oh... girl... you knew what your plans would bring. Don't give up now.

"Johnny. Don't go back out there. You'll die."

I shake my head, trudging back out to the plains toward the ocean, where I was sent crashing back into Onyx Gate. It's almost a miracle I survived. The toughness of a Virtue cannot be understated, I suppose.

"Girly, you know I have to."

Elizabeth shouts at me, grabbing my arm with a strength I wasn't expecting. Remembering she's now an Angel herself, I look at her differently. She's... so much like her. Amelia. I wonder... if I was a better father, more... there... more... present, would my little girl be this strong, too? Or would... she be better? Better than me?

"No! You don't! Natos is out there! So is the army led by him! Leave them to fight Jesu! You've already done your job! You're just a Virtue, Johnny! Stop! Please!?"

The young woman's pleas are heard. They are felt. The touching words strike me right in the heart. But I cannot listen to her. She... is too emotional right now.

It must be all the death. I cannot imagine how many she's seen die already today. With Wyatt's missing status... I can see why she is like this. Beyond that... I know how she sees me.

She comes to me more than my own daughter ever did, constantly asking for advice, training, techniques, and skills. I give her all I can. And more. But I cannot give her this, and she knows but asks anyway. It is a lesson she must learn.

We cannot have all the things we want in the world. Sometimes... sometimes giving it your all isn't enough.

"Aye. You know I ain't gonna do that. A man's word is his lead. You remind me much of my daughter, girl. Too much. Watch that temper. Rein in it for me, will you? I hate to see you walk her path."

Elizabeth's eyes blaze with the same iridescent fire as Jesu's, and I don't let her speak again before striding away, limping toward the God. I have to get away from the city again. It seems... I'll have to be more liberal with the 'Sinker.

"I've got a job to do, dear. Nothing's changed since we met, only the target."

And so, I limp toward the horizon, stepping toward the Magma in the distance, where a small volcano is forming as Jesu kills hundreds of demons who cannot hold a candle to his might. Flipping my guns in my hands, I dart forward, Accretion Ether at my ankles, to hurry beyond the speed of sound.

Still, a voice reaches me.

"Johnny Caldwell. Your eyes shall always possess light."

Instantly, my vision clears, and my target becomes clear before lead hurtles for Jesu's pupils. Chunks of obsidian crack off from his body as I break through his shields, and his attention flips back to me from the army of demons he's been cooking.

I dodge another wave of superheat mass while the demons escape. I don't like them. I'm not too fond of the lot of 'em at all, but I made a deal. And with all our strongest fighters already going at it, there is no one else to take this one but me.

Gradually, Jesu's hulking form nears me, the heat scalding my skin as the water in the air evaporates. Still, I don't give up, even as I start to run low on Colts. I left Earl's shop with forty-four. Now I'm down to ten.

The battle quickly becomes the exact same as before, a brutal dance with death as I realize that I can't kill this being. Not as I am now and not as I will ever be. I've only made it this far thanks to the sacrifices of many, many others.

And so... my eyes fall onto the incision at my wrist. Elizabeth's words flash, her desire for my survival, but...

I'm sorry, girly. Sometimes, it just ain't about who's faster on the draw. Sometimes, one has to get shot to win to a duel.

I dart in close, wanting Jesu to overextend, to reach for a lethal blow. Of course, I haven't just given up on my life quite yet. If I'm fast enough, Golden Eye could still save me. The key here... is to get the bomb as far from me as possible, yet it still has to be unnoticed. These things are useless if they are disabled before their eruption.

Thankfully, I see his movements before he makes them. A hammer of magma juts out for me, and I slide underneath it, feeling my back burn up. Before I manage to get back up, my Colts lash out, breaking apart his next strike without me looking. Then, I fake a stumble, acting as though my eyes have failed me once more.

I learned this trick from Lennon. Feigning weakness to win is not an uncommon strategy for him.

Stretching out my right arm as if reaching for my balance, I watch a blade of magma soar for me. Twisting my whole body, I end up only with my right arm flying through the air. I watch, for a moment, as the limb glides toward Jesu. A vision blinds me of the future, but I can only ignore it. There are some things more important than others.

With my remaining hand, I draw my gun and aim at the severed limb. My fingers tighten around steel as I feel my heart set ablaze with purpose, aiming directly for Jesu. The bullet flies for the God as he shifts slightly, counterattacking at the same time, but it never reaches me.

A Glitch falls onto the bullet, rewinding it a fraction of a fraction of a second, my shortest Glitch ever, as the bullet continues its usual trajectory, only delayed, and strikes my wrist in the air.

With bated breath, I feel the world pause, a brief glint of light coming from the incision of last resort.

Time seems to slow as the light emerges from the incision on my wrist, radiance spilling forth and filling the world around me.

The God of Magma stands at the epicenter, his eyes widening as the light engulfs him. We never shared even a single word, only fighting while the world collapsed around us. Not an ounce of sorrow is felt. I feel the intense heat before the explosion even reaches me, and I know I have no time to react. Anyone else in the world wouldn't even have the eyes to see the light.

Summoning every ounce of my strength, I use my Golden Eyes to their fullest potential, rewinding myself as fast as I possibly can while drawing on Elizabeth's aid to its limit. The Ether in my body burns just as painfully in my pupils as the heat does around me.

The detonation boils me to a crisp countless times, each rewind barely keeping me ahead of the devastating blast. My skin chars and regenerates in an endless cycle of agony, but I hold on, gritting my teeth against the searing pain. The heat remains for what feels like an eternity, scorching everything in its path.

Gradually, the inferno begins to subside at the epicenter, and I stumble out of the blaze, my body a charred ruin. Charcoal cracks off me with every step, revealing raw, tender flesh beneath. My lungs burn, and I exhale smoke, each breath a struggle. But I'm alive, and that's what matters.

Blindness overtakes me, and the overuse of my eyes leaves me in total darkness. This is not what I saw. It has still not yet come to pass. The darkness makes my heart sink for what it means. Nonetheless, I raise my Colt, feeling its familiar weight in my hand. I don't need to see to know where the God of Magma is; My eyes are no longer needed to shoot. They are just for my Power. I hear a raspy breath come from the being, it struggling to find sustenance for its life, whether it is Ether or air, I do not know. Neither is nearby, all burnt away in the fires.

I face downward at it, making sure it hears something other than an explosion as its final courtesy.

"You Gods... are right. We're... useless flesh bags... but that's the thing... it's us who tore down your empire a millennia ago, and we'll do it again. Because... no matter... how many... you kill... there will... be another."

With a final, determined breath, I pull the trigger. The gunshot rings out, echoing across the now-silent battlefield. The bullet finds its mark, striking Jesu between his cracking eyes on his kneeling figure. There's a moment of silence, and then I hear the thud of his slightly raised body hitting the ground.

It's over. I stand there, swaying on my feet, every part of me screaming in pain. But we've won. I've done my duty and protected my people.

As I collapse to my knees, the weight of the battle finally catching up with me, I allow myself a moment of relief, but arms catch me before I hit the floor.

"Johnny Caldwell. You will not die today."

There is an emphasis on today as if Elizabeth knows that she is asking for something impossible, so she tries to bargain. Coughing out blood and bits of my lungs, I reassure her, even as she carries me to a nearby boulder charred by the heat.

"It's alright, girly. I'm an old man at this point. Too old for a gunslinger. We normally don't live this long. Most die... early."

I remember my early days, fumbling for a cigar in my pockets while thinking back to all the others who used to walk the path of guns. Unfortunately, the nature of them is too precise. One fuck up... a single missed shot, and it's all over. Most gunslingers don't train their bodies, just their hands and eyes. We aren't as durable as Wyatt or as nail-tough as Lennon. Plus... we're trained quickly for the masses. A swordsman... that takes years to create one capable of matching a marksman of just a few months. Still... that short training ends in many deaths regardless of how effective it is.

My shaking hands drop the cigar, but Elizabeth swoops it out of the air, stowing it to my trembling lips. Unable to thank her, I simply inhale as she lights it for me, doing something so unnecessary instead of saving more lives.

Teary words cut through the smoke in my lungs, burning just as painfully as the Godsinker.

"I thought you quit? Why... Why did you have to come back from Gravescross? Why... couldn't you have just stayed out of this fight!? We... we can—"

"We cannot win. We all know this deep down. And yet, we fight anyway. And that is why we will win. Girly. There are no half-measures. It is all or nothing. You're either the last standing or the first to fall."

I cut her off, as her emotions are blinding her. She is a sweet girl forced to do the unthinkable. She's become Eli's placeholder, creating plans and schemes to sacrifice the few and save the many. How... how could she do that without including me?

It... isn't right. Others do not deserve to die in my place. That is why I did not allow someone else to use that bomb in my stead. Not anymore will such a thing happen. It might be hypocritical after Sacate, Heath, and the others, but... in truth... I'm tired. I'm... so tired.

"But why?"

The sniffles tell me all I need to know, and I wrap my arm around her as vestiges of my vision return. I can see her blearily, but still, it is enough. Her short hair and running tears overlay with Amelia's on her last day alive. At the same time, my vision shifts, the Virtue within leading me ahead. I smile as I see Elizabeth grow her hair out again, holding the hand of a little girl at her hips, with eyes identical to hers. They... they stand before a grave. It is the bigger one that wipes away tears, not the little one, however.

"You know the answer, kid. A Hunter steps up for what he believes in. Dry your eyes. Look ahead. Time waits for no one. Not even I. Don't feel bad, Elizabeth. I am a Hunter, and so are you. The Old Blood is few in number and only decreasing, but you are a part of that few. You think like us. You act like us. Just... be careful of our failures."

A shaky inhale follows my words as I manage to get the rest of what I want out, staring at her figure for as long as possible. My thoughts are filled with a long life of strife, battles, love, and loss. Blake lingers for just as long as my late wife does, for just as long as Amelia. Still, they fall to the wayside of something more present. There are always somethings more important than others. And... I only have one last thing I can say before it's all over.

That vision shifts to the most important scene that will ever come. But... something tells me I have to speak to her, to Elizabeth, or it'll never come to pass. I am sorry, Blake. I am sorry. If my eyes were not burnt to shreds, I would be crying for you, my dear. I promise. I... I promise.

My best friend's words echo in my heart as answers that only the Native ever knew.

"Time won't be patient for you to grieve. It is only normal for me to die for such brilliant sprouts like you. Just like he would say… Bloom, my beautiful girl, become a brilliant tree to shroud the fragile in their woes with your leaves. You will have to fight. No matter what."