Deadshot

I look at this man, confused, as he takes a pull of his cigarette. How in the hell did he get here? Is he one of the Hunters that Edmund said disappeared from his sight? And what the hell is he talking about? I go to voice my curiosity, but a firm palm on my shoulder shuts me up before I even start.

Edmund's. But quickly, I feel that palm shake nervously as he whispers so softly into my ear it's almost inaudible.

"Be very careful with what you say. That is Alexos, the Phantom Pain. A 6th Sigiled Outlaw. He could kill me very easily even if I wasn't exhausted. Try to get out of this without fighting; he clearly is interested in you."

And I look at the man in a new light with the information provided by Edmund. He certainly doesn't look like an Outlaw. He has no scars, nor does he look adamant like the ones I've seen. And Phantom Pain? What kind of title is that? Does he move like a Phantom?

Ma told me a few stories of Phantoms that my father had fought. Quick, deadly, and capable of phasing through the tangible. If I remember correctly, he had to burn them to kill them.

These thoughts make me activate Chain Eyes in curiosity and the need to know. Unfortunately, immediately upon activation, I'm hit with a significant push onto my mind, making my headache even worse and almost making me visibly flinch.

I see a dark blue set of almost physical chains tightly wrapping around Alexos. The chains even actively dig into his skin in my sight.

I would've thought 6th Sigiled people would have violet or purple chains. Following a rainbow, right? Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, violet. I guess not, then. Makes me even more curious about what 7th, 8th, and 9th have in store color-wise.

I wish to continue my thinking and exploration into my ability, but Alexos, the threat in front of us, speaks up, his voice clearly mocking.

"So, is that the famous Bloodhound I see? Why are you here with this abomination, Dudley? Where are your trainees?"

I feel Edmund's grip tighten on my shoulder, almost making me wince in pain before he answers. But I do notice a bloody handprint on my shirt's shoulder. I even feel a cool sensation enter my shoulder, like being dipped in water. I stay quiet about the feeling, however, and trust Edmund.

"I'm currently training this kid to be a Hunter. Is there a problem, sir?"

Alexos' face contorts into a scowl, and he growls out a response.

"Of course. An abomination like him ought to be put down. Soulless bastards, the all of them."

Unable to hold my tongue, I blurt out.

"What do you mean soulless? I'm right here, you know!"

Alexos looks at me for a brief moment. Then chuckles.

"You truly do not know what you are. A Graves with so little training. What a treat. Do you know how mad your family is? Especially your father, little beast?"

I go to respond, and as I do, I hear another whisper from Edmund, laced with dire concern.

"Careful."

"No, I don't, is my father not a powerful Hunter, or at the very least was one? How is he mad? Are you, not the mad one? Are you, not an Outlaw?"

An even louder chuckle, this time, enters my ear, but it comes from behind me. I quickly turn my head, and I see Alexos behind me. Turning back, he is also in front of me. What's happening?

Before I can figure out this phenomenon, Alexos extravagantly raises his arms and proclaims a wild accusation.

"Maybe once upon a time. But he has become rabid. About twenty years ago, he went around butchering villages and collecting the blood of innocents. I was out doing a research project with some other academics. Massacred the whole town and left after taking all the hearts of every person in the village. And I began my righteous crusade against him, which allowed me to see how vile he and your family truly are. Too bad the other powerful Hunters don't like it when someone goes for one of their own. But who cares if others see me as evil or as an Outlaw? The one I hunt is far worse. Worse than most demons I've seen or otherplanars I've heard of."

I glance at Edmund for confirmation of this information, and he nods. Is my father truly that terrible of a man? Of course, but how could he be? Ma has told me so many stories of him saving people. Never of him hurting innocents. How could they not tell me!? Edmund has even mentioned him many times, yet he never spoke about this. Edmund then speaks in my stead because of my silent contemplation.

"So what if his father went mad? It's common in our field, especially for one like The Undying, who constantly fought battles with those who follow the lower Gods. It has no correlation with Wyatt. The kid is untainted."

Once again, a chuckle appears; this time, from above us, I look up. Again, nothing. I noticed this time that Edmund didn't look around. Is he making illusions? Is Edmund not hearing this? I turn back to Alexos.

Alexos continues raptly.

"Tsk, tsk. You see, that's just plain incorrect. I went through the records. Every single one of his family has gone mad and killed thousands. Sure, they serve at first and do so gloriously, but they kill as many as they save. And the only special part about Killian, compared to the others, is that his kid has become a Sigiled before his death."

Edmund falters in his defense of me. I see him look at me with a little bit of worry and indecision. But he quickly pushes this doubt aside and looks back to Alexos.

"And how does this happen? Surely there is a way to stop it if what yur' saying is true."

Alexos replies more standardly this time but stares into my eyes the whole time.

"It happens because they are missing portions of their soul. At least, that's what I think. Every one of them exhibits traits of abnormality. I studied to discover that his grandmother, Koral, couldn't feel sadness. This caused her to be unable to understand when others felt pain. His father, who I figured out on my own with fights against the man, cannot feel pain of any kind. It seems as though he might not even feel emotional pain. I wonder what your vice is, Wyatt; what will lead you to your tomb? No empathy? Maybe it's the same as your father's sadness? Enjoy pain? Or inflicting it?"

My mind shakes in surprise and confusion at what Alexos is saying until he begins addressing me directly. And each time he finishes a question, I feel deeply about what he is saying.

When the word empathy leaves his mouth, I feel intense sorrow, hate, and rage that seems to come from before me. And before I can even understand these emotions, he continues speaking.

When the word sadness leaves his mouth, I feel deep heartbreak and grief, followed by tears flowing out of my eyes. Overwhelmed, I wipe my eyes, but he doesn't stop talking.

When the word pain leaves his mouth, I feel such incredible pain that it makes me double over and fall to one knee, gasping. My only solace is that when he finishes his questions, the last one only leaves me with a sense of guilt as I am still reeling from the others.

But amid my overwhelming emotions and mind-numbing pain, I realize why he's called the Phantom Pain. It has nothing to do with Phantoms but the concept of phantom pain. He can affect minds and make them feel what's not really there. That must be why Edmund could not hear the voices from different directions.

He creates specialized illusions or something similar. I do what I can to stand again and focus on Alexos, but my feet fail me. The staggering onslaught of emotions made me lose my hold on Physical Strengthening and Chain Eyes. No longer can I do anything but kneel on the leaf-covered ground and pant heavily. I can barely even look ahead as I see Alexos slowly walking toward Edmund and me.

I miss what Alexos and Edmund say next due to the sudden attack on my mind. But it appears to be something that riles up Edmund.

Worry rises within me as Alexos dangerously approaches further. Then Edmund leans down and whispers to me.

"Draw yur' iron kid'. Take the shot when yur' sure. I trust you."

And before I can respond, leaves burst into the air as a figure rushes past me.

Edmund.

I endeavor to force my dominant right arm to rise and pull the Lily from the holster, but I can't even move it. My left arm is even more dead. Just a hunk of lead attached to my shoulder. Not to mention my legs are tingly and numb. And so, I'm just forced to watch, forced to watch the old man who has taught me so much dash toward what is likely certain doom, all for me. And I can do nothing to help. Too weak to even raise an arm despite his plea.

Edmund arrives in front of Alexos as he swings his arm forward, and a sanguine blade appears directly from his arm. Alexos does not attempt to dodge or block as the edge rides past him.

Just more laughs appear all around us before his voice reappears.

"Ya'know, Dudley, you could have just left. The boy must die, but you're a respected veteran. Fought for many years and trained future Hunters for double that. A hundred would come to your aid should you give the call. I give respect where it's deserved. You don't have to die today."

Edmund doesn't reply verbally. Instead, he snarls and opens a massive gash on his arm with his fingernail. More blood flows out of him as his face clearly begins to pale. Then he creates a vast crescent wave of thin, sharpened blood and sends it out to his right.

It sails through the air and cuts through a multitude of trees and shrubs before Edmund calls the blood back and holds it attached to his arm, similar to a gauntlet or bracer.

Alexos once again laughs and says a simple response.

"Okay. Message received."

Then out of nowhere, the man appears in front of Edmund again. And this time, he fights with him, swiftly drawing a knife and stabbing it toward the old man. Edmund responds with a small sidestep, just perfect enough to dodge the blow, evidence of his experience. But before he can entirely avoid it, I hear him gasp in pain and look to his right, where there is nothing. And so, a knife plunges into Edmund's left side.

Alexos must have made him think there was another attack or something.

My brief thought is barely fast enough to flow to my mind before Edmund counterattacks. A spike of blood shoots up from the ground, and Alexos is forced to draw another knife. And as he pulls it, Alexos deftly deflects the spear before bringing the second knife to Edmund's neck without even taking out his first.

Without missing a beat and a split-second before his carotid is slashed, a pane of blood emerges from Edmund's right eye, blocking the slash. Edmund is exhausted; that is obvious, but the old man has many tricks.

And I think Alexos attempts to affect Edmund's mind again as I see Edmund look right and pause with eyes filled with fear. Then, refusing to fall for the illusion again, he ignores it and returns to Alexos. And thankfully so, as he had pulled out his first dagger while definitely masking the pain of its retrieval, or it would have alarmed the old man.

I see Edmund try to take the initiative and make a sweeping kick with his right leg, which is covered in bloody spikes. Alexos jumps over the swipe before throwing his dagger at the back of the leg that passes him. And it sinks deep into the calf of Edmund as he grunts in pain.

Edmund then tries to ignore the pain and keep fighting as he swiftly glances back at me, paralyzed in exhaustion. And while looking back at Alexos, I can see the side of his face narrow in focus and desperation.

Their fight continues at a rapid and life-threatening pace for Edmund as I push myself to raise my arm. But this time, I do more than just physically try and lift it. This time I force Ether into my right arm, my mind immediately spiking in pain. Then, like a hammer, just beat against it. And eventually, through shaky vision, I watch as my arm moves to the holster.

Just as my hand reaches the grip of the Lily and its smooth, cool sensation enters my hand, I feel warm liquid trickle down my nose and into my mouth. I taste the iron in my own blood. And the dripping blood gives me an idea.

Edmund can use blood to fight, but it doesn't have to be his own. Just willing blood so as not to affect him. And I may be feeble, but that has nothing to do with lost blood; I have plenty to spare.

So, with a force of pure will, I draw the Lily and bring it in front of me, but I do not aim or fire it. Instead, I yell at Edmund, despite the sledgehammer that knocks on my brain from the loud noise.

"Old man! Use my blood to fight! You'll kill yourself otherwise."

Both Edmund and Alexos pause for a short, very brief moment to look at me. Then Edmund shakes his head with a yell.

"No!"

Why would he give up on extra firepower? More blood would clearly give him at least a better chance, right?

Edmund then turns back to the fight amidst my thoughts, and Alexos mocks his decision.

"Heh, he's offering you help, and you turn it down. Aren't you so unthankful? Or are you too scared to take his blood? Because you see him as one of your lost children, Dudley?"

I can hear Edmund's teeth grit and jaw tighten from here, over twenty feet away from the scuffle. Edmund replies simply, his teeth closed so tight that it stops blood from leaking.

"Shut up. You know nothing."

Alexos smiles before attempting to take advantage of Edmund's distracting thoughts by going in for a grapple. Edmund is unfazed, however, and pushes Alexos to the side as he brings up a knee vertically with a scarlet blade attached to its front. And yet, Alexos still dodges backward, even if just barely. Then he stepped back once more before continuing his scornful remarks.

"Oh, quite the contrary. Y'know, it's a very well-known thing. Your eldest was known for having perfect resonance, after all. For one of his talents to fall so young is a shame. Such a shame. I reckon he could have reached my skills at the minimum, perhaps even taking the leap above. And your shame, no? I mean, if you had ever used only your own blood to start with, most of your children would still be alive."

Edmund's kids died because of him using other people's blood? That.. actually makes a lot of sense. It explains why he refused to use others' blood in a fight. Even the blood of his enemies. Maybe it's less of a restriction based on his powers and more of a mental one.

I see Edmund almost fume in rage, and I call out to him.

"Edmund! It'll be fine. Just use my blood. It can't get any worse, can it? The bastard is toying with us."

Edmund turns to look at me as Alexos smiles with glee.

"Well, this sure will be interesting. Go on. Go ahead. Kill your newest child, you dog, I won't stop it."

The old man sighs in defeat, suffused with frustration, and steps back closer to me while watching Alexos closely. Then once he is close to me, he whispers into my ear while I kneel on the ground.

"Are you sure Wyatt? The last time I took someone else's blood, it consumed me."

I nod with determination. And reply to him verbally with the last bit only mouthed

"Yes, just don't take too much. I still need to aim."

He smiles, seeing that I have not yet given up. Then he bends over and places his hand on my shoulder. And once his hand rests upon me, he takes a breath and silently utters a lonely word.

"Take."

I feel a vast siphon of strength leave my already near-collapsing body as I see a stream of blood flow straight out of my skin, through my worn-out shirt, and into Edmund's body. Then the old man stands directly, seemingly younger, less wrinkled, and more energetic.

I fall forwards from my kneel, no longer able to sit up. But I can position my arm outward if I must fire the Lily. Edmund glances at my fallen form before returning to the threat at hand, Alexos.

Who, in turn, claps his hands maniacally and bursts into admiration

.

"There he is! There's the Bloodhound, who used to be famous all across the territories. For his wit! For his drive! And lastly, for his bite! How come you never advanced further? Certainly, it's not talent. It is that pathetic–"

In the middle of Alexos speaking, Edmund rushes into action. Covering ground at a blistering speed such that I have trouble following with my eyes before he tackles Alexos to the ground, raising leaves and dust into the air. Alexos, who is obviously surprised, takes several moments to get out of the grapple and push himself away from Edmund. But in those moments, Edmund rips several chunks of Alexos' flesh with his hands and teeth.

My eyes widen. How brutal. Truly a hound that's out for blood. For the next minute or so, Edmund hounds after and chases Alexos with incredible perseverance. Wounds don't bother him. They heal almost instantly. He moves with animalistic intent and speed. Sometimes even dodging attacks by pushing on his arms and legs before pouncing once again.

I take this minute to gather my strength and force what remains of me to cock back the lever on my the Lily. Then I am with an incredibly shaking hand, and while I lay on my stomach, I wait for an opportunity, like Edmund said. Surely the Lily will kill this man. Or at least do some good damage. It's obliterated everything in the past, so it'll be fine here.

And after a few moments, I find the chance. Edmund has pushed Alexos closer to me over time, and at this current moment, his entire body is open to me. I prepare to squeeze the trigger as I see Edmund land a cut to Alexos' side as he gasps in pain.

I refuse to let myself miss this chance to remove this threat. Once I am sure I won't miss, with the iron sights on his heart, I pull the trigger. And the instant I do, time moves slowly, and my heart sinks without knowing why.

But I figure out why almost instantly. The Alexos between me and Edmund wholly disappears as another one appears behind Edmund. And without anything to take the unstoppable bullet of the Lily, It continues onwards and enters Edmund's heart.