Four-flusher

***************************

Eli 'Underground Tree' Weiss

Holding the Devil's gaze, I let my attention slip momentarily to intuit Lennon's wounds. The investigation is simple and lasts only a singular moment, as anyone can see the depth and profundity of the damage. Still, the God doesn't move to help. He can only observe the rapidly dying man.

Why doesn't he help? Can he not? Is he weaker than I thought, being a God and all, or is manipulating this place more difficult than imagined?

I suppose either could be true. I do wonder what his Power is. If only I could... No. That is the Call. Focus. Holding all these Powers with my soul is not simple. The less I have, the longer I can bear them without issue.

As of now, I have only four. Tunnel, Harrow, Duplicate, and Rush. All simple names, just as the demons who used to own them were. If only I still possessed those from before that battle... It is unfortunate that they were pulled from me when I lost consciousness.

Shift and Snap were an ideal combination.

Lennon gurgles on his own blood, even at the doorstep, still kicking his whole way to the beyond. Sighing, I relinquish my demands to the Devil, and I stride over to the man. I stare down at his form, noting his missing heart.

He ruined my plans on the surface, forcing me to live the rest of my days in this Vessel. A small part of me wants to let him die for that. But I know better. I only wanted him dead before because I figured that my strength would be more important than his.

It is ironic that I was utterly false. He did just kill an Offspring, an enemy of mankind, of the whole waking world, that had crept on the edges for millennia, luring countless minds to madness. I don't think that I could do that, even now.

"Better I keep you alive, huh? Tough bastard."

The people around the dying man hardly give me any attention, but the 'leader' Birdie, calling the shots to care for Lennon, looks up at me. No malice or aggression can be seen in the flickering flames that replace her eyes. She simply nods to me and pleads for help.

"Can you help him? Don't know not who you are, but..."

I return the kind gesture and kneel beside the group, recognizing Silas, Otto, and Marion from my research on Johnny's men. As I look around, though, I see a suspicious lack of that volatile young woman. My hand goes into the pack at my hip, and I draw out a crimson syringe. This thing... it's invaluable.

The process to get it was... not ideal, to say the least. Back then, over a decade ago, Vincent and I had a scare regarding his health. We both thought he was going to die either from his wounds or his age. And we had a lead on an old ruin once said to be owned by the Timewarped Delver once upon a time.

There were not enough minds and hands to work at a moment's notice. Too many refused, so I had to get... creative. Murder, blackmail, fraud, and all the works. Anything to get our hands on what was inside the place. Within the depths of the workshop of the ruins, there were three vials of a rejuvenation fluid. One that is potent enough to even bring back those who had died within the past ten minutes.

Unfortunately, one was stolen and delivered to Leviathan during the expedition. The thief killed a manager of the mission and framed another for it. The truth wasn't known until I personally came and figured it all out.

But the vial was already lost. Then, I gave the Prime a vial for his own health. After that... I've held onto this one. It was supposed to activate post-mortem in those caves after my Vessel drug my body through the gate, but not all things go as planned.

There were too many there for me to do anything other than transfer my Sigil without risking total death. All this is to... shit. It's getting worse. I'm rambling even with my own thoughts. The focus must be on the crucial question.

Do I give him the vial?

None of my drugs are potent enough to reverse what has been done to him. Only the fluid in the red syringe is enough. Is he worth it, though? It's not like I can use it anymore in this Vessel. But Lennon Hull?

Two years ago, and this would have been the least likely scenario. But who else? Neither of the Graves would want it, and they would refuse to even accept it from me. I doubt it would do much for a God. Beyond that, no one else is worth taking it.

But to save a Dominion-level human from dying?

Clicking my tongue, the porcelain producing a loud clang, I extend my arms and sink the needle into Lennon's neck. A glowing, iridescent, purple eye glares at me from across the body as I do so. Unable to smile at the consequential cost of this act, I greet something I thought would have died.

"Hello, Mie. It is a shame what has happened."

I offer genuine condolences, but she doesn't want to hear them at all. At least her new 'partner' can keep her anger down somewhat, for nothing hits me while I inject the fluid into Lennon.

Still, the Undead woman beside me questions me.

"What are you doing?"

Finishing the injection, I pull the syringe back, lamenting the empty capsule now. There it goes. The last of its kind. Though, perhaps Leviathan still has hers.

"Saving his life. It'll take a few minutes, but he's fine now. More importantly, Birdie. You should enter the arena he was in. I'll take the third one."

"But you..."

The woman gazes up at me, surprised by my words. However, I must say that what I am about to do is not ideal. Ire is not my most fantastic matchup; the legends of his Dominion and Power have been sprinkled on me by Vincent. If I could fight Gorgeous, I'd have a much better chance of winning.

Before I go, however, there are some loose ends I'd like to guarantee.

"Devil. You know you must let me through. Holding that last arena frozen stalls your ability to add more to the other fights. Let me through. I can... maintain my own for a while. Worst case, I die, right? Best case... I win."

The God twists and faces me, shifting his focus from the grand wall of translucent gold. His muscles tremble, and ichor trickles from his mouth, but it's his look that worries me more. And his words.

"I hate you, Weiss. There are some depravities you should never reach with power as a goal."

I nod, understanding his point, but it doesn't matter. I need him to do this now. Or else the father and son will die alongside the assassin. Eldest is not someone they can kill. Not with just three. I reckon... two more is the minimum. All Virtues, at least, too. That means Silas and Aniwye must be sent through.

"I get your discomfort with me, but—"

"Go. If you die, I will not allow for anything with your soul other than damnation."

I scoff, meeting the God's eyes. He doesn't waver or back down, showing me what's in store for the afterlife. I know souls are devoured by Death into her gullet. That's where the saying comes from. But I also know that the Red Judge has some control over that process.

Still... when I set upon this path long ago, I knew. I knew that I would never have a good ending. I knew that at journey's end, when the wars are over, or even midway through, I would never get to see that sunlight at the end of the tunnel.

I'd never get to see the fruits of my necessary evil. And that's alright. I didn't do any of it for recognition or satisfaction. I did what I did because someone had to do it. Humanity only stands today because of the shadows I formed and the cruelties I performed while our Prime was away.

"I expected nothing else, sir. Eternal damnation is a worthy price compared to what the future will bring due to the time I bought."

The Devil closes his eyes, breathing in deeply with his old wrinkled face. It's odd to see someone so aged other than Vincent, but the God's chest rises and fills with power before he offers a hand to me.

"I will not know which mural to put you on."

I only hear the words as golden light washes over me, placing me within an arena like all the others. What did he mean by that? Shaking my head, I refocus upon the demon opposite me. Ire, or Ireful, as some have called her in the harsh whispers amongst the powerful. Only Virtues and Dominions have been privy to such information in the past due to their danger.

A tall female demon with alabaster wings capable of flight and clothing made entirely of igneous rock. Without the need to stretch due to not having carbon-based muscles, I flex my soul instinctively. My Dominion calls out to the Powers I've taken with Icarus. If only my Power was more combat-focused, I wouldn't need all of these. Though, if it was, it'd have been impossible to keep track of all the Territories at once.

Tunnel, Harrow, Duplicate, and Rush, I feel each of them at once as bundles of essence that I've stored beside my soul. They are attached to me, and if I hold them for long enough, I believe they will become permanent. At that point, the death of their original owner wouldn't matter.

Flicking my hand toward Ireful as the demon lunges toward me, space already beginning to distort, I let the third Power flow through me. It's definitely my most useful, but it is far more limited than Myriad's similar Power.

A second porcelain doll forms beside me. It shares everything I have, other than a soul, meaning I have to manually control it. Plus, it can only use the Powers I give to it. Of which, I slide the Duplicate the second Power, Harrow.

Tunnel is too versatile to share, capable of creating holes in anything, from rocks to flesh upon touch, while Rush will help keep me alive. The momentum and speed may only be one-dimensional, but I can work with that.

Unfortunately for me, however, this Vessel is not meant to conduct Ether. None of them were. That means I'm wholly reliant on my Powers here. Even using an average skill would break off portions of my body. And without a way to quickly repair myself, a Dzil like Mental Expansion would cripple me without a doubt.

So, as the vastness of the cosmos surrounds me, my soul forces the Powers to work in tandem, bypassing the Ether restriction of my new body. Ireful doesn't say a word to me, meaning complete business with those murderous eyes.

But as we near each other, the stars form above, and a growl comes from her rock-covered throat.

"You all have killed my sister! How dare you, pitiful things! You... you cretins! I'll burn you to ash! And all those who you love! All those who love you! ALL THINGS!"

I can't help but grin at how on the nose her name is. Additionally, I laugh at her threat. This demon has no idea who I am. My Duplicate sprints toward the falling sun, releasing a plague toward it with Harrow, the Ether-born disease eating into radiance.

"All those you wish to kill are long dead. Either by my own hands or because of them. There are no memories for you to torment me with."

The demon sputters, incapable of believing my words. Or... she's noticing something. Vincent warned me about each of the Offspring.

Eldest is unfathomable, born from some ancient man of incredible talent. The depths of his skills are endless because he shares a mind with all those affected by Darklight. He is a hivemind, the conglomeration of all the non-divine aspects of the Mother Below. He shares Powers, Virtues, and Dominions, though not all at once. He picks and chooses for the circumstance.

Gorgeous is irresistible. None can ignore her charms, her voice, or her presence. Even Lennon Hull faltered when simply called lonely. Thankfully, that Dominion doesn't work as well with Eldest due to it being strengthened so massively by Gorgeous's Sigils.

And finally, Ireful is inexcusable. She thrives with torment, suffering, hate, pain, and all those negative emotions. Like my late friend, she can turn emotions into power, growing the most with anger and self-loathing. I, however, am not so easy to manipulate.

Falling into the Vessel's habits, I let my emotions fade. It is risky, but it is worth it. Without anger, pain, or any of those things, including the positive ones, Ireful will be significantly more vulnerable.

The first falling sun fades away to the disease, becoming nothing but a fireball by the time it lands beside me. The heat washes over my porcelain without issue, but it is not nearly enough to affect the polymer created explicitly for my Vessels.

Ireful screams with rages, her wings expanding and exploding with light as she rushes toward me. Open claws lash for my throat, and I take a step to my side, twisting my body as Icarus uses another Power.

Rush hurtles me past Ireful while I toss a Tunnel her way. Space itself is warped and cut through, caving an inch-wide burrow through her right side and out the other. The demon howls in pain, shifting to face me while Darklight washes down her frame.

Here it comes. What did the Darklight make for her? Gorgeous didn't get the chance to show it off, and Vincent never actually fought any of these beings in person. As such, he never figured out what the Darklight manifested.

Like the Grayskins of the southwest, Motherbound incorporate additional powers alongside their Sigils. The only difference is that the Grayskins do not owe and devote themselves to a higher power, as they borrow strength from the Boulevard. The impoverished race is so far from all the grim wars. It leaves them safe but weak. Despite their gifts, they will hold no place in this race for Godhood. One who borrows such as they could never reach the heights required.

Pressing on my mind, I return to focus. Without emotions, I tend to trail off on rants, even within my own mind. Am I becoming too mechanical? Like a training dummy, only capable of spewing out the pre-recorded lessons and words?

Unsure, I leap at Ireful as that very same substance washes over her, painting her body into a new form. A pair of horns grows over her head while the igneous rock melts away to reveal obsidian tightly wrapped around her figure. The blackened glass flows onto her hands with sharpened claws, reflecting the light of the stars above.

Another scream fills the air, but it's more like a Banshee's wail. In fact... this might be where the term comes from. A transformation, huh? It'll probably increase her speed, reflexes, and strength considerably. I'll have to—

Ireful sinks into the cosmic floor below us like it's a liquid. With ripples that reach me, she enters the fabric of her realm. Immediately, I search for her with my eyes and ears, but nothing emerges to hint at her presence. My Duplicate rushes for another crashing star, using the same method to deal with it. Right. Just as Gorgeous' attraction was amplified by her Sigils, Ire's cosmic realm is the same.

The heat gradually dissipates from the disease-like construct of Ether born from the Duplicate's hand, but a figure emerges from the sun, shadowed by the light. Noticing the danger, I pull back my Duplicate, but it doesn't possess Rush. Consequently, I watch it get shattered into a thousand tiny pieces, mirroring what would happen to me should those obsidian claws reach me.

Ireful, after ruining my Duplicate, doesn't even land on the ground of this realm. Instead, she enters the ground again, the ripples spreading as more luminance grows from above.

I'm at quite a disadvantage without my medicines and drugs or my diverse skills. That's alright, though. One step at a time, and I'll win.

********************

Jebediah Oswald

With an ache in my back, I walk out to the crops for the day, wanting to just get things over with to spend time with my family. Times are a changing. I don't know how long we got left to live, but I ain't gonna tell them all that. They deserve some peace. So, I eye my fields, noticing a bit of uplifted dirt in the distance. Confused but unworried, as soldiers have recently swept the nearby cities and towns clear of monsters, I approach it.

Bit by bit, I trudge toward the... crater? Why does it look like something crashed into it?

Groaning, I climb up the dirt to glance over the edge of the mound made by...

Two men? Huh? Wait... that one ain't no man! It's a damned Nahullo!

I bring my revolver from my hip, something I ain't ever leave the house without, to point at the lanky fellow... covered in an unlivable amount of blood. Still, my everything shakes just staring at the monster. Flickering my eye to the human, I kick him slightly with my boot. Though... he's damn bloodied, too. His ankle is also jutting out in the wrong direction.

"Hey! Wake up!"

A grumble of pain flows from the man, letting me know he's still alive, but as the fellow opens his eyes, I nearly pull the trigger on him for how his pupils look. They're... golden crosses, the pupil of black itself nowhere to be seen.

"Shit... What's your name, sir?"

The croaking of a voice surprises me. How can he talk? His... he's got more blood outside than in! Oh... shit... He must be one of them Wondrouses, right! I hear they're inhumanly strong! Stepping back for my own sake, I answer him carefully.

"Jebediah, my lord. A farmer."

The laugh that comes from the man is nothing but joy, the sheer bliss of life, something I never thought I'd hear from one of these people. Sitting up with more blood flowing out, the man pats the Nahullo like an old friend.

"Ha... Thank you, Jebediah. I'm Johnny Caldwell. This is Ytern. We... uh... Haha. Where are we? My friend and I have a demon to go visit."

My jaw can't help but tremble as I recognize the name. Johnny. It's a common name. One of the most everyday townsman names you'll hear—a farmer's name. But... Caldwell?

The Unerring Gunslinger is at my farm! The legend himself! He fought off Leviathan! That great, unstoppable demon! I heard it all the way from here, Northene! But... how did he get here? I don't let my shock overwhelm me, though, as the terror still keeps me talking.

"Northene, sir. Just south of Stillwater."

Caldwell coughs some blood into his hand as he hauls the larger figure onto his back. I don't know what else to say as Johnny nods to me in thanks. Then... he vanishes, leaving an even larger crater in his stead. With dirt falling down onto me, I freeze with his words lingering in my head.

"Thank you again. Who knows how long I would have slept without a good man to wake me up? We'll see each other again, Jebediah. I'd stay for lunch, but I have a bullet with someone's name on it."