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Tread Lightly: Among Monsters And Men

In a twisted version of the Old West, where Native American fables come to life, the land is teeming with blight and cessation. Skinwalkers, Bakwas, Urayuli, and even the dreaded Wendigo roam freely, constantly terrorizing humanity. In this unforgiving landscape, survival becomes the supreme dream, luxury an impossibility. But hope lies in Ether, an eccentric substance that defies reason, and Sigils, granting individuals extraordinary abilities. So, as men and women from the burgeoning East venture into the treacherous West, they must navigate the nightmares that lurk within the wilderness and the horrors from above, below, and within. Survival becomes a battle for the mind, body, and soul. Each step must be taken lightly, lest they fall prey to a grim fate—a forgotten corpse, a demon's feast, or the plaything of ancient and incomprehensible beings. Fools tread where angels fear to gaze, yet not all fools let themselves wilt. Some are simply too stubborn to break.

Broken_Saint · แอคชั่น
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530 Chs

Gloaming

In this pure dusk, it is clear that I am the only one who can see. Everyone else freaking out and putting their backs against the walls. Well, except for Johnny. He is doing something with his eye that I can't make out right now or have the attention to spare. Dakota, the closest to me, gets close, placing a paw against my boot as I turn my attention forward.

It's entirely silent as something in this darkness stops all noise despite the wide-open mouths of my friends, yelling for each other. But because the sound is gone, it is useless as the six creatures stand up menacingly from the floor, backs arching and spines twisting as they rotate their hips toward me.

I draw Intervention and immediately let loose with the shotgun, the cylinder spinning as fire bursts from the barrel. Everyone has pushed themselves against the walls, and Bonfire and Skychaser have covered themselves in their skills to protect themselves in the dark. The former burns himself to defend himself as only he is resistant to his flames, and the latter has lightning coursing around his body that is visible in my sight of chains.

Shots ring out from the shotgun, utterly silent as I use the last of my ammo. Otto left a few spare shells when he decided to stay in the Underworld, but they are all gone now. However, each impact of the Colt does less than usual to a few of the targets, likely the Motherbound, as they are highly resistant and regenerative due to the Darklight. Nevertheless, several fall like a sack of bricks when the flames, ignited only in my vision, hit them.

I toss the Intervention to the ground and free my spare revolver from its holster, taking aim and repeatedly firing into the approaching largest Motherbound, but this one is tough. Far more brutal than any other ones. Its arm is enlarged and grotesque, almost larger than its whole torso. And as if to prove its strength, each small caliber bullet that hits it does virtually nothing to even slow it.

A Dreadmarked it is. I can even make out the coursing Darklight on their skull that gives them the name, the shape of a palm evident on its hairless and featherless head.

I breathe out the entirety of my lungs as I glance behind me, but nothing is there besides my friends still against the wall, though Johnny seems to be doing something with his gun. Okay. I breathe in deeply as I watch the Dreadmarked charge down the hallway, its body glittering with light blue chains marked by Darklight, the silvery darkness all over its body. Behind it is the vague outline of another creature, one small and short with wings covering its body. That's likely the Taintwrought. I even spot another critter holding onto the back of the Dreadmarked.

Its features are twisted and grotesque, with a face that seems perpetually contorted in pain or anger. As I run toward them, I funnel every ounce of Ether I can, Releasing my knees for speed and power, Strugglers Defiance for overall force, and Rapturous to keep my body safe from the plaguing Darklight. The creature, a Tonguer's jaws unhinge, and I can see rows of sharp teeth gleaming in a world of chains, the mouth the gathering point of Darklight with a clattering howl.

As I move closer, I can feel the pounding of the Dreadmarked's footsteps as my body approaches its level of strength, Release doing wonders for my lower body. Removing a body's chains is far greater than merely weakening them, the limit becoming the effort placed, not the natural form.

I go one step further, unwilling to make the same mistakes as before. A deep gasp fills my lungs as my mind also splits my Daydream, strengthening my arm in exchange for the weakening of my ears. Probably the deafening of my ears with how much Ether I put into it. The gasp of Ether from Strugglers Gasp fills me with an incredible amount of Ether as the Dreadmarked stumbles slightly. Yet, it's not the only one affected negatively.

I am also struck by my skill, a bit of Darklight entering my lungs alongside the Ether obtained. The whispers that are like a thousand tiny voices appear instantly, each one whispering secrets and lies that worm their way deep into my thoughts. They make me doubt myself, my purpose, and the reality of the world around me. Each voice is an individual call to spread the taint, to join the family of the Mother, a being of infinite benevolence and warmth.

But just as quickly as they appear, they disappear, for I am already Rapturous. It is just that my intent is not toward a God but instead toward the goal I seek. The peak of Ether and my own Godhood. The Ether flowing through me breaks apart the Darklight into small chunks before having them fade into nothingness.

That, a single second before I meet the Dreadmarked in the hallway, makes me realize something. The Darklight isn't made of Ether. If it was, it wouldn't fade away like that. It would instead be expelled or converted. So is it… a Dominion? Something that doesn't require Ether and rather just the force of the soul?

Damn that God. The Mother Below's Dominion reaches us all the way here? Through thousands of people at once all over the continent? She truly is a God. One above all the others, as even the other Gods are said to have limits with their reach. That doesn't mean she deserves worship, however. The Prime is a man above all others, but he deserves no adoration.

And so, as I arrive right in front of the Dreadmarked, I see it swing its massive arm toward me in such a fashion that the fragile chains that make up the air in my sight are being ripped apart.

My mind flashes to when I saw Kai twist underneath a swing of Aniwye's, so graceful, eloquent, and perfect. Ether flashes toward my feet in a split second, instantly creating Chainlink Boots, the speed of my Ether faster than any others because of my unique Sigil. I use their sticking feature to lean back, far, far back, as I twist my body in preparation for my punch.

The giant, meaty, and grotesque fist of the Dreadmarked flies over my face, the wind alone creating lacerations on my face and almost pushing me to the ground. But my knees, bolstered by Release, and my legs held down by Chainlink Boots keep me in this backward twisted form.

And the moment the Dreadmarked opens a weakness by moving its arm away, I strike, going straight to hit it in the face with a partial Explosion or a Blast, only a bit of the Ether of Strugglers Gasp leaving at once. But as I do, I see the Tonguer on its shoulder rear back and throw its tongue at me, charged with a prominent current of electricity.

I change my target and go to hit the tongue out of the way, the spindly fleshy thing uncomfortable to even see, let alone get hit by, but right before I commit to it, I see a trio of bullets land onto the tongue before several more ride up its tongue to perforate it in the face.

Johnny.

I don't need to look back to know it's the Gunfighter. I don't know how, but I don't care. I'll take this golden opportunity. My entire body twists with strength as I go straight for the Dreadmarked's face, my whole body positively brimming with Ether and power. And in a fraction of a second, my Blast is released from the fist of the durable Bloody Palm onto the enlarged Motherbound's face as it tries to recover.

And for a split second, when the fist hits, everything goes white, the hallway returning to my normal vision before returning to the darkness as the entire head of the creature detonates into a mass of flesh and gore.

I get a bunch all over me, but with all this Ether running through me, I can't help myself. I move toward the Tonguer, the creature wounded by Johnny's bullets and hiding behind the Dreadmarked's slumping corpse. The Bado, turned into a monstrosity by a Manipulator or by its own greed for power, strikes at me with a tongue sparking of Darklight. I let it, confident in Rapturous.

Instead of blocking, as the tongue has no effect other than the Darklight, I follow through with another Blast, putting my arm straight through its chest and heart. I can feel my body heave in the effort, the continuous use of Ether not meant for one of my Sigil, taking a toll. The creature drops dead instantly as I notice I only have one more usage at most of Blast. Unfortunately, my control is still insufficient to stretch it out longer.

After a quick internal inspection, I turn toward the Taintwrought that was hiding at the end of the hallway, but it's gone, bullet holes in its place. I guess Johnny saw it during the brief light. Who am I kidding? Of course, he would. He's got better eyes than a hawk.

And after a few moments of me looking back and forth down the hallway for any danger and not seeing any, the darkness fades along with the muting effect as everyone looks around, confused. Most of their gazes focus on me, covered in blood, gore, and sparkles of Darklight that are rapidly disappearing.

I wave at them awkwardly.

"You're welcome?"

And I release the Ether inside my body, except for Rapturous, as I feel a rapidly burgeoning headache. Still, I don't want to risk the Darklight. I turn to the wall and breathe out the stretch of Strugglers Gasp that is remaining, the air funnel denting the wall's stone inward.

Wow. That. Is quite powerful.

I turn back to the group, with everyone drawing their guns on me. Bonfire and Skychaser also have their hands and claws full of their respective elements. I turn around to see if another Motherbound is behind me, but none are, so I return to them. They still all have their weapons and skills raised.

"Uh. Guys? Girl?"

As I peek at them all, I realize I moved so fast just then that even Dakota couldn't keep up with me at all; the fox is only a few steps toward me. Do they think I'm infected with the light? Looking down, I see small flakes of it that I shake off as the fatigue from all my skills rapidly sets in.

With an arm like lead and legs more liquid than tissue, I raise my arms and take a few steps to the wall unthreatening. I try to convince them that I'm fine.

"Guys? I'm fine. Y'know, tough and all that? I'm not infected with the light."

Skychaser and Bonfire both speak at the same time, one voice rough and the other worried.

"They all say that."

My eyes widen, and I try to explain myself. But they just don't seem to listen.

"C'mon, you know I'm fine. I just killed these two! If not for me, you guys would be in a load of shit right now."

I see Johnny squint his eyes at me in discernment. At the same time, Skychaser speaks, his beak moving in the odd fashion it always does when he communicates.

"Martyrs are the easiest corrupted and the best agents of the Mother."

Unable to conceive the birdman or Bonfire, I turn to Johnny.

"Johnny. C'mon. You know I'm fine. Would my mind really lose to some Darklight? Are we all crazy? Remember, I have an artifact permanently on me, and it's been how long? It's almost spring, y'know? Not to mention you know all my skills. I have one that expels foreign Ether."

The Gunfighter thinks momentarily before nodding and putting his gun down, stowing it in his holster. He turns and pushes Silas and Blake's weapons down, the former being a coin in a flipping position and the latter with a gun aimed at me, a ghostly gleam to its barrel.

"He's fine. Surely if he were corrupted, we'd see the Bloody Palm freaking out."

Skychaser twists to Johnny in frustration as I see Lennox behind them all wave to me. I wave back.

"What do you mean he's fine!? He's still holding the heart of a Tonguer! That has to be constantly corrupting him! Either we kill him, or he leaves! Or all our lives are at risk!"

Johnny watches the outburst and flicks his eyes at me as I drop the heart and kick it to the side sheepishly. The man tries to calm the Bado, lightly pressing down on his metallic wings.

"Calm down. If one person is to be taken by Darklight, it is not Wyatt. The kid is the definition of resilient. He's more like a Sentinel than a normal man."

Skychaser doesn't take this argument at all, trying to talk his own brand of reason into Johnny.

"You don't understand. The Darklight dives into the mind and never leaves. Once a Motherbound has time to grow the store within them, it is perilous and capable of taking anyone barring a Sentinel. Should he die later, he will rise as a Plagued, or if the Manipulator finds him while alive, he will turn quickly. You letting this man walk is condemning your own men."

I hear an odd noise from Skychaser as he steps a bit closer, his voice getting more emotional amidst the gruff.

"I've done it myself. And I'll never forgive myself. I cannot watch you do the same."

The emotion in his voice is genuine, and I see a nod from Bonfire to Johnny, the pyro confirming the claim. Johnny glances at me before leaning in and whispering into the Bado's ear.

I can't hear what he said, the voice so quiet and focused that even Listen can't pick it up, and I'm unwilling to use any more Ether than that to hear it. But I get the jist as the Bado steps back and looks at me, wide-eyed and almost catatonic.

"Y-y-you're–"

Johnny smacks him on the back of the head.

"Shut up. You believe me, now?"

Skychaser looks me up and down before agreeing, his eyes doing that weird nod thing again. He does turn and address everyone, however, about the Motherbound.

"Y-yeah. Yeah, I believe you. But from now on, you all need to be very careful. New Motherbound can be killed up close as their Darklight isn't yet penetrative enough to invade. Still, older ones, ones that have lived for over a month, can spread like wildfire, a single touch damning you to the coldest nest. The dead are fine to touch, but I don't recommend it. There is a reason why Bonfire and I were sent. Our specialties are in medium-range combat that involves zero direct contact."

Everyone nods as the tense atmosphere sinks back to normal. For a second, I feel a bit of anger at Skychaser and Bonfire for being so against me, but when I see the look in Skychaser's eyes, it goes away. He's almost… reverent of me and sincerely apologetic. While everyone else recovers from the shocking battle and I slide down the wall to rest, Skychaser approaches me.

He kneels, his wings scraping against the stone wall and creating a small shower of sparks. Heh, Spark-tribe. I think I see it. The man pulls my focus with his words from his mesmerizing wings.

"I am sorry for judging you incorrectly."

His voice lowers, decreasing in volume so that only I can hear as I see a small tunnel of Ether connect his mouth to my ear. Is that a skill for communication? I get my answer quickly.

"I did not realize who you were. A Graves holds the same qualification for mental strength as a Sentinel. Just… don't let it go to your head, okay? Despite what most might think, Sentinels are not immune either. They are just unsusceptible to any non-Fallen Motherbound. Any mind can fracture against a once-Angel."

I nod to him tiredly as I try to rest just a bit before we get moving. That whole getup of skills is positively draining. The Bado takes my nod as acknowledgment and moves back to the others investigating the dead bodies. I hear his raspy voice join the others in their discussion.

"We best be moving soon. That Taintwrought will likely only bring more Motherbound. I'm unsure how many the Manipulator has made or how many the Sentinels still alive have killed, but I'm sure there are many. There are probably at least a hundred or so Plagued to join the other Motherbound turned by the Manipulator herself."

His words get everyone moving quite quickly as they stop checking the bodies. No one wants an artifact that may be tainted by Darklight, even me. Blake walks past me and reaches an arm down to help me up.

I take it and walk beside her.

"Thanks."

She whispers back as I move together in the group.

"Don't worry about it. Sorry, I didn't defend you, though. I was actually nervous you were corrupted."

I shake my head and smile at her.

"You don't have to worry about that. I'll be fine. The Bloody Palm's had months. That light had just a few seconds."

She giggles a bit and nods.

"You're right. I was being foolish."

We share a glance, and she leans in toward me. I'm confused about what she's doing until I see her pat off a strand of bloody tissue from my shirt. Oh. I didn't know I still had some on me. I've really gotten desensitized, though. A year ago, and that would have made me vomit.

She looks at me with a small sheepish smile.

"Y-you missed a spot."

"Thanks. It's odd having flesh on you from another creature."

She nods a bit oddly as we keep walking with the group. Everyone is on high alert as I bring my attention back to the stone when we leave the hallway. And when we leave the hallway, we come against an almost sheer cliff, the ground disappearing to a deep hole that goes downward, the walls lined with nests and broken walkways.

Bonfire points downward.

"Yeah, uh. We came from down there, and we could hide inside one of the nests for a night from the Motherbound to recover Ether."

I look at him, confused, not seeing any way toward the nests.

"How did you guys get to it?"

He points to Skychaser.

"Bado can fly, y'know? Not that fast or that high for most, but they can. With the right Sigils, however, they can be quite fast. Skychaser is one of 'em. He focuses on flight and lightning together, the knowledge of his tribe making a perfect combination for the two."

I swear I see the birdman preen at Bonfire's praise, but he doesn't comment on it as Bonfire leans over the edge.

"There was a lot of shit on our way out. Lemme check."

He creates a small bundle of flames before dropping them down the hole, the fire illuminating the pit the whole way down. And from the dark, outside the distance that my chain vision reaches without Insight, dozens, if not hundreds, of beady eyes appear.

The pyro speaks one word that's more emotion than a word.

"Ope…"