NOVPUBWatching a Feather try and grab a knightbreaker out of the air in some absolutely unwise tactical misstep was probably on my top ten highlight moments in my life.
And boy had it worked. I’d taken one giant gamble that To’Naviris hadn’t been informed yet about what I could and couldn’t do from my opposition, and that he hadn’t bothered to go asking or looking for it either.
To’Orda could have warned this Feather earlier about the knightbreaker… but he hadn’t. Or he had, and the warning had smashed straight into pride and pride won.
He did appear the Feather-iest of all Feathers thus far. So when I’d loaded up my shell in clear view, aimed it at him in equally clear view, I knew I’d hit the power cell jackpot the moment he’d turned those insane unfixed violet eyes my direction and smiled.
The shot had both cut off his hand, arm, and ate through his shield in one hit. Everything I could have hoped for when it came to dealing with To’Naviris.
Also, it apparently hurt a lot too.
“THE DARK DEMON OF MANKIND HATH DESCENDED UPON ME!” That Feather was currently screaming his head off, waving a decapitated arm. “I FEEL THE FIRE OF A THOUSAND HELLS SPREAD THROUGH MY VEINS, CRAWLING UNDER MY FLESH!”
He’s still on fire, but losing his hand is what actually made him start screaming like we’d murdered his backup pipe organ.
“You don’t have flesh. You’re a machine.” I reminded the machine. Who was currently still flailing around as if the world was ending. “You can’t actually feel anything. Right?”
“There are notifications within our programming that alert us to damage.” Wrath said over the comms, flying around for another hit of napalm on his exposed back. She really didn’t need to anymore, the new hit earlier would have refreshed his burning for another thirty minutes at the least. He’d be dead long before all that.
“ALL I AM IS AN ALTAR FOR PAIN AND TORMENT!” To’Naviris wailed, “WHAT KIND OF MONSTER WOULD CAUSE THIS AMOUNT OF SUFFERING?!”
“A little dramatic don’t you think?” I called out.
“I AM THE DRAMA!” To'Naviris spat back, halting his wails just for that.
Wrath took her chance and dove down after him, blades swinging for a hit on his other hand, but To’Naviris did prove himself still well capable of fighting back. The moment she got close, all his screaming and screeching immediately stopped, as he slapped her with an occult hand. It missed, she quickly backed off and zipped away as a series of occult weapons held by occult hands tried to swipe away at her. “You think you’ve won human!?” He screamed out after the missed attacks. “You and that TRAITOR will be handled. I WILL CUT OFF YOUR ARM FIRS-”
I shot him in the other undamaged shoulder with my sidearm, seven occult bullets zipping straight through my half-cape and through his shoulder. As I’d tested with Father, even Feathers couldn’t dodge bullets. He could certainly juke my aiming if he saw it. But all he saw was my slow and steady reloading of the knightbreaker, and not the quickdraw under my cloak.
Without his personal shields, those harmless bullets now became extremely deadly. I could see that arm go limp, struggling to move around.
He stared at his unworking shoulder. Then down at me. “How many cursed weapons do you even have?” There wasn't any inflection on that, as if he was taking a time-out from acting as dramatic as possible to actually ask a serious question.
The answer to that was enough, but my actual answer was to fire another set of rounds for his legs next. This time he actually shut his mouth up and moved around to avoid any line of fire, so my shots went off aim.
I moved onto plan B, and reloaded the knightbreaker, shell clicking into place, weapon primed and ready.
When I aimed it at his figure and the reaction was immediate this time, the giant occult blob that held him suspended started moving right and left, clearly prepared to dodge. Figures he wouldn’t let himself get hit twice with this.
But that meant the knightbreaker was back to it’s usual niche of being an asset denial. So long as it was loaded and ready to fire, it would force him to be very cautious and remain on the defensive.
“Plan?” Wrath asked.
“Wait for Drakonis.” I said. “We’ll need his abilities.”
A wounded animal fights twice as hard, but a cornered one will go absolutely feral. Right now, To’Naviris still thought he could escape anytime through the unity fractal. Wrath and I needed to slowly whittle down his options, see about pinning him down somehow and nullifying his occult.
If Drakonis succeeded in his plot to get To’Orda off of us, I had a feeling his anti-occult implosion orb would absolutely hard counter To’Naviris. It would suck away that entire blob of occult the Feather was using to move and attack with, and possibly even stun him for a moment. That spell was something Lionheart the Deathless had nearly the entire army of Deathless pick up and use, so it’s very clearly tailored to hunting Feathers with.
Stripped of his army, his hands, his occult and his pipe organ, I think I might be able to get a killing blow on his soul fractal if I moved in for the kill fast enough during the implosion.
It would get me in physical range of him though. Dangerous location that. A shame the true fractal was too sharp to be used with an occult echo. I’d gotten real spoiled being able to attack from long range without counter attack.
To’Naviris moved himself with the occult, looking more like the burning centerpoint of some glowing blue giant slime with roughly the shape of a man. He still had a few dozen different occult blades and weapons flashing around near the center, but those were mostly aimed to repel Wrath.
I tried a few more occult mirrors to harass him, but either his giant glowing pseudo-hand stomped them out, or his inner wall of occult weapons pilfered from within that pipe organ would slice through the images before they got to close.
Drakonis sure was taking his sweet time trying to convince To’Orda to switch sides. Worse, because he had no armor at all, I couldn’t check to see his progress. No life signs or any easy to read metrics. And he’d long since left my soul sight range.
My thoughts came to a quick stop when I noticed the concept of a Feather lumbering into range, from the same direction Drakonis had run off to.
The Deathless himself was not among the number, which worried me.
“Drakonis?” I called out. To’Orda lumbered into view, one hand holding his golden shield, and the other holding his hammer. I could see dripping red blood falling down from his fingers. “What did you do to Drakonis?” I hissed out in answer.
The Feather gave me a thousand eyed stare as an answer. “Nnnn… he’s gone.”
Ah scrap, really thought he’d be able to get through to that giant. Superior said, feeling a mild pang of loss for him. Superior never got to know Drakonis like I had for the short stint we’d traveled around, but my memories had been enough to get a general sense of that prickly asshole.
I’d have been a lot more worried for that man if he weren’t Deathless, but as it stood, I’d need to figure out where he’d respawned or when he would.
As for now, I had a second Feather to deal with.
I twirled on myself, using the cape to keep visibility down while I drew out my sidearm and opened fire through the cloak. Occult ghosts flew off after the giant in the same moment. And both my attempts failed. His golden shield snapped into place, easily curing the occult bullets out of the air until they rammed home onto the centerpoint of his golden shield. Didn’t even leave a scratch on the metal.
At the same time, he lifted his hammer, twirled it like a baton until the head was vertical to the ground, and he slammed it down into the ground right behind him. The shockwave pulsed out, hardly affecting him other than flapping his shawl up, but it did wipe out all my occult echoes diving right for him.
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To’Orda lumbered forward, shield still pointed in my direction, but his gaze wasn’t on me. It was instead on To’Naviris. As if plotting something.
“Wrath, To’Orda’s back and he’s going to be a problem.” I called out, already using my graples to get out of there fast before the Feather could start doing some scrapshit. I’d seen him chase after me and I didn’t want a second round of that. “If you can swing behind him, I can swing ahead of him. After that, we fire at the same time. Should be able to take him down, his shields aren't back up yet.”
“That will not be needed.” Wrath said, flying further above. “We have come to an agreement.”
“Uh, what?”
That’s when I realized something had gone quiet. The sounds of battle. In effect, when I turned my gaze over to the Feather in the center of his occult blob, he was right over there, an unhinged laugh frozen on his still burning features.
Completely, and utterly, unmoving. As if trapped in ice.
What had he been doing? To’Naviris remembered there was something he’d been livid about, but memory felt fuzzy. He was fighting something. Who?
He remembered feeling an instant of betrayal, something was attacking him? Something massive that had digitally slam--
He remembered exactly what had happened. He wasn’t feeling attacked, he was feeling elated. Gloating, he was in the middle of gloating. Because To’Orda had returned and was now flanking the troublesome human. Excellent. Everything was going according to plan.
“To’Orda! I COMMAND you to grab hold of the human while I deal with our TREASONOUS sister.” He called out, turning his gaze to see where To’Wrathh had gone off to sulk.
The giant Feather gave a grunt, lowered himself down on one knee to acknowledge To’Naviris’s true dominance, and then turned onto the human.
That scoundrel of a Deathless was distracted, reloading his cursed sidearm, fumbling with the magazine like the buffoon he truly was. It fell down on the dirt and soot, forcing the human to crouch down in a poor attempt to grab hold.
To'Orda took the chance, and charged forward, hammer swinging.
Keith Winterscar froze in pure terror, then threw his weapons up in the air in a full act of surrender. “No, please! I’ll do anything, I’ll submit a customer survey report!” He called out, just as the giant’s hammer slammed into him.
To'Naviris wasn’t sure what a customer service report was, but some feeling was nudging him on the inside. Ah, that’s right! He remembered now. A customer service report was the greatest thing a human could offer him. Right, once the Deathless returned to life somewhere in the future, he’d torture the customer survey report out of him.
The hammer blow clearly knocked the human unconscious as he tumbled against the ground. From there, To’Orda lumbered over, then picked the human up, held high. “Nnnn… what are your orders, sir?”
“What are you waiting for, fool?" He scoffed. "Break his spine.”
He could hear To’Wrathh’s wails as the human was lifted far up, then crushed downwards against the Feather’s knee, breaking the human’s armor and spine in half as ordered. It was all so easy now. All he was missing was music and his army.
Where were they?
“My human!” To’Wrathh screamed out, flying after him.
To’Naviris swiped his occult hand downwards, and swatted that traitorous Feather down into the ground. For once, she didn’t dodge the blow. He doubled down, one occult hand putting her into a vice grip, ripping her free from the ground. “Hah! Break a human and THE TRAITOR finally gets caught! SPLENDID.”
Up she went, his occult hand kept her crushed inwards. Glee was going through his systems.
He’d had a few setbacks thus far, and the lack of music was truly disturbing for such an event, but the performance was finally back on track like it belonged. “Yes, yes, struggle all you wish, there is no ESCAPE for scrap like yourself! WITNESS YOUR HUMAN BROUGHT TO THE SLAUGHTER! To’Orda, BRING ME THE HUMAN.”
He floated downwards next to his minion, as his loyal Feather followed the exact command, prostrating himself as he should, extending the man’s body upwards as offerings.
To’Naviris yanked the man up with his occult, bringing the limb body next to the struggling TRAITOR of a feather.
He'd wait here for his army to arrive with his organ, he really couldn't think of doing any of this without mus--
He heard it then, his loyal minions in the distance, finally having made it past the flying rats and their unending methods of holding him off. Last he’d checked in, they were using directional sonic weapons with frequencies set to vibrate the power cell containers of his armies, shattering the glass inside their chassis. They looked like giant gun turrets, built into the ground and hidden away by foliage and concrete. He did a brief check to see how they’d handled it. They... hadn't?
Something in his vision flickered. A belated update. The army went from being held back, to already rolling over the enemy fortifications. The sonic weapons having punctures through their thin radars. Dreadful weakpoints, those birds should have engineered things better.
More importantly the real show was finally being brought back: A second pipe organ. He was far too busy in the spotlight as of right now, so his minions had taken the role and begun striking the notes for him.
He’d reward them by granting them the honor of killing the flying rats once that race has completed construction of his cathedral here. Fitting.
With the music back where it should be, he turned to his two captives.
“It seems your time in the spotlight has reached its final curtain call, Deathless.” He said to the groaning human. “And while I would love to prolong this moment, I do have a schedule to keep. Also I hate you.”
He squashed the man.
The occult crushed through the armor, squeezing blood and gore out in full detail. Life signs were instantly terminated, and he could hear the sweet lamentations of the human’s TREASONOUS junk Feather, crying out like a widow.
It complimented the background music perfectly.
To’Wrathh tried to wiggle in her prison, but To’Naviris didn’t allow it. Instead, he drew her closer to the bloody crunched up armor in his grasp. “Do you see now little sister? Do you SEE your precious little human? Hold onto that memory while you face Mother’s tender judgements. And if by some miracle you have a shell rebuilt, please feel free to return here to be crushed again. I would very much appreciate the visit, I’m rather lonely down here you see.”
“I’ll report you directly to the head of HR,” The Feather seethed, “Just you wait, I’ll see you demoted from your post!”
Odd final words. But he’d work with it. First, he’d pluck her wings, one feather at a time. And once those were all cleared off, he’d start on her fingers, hands, legs, and onwards until only her soul fractal remained intact.
“To’Naviris, my star employee,” Relinquished purred in his mind. “We're facing an aggressive timeline and need to expedite this process. First quarter reports will be approaching any moment now, and I do wish to see the end of this before I handle the paperwork.”
“Mother! Of course, the show must go on after all, I will call for a quick end to this production.” He turned his attention back to To’Wrathh. “Unfortunately for you, Mother wishes to see you post-haste. Would love to gloat, but duty calls for me. And unlike you, I am a good Feather.”
He flexed his occult power and saw her crushed just as easily. Odd. He'd expected her to slowly be crushed over five or so minutes given his crushing power against a standard Feather chassis. Was this a tra--
Something nudged his mind and he realized he could scan her broken body for answers. And indeed he got his details. She'd modified her construction, to be more human-like. Without any consideration to the majesty of Mother’s designs. No wonder the pale lady wanted To’Wrathh eliminated quickly, before anyone else found out a Feather could be built that defective.
Another reason that Feather had to die. To’Orda stayed below, watching as the crushed pieces of the treasonous Feather fell on the ground.
To’Naviris shot him a glare. “Do you not have THINGS to do?”
The giant looked at him oddly. “Nnn?”
“Scurry along and clean up your mess, worm.” He ordered. “Begin with those nasty birds. Eliminate them all. They dared rise up against MY CHILDREN, they should have known better as filthy animals. The nerve of them to hold off my pipe organ from arriving here in time.”
Mostly, he wanted this buffoon out of the stage. Mother was here and he wanted to be the only one given attention.
The Feather nodded, turned, and lumbered off to complete his great work.
To’Naviris felt it a moment later: Something approaching this soul fractal. It felt like… it felt like true divisio-- it felt like Mother’s light, falling down over him in violet light.
“Well done my child, To’Naviris.” She said, arms wide open in a motherly embrace. “As a reward for your great achievements, I am promoting you to assistant CEO, and offering you twenty three percent of my empire’s stocks in a compensated package. You will be given a full window seat office, and we will be having a press release showcasing your video footage today. It is the highest honor I am allowed to bestow upon you, my child.”
“I am so proud to serve you Mother,” To’Naviris said, unsure what Assistant-CEO meant, or stocks, but if Mother thought it was good, then it had to be.
He gave her a deep bow, and found himself unable to bend forward. Instead, his hands seemed to be held in place. Odd.
His vision flickered. Oh, that’s why - Mother was here in person, holding his only working hand, while her other hand was cupping his face with clear pride. Ah, of course. To’Naviris preened in the attention, hearing her soothing voice in his ears whispering him sweet nothings about how strong, and divine he truly was. He would inherit her empire. He was her favorite. He would rise up above all other Feathers.
He felt strong. He felt the world exalt his existence. He felt the true fractal of division itself approach his soul fractal, far closer this time.
His mind flickered once more, vision battling, failing. The concept of true division was so sharp and powerful, it cut through even mental delusions.
To’Naviris felt confusion as his perceptions warred between seeing the Pale Lady herself stand before him, holding his face in tender hands, and the reality of him flat on the floor, To’Wrathh’s leg pinning his half-working hand while the human Keith stabbed with a white blade right for his soul fractal, the concept of division so clear and pure, it felt as if it were cutting into his own thoughts at this range.
Ah. He remembered now. He’d been attacked by something earlier. Something far larger than he was, wielding the warped weapons of Abadiction. Infiltrating his systems, fooling his senses.
The only thing that crossed his brief thoughts at this realization, was that his pipe organ hadn’t been brought here at all. He'd never had a second one built. There was no glorious music to witness his end.
And then he was floating through the air, rivened in half, reality ripping apart what was left of his soul.
