Knights Apocalyptica

“Reputation is the cornerstone of power. Through reputation alone you can intimidate and win; once it slips, however, you are vulnerable and will be attacked on all sides. Make your reputation unassailable. Always be alert to potential attacks and thwart them before they happen. Meanwhile, learn to destroy your enemies by opening holes in their own reputations. Then stand aside and let public opinion hang them.”

- Robert Greene, The 48 Laws of Power (1998, 2nd Era)

Erec awoke to a fuzzy white LED lighting up a small room that stunk of grease and disease. As he moved his head slowly, he saw the shoved aside wire racks and heard groans of pain accompanied by a soft chanting. Above him was a grungy cement ceiling, but certainly not a sewer tunnel.

His body was worn; his right fist hurt fiercely, but it was nothing compared to his left shoulder, which seethed with pain.

The sting on his brow and back were nothing compared to those two.

[Full recovery predicted in two weeks. Lucky you, buckeroo! I’ve been working overtime to restore tendon damage. The anomalous energy injected into you has helped the process continue along, yet I believe it would have resulted in a longer recovery time without my intervention. Be sure to thank me.]

Ah. That buzzing. VAL was lively, considering he’d been shot.

I was shot.

Erec panicked as he realized he had taken a bullet from a gun that tore chunks of stone from a giant made of rock. That wasn’t good—he glanced at his wrapped shoulder—a miracle to have a full recovery at all.

[That will occur intermittently over the next several days; I’m ensuring that the nerve endings are suitably active. In haste for healing, your allies manipulated enough anomalous energy to close the wound and stop the bleeding. With little management on ensuring optimal recovery. A very haphazard way of healing. I suppose when you have to triage—]

Erec braced for pain and slowly rose to a sitting position. He was on a small bed roll on the floor of this place—and at least ten other Knights were crammed in here. A priest hung nearby, chanting over a man whose face was as pale as a corpse.

“Can I get up?” Erec asked quietly, even if he wasn’t sure his legs would carry him. He couldn’t stay here; the scent of sickness was already nauseating, and he needed fresh air.

Besides, he had questions. And then there was his Armor to recover.

[You should be sufficiently fine, it has been two days since the injury; I kept you sedated while the most vital parts of the process were engaged.]

Erec stumbled to his feet, using the one hand he could manipulate to push off the cold, dirty wall next to him. It drew some quick breaths as each movement seemed to flare the pain in his shoulder more—his left arm was bound to him in a wrap, doing its best to stabilize the injury.

The priest stopped their chanting, their dark eyes flashing over to Erec. “Lay back down.”

“I’m fine. Save your attention for the people who need it more. Don’t spend any more energy on me; I’ll recover.” Erec meant the words; looking around at the wounded states of the Knights on the ground—

There was Allister, breathing, sweat coating his forehead.

Erec stumbled over to him and looked down at the man as the priest harrumphed and returned to their prayer. Allister looked pale, though, stable.

Had this been from the giant? Or had it happened later? Erec’s memories of the fight lacked their usual red-tinged clarity. It was all mixed with the fatigue of pain, but what was firm in his memory was that man.

Seven-Snakes.

That bastard would pay. Goddess only knew what other awful deeds that man committed; Erec took a long calming breath as he stared at Alister’s scrunched face. Fighting in his dream

“Get better, alright? You’ll pull through.”

[Predicting a 75% chance of full recovery within the month. Though estimates are conservative without further analysis.]

Erec sighed. It was information he didn’t ask for, but it was a likely chance, then, that Allister would be fine. The pain flared and made him wince as he got moving it again. He’d have to get used to it until he’d healed. Perhaps he should consider how lucky he was to be walking and reunited with the Order. In the end, he hadn’t ended up costing them vital resources.

Except his. The Armor would be fine since VAL hid it away. Perhaps it’d even let the Knights find it while they’d tried to track Seven-Snakes

But the slow horror sank in, the bag he’d hauled out from the Academy with his mother’s letter.

Yeah, that was gone. Unless… What if they caught that rat bastard and stabbed a sword through his throat?

Maybe Boldwick even saved that poor girl.

Maybe.

Not that he’d find out lingering in the sickroom, besides looking at some of the injured—he wasn’t strong enough to be here and soak in their agony.

Erec shoved his way out of the door of the dilapidated hospital and found himself on a flat landing that opened to a long massive tunnel that stretched in two directions. Knights roamed around; a few gave him surprised looks as he burst free. They were undoubtedly confused to see an initiate with a wrapped arm and bloodied Academy slacks walk out alone.

Someone recognized him.

Before he managed to ask after Boldwick, three people rushed him. They yanked him away from the hustle and bustle of the temporary base's central area, stopping a short way down the walkways of one of the tunnels.

Garin patted him down carefully as if afraid he would break—his helmet already tossed to the ground three seconds after seeing Erec. “You’re back up and walking! Thank the Goddess! Life is good! I couldn’t hold myself together when I saw you there with your shoulder blasted open—I thought you’d died—I really—“

“Calm down,” Olivia said tersely, removing Garin’s gauntleted hand from Erec. “He’s still recovering; giving him a bit of space is best. I’m sure he’s overwhelmed.” She bowed her hooded head slightly, “It is fine to see you walking about, Sir Erec.”

“Didn’t die, rust bucket?” Colin asked, a short distance away with his arms crossed. “Good, I don’t think it suits you to be a corpse in a garbage old-world city.”

“Thanks,” Erec replied, wincing as he adjusted himself now that Garin wasn’t fawning over him. “It’s good to see you all.”

“You’ve missed out on a lot—we’ve established long-range contact with the Kingdom; backup will be here in four days!” Garin spewed, choking up as he spoke.

Erec let out a puff of relief. It wouldn’t be long before they’d have support before someone came to save them from this nightmare. He glanced down the long tunnel—the tracks led down some ways before a collapsed pile of rubble; Knights sat there, lights buzzing and illuminating the interior. It seemed that a section of the wall collapsed yet led somewhere else.

Could that be connected to the sewer?

“…How have you guys been holding out?” Erec asked.

“There’s been a constant barrage of attack at the entrance to the subway system; the higher-ranking Knights have been switching out. But it seems to be like a never-ending wave. Not only of those giants either—different Rift creatures are cooperating to try to break through and tear us apart, but the Silver Flames Knights have been able to hold barriers for a good part each day…” Garin began to explain everything that had happened since they’d parted ways.

He’d looked for Erec during the fight, desperate to find him, until a senior Knight yanked him away and forced him to retreat. He hadn’t even seen Erec brawl with the giant. Olivia reported his last whereabouts—but that was it. The last thing they’d been allowed to do.

Eventually, with him out of sight, they were forced to withdraw. All the begging in the world couldn’t stop the Knights in motion.

They’d thought the worst.

He wouldn’t have been the only casualty of that fight.

Garin broke down.

“I… thought I lost you.” He said, tears running a stream down his face. Olivia grabbed his hand—squeezing through their metal gauntlets. “…But then, all the sudden you showed up, with your shoulder blown to bits, I—even with how awful you looked, I had hope again. It wasn’t long after that we found out help was coming…”

Apparently, holing up in here had been an effective strategy. For as relentless as the silent monsters attacking were, they lacked imagination. They didn't discover that the subway was linked to the sewer. Instead, they crushed downward, and it would've been effective if they'd been stuck. However, the sewer system was intact enough to operate in.

The main issue was withdrawing effectively and getting away once they were back on the surface and in the open. That's why they needed the help.

They were to come and extract them.

Four days.

Erec took a long breath as the conversation slipped away from him and his two brushes with death. They didn’t fully process, and he’d no doubt have horrors lingering from the experience, but for now, there were other things to pursue. He had no weapons, not that he could’ve held his war axe, even if he knew where it was.

He dreaded the conversation he'd have with with the quartermaster, yet, he was grateful that he’d be able to have such a conversation.

Assuming they made it away from Worth alive.

Now and again, the monster banging against their barrier echoed down the long tunnels, a haunting sound, a promised violence.

Their conversation lapsed as his friends slowly realized they should return to their jobs. Erec cleared his throat and stood straighter.

“Can one of you guys do me a favor?” he asked.

“Of course.” Olivia nodded.

“Bring me to Boldwick.”

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