The Zombie Knight

Chapter Two Hundred Twenty-Five: 'Emissaries unto the Gloom...'

Aw, fuck.

'I believe you've already met my father,' said Pauline.

"...Yeah," said Hector. "I have. Did he tell you to follow me?"

'Aha... No.'

"Then why are you here?"

'Curiosity, primarily.'

He frowned. "This place is dangerous."

'No kidding.'

'Heh. I'm a big girl. But I appreciate your concern. How long have you known I was following you, by the way?'

He ignored that question. "Do you even know what's going on here?"

'Do you?'

This was getting obnoxious. "Ms. Gaolanet, please just--"

'I'm not going home, no matter what you say. You might as well get that silly notion out of your head, right now. Do you have any idea how difficult it was to keep up with a freaking airplane? I'm flesh and blood, okay? After all that trouble, I'm seeing this little adventure through with you to the end.'

Hector was getting the distinct impression that Pauline was going to be even more difficult to deal with than Hanton.

'In fact, perhaps it's better that you noticed me. I was considering revealing myself to you eventually, anyway. Once I'd observed you for a bit longer. So maybe we can think of this as just speeding things up a little.'

He stifled a sigh. "Why are you so interested in this?"

'Oh, multiple reasons, really. But let's just say that I'd like to know more about Atreya's very own Lord Darksteel. Seeing you in action is reason enough, I think.'

This time, he really did sigh.

'By the way, not to sound too conceited, but I think you could probably use my help. I mean, it's impressive that you were able to get the jump on me the way you did, but I've been listening to your conversation long enough to know that you are in dire need of good information. And gathering intel is what Sparrows are best at.'

Hector couldn't deny that her abilities might prove useful here, even just judging from what he knew Sparrows to be capable of. He doubted he even understood the full scope of what they could do.

But still.

"Your father--"

'Isn't here, right now,' said Pauline.

"But he can find you no matter where you are, can't he? Because of your psychic bond?"

'Oh, you know about that, do you? Well, not to worry. He has to actively be looking for me in order for that to work, and right now, he has no reason to think I am anywhere out of the ordinary. Not to mention, he's been quite busy lately, himself. He probably won't even have time to worry about little old me.'

"But if something were to happen to you, he'd never forgive me," said Hector.

'And if something were to happen to YOU, our country would suffer tremendously.'

Flattery now? Hector wasn't buying it. "I'm a little more durable than you are."

'I know how to keep myself safe. And maybe you, too, if you're nice to me.'

Agh. What the hell was he supposed to say here? Or do, for that matter?

Maybe... just roll with it? For now, at least?

Hmm.

"...Alright, well, how would you even go about gathering intel on this monster?"

'First, I'd go observe it.'

"...That would be insanely dangerous for you."

'Well, I wouldn't waltz up to the thing and poke it with a stick, if that's what you're thinking. I'd scout it from a safe distance.'

"How would you locate it, though?"

'Hmm? Oh, I already know where it is.'

Hector couldn't help blinking at that bit of news. "What?"

'It's emitting a powerful aura. I can sense what direction it's in from here. Sorry, I forgot that you adorable humans can't sense auras. Or at least, not very well. That must really suck. No offense.'

"What do you mean by 'aura,' exactly?" said Hector. "You're not referring to its soul, are you?"

'No,' said Pauline. 'Souls and auras are linked, but they're not the same thing. They can have profound effects on one another.'

Profound effects?

Hector wanted to ask for further explanation, but everyone was waiting on him, and he felt like this could turn into a rather long conversation if he allowed it to.

"Well, if you insist on helping, I won't try to stop you," he said. "But I want you to stay close by. If something does happen, I'll try my best to keep you out of harm's way.'

'Oh my. So gallant.'

"That's not--what I--agh..."

'Hee hee. Are you embarrassed?'

Aw, shit.

Hector turned and started walking back to the iron dome he'd made for the others. "Just don't go off on your own, please."

'That's fine. I can scout pretty far away without moving at all. Oh, and hey, should I reveal myself to your friends, too?'

Hector stopped and half-turned. He didn't need to look, since she wasn't actually visible, but he at least wanted to talk in her direction again. "Do you want to?"

'Mm, I don't know. It'll be a little awkward if you're the only one who knows I'm here, won't it?'

"There are Lorentian politicians over there, you know. My people would be fine, but they'll probably freak out if they see you."

'Yeah, but I'll be lonely if I can't talk to anyone!'

Hector just looked at her.

'Alright, fine, I'll stay hidden. I guess you'll just have to talk to me enough for everyone.'

"...How? If I respond to anything you say, they'll think I'm crazy."

'That sounds like a YOU problem.'

He couldn't tell if she was joking or not. "Just... we'll talk later, okay?"

'I'll hold you to that, Lord Darksteel.'

Hector annihilated his dome and rejoined the others. The Rainlords remained quiet, but the Lorentians had questions. Hector apologized for being secretive and told them that it was too difficult to explain.

They didn't seem to care for that response very much, but perhaps they felt like they didn't have much choice, because it didn't take long for them to stop asking him about it.

The worsening weather and growing tension in the air apparently took priority.

From there, things actually proceeded a bit more smoothly, though Hector was even more uncomfortable than usual. There were far too many variables in play right now for his liking, and knowing that Pauline was secretly listening to every word being said made him second guess almost everything that was coming out of his mouth.

But he wasn't showing it, thankfully. He was able to relegate his worries to a background thought process and thereby mitigate most of his visible hesitation.

That was important. He knew he needed to be calm. These people were relying on him.

He asked Secretary Karr if there were any other personnel in the airport right now, and he was unhappy to hear that there were.

The first order of business, then, was getting everyone together so that they could be protected. He may have been here to hunt down the so-called Beast of Lorent, but these civilians took priority.

The booms of thunder were becoming both louder and more frequent. The terminal's very large windows that overlooked the tarmac shuddered harder each time, to the point where everyone began to stay away from them in the fear that they might simply break.

It took a little while to gather everyone together, but Hector was at least relieved that, according to one another, all of the airport's personnel were accounted for. It also helped that there weren't very many of them, due largely to the fact that the airport was currently closed to the public. Apparently, the only people here were the ones who'd been needed in order to maintain essential operations for his arrival here.

Once the civilians were taken care of, though, Hector was faced with a decision.

The hunt was still on, but he couldn't very well leave these people here unprotected. And at the same time, trying to take them somewhere safer was also risky.

He took his time to think it over. He brought Garovel up to speed on the situation and asked for his opinion, and the reaper told him to rely on the Rainlords for not just their strength but also their opinions.

So he did. He found a place where he could talk to Roman and the Rainlords in private while still keeping an eye on the Lorentians, and then they held an impromptu strategy meeting.

It didn't take long for the general consensus to become clear. Rather than splitting up their forces to protect the civilians and hunt the Beast separately, they believed it would be wiser to pool all of their power to ensure the Lorentians were taken to safety, and then they would go hunting afterwards.

When pressed on the subject of the potential assassination of Secretary Karr, they only had one thing to say.

"We'll protect her while she is with us, of course, but doing anything more than that would be unreasonable." It was the Lord Salvador Delaguna who actually uttered those words, but Fidel Blackburn and Carlos Sebolt both agreed.

Roman seemed less certain, though he did nod in approval.

Hector could see why they felt that way. Getting involved in Lorentian politics without any knowledge of what was really going on--that did seem like it could spiral out of control and bite them on the ass, even if their intentions were pure.

However, they were still leaving the final decision in Hector's hands. They told him that they would go along with whatever he chose to do.

Which was rather surprising, Hector felt.

Appearances aside, he wasn't actually their leader. They didn't have to listen to him, especially when they were all speaking in private like this.

But then again, Pauline was no doubt eavesdropping on their conversation, wasn't she? In that case, he supposed it was good that they were still playing the part of his subordinates.

The thing was, though, that he hadn't yet told them about her presence. He'd been waiting for the right time, and then it slipped his mind until just now.

They were doing this unprompted.

Phew. That was a nerve-racking realization, somehow.

He had to relax. The Rainlords were just following his lead because he was the one that Lorentian government had asked for. This was his mission. That was all this was.

Or so he kept telling himself.

Zeff's words rang through his mind.

"Do you even realize how many people look up to you now?" he had said.

That was quite a while ago, yet it seemed more accurate than ever now as Hector deliberated on what their next move should be.

With the weather the way it was, leaving the airport with the non-servants seemed like a bad idea, but if the cause of the weather was supernatural, then it might not stop any time soon.

For now, at least, everyone was safe. He could hear the wind howling outside and sheets of rain buffeting the windows, but it wasn't like the building was crumbling or anything. It was just a scary storm.

Ultimately, he decided to wait a while longer to see if the weather cleared up. If it did, he planned to do as the Rainlords said and take the Lorentians to safety as a group.

Hector also took the opportunity to privately inform Roman and the Rainlords of the allied Sparrow's presence, which of course prompted more questions that he didn't have the answers for.

'Oh, so you're just gonna casually rat me out like that, huh?' came Pauline's telepathic voice. 'And after you told me not to reveal myself, too? I'm not sure I can forgive this betrayal, Lord Goffe.'

He couldn't respond to her, but judging from her tone, she was joking.

Probably.

Hector hoped his understanding of avian psychic inflections was accurate.

The group gathered in the airport's food court while they waited out the storm. None of the shops were open--or even staffed, for that matter--but there were a few places with prepackaged food on display. Hector wasn't hungry, but apparently some of the Lorentians were. Secretary Karr didn't stop her people from taking anything, but she did insist that they leave the appropriate amount of money behind for whatever they chose. She even paid for a few things herself.

Hector observed the civilians closely, wanting to gauge how well they were handling the pressure of the situation. On the whole, they seemed like they were doing alright, but he could occasionally spot their hands trembling or their shoulders shaking.

Hector admired their courage even more, somehow. They were true professionals, showing up for work at a place like this and not visibly panicking, but in the end, they were still normal human beings.

"Hey, bird lady," said Roman suddenly, addressing the empty air in front of him. He was sitting with Hector, a good distance away from everyone else. "You can hear me, right?"

A beat passed, and Hector wondered if she would respond.

'Yes, I can. What do you want?'

"Aha. Cool. I was just wondering something. You can make incredibly lifelike avatars of yourself, right?"

'Indeed. And now I'm sure you're wondering why I haven't made one in order to talk with you.'

Roman chortled. "Actually, I was wondering if you could make an avatar of yourself that doesn't look human."

'...Excuse me?' said Pauline.

"Like a dog or something," said Roman. "Could you make your avatar a talking dog?"

'...I suppose I could,' said Pauline. 'But why would I do that?'

Roman shrugged. "Because it'd be fun?"

'I'm already a talking bird. Is that not enough for you?'

"What can I say? I want to experience all of life's great wonders."

'Are you telling me that a talking dog is better than a talking bird?'

"Hmm. That depends. Would saying that piss you off?"

'Quite possibly.'

"Ah, so you Sparrows are proud of your heritage, then? That's cool. I can respect that."

'And I suppose I can appreciate your affection for talking dogs. I'm sure they would be much more interesting than talking apes.'

"Oho! On behalf of the entire human race, I take offense to that."

'No, you don't. I'm psychic. I can tell.'

Roman laughed again. "Alright, so what am I thinking right now?"

'It doesn't quite work that way.'

"Oh? Then how does it work?"

'Thoughts are generally too complicated to read. Emotions are a bit easier. And physical senses are easiest.'

"Ah, I see. So what am I feeling right now, then?"

There arrived a pause. '...Nothing in particular?' she said.

"Wow, you're right! Good job."

'You are a very strange man, Roman Fullister.'

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

He perked up at that. "How do you know my last name? Did you pull that out of my brain, too?"

'Didn't I just tell you that thoughts are too difficult to read like that?'

"Yeah, but a single word probably wouldn't be so hard, would it? That, or you could've been lying. Trying to get me to let my guard down so that you could rifle through my head and learn all of my juicy secrets."

'Heh. Unfortunately, the 'size' of the thought makes little to no difference.'

"Mmhmm. You didn't deny that last thing I said, I noticed."

She gave a silent laugh. 'Do you even have any juicy secrets that I would be interested in?'

"Sure, loads."

'Somehow, I doubt that,' said Pauline.

"Tch. That's a very rude thing to say, you know. I have hidden depths." Roman looked to Hector for some reason, then cracked a goofy smile. "Very hidden, maybe, but they're there. Right, Hector?"

"Er... yeah..."

"C'mon, man, you've gotta agree with more than enthusiasm than that. She'll think I'm full of shit, otherwise."

Hector couldn't help laughing now, too. "Are you full of shit?"

"Dude..."

'Perhaps your depths are too hidden for you own good,' said Pauline.

"Alright," said Roman, "forget I said anything. And you never answered my question, by the way. If you didn't pluck it out of my brain, then how do you know my last name?"

'I overheard it.'

Roman raised an eyebrow. "When? I'm pretty sure no one has said it during this trip."

'Yes. This isn't the first time I've seen you.'

Roman blinked. "Say what?"

'A billionaire servant living in Atreya? You may be good at fooling people with your disguises, but you'll have to do better than that in order to remain under the radar of Sparrows. In truth, I've known about you for a few years.'

And for a moment, Roman looked genuinely unsettled.

Hector could hardly blame him.

'Sorry,' said Pauline. 'I didn't mean to disturb you like that.'

"I'm not disturbed," said Roman.

'Yes, you are. I can tell.'

He frowned. "Right..."

'If it makes you feel any better, I don't know everything about you.'

"What else do you know about me?"

'You're not affiliated with the Vanguard. Your reaper's name is Voreese. You live in Walton. You are quite close with your personal secretary--who is also rather fascinating, by the way. Your relationship with her is somewhat--'

"Alright, alright. That's already more than I wanted to hear."

'Really? I didn't think it was that much,' said Pauline. 'You must be a very private person.'

"Hah. That's rich, coming from a Gaolanet," said Roman.

'Fair point.'

Roman put a smile back on as he changed the subject. "So would you mind making an avatar for us to speak with? It's kinda awkward just talking to thin air, you know."

'I could, but would it not be difficult to explain to our Lorentian friends why a new person suddenly appeared?'

"Mm, not if your avatar was a dog," said Roman.

Pauline gave a telepathic sigh.

Hector decided to offer her some help. "Or you could just make it so that only the Atreyans can see your avatar, no?"

"Agh. Hector, buddy, you're killin' me here."

'No offense, but I don't see much point in making an avatar that can only be seen by those of you who already possess knowledge of Sparrows. That would be like me asking you to do a handstand purely for my own amusement.'

Hector just shrugged. He didn't much care, either way.

Roman sure did, though. "So a talking dog it is, then!"

'Sorry, but that's not happening, either.'

"Aw, c'mon, really?"

'It's not that simple. Creating new avatars is a long and arduous process.'

"Oh yeah? How come?"

'What do you mean how come? How long would it take YOU to create an illusory avatar for yourself? Oh, that's right, you can't.'

"Hey, hey, I didn't mean that as an insult. I was actually asking why it would take so long. What makes it so difficult?"

'Well, every perceivable detail must be accounted for in order for it to be truly lifelike. It requires considerable planning and building. And if my knowledge of the subject that I am trying to replicate is in some way lacking, then it will undoubtedly show in the finished product.'

"I see, I see," said Roman. "So the problem isn't that you literally cannot create an avatar quickly. It's that you're a perfectionist."

'Excuse me?'

"I'm right, aren't I? You can make an avatar whenever you want, but it'll just look janky as hell. You're like an illustrator or painter obsessing over their craft, too embarrassed to show anyone your work until it's exactly to your liking.'

'...That's not accurate at all. It has nothing to do with a sense of artistry. It's for the purpose of making the avatar actually "pass" as lifelike, undetected.'

"Yeah, yeah, sure, but we already know that it'll be an illusion, so in this case, the lifelike part is superfluous, don't you think?"

'Ah...'

"C'mon, I dare you to make a super primitive avatar for yourself, right now. In like one minute."

'Eh...'

"We won't be bothered if it looks weird. In fact, the weirder the better, I say. Right, Hector?"

Hector had no idea why Roman was trying to bring him back into the conversation. "Er. Sure."

'I don't think so...'

"Just do it! It'll be great!" Roman started pumping his fists as if sitting at a dinner table. "Avatar, avatar, avatar, avatar...!"

'Okay, fine. One minute, you said.'

"Yeah!"

And so they started waiting.

"I'm gettin' excited," said Roman. "I wonder what it's gonna look like. Is it gonna be like a flat, 2D drawing floating in front of us? That'd be pretty neat. Oh, or do you think it'll be some kind of horrific, uncanny-valley-style mutant abomination? I'd be cool with that, too, honestly. Maybe even more so."

Hector just listened quietly, the majority of his attention being paid to the non-servants on the other side of the cafeteria. He was glad Roman was able to enjoy himself, though, even in these strange circumstances.

'...I changed my mind,' came Pauline's voice again. 'I don't want to do this, after all.'

"What?" Roman's grin only widened, however. "You finished it, didn't you?"

'N-no...'

"Yes, you did! I can tell! I'm psychic, too!"

'You most certainly are not.'

"Just show it to us. We won't be mean. If anything, it'll help endear you to us."

'Is that really true?'

"Of course it is."

'What do you think, Lord Goffe? Is Mr. Fullister telling the truth?'

Oh shit. "Uh. Look, I don't know. Maybe."

'Hmm...'

"Here. Hector will put a little barrier around us so that other people won't be able to see. Won't you, Hector?"

Hector was beginning to see a pattern with Roman. "Sure." He materialized a waist-high iron barricade.

'Fine, I'll show you. But you better not be mean.'

"We won't. We're the nicest guys you'll ever meet."

'Oh, shut up.'

And right before their eyes, a cluster of lines appeared in midair. They were all rather disjointed and rough, as if hastily scratched with a pen on paper.

Roman's first prediction had been spot on, Hector realized. It really did look like a 2D drawing, though Hector couldn't really tell what it was supposed to depict.

Roman was barely containing his laughter with a hand over his mouth. His chest and shoulders were trembling with each breath. "It's great!" he barely said.

'Mrgh...'

Hector couldn't stop himself from asking what was probably a rude question. "What is it supposed to be?"

'A dog!' she said. 'You said you wanted a talking dog, didn't you?!'

"Oh, ah--yeah, I see it now," said Hector.

Roman, however, just exploded with laughter, drawing attention from everyone else in the cafeteria. "That's great! It's so good! Thank you for showing us!"

Despite his words, those didn't actually sound like compliments, Hector felt.

And perhaps so did Pauline, because her avatar promptly vanished into nothingness again.

"Aw, come on, bring it back!" said Roman. "Let me see that again!"

'Lord Goffe, it's okay if I erase his memory, isn't it?"

"No," said Hector, though that question did pull a small laugh out of him, too.

Roman's cackling was cut short when a sudden rumbling arrived.

It didn't last long, but the entire cafeteria shifted, toppling chairs and even a few tables. And it certainly caught everyone's attention. Where before there had at least been a low murmur of discussion, now there was nothing as everyone was simply listening, waiting.

Had that been the storm, Hector wondered? Surely not. Yeah, it had enough strength to make the windows shake, but not the whole building?

Right?

He dematerialized the little barricade he'd made earlier and stood up in order to go check outside. They'd deliberately moved their party far away from all windows, so it was a bit of a trek to find some again.

When he did, however, he was not comforted to see that they were broken--not shattered, since they were presumably designed to be shatter-proof, but certainly in crumbling pieces, nonetheless. And the wind outside was howling even louder than before. It wasn't flowing inside, thankfully, but that was probably just because this area was sitting in a favorable direction. Hector could see the treeline in the distance bending deeply and losing scores of leaves by the second.

"Pauline, where are you?!" said Hector, having to speak louder over the wind.

'I'm safe in one of the hangars,' she said. 'Don't worry about me.'

He did worry, though. With winds like those, he doubted she would be able to fly away if she were put in danger.

But he had others to worry about, too, and another bout of rumbling made sure to remind him of that when it pulled a few screams and shrieks out of the Lorentians.

This time, the rumbling didn't dissipate immediately. It sustained itself for much longer, and even after it was gone, Hector began to hear even more unsettling noises coming from all directions. Cracking and groaning from the building itself--especially from above.

And seeing those winds out there, he couldn't help thinking that the roof might be coming off.

He rejoined the others and was glad to find the Rainlords already surrounding the Lorentians. Secretary Karr was trying to say something to him, but the rumbling returned again, louder and more violent than ever before.

Hector felt his feet move suddenly out from under him, and he was on the tiled floor before he even knew it. Disorientation reared up on him, compounded by all the noise and quaking, and all he could think to do was panic.

But that was only one thought process.

In another, he hadn't let go of what the Scarf was telling him.

That, too, was plenty confusing in its own way, as the roaring winds had apparently found their way inside and were running amok, tossing objects to and fro, swirling around everyone, and buffeting everything with punishing force.

But it wasn't that chaotic. True, it was perhaps the heaviest wind he'd ever sensed, but it was at least flowing in one general direction. He'd sensed much more confusing air currents sparring with Zeff. Compared to that, this wasn't so overwhelming.

So it took him a few moments to get his bearings, but he was able to figure out where everyone was--even while he himself was tumbling across the floor, crashing through tables, and toppling over counters.

He armored up and caught himself on the cafeteria's eastern wall. Then he started reaching out with his imagination to the Lorentians and armoring them up as well, ignoring the intensifying whirlwinds of chaos around them--ignoring even the fact that the ceiling and floor were both beginning to bend upwards.

The whole building was coming apart. Hector could sense it more clearly with each passing second. The wind's fury was extending throughout the entire buckling structure.

But there was worse news. The Scarf was telling him about something particularly horrible outside, something that wasn't yet fully formed but that seemed like it soon would be. A gigantic, swirling funnel descending slowly from the cloudy sky.

A tornado.

And it was far too close to the building. The airport terminal was already barely holding together. That thing was going to rip through it like a drill.

Hector didn't have much time to think. He'd never sensed a fucking tornado before with the Scarf, but this one seemed absolutely gigantic and probably unstoppable. He just did whatever he could to prepare everyone, thickening their armor and strengthening it with his soul. Through the mayhem, he could vaguely sense some of the Rainlords doing similar work. Copper from Fidel Blackburn was even occasionally mixing in with his iron, adding layers on top of layers and providing walls for everyone.

By now, the roof and ceiling were both gone, replaced only by open sky and a storm of dust and rubble. The floor was threatening to go as well, but for the moment, it was holding together.

More concerning to Hector's mind was all of this highly conductive metal in the area. The wind and debris were the primary problems, of course, but there was still lightning to worry about, too. So he set to work simultaneously, trying to create large towers outside in order to attract any stray bolts, but the winds out there were so furious that his work could hardly even finish forming before being shredded to pieces.

He did hear a crashing boom, though, and promptly sensed the explosive dispersion of an already-crumbling iron tower. So maybe it had worked, after all.

The Rainlords seemed to have the others covered pretty well now, so Hector shifted more of his focus to creating towers. His first attempts hadn't held together very well, but that was because they hadn't been solid enough. He'd instinctively made them more porous in design--like radio towers, perhaps--but in this case, thicker might've been better.

And more than anything, he needed an extremely heavy foundation, lest the winds would immediately launch them into the air, so he started with a giant block of solid iron on the airport's tarmac, as large as the plane they'd arrived in. He added multiple spires to it, and also kept expanding out the base to give it extra grip on the ground.

The spires began to buckle almost immediately, so he had to annihilate and remake them. And it didn't stop happening the second or even third times, either. He just had to keep rebuilding.

But they were catching lightning alright. Which was all that mattered, he supposed.

It became a constant effort to maintain, but that was fine. He gave it its own thought process while he reassessed the situation.

The tornado had fully touched down, but it wasn't coming toward them, thankfully. Not yet, at least. The Rainlords were ushering everyone to another location and trying to catch his attention, so he gave an acknowledging wave and started following, bringing up the rear of their procession.

Behind him, the walls were coming down and chunks of the floor were flying up into the sky. He could even feel his feet beginning to catch a bit too much air with each new step he took, so he added more weight to his armor in order to help anchor himself.

He pushed onward through the punishing wind, each step becoming a task unto itself as he tried his best to maintain full awareness of the situation. The status of the lightning rods. His own armor. The location of the tornado. The location of the Rainlords and Lorentians.

So much to keep track of. Even with multiple thought processes, he was struggling. If he let up on his concentration, it would all just become a chaotic blur.

He could sense that the non-servants were being led down a flight of stairs. Getting everyone underground did seem like a good idea, but there was considerable rubble in the way. Roman and Salvador were digging through it while the others were preventing any new debris from falling on the group.

Before Hector could catch all the way up to them, however, the Scarf warned him about something much more important.

The tornado had turned around. It was heading straight towards them now.

He stopped walking, his mind racing. The others couldn't sense it. And with all this noise and chaos, he couldn't warn them. So what could he do, then?

Could he stop a tornado?

Probably not, he felt.

But he was about to find out for certain.

He eliminated some of his armor to lighten it and let himself get swept away by the wind. This was quite possibly the stupidest idea he'd ever had, but he didn't see any faster way of getting up close to the tornado.

He tumbled through open air, leaving the terminal behind completely and doing his best to keep his bearings.

It was almost impossible. The roaring winds were louder now than he could've ever imagined, and the constant movement--being tossed around like a rag doll--would've surely been one of the most disorienting things he'd ever experienced if it hadn't been the air itself that was doing it.

The Scarf of Amordiin was saving his ass here, and he knew it.

As he flew around the vortex, he could sense the full shape of the tornado and all of the streams of air flowing to and from it like a thousand tendrils destroying everything in their path. A gargantuan monster in its own right, connecting land and sky. Magnificent. And terrible.

There was so much loose debris in the air. Clusters of leaves, splintered wood, busted concrete, glass shards, metal scraps, and clouds of dust obscuring everything--Hector knew he couldn't just ignore it all. Garovel wasn't here to regenerate any injuries. If that metal pole flying toward him gored him through the chest, that would be the end of this mission.

It broke upon Haqq's shield without even so much as denting it, but there was more all around. The shield could probably stop just about anything the tornado wanted to throw at him, but doing that required constant attention and concentration.

He wanted a more streamlined solution, like maybe a giant orb of meter-thick iron, but he knew that if he did that, then the Scarf would be cut off from the wind, which would render him blind.

No. He as thinking too defensively. He was always like that, wasn't he? Perhaps that was just his natural state of mind. But that wasn't what was needed. He couldn't bring down this tornado by just protecting himself.

He had to be aggressive.

Right about now, he was seriously regretting not devoting more of his materialization studies to aerodynamics. No time to dwell on it, though. It seemed obvious enough disrupting the cyclical flow of air would hurt the tornado. How to go about it, though?

First ideas first. A big ass wall. He materialized in midair on the side of the tornado that was opposite to himself, and he started growing in both dimensions, making it as tall and wide as he possibly could.

More debris kept threatening him, though. He had to twist his body around to bat away a splintered tree trunk before it could skewer him, then a block of crumbling concrete, and then--oh shit, a truck.

He knew instantly that he didn't have enough weight on his side to stop something that size, so Hector didn't even try. Instead, he materialized a dozen iron appendages from his armor and grabbed onto the truck, deciding it was better to hitch a ride than get clobbered.

Even that still had a jarring impact, though, and he narrowly avoided getting squished against the enormous vehicle's undercarriage. When he found his grip, he started annihilating and recreating his iron appendages in order to help him move along the outside of the truck. He spidered his way around to the topside, and once he was there, he used his iron arms and legs to counteract the vehicle's aerial spin and keep himself steady. The appendages needed to be destroyed and remade constantly in order to pull that off, but that wasn't too difficult for him.

The wall he'd made earlier had buckled in several places, and its pieces were now circling the tornado just like he was.

Shit.

He tried to think. Should he try to fight wind with wind? Maybe create a whirlwind that could counter the flow of the tornado?

A nice thought, but it seemed flatly impossible. He didn't see how he could build up the necessary momentum in all this chaos. Surely, the tornado's cyclical flow would just swallow anything he made and turn it against him.

He looked down and regretted it. He'd never considered himself particularly afraid of heights, but holy fuck, he was high up now. And this wind. Constantly howling in his ears and pressing against his armor. If he wasn't already moving in the same direction, it would've certainly thrown him off the truck by now.

Hmm. Maybe this here was the right idea, though. The truck. The way he'd latched himself onto it. Looking around again, he could see countless other objects swirling within the tornado.

What would happen if he started collecting them?

Worth a shot, he figured. He started using his iron to catch anything that flew close to the truck. Farther objects were more of a problem, though. He couldn't just propel an iron fishing line out and reel back in, unfortunately. Even if it were possible for him to "shrink" his iron back toward him like that, he doubted that these furious winds would allow him to pull that off.

But the iron wall that he'd made earlier was still flying around the tornado--in big pieces, maybe, but it was there. He decided to use those pieces to accumulate more things, catching more objects with thick iron nets and tentacles.

There was so much stuff. It took all his concentration, all thought processes. Those lightning rods from earlier? Ignored. The non-servants should've been underground by now, anyway.

But wait, wouldn't that mean that all this iron in the tornado would attract the lightning, instead? And none of it was touching the ground, either, so where would the electricity go?

Shit. He couldn't worry about that, yet. He had to focus on finishing his work here. He could sense the tornado bending and squirming, losing some of its shape--and the truck, it felt like it was slowing, if only a little.

Was this actually working? Or was the tornado just fading naturally?

He couldn't really tell one way or the other, but he didn't intend to stop. He'd amassed several giant clusters of debris already, and there was almost nothing else left. Just a few things here and there, too far away from everything else to catch. But not too far from each other. He attached them together with iron shackles and created one last little cluster.

Things were definitely slowing now, but the situation was still dangerous--perhaps even more than before, Hector suddenly realized. Sure, the tornado was no longer drilling through the airport like it was paper, but now there half a dozen house-sized wrecking balls of debris flying all around him.

For a few moments, Hector was tumbling through open air again, loose iron appendages dangling freely as he struggled to maintain his bearings. Where was he in relation to the wrecking balls? It was hard to--

There. Above him. About to pass him by.

He hooked onto the nearest one at the last second, and it yanked him forward with enough force to knock the breath out of his lungs and leave him feeling light-headed. He teetered on the brink of passing out before regaining himself with only seconds to register the fact that the wrecking ball he was attached to was about to collide with the tower, too.

No time. He pushed for more iron. More weight to the tower. And some quick links--spindly attempts to bridge the gap between the tower and the ball. To soften the blow, maybe.

He let go just before impact again, but this time, he couldn't even tell what happened to the tower, because he went sailing straight onward and completely overshot everything.

The wind wasn't circling anymore, he realized. The tornado had fully dissipated, and now he was just in freefall with the remaining wrecking balls. One was close to him, but the others were far away, flying off into the forest or toward the tarmac.

He had to concentrate on landing safely. That was the priority. The mission depended on it.

Flight. He could fly, couldn't he? That would soften any landing, but for the life of him, he couldn't summon to mind how he'd managed to pull that off before.

Simplify.

That was what was in his head--or at least, that was what one of the thought processes was telling him. What were the others saying? Nothing? He couldn't tell.

Didn't matter.

Velocity states were simple enough. An iron plate between him and the ground. Pushing him upward with enough force to ease his descent. But not by enough. So he added another. And another.

Layers.

Then a few more to slow his horizontal speed as well.

Hector could barely hold onto a single thought between choked breaths. Where was he? How fast was he going? Where was the ground? What was the Scarf telling him? Hopefully, this would be--

He hit pavement, thick armor scratching and kicking up visible sparks as he toppled over himself. The iron layers he'd made all went clattering in various directions and as he finally skid to a halt, face down.

Agh.

That hadn't felt good. He wanted to groan in pain, but he was still struggling to catch his breath, too, so he ended up just coughing into his faceguard for a while longer.

Gradually, he tried to take stock of his body parts. He could still move everything, at least. He felt pain all over, but it was dull and not that bad. He'd certainly had worse.

He groaned as he tried to crawl back up onto his feet. Plate armor didn't make that task any easier, and it was battered and dented in several places, locking some of his limbs at awkward angles. He ended up just annihilating it.

He was prepared to remake his armor immediately, but he noticed that the winds had died down significantly. Not only had the tornado disappeared, but the rest of the storm had settled as well.

Where the hell was everyone?

That wrecked building over there could only have been the airport terminal, though it was almost unrecognizable now. He started toward it as he tried to reassess things.

He could see the tarmac from here. One of the balls of debris was there, but he didn't see any airplanes anymore. Had the tornado swept them away, too?

Oh.

Yep.

He saw half of an aircraft buried in the nearby treeline. He was fairly certain that was the same plane that had brought them here to Lorent. It was missing its tail and also a wing.

Hector wasn't sure if he felt worse for Roman or for the company he'd chartered the plane from. He considered informing Garovel that their ride back to Atreya had just been chewed up and spit out by an angry sky, but he wasn't sure what that would accomplish other than making the reaper worry. He planned to tell him eventually, just not yet. The priority was locating everyone. He jogged back toward the airport as he reached out with the Scarf, trying to sense human figures among all the rubble.

Instead, he sensed an enormous bird approaching, and he slowed down just before feeling the gust of wind from her landing.

Before even saying anything, however, she revealed herself to his eyes. She wasn't quite as tall or bulky as Hanton had been, but her plumage was similarly red-and-brown, though she had a bit of gold around her eyes and along the tips of her wings and tail.

"What are you doing?" he asked. "Someone might see you."

She didn't answer him. She only stared at him.

"Pauline? Are you okay?"

'Yes. I'm fine.'

He took a breath. "Good. We need to find the others."

'That we do.'

He couldn't help squinting at her. Something in the tone of her psychic voice was bothering him. "Are you sure you're okay?"

'Lord Goffe... you're the only human I can sense here now.'

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