The Zombie Knight

Hector hit the ground with a rolling thunk and then slid for a long while. He didn't have the presence of mind for much of anything. His thoughts were too clouded, too amorphous, like he was half-asleep and just on the verge of waking up.

Man, he was tired. A bed sure would've been nice, right about now. Yeah. A bed. Not whatever this was beneath him.

Whatever this was? Mm. Didn't feel like dirt. Not rock, either.

No, it felt metallic, actually. Hard and flat and instantly familiar. Extremely familiar, in fact.

Ugh.

He tried to find his hands and feet, and while he was reasonably sure that they were there, everything felt off. He reached out with the Scarf for some semblance of awareness, balance, or anything, really--but no. It told him nothing.

Which was beyond strange.

He couldn't breathe, either. His lungs were not pleased with him. Panicking within his chest, they were struggling to make the rest of his body do the same. If he wasn't undead, he surely would've been freaking out already. It didn't take long for those same lungs to settle down, though.

As he suffocated to death, that was.

At length, his palms found the ground and pressed flatly thereupon as he prepared to push himself up. Yeah. That was definitely metal under him. Moreover, it wasn’t just any metal.

It was iron. Somehow, he could just tell. The feel of it. The presence of it. As if it belonged to him. But he didn’t remember materializing it.

He sat up into a cross-legged position and looked around. He was not prepared for what he saw.

A vast, barren landscape lay before him in all directions, flat and shiny as far as the eye could see, beneath a pitch black sky, save for one blazingly bright source. So bright, in fact, that it had to be the sun. But how could the sun be up while the rest of the sky was so dark? What’s more, the sun even appeared to be in the middle of setting, as well. How could it still be that bright when half or more of it was already below the horizon? He had to turn his back to it before his eyes could fully cease squinting.

Hector could see his skin cooking under its brutal rays, too. Good thing he was already dead and hadn't noticed that pain while he was suffocating. That was really going to sting later, though, no doubt.

He tried to focus, though it was difficult. What in the hell was going on, right now?

At length, Vanderberk seemed to be growing impatient. "Well? This silent treatment isn't my favorite thing in the world. Are you passing my message along or what?"

But even that, Raul did not wish to concede. In the quite likely event that this was all some kind of twisted bullshittery on Vanderberk's part, Raul didn't want to admit to anything. So instead, he decided to take a bit of initiative and ask, "Why do you want to negotiate? That's quite atypical for Abolish."

Vanderberk was sounding less jovial and more annoyed, however. "Are you asking just to stall for time, or is that an actual question on behalf of your elders?"

"Maybe a little of both?"

The man returned a flat look.

Perhaps now was not the time for cheek. Raul couldn't entirely help himself, though. Not when he was already pretty much screwed here. Might as well try and have some fun with it, he thought. "Look, dude, you're not exactly known for your sterling reputation. You really expect anyone to take you at your word when you say stuff like that?"

Vanderberk's gaze drifted over to a crowd of guardsmen who were beginning to gather, despite still looking quite confused. "So you're refusing to negotiate, then?"

"I didn't say that," said Raul. "But without some sort of logical explanation behind this sudden, uncharacteristic behavior from you, it'll be pretty difficult to negotiate in good faith, ya feel me?"

"Uncharacteristic?" said Vanderberk. "You don't know the first goddamn thing about me. All you know is what you've been told. You have no idea what's characteristic of me and what's not."

"I s'pose there's truth to that, but I've heard some pretty horrible things about you. You tryin' to tell me they're not true?"

At that, Vanderberk paused and looked over Raul's invisible form again, perhaps searching for his eyes. "Well. Who can say what's true, really? I mean, what even is truth, when you get down to it?"

Yeah, this guy was definitely full of shit.

Thankfully, Arumoro's silent instruction finally arrived. 'Ask him his terms.'

'There's no way we can trust anything this dude promises us.'

'We know. Just ask him. And try to be careful with your wording. You're speaking as the voice of all Rainlords, right now.'

Arumoro sure knew how to pile on the pressure. 'Okay...'

'If you're uncertain of anything, ask me first.'

'Right.' Somehow, Raul felt like he'd just been given the worst promotion in the world.

"That doesn't make much sense to me," Raul tried. "Guy like you? Don't you have more important things to do than worrying over a bunch of prisoners?"

Vanderberk's gaze turned away for a moment, looking all the way behind him at the cell block's exit before coming back to Raul. "Must be a real tough situation for you all, huh? Believe it or not, I actually sympathize. Getting betrayed by the Vanguard like that? Hehe. First time? That's always the roughest, isn't it?"

Raul didn't know what he was listening to, but it wasn't quite as horrible as he'd been expecting. Yet. And that was somehow more worrying, in its own way.

"You wouldn't happen to be an authority figure among your kin, would you?"

Raul made no response.

Vanderberk gave a nod as if the silence was answer enough. "I suppose if you were, you'd be putting up more of a fight already." He snapped his fingers again. "Maybe this is for the best. Do you think you could pass along a message for me?"

Oh god. Still, Raul was unsure and chose to say nothing.

"I'll take that as a yes. Tell whoever's in charge that I'd like to negotiate. That I'm open to a ceasefire. And maybe even the release of your prisoners, if you play your cards right. No fighting necessary. You go ahead and tell them that."

Raul couldn't believe what he was hearing. This guy, Vanderberk of Abolish, was infamously known for his cruelty, malice, and just generally for being the biggest asshole on the face of Eleg. Arguably, even Morgunov himself was not as widely reviled as this man right here.

And yet, he wanted to talk about a ceasefire? When he already seemed to have so much of an advantage with all these prisoners at his disposal?

It made no sense.

But then, it was also not Raul's role to dwell on or decide these things.

'Um, Arumoro?'

'Yes?'

'I'm speaking with Vanderberk, right now, and he's saying that he wants to negotiate for a peaceful resolution.'

'I'm sorry, what?'

He had to reiterate. Even after the second time, the reaper still didn't seem like he quite understood, and Raul didn't blame him.

'...Okay, just, uh, give me a minute,' said Arumoro. 'I have to bring this to the others.'

'Take your time,' said Raul, sighing quietly through his nose.

"Well, at least you're in good spirits about it," said Raul.

"What, you think I'd be some kind of sourpuss? Some kind of Negative Nancy? Never. Now why don't you go ahead and identify yourself for me, hmm? Undo your Invisibility and lemme get a good look at ya. Pretty please?"

Huh. So this guy couldn't actually see through the Invisibility? How had he been able to catch him, then? "I would, but you see, I'm terribly shy. And ugly, besides. I'd hate to scar you with the shocking ghastliness of my visage."

Vanderberk chuckled. "What if I promise not to make fun of you, no matter how hideous you are?"

"Ah. A kind offer, but I don't think so."

"Hehe. Unfortunately, I'm afraid I really must insist."

"And I'm afraid I must insist right back. Counter-insist, if you will."

"You're pretty funny for a Rainlord."

At that remark, Raul had no words. His mind froze up. So the bastard already knew.

"I didn't think you people had a sense of humor. Every time I've encountered one of you in the past, you always came across as such wet blankets. Which maybe was appropriate, given your namesake, eh?"

Still, Raul didn't know what to say. Did Vanderberk really know who they were? Or was he just guessing? Either way, Raul didn't want to confirm or deny anything.

"Why so quiet all of a sudden, friend? You were so chatty a moment ago. Could it be that you didn't realize how much I knew about you? Hope I didn't say anything too off-putting."

He had to respond, Raul knew. "...You sure sound confident about your information."

"I do, don't I? But then, I'm a confident guy. One of my better qualities, I'd say. Which is saying a lot, because I have many good ones."

Damn. Raul wanted to at least learn something useful from this situation, but Vanderberk wasn't giving much away. "What makes you think I'm a Rainlord?"

"Multiple things, not the least of which is the fact that my boys have been duking it out with you guys for weeks, now. You didn't think your skirmishes with Croll would go unreported, did you? You woulda needed to kill him during your first encounter for that to be the case. Oh, and there's also the small detail of a whole buncha Rainlords being held here as prisoners. Doesn't take a genius like me to connect those particular dots, though it does help."

So he already knew about the prisoners, too.

Fuck.

He scaled another wall up to row five, then six, had to pause in between some more befuddled guards, then kept pressing. Seven, eight.

And then he found himself stuck. Completely.

No matter how hard he flexed his muscles or tried to move, he couldn't. He just trembled ever so slightly in place.

"Tsk, tsk, so close." It was Vanderberk's voice, only a meter or so away by the sound of it. Raul couldn't even turn his head to be sure. Not that it would've mattered much, because a few moments later, Vanderberk melted into view right in front of him. "Neat little trick back there. Quite the annoying power you've got. Mind telling me your name?"

Even if he could have, Raul had no intention of answering that.

And at this point, he knew he should inform Arumoro that he'd been caught. Operationally speaking, it was the standard procedure.

But if he did that, he knew that his kin would come storming in here like a whirlwind, and utter chaos would ensure. He didn't know if they could take down Vanderberk. A part of him thought, yeah, maybe they could.

However, he wasn't worth taking that risk. He wasn't worth much of anything, really. Just a nameless fool who could barely ever do anything right.

Vanderberk blinked and snapped his fingers. "Ah, right, sorry. Here."

And Raul felt the pressure surrounding his jaw slacken. The rest of his body was still stuck fast, though.

He elected not to make use of his newfound freedom.

"Mm, the silent treatment, eh? That won't do. I like to play with my food, you know. I'm a bit famous for it, in fact. So come on. Play with me, and maybe you'll get to live a little longer. Not a bad trade, right?"

Well. Raul did like to talk. "Shouldn't you be over in Ridgemark or Czacoa, right now?"

The man smiled. "Oh? What makes you say that? Been listening to some misinformed little birdies, have we? Good to know my efforts weren't wasted, then."

Hmm. Maybe a bit of goading would prove useful here. "The Jailer of Ridgemark is going to tear your forces apart without you there to help them."

"Tsk. Y'know, I was kinda hoping he would be HERE, actually. Would only make sense, right? The Jailer? In a jail? Guess that would've been TOO fitting, huh? Hehe. Unless you're just trying to trick me, and he actually IS here. That'd be a real treat."

Raul didn't stop to take stock of the damage. Instead, he scrambled faster and then did something drastic in order to conceal his mistake.

He slapped his hand down on the floor and turned it into an almost frictionless plane. Everywhere within the bottom layer of the cell block--save right beneath himself--became more slippery than an ice rink.

Immediately, guards started toppling all around him, falling over themselves and each other, creating utter chaos out of an already hectic circumstance.

It definitely got the job done, though. Everyone was sufficiently distracted.

He took the opportunity find an isolated corner and, again using his ability, skitter straight up the wall.

This trick was always hell on his palms. The increased friction may have provided sticking power, but it did nothing to counterbalance the weight of his entire body yanking against his skin. Plus, he had to alternate the friction on and off quickly, else he'd either get stuck in place or start to fall.

Thankfully, he'd thought to wear gloves, which made the trick slightly more difficult but also painless. An entirely worthwhile trade off.

He scurried up on to the row of reaper cells and then perched there. The view was quite good of the mayhem he'd just created. It was like a scene out of a silent comedy, dozens of men bumbling into one another, struggling to find their footing and repeatedly being unable to.

The guards who were higher up in the block quickly took notice, but they didn't seem to know what was happening or what to do about it.

Raul couldn't help feeling quite pleased with his work, but he needed to keep moving while the distraction was still working. He saw a line up to the next row and decided to go for it.

'Status, Raul,' came Arumoro's voice.

'Still fine,' he said.

The reaper probably wanted to say more but didn't.

The distraction below was working wonders now. He considered doing it again on the second and third rows as he passed them, but his instinct was telling him that it would give his position away. He couldn't tell where Vanderberk was, but he had a feeling that the man had gone invisible again.

He reached the fourth row, and it seemed like his head was finally working right. He could see an exit. It wasn't far. He could reach it. And he was actually heading toward it, this time, instead of going in the wrong direction. That was certainly an improvement.

He stopped in front of the nearest cell. He craned his neck as a guard's hand hovered past his face. Raul could see some of the others resorting to using their powers, materializing clouds of smoke and dust. Fortunately, it seemed to be making matters worse for them, not better. All the extra crap in the air was conflicting with each other and confusing things further.

For now, at least.

Frankly, considering how many of them there were, the situation already seemed quite hopeless to Raul. He had a rather strong feeling that they were going to find him sooner or later. Probably sooner.

The reaper cells were an option. The only problem was how small they were. And how much attention it might draw if a cell door opened by itself.

But maybe he could use them to trick the guards. That was why he was already setting to work, loosening the hinges of this new cell door in front of him.

He didn't pull the bolts all the way free, though. He just wanted them primed for a sudden release. First, he stepped carefully away from the door and went to work on the next one over, still needing to dodge grasping hands.

Soon enough, the second door was primed, too, and he moved onto the third.

He had no idea how many he should go for. Planning at this stage wasn't really an option for him. He was just going. When the time felt right, he'd make all the bolts fall out at once.

He heard a commotion on the other side of the block, but the dust and clouds were so thick over there that they he couldn't tell what was going on. From the sound of the yelling, it seemed like a fight might've broken out.

For a moment, he thought it might've been his kin. But no, the dust soon dissipated, he saw instead that it was just a couple of arguing guards.

More dust arrived, this time right on top of him.

Not good. It was still pretty disorienting with so many others around, but still. They might actually be able to see him now.

He went prone. Flat on his belly, he resorted to crawling. Most of the guards were looking around at eye level or even above the cells, perhaps thinking he might be perched on top of one.

This position wasn't bad but still far from ideal. Spidering his way across the stony floor didn't make it any easier to avoid bumping into these damn guards. So many moving legs. It was just matter of time until--

He bumpbed into someone.

"Hey, what was that?!"

It took Raul a bit longer of wide-eyed gawking to come to his senses. 'Vanderberk is in the prison,' he told his reaper, trying not to sound like he was shitting his pants. 'I have eyes on him, right now.'

'Get the hell out of there,' came Arumoro's response.

Raul couldn't think of a proper reply. He couldn't even will his legs to move. Hell, it was hard to even form a complete thought in his head. He just stood there with the fourth bolt in his invisible hand, listening like everyone else.

"Now that I have your attention," Vanderberk went on, "I'd like you all to spread out and search the room very carefully for me. I believe there is a little rat scurrying around here. Invisible to the naked eye, like I was just now."

Oh no.

"The first one to find this rat for me will be rewarded. Generously."

'--listening to me?!' Arumoro was saying. 'Raul! Answer me! Are you still--?!'

'I'm okay,' he managed to say. He was still holding the bolt in his hand. Thankfully, it was also made invisible while in his grip. He decided to just pocket it. 'But he knows I'm here. He's having all the guards start searching for an invisible intruder.'

'Get out!'

'Not that simple. They're everywhere.' Quite literally, there was a man standing right behind him.

'Everyone is converging on your location. Cell Block Y, right?'

'No!' said Raul. His feet were finally moving again, though he wasn't sure where they were carrying him other than away from Vanderberk. 'That'll turn into a fight, and it's still too soon!'

'Just try to stay hidden until the others get there.'

He grit his teeth. He couldn't let Arumoro ignore him. 'Tell everyone to wait! I'm fine for now! I'll let you know if and when I need help!'

'Raul, don't be--'

'Everyone is riding on this! Don't screw it up just because you're worried about me! We both know I'm not that important! And stop distracting me, too! I have to focus!'

And thankfully, the reaper said nothing more. Raul had no idea if he would actually listen to him about the backup, though.

For some godforsaken reason, he found himself heading down the nearest staircase instead of up it, where the exit was. He was going to row one.

He didn't know why. He was just moving. Barely thinking. Which probably wasn't a good thing, but it was helping him stay calm, at least. Kind of.

He could see all the guards searching around now. Spreading out. Feeling around at the empty air. Hoping to just randomly bump into him, he supposed.

Raul looked around again. This timing sure was convenient. Could the other Invisibility user be an ally?

Not likely, he decided. Even if it was, how could they have known to cause a distraction at just this moment?

He decided not to waste it, regardless. The cell right in front of him was the quickest and easiest candidate, so he went for it. There were four enormous hinges that he had to take are of. He gripped the topmost one with two fingers and concentrated. Just as he'd hoped, the bolt slid free with barely any effort, then he moved onto the second.

"This isn't funny! Reveal yourself! Whoever you are, touch me again, and I'll kill you!"

Man, that guy sure was sensitive about being touched. Raul did his best to stay on task, though. The third hinge came free.

"It was me."

The new voice made Raul hesitate, because this time, it wasn't just a voice. It was a feeling, too.

A sudden, overwhelmingly oppressive presence.

And he turned in time to see a man melt into existence out of thin air. He wore sunglasses, flip fops, shorts, and a tropical shirt with barely any sleeves to cover his toned, tanned arms.

Everyone else was staring at him, too.

"Well?" the man said, taking a step toward the guy who'd been yelling a moment ago. He poked him in the shoulder with one finger. "You said you'd kill me, didn't you? Sounds like fun. Why don't you go ahead and try?"

From this angle, Raul could only see the profile of the newcomer's face, but combined with that notorious attire, this sinking feeling in his gut, and the images he'd seen of Abolish's top threats, it was enough. Raul knew exactly who that was over there.

That was Vanderberk. One of the most powerful and dangerous servants in the entire world.

Instantly, this situation was changed. The Rainlords had of course already known that Vanderberk was in Vantalay, but he wasn't supposed to be here, at Logden. According to their most recent intel, he was supposed to be on the eastern front, pressing the assault on Czacoa. Raul had heard that information only a day ago.

All of Cell Block Y had fallen dead silent. These guardsmen seemed to know who they were looking at, too.

The guy who'd just been yelling didn't say another word, choosing instead to shrink away from Vanderberk.

Vanderberk smiled. "Heh. Smart man."

He needed to calm down and reassess. The guards were all over the place. If he didn't stay vigilant, he'd bump into one of them, too.

It just didn't make sense. Were they employing invisible guardsmen, too? For what purpose, exactly? Or had that been someone else entirely? A third party?

An impossible coincidence, surely.

Raul narrowly avoided bumping into a guard, getting so unintentionally close that he caught a whiff of the guy's cologne.

He finally stopped walking to steady his breath and get his bearings.

He was near the center. He knew that much, at least. The row of cells in front of him were just sitting there, waiting for someone to open them. Rainlord reapers could be in any or all of them. What was this row number? Two? Yeah.

Thinking. Thinking.

According to the intel they'd gathered, two of their reapers should be here. At least two, that was. Wen, Lonogren, and Jostomere had not been logged, but they must have been in here somewhere. If not in row two, then they were probably in row one, down below.

With so many attentive eyes around, though, opening even just one of these cells was going to be difficult. It would also help if he had the keys, but he could probably make do without them.

Hmm. Yeah. As he inspected the sealed doors more closely, he found what he was looking for. Weak points. Not by conventional standards, maybe. But by his? Sure.

Those massive hinges with bolts on them? He could deal with those just fine. A bit of friction manipulation would probably allow him to just slide them right out of their slots like pulling hot dogs out of their packaging. And once the hinges were gone, the door could be cracked opened from the opposite side it was meant to. The lock would likely still prevent it from opening fully, but a crack was all a reaper would need.

That would draw a lot of attention, though. He needed to create a diversion first. But he also couldn't make it too distracting, or else it would alert the whole prison.

Something like a spill might suffice. Maybe a leaky pipe. He'd have to find a good--

"Watch it, fool!"

The sudden voice in Valgan cut through the low murmur of the guards like a knife, drawing his attention back in the direction he'd just come from.

"I didn't touch you! I swear!"

"Well, someone did! Who was it?! Fess up!"

The nearby footsteps stopped, and so did Raul. With the cloak of his Invisibility ring the only thing keeping him safe here, he couldn't help feeling the anxiety well up as his heart started beating faster. He hated having to wait out in the open. At any moment, it felt like one the guards might just suddenly be able to see him.

When the footsteps returned, he started moving again. He had been trying to make his way downward, to the center of Cell Block Y. That was where the guards were the most heavily concentrated, which in turn implied that their most important prisoners were there.

It was terrifying, to be sure, but he'd prepared for this. Talking with Donald Elias before the operation had helped. The old guy had a way of saying what people needed to hear, Raul thought.

"To successfully tackle a job like this, you need to get a handle on your mindset," Donald had told him. "It's fine to be scared. In fact, that'll help you. Fear will sharpen your senses. So if you feel it, don't suppress it. Lean into it. Use it to your advantage and heighten your concentration."

Yeah. More guards meant more footsteps. He didn't have to stop. He could just go. All he had to worry about was not bumping into anyone, which was simple enough. Some of these staircases were quite narrow, though, so--

He hit something. It nearly knocked him off balance, and he had to catch himself on the wooden handrail, which trembled under his sudden weight.

He scrambled for understanding. What had he hit? He was looking all around, but he was sure there hadn't been anything there. He hadn't been careless. He'd been hyper focused on every guard around. How could--?

Another Invisibility user?

The realization made his feet move. Away from the staircase. Into an early offshoot of cells, not quite at the bottom of the block.

This wasn't right. He knew there were other Rainlords using Invisibility rings, but they'd coordinated beforehand. None of them should have been here, right now.

That had been one of the problems with the rings that they'd learned about quite early on. Not being able to see each other while wearing them. They'd made a point of working around that.

So who the hell had that been, just now? He hadn't imagined it.

Plus, there was the very real possibility that the Vanguard had simply not handed over all of their Rainlord prisoners. Raul certainly hoped that everyone would be recovered from this venture, but he and many of the others were trying to temper their expectations. It was already a miracle that they had managed to find any of their kin at all, let alone this quickly. They didn't want to get their hopes up too much.

Apart from the Lord Elroy, perhaps. Raul wasn't sure what to make of that man's state of mind during all this.

In the end, they'd decided that they would eventually free every single reaper they could find, Rainlord or not. It would be too easy to miss someone if they didn't. But before they could reach that point, they needed to be picky. Retrieving the reapers was only going to get harder and harder as time went on, until a full scale battle broke out, so they wanted to exploit the element of surprise for as long as they could.

Thus far, the first reapers to be recovered had been the ones with servants of mid-level strength. Which was helpful, of course, but the real prizes were Wen, Lonogren, and Jostomere. They were the reapers of Octavia Redwater, Rayen Merlo, and Santos Zabat, respectively. Those were the three most powerful Rainlords among those who'd been captured, and it was no coincidence they were each the head of their House.

As far as Raul knew, that had always been the way of things, historically speaking. Rainlords led by strength. It was a relatively rare occurrence for the defacto strongest member of a House to not become the leader.

That was just one more reason why Cousin Melchor was so strange.

Raul had asked the man about it, once. About why he'd repeatedly refused to step into that role.

"Everyone has their place, but not many want to acknowledge it. Too often, people are either overly ambitious or totally insecure. I am neither. I know my worth, exactly. I know what I can do for this family, and I know what I cannot. My role shall always be only to support and advise."

Even after Ismael's passing, Melchor had again rejected the call.

And many within House Blackburn had not been happy about that. For his part, Raul just tried not to worry about it too much. If the great Cousin Melchor's role was only to support and advise, then Raul's role must've surely been to just do as he was told.

There'd been some skepticism at first about whether or not these "so-called monsters" were really that much of a threat. After all, what some random guardsmen considered to be monstrous was bound to be different from what Rainlords considered to be monstrous.

But they had been displeased to learn that there were indeed some quite infamous names stationed here, right now.

Niro Blatt was the one that Raul currently had eyes on as he proceeded down the corridor. The guy's cheekbones were sharp enough to cut with, and his beady gaze barely looked human as it passed over Raul's invisible form.

Blatt was mostly known for his habit of making grotesque examples out of his victims. Winning a battle was never enough for him, apparently. He had to put the losers on morbid display via crucifixion and flaying, only occasionally after they were already dead.

Not one to show mercy, in other words.

Raul wanted very much to take this opening and neutralize Blatt here and now. An ambush from behind--right to the neck--would probably do the trick.

But it was a gamble. And not just with his own life, either. If he somehow failed to kill the guy in an instant, then everything would go to hell immediately. Or if another guard rounded the corner at just the wrong time, the same could be said.

So he just watched as the murderous bastard passed him by.

Cell Block Y was absolutely massive. Stairs led up and down in a stadium-like formation, where in place of seats there were cells. Rows upon rows of cells. All tiny, no larger than dog kennels.

But they were all sealed tight. They had to be in order to hold reapers. Any opening would allow their massless bodies to squeeze through.

And with so many cells to choose from, the trouble was finding out where everyone had been placed.

That had been the first task of the infiltration team. They'd scoured the prison for intel regarding prisoner placement.

Thankfully, the wardens of this infernal place were quite good with their recordkeeping. It would've been very easy to get lazy with such things and not bother logging any names. The reapers themselves could also be quite stubborn about that, no doubt. If they gave their captors the silent treatment, then logging would become that much more difficult. And perhaps for that very reason, not everyone was accounted for in the logs they'd found.

Or at least, they hoped that was the reason.

According to the RPMP, the VMP used this place as not just a prison but also as either a reward or punishment for the rank-and-file within their own forces. Being given a temporary post here could be considered a reward, since it meant getting away from the frontline fighting and enjoying the incredible mountain vistas, clean air, and decent food.

But it could also be considered a punishment, because certain jobs within the prison were terrible beyond words. Namely, cleaning the sewage system. Not only was it filthy, but it attracted the infamous Vantalayan dung beetles, which were as big as a man's fist and made horrible hissing noises when agitated. Not to mention, they had a tendency to bite. Hard. And such wounds were likely to become infected, of course.

Raul had firsthand knowledge of that, because he'd scouted those godforsaken tunnels already. It was only a minor point of weakness for the prison. There were still plenty of guards down there, mixed in with or even doubled up as part of the cleaning crew. Plus, it was a maze down there. Too easy to get lost. Raul knew the route himself quite well by now, but if he had to guide someone else, that would make things much more complicated.

They hadn't yet gotten around to sneaking out non-combatants, though. There had been much debate about whether it was better to go for them first or save them for last. On the one hand, going for the warriors first would allow for those same warriors to then provide assistance with the operation. But on the other hand, if a fight broke out, the non-combatants might be in more danger if they remained stuck in the prison.

At which point, the fight would become even more complicated.

But ultimately, that was what they had decided to go for. They needed the manpower. And going for the civilians first wouldn't guarantee their safety, either. In fact, a fight might be even more likely to break out.

The real trick, however, was getting to the captive reapers. Logden Prison had a special cell block for them, and the security in that area was far and away the strongest. The most notable guardsmen were stationed there.

The only upside was that gathering intel on those guards was made a bit easier, primarily because the normal guards loved to gossip about them, about the "monsters of Cell Block Y."

There was essentially zero doubt in Raul's mind that it was only a matter of time until things went pear-shaped. That was why he was trying so hard to be careful. The more warriors they could free, the better off they would be once the inevitable battle came.

That was the gist of the plan they'd come up with, anyway.

Simply put, there were far too many guards for nobody to notice so many prisoners going missing. With over four hundred Rainlords needing to be freed and only a handful of Invisibility rings at their disposal, this was an enormous undertaking.

Thankfully, the warriors were actually a bit easier to free than the civilians, because the warriors were mostly just frozen heads. The guards weren't nearly as attentive toward the cold storage rooms compared to all the cells with living people in them.

From their intial scouting of the compound, they'd discovered that an apparent pencil pusher was the primary custodian of cold storage. It was a bespectacled, rail-thin man by the name of Arino. Twice a day, first thing in the morning and the last thing at night, Arino would make a round through each of the cold rooms, check on every frozen captive, and tick the corresponding name off a very long list.

Tedious didn't even begin to describe that man's job. He seemed perfectly content with it, though. Never complaining, always formal and polite toward his coworkers.

Arino wouldn't be the problem. It was the dozens upon dozens of guards around him that would be.

Many of them were servants. In fact, Raul suspected that literally all of them were, but they had no means of confirming that. It could've just been that their reapers were elsewhere, tending to other matters.

That was the trouble with servants. They could pass for civilians easily enough. Raul had taken advantage of that fact himself before, but it sure didn't feel good to be on the other side, becoming sick with paranoia as he wondered who among all these sons of bitches was the most dangerous.

They had very little in the way of intel on the personnel within Logden Prison. He'd hoped that the Ridgemark Private Military Police would be able to help with that, but apparently, Logden was a trouble spot even for them. Activity here was constant, with guards being swapped out all the time. This place was closely linked with the Vantalayan Military Police and its many war fronts.

'This is a really stupid thing to do, Roman.'

He couldn't really argue with that. 'Do you actually want me to stop?'

'...Yes. But I get it. Just promise me you'll try and be smart about your stupidity.'

'Heh. Uh, sure.' He wished he could feel as lighthearted about the situation as he did about this conversation. Banda was still shrinking from view. A couple more minutes like this, and Roman might not be able to see him at all, anymore.

'Hurry up, slowpoke.'

Talons wrapped around his torso, and Roman jolted forward, suddenly faster. The flesh on his face distorted as the wind screamed past him, and he was forced to either squint or shut his eyes completely.

He craned his neck up to try and get a look at Pauline, but it was difficult. He could see her wings, rigid and angled, not unlike those of a fighter jet as she carried him across the sky, higher and higher until they neared the clouds.

And soon, Roman realized that she was actually gaining on Banda. They were still keeping their distance, as she'd moved them much higher up, but it didn't seem like Banda was going to get away, now.

Damn. How fast was she going? It was hard to judge, but was this even faster than an airplane? It sure felt like it, but maybe that was just the enormous wind pressure playing tricks on him.

Either way, it was nice that he didn't have to concentrate so hard. He could just wait. And think about his next move.

Which maybe wasn't such a good thing, actually.

Because he had no idea what he was going to do.

-+-+-+-+-

For the tenth time today, Raul Blackburn crouch-walked down this long, stony corridor.

He kept pausing. Not out of hesitance or fear, but because he was being mindful of his footsteps. The acoustics throughout Logden Prison made it all but impossible to sneak around without making any noise. The brown-and-black floors were all concrete, as were many of the walls. Each footstep carried far and wide, and guards were everywhere, to boot.

So the trick, he'd decided, was to only move when others were moving--to mask his footsteps in those of the guards.

It had been working well so far. Progress was slow but steady. Thanks to this Invisibility ring, the operation to break out their captive brethren from this prison had not yet escalated into a fight.

Yet, being the key word there.

Roman wasn't about to back down, though. Not because of some evil fuck like this. He didn't care how terrifying the dude was. Hector needed his help.

Banda twitched and bulged again, sudden and violent, but this time he seemed to suppress it. And when his gaze came back to Roman, it was different. Less threatening, somehow.

Less sure.

What in the hell was happening? Was he seeing this wrong, or was Banda actually scared now? And if so, why?

The questions barely even formulated in Roman's mind before being cut off.

Because Banda bolted.

In the complete opposite direction, he started flying away at rocket speed, red smoke trailing behind him.

For the life of him, Roman couldn't understand. This fucking monster was fleeing?

The sheer shock of it made Roman slow to realize and respond. Whatever the reason for it, this was still absolutely horrible. The bastard had Hector in his clutches and was now getting away.

Roman gave chase. It made no sense, but he did.

'The fuck is going on up there?' came Voreese's voice. 'Where the hell are you going?'

'Bastard's running,' said Roman, trying to stay focused on the chase. The guy was damn fast. Even pushing for max speed, Banda was still pulling away from him.

'And you're actually following?' said Voreese. 'What exactly are you thinking you can accomplish?'

'...I don't know,' Roman admitted.

There arrived a long silence.

The sound of the wind roaring in his ears consumed his mind. Mostly because he didn't want to think too much, right now. He already knew how stupid this was. Thinking about it any deeper might just make him lose his nerve, which was something he desperately needed at the moment.

'...You can't win, Roman. That guy and the reinforcements that he's probably falling back to right now are out of our league.' Her usual haughty tone was nowhere to be found. Instead, she sounded soft and somber, as if she were trying to talk him away from the edge of a cliff.

'They sure are,' was all Roman had for her.

At that, Voreese needed another moment to respond. 'And you're going anyway, because it's Hector.'

'He already did the same for me.'

She gave a silent sigh. 'Yes, he did. But you must also know that he wouldn't want you to take this kind of risk for his sake. He would tell you to pull back. In fact, he DID tell you to pull back.'

'Yeah, well, if I always did what he wanted, I'd be his slave, not his friend.'

"What're you--?!" He didn't want to hurt her, but he also had to break free. Apparently, these bird feet of hers were pretty damn strong, so he had to put some oomph into it as he thrashed out of her grasp. One of the talons slashed his left arm open in the process, but at least he was flying under his own power again.

'Listen to me!' she yelled. 'Your mind will be shredded from this plane of existence if you go back there!'

Admittedly, that did make him stop and look at her. "What are you talking about?!"

'It's their auras!' she said, only slightly more calmly. 'They're overlapping. Banda's aura is trying to fully suppress Hector's. Like digesting him. But, uh, I guess it's not going too well for him, because the guy's own aura is on the verge of imploding.'

None of that made sense to Roman. "Is that good or bad?!"

'Both, maybe?! Mostly bad, though! If you try to get close again, you'll just get caught up in it whatever is about to happen to Banda. In fact, your aura added into the mix might even trigger his to implode! Which would kill all three of you! Or worse, probably!'

"You're not sounding very certain, right now!"

'Look, I don't know exactly what's happening, but I know auras aren't supposed to behave like this! I want to help, too, but we need to stay back until it's safe to approach!'

Roman just growled and looked back toward Banda. The guy was really thrashing up a storm, now.

And vomiting. A lot. And it was glowing, too. Bright orange. Was that Hector's iron? It dribbled out of Banda's mouth, then sputtered out for a second like a choking geyser, then went back to dribbling.

Banda clutched his stomach, which bulged and shrank in turns.

It seemed like a pretty good time to attack, Roman thought, but given everything the bird had just told him, he didn't want to risk it. But what if Banda just regained controll? Was that not a much bigger risk?

Agh.

Banda looked his way, and Roman froze up. A sudden chill went all the way down his spine as he locked eyes with the guy from afar.

Even at this distance, Roman could tell. This motherfucker was no joke. Roman had known that, but now he could feel it. Too much so, in fact. It wasn't so different from those few moments when he'd caught a glimpse of Leo in a bad mood. But this was much worse. This was a pure, constant stream of pressure. Not just some little spike of irritation.

This was hatred. Genuine. And not afraid of showing itself. Wanting to show itself, even.

The fight was still quite far away, though. It was definitely happening in the sky above the thin forest ahead, but with the naked eye, all Roman could make out was some specks zipping around and explosions going off.

And again, just rushing in there headfirst didn't seem like the wisest course of action.

'Can you tell who's winning?' thought Roman.

'Not really,' said Voreese privately. 'It's a mess up there. Hmm. Looks like Hector's being chased, though. Uhh. Oh, yeah. You should probably go--'

Roman never liked it when she suddenly cut herself off like that.

'He needs help!' she yelled, touching his arm briefly to invoke his undead strength. 'Go go go!'

It was time to stop hesitating, then.

Roman blasted away from the ground, cracking it with an instant thoom. He didn't hold himself back, going full speed straight away. His body could scarcely handle it as his bones creaked, muscles ached, and blood pooled in his feet. His passive soul defense wasn't quite up to par for this level of intensity, nor would it probably be for many years.

None of that mattered to him now, though. The only thing on his mind was getting to Hector in time.

'He just got eaten!' said Voreese. 'Swallowed whole! Get him out!'

What the fuck? Roman barely had time to process it, because he was already getting close enough to see for himself what was going on.

Not that it helped a whole lot.

There was the enemy. That crazy half-dinosaur looking motherfucker. But he looked even more fucked up than Roman expected.

The guy was twisting and turning over in the air, clutching his morphing head and letting out strained, agonized groans. And as if that wasn't confusing enough, he was shifting in and out between smoke, too. Dinosaur, then man, then smoke, then two at once--or all three, even.

It took Roman a second to regather his wits. He still had some distance left, and it looked like the guy was too busy with whatever existential crisis he was going through in order to notice him.

Lucky. Roman wasn't about to complain. He raised a hand to launch an attack, but another telepathic voice arrived first. One he'd heard before.

'Stop!' said Pauline Gaolanet. And her giant avian form melted out of the air next to him as her talons wrapped around his torso. 'You're too close!' She carried him back the way he'd just come, fast as an airplane.

He'd already wasted enough time. Before the thought was even fully crystalized in his mind, Roman found himself moving for the exit.

"Mr. Fullister, what are you doing?" said Joana Cortes. "Lord Goffe told us to wait. We should trust his judgment, I think."

Roman turned to look at her. There was no doubt in her expression. No uncertainty. Just stern disapproval.

He didn't want to risk getting into an argument and so decided to fib a bit here. "I'm just going to check on things. If I'm not back in five minutes, please do as Hector said and bury the entrance."

She still looked ready to tell him off, but she merely gave him an admissive nod.

Huh.

Well, in fairness, that did seem to be the resting face of all these Rainlords. Maybe he'd read her expression wrong.

He decided to hand Garovel's iron orb off to her, as well. The reaper was no doubt in a foul mood and would've preferred to come with him, but that wasn't the sort of risk that Roman wanted to take with someone else's reaper. Didn't feel right.

He proceeded outside, making sure to slide the hulking stone doors shut behind him.

Unfortunately, he realized a bit too late that Voreese had come with him. He gave her a disapproving look but said nothing more. This wasn't the time. And besides, her senses would probably be helpful here.

Because what the hell was even going on out here?

He could hear distant explosions, like an intermittent stream of fireworks, and he could feel the very air trembling now and then, too.

Voreese pointed him in the right direction with her little ethereal wing.

Roman started moving, but he didn't want to rush in headfirst. The goal here was to be helpful, not cause Hector problems by getting in the way. So he made use of the giant iron "decoy" castle that Hector had been working on in order stay out of the sight, following the labyrinthine walls in the direction that Voreese showed him.

It took longer than expected. Hector sure made this thing elaborate. And to think it wasn't even finished. Roman could've just hopped over the walls, but he was trying to be careful.

By the time he made it to the exit, he could feel the vibrations in the air more strongly than ever.

Due to the nature of his power, Roman had become a bit more sensitive to such things. He almost didn't need Voreese to guide him, now that he was thinking about it. The sound and vibrations together gave him a relatively clear picture of where the shit was hitting the fan.

Hector found himself falling and scrambled to catch himself. The flight in his armor had faltered. Reorienting it took precious seconds that he didn't have.

Everything was off. His aim. His senses. His concentration.

His Focus.

And the raptors were closing in again. He'd only staggered for a moment, but that was more than they'd needed.

He tried to lash out, to throw anything he could their way, to buy himself time.

But the world shuddered again. Black. For what felt like even longer this time.

And then he was just tumbling downward. Plummeting. Had he taken another hit? Couldn't even tell. Two raptors were right there in his face.

He saw one of their massive jaws open up and stretch wide enough to swallow him whole. Rows of dagger-sized teeth lined its mouth, and a whirlwind was already sucking him in as Banda inhaled.

And Hector realized that it was too late. The fight was over.

He didn't accept it. He didn't give in. A million thoughts, emotions, and memories flashed through his mind, none of which he could hold onto, in part because he wanted to reject them. Right now, in this terrible instant, he wanted to reject everything.

Because he knew he'd lost.

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