by Kell Inkston
“Break?” Nias questions as the gate begins to form.
“An overlord ran her through with his lance— right through the heart. She just shot him in the face and got up like it was nothing. I went up and looked to see what happened, and there was no wound. I should’ve asked her the specifics, especially considering we might… we might be facing that, after all.”
Nias’ usually cool demeanor degenerates into the young boy who was once told scary stories at night— about the great witches and killers of their world. “…What….”
“That’s why we’re composed like this,” Redemption says with a curt nod. “Honestly I can’t think of a single time Order and I worked together, let alone you, Glory. We could handle Chaos the three of us, I’m sure, but with Meeo in the mix, it’s going to be… challenging.”
“Yeah, but not quite as bad anymore, I bet,” Glory says, reaching into his helmet to scratch his bright red hair. “Now that we have the A.D. coordinates of this tower, we can probably parse out the whole network. In an hour this place is gonna be overrun with knights.”
The portal finally opens up, a small, dark passage— a crude far cry from Chaos’ mockingly-easy, perfectly-comfortable portals.
“There it is,” Nias announces.
“Alright. Be ready for a fight, but we’re going for diplomacy first,” Redemption reminds.
“Got it,” Glory confirms, getting up from his spot on the counter and sauntering over to the gateway with Redemption taking the front. “Let’s do it.”
Redemption waits a second with Nias and Glory ready at the back, then looks over to the fireplace. “Ranalie.”
Order, busy looking over a dragon’s tooth from the old wars, turns around with a cool, calm certainty. “Yeah?” Redemption motions his head to the portal, and she nods. “Right,” she says, “sorry.”
“Stay sharp,” Redemption warns, “I have a feeling this won’t be a short affair.”
Order nods as she takes up the second part of the line. “Don’t worry about me.”
Redemption sighs. “That will be hard not to do... Are you really okay?”
Her visor protects her expression from being seen. “…Of course not, but we have to move or the trail will go cold,” she persists with an immaculately-even tone. Redemption considers it a feat that she’s this calm, especially in the face of the betrayal of her only real friend for a few thousand years. He could only imagine how it’d feel if Glory stabbed him in the back, though then again it probably wouldn’t feel nearly as bad, considering how far they’ve strayed apart through the years.
Redemption pauses a moment, and then comes to a slow nod. “Alright then. Let’s go.” Redemption closes his visor along with Glory, and the group traverses the stellar spaces.
It’s tight, disquieting, and very, very silent. Realmic gate coalescence is quite a famous magic for how little is known about it, most of its popularity stemming from all the stories of wizards breaking concentration mid-travel, and stranding the tunnel’s occupants out into deep, horrible nowheres.
In only a moment, the stars give way to a bright light along with bleach-white polycarbonate surfaces. In the next blink, the four are piled out into a spot in The Central Library’s grand plaza. The thick silence passes aside to let in the chorus of screaming soldiers, explosions, and klaxon horns.
“Looks like we were just a little late,” Redemption observes with a slant frown as the group at once focuses in upon a giant tower in the distance, falling into a heap.
“So… I guess he went that way,” Nias notes in bewilderment as the group looks upon the enormous void of wrecked buildings and ruined infrastructure down the path.
“Wow,” Glory says in mock admiration, “yeah, gee; that Keruz Academy education is really paying off I see.”
Nias jolts awkwardly when a retinue of O.E.L. operators storm past them with automatic firearms and tech of the likes that no other creature in The Omniverse has seen before. “Uh, sorry, sir.”
“Gentlemen,” Redemption addresses, “keep calm and let’s make a good impression.”
“I can’t believe it… he’s probably still here, too.” Glory says, notching his head over to the fallen tower roughly a kilometer away, now surrounded by several-dozen dropships.
Redemption shakes his head. “Well that’s too bad.”
Order sighs. “No, we should engage, sir.”
“And risk us being blamed for this mess?”
“Ywn’s going to blame us anyway. You know he doesn’t view Chaos as a person.”
Glory scoffs. “Right, more like a force of nature.”
Redemption shakes his head again just as they’re finally spotted by a small fireteam. “The risk is too great. We don’t know what Chaos is working with, nor do we know what the O.E.L. have under their belts. We need to wait and see.”
“Hey, Daniel,” Glory interjects, using Redemption’s actual name. “That’s bullshit, man. We need to nip this in the bud or we’re fucked.”
Redemption turns around to face Glory. “No, we don’t. We need to take this with caution.”
“Because you’re scared of fighting him?” Glory asks with a smirk.
“Because we only have one Kingdamn shot, Clarn. If we screw up we’re all dead.” He pushes into Glory’s space, making the height difference apparent as he looms over his friend. “We’re cut off from all support, about to pick a fight with The Omniverse’s public enemy #1, and he’s out for blood.” Redemption’s posture is strong and straight as always, but his tone is grim, immense. “So yeah, Clarn, I’m scared. If we die, if we fail, this is over. The knights are over, the Western Kingdoms are over. If we don’t return, and Chaos does, there will be nothing stopping him.”
Glory hisses as he meets Redemption visor-to-visor. “I don’t think you’re taking into account how many countries, knights, and overlords he’s going to have to topple befor-”
“And I don’t think you understand the gravity of picking a fight with something that can’t be killed! We call Chaos an overlord because there’s not a word for what he is, you fool. What ‘overlord’ pulls a god from the sky and paints his worshipers with his blood? What ‘overlord’ holds dominion over the fabric of reality itself? What ‘overlord’ breaks the neck of the divine dragon and crushes their fire temples with his bare hands?! What ‘overlord’ crosses swords with our king, which may I remind you almost died wh-”
“Hey,” Order says simply, silencing the debate. “We got company,” she notes as the fireteam holds them up at gunpoint.
“Outlander scum,” addresses the front-most operator, obviously the team leader by the black-white band-paint around his suit’s left bicep. “Hold your peace or die.”
Glory turns from Redemption as he glides his hand along his bow. “You better watch who the hell you’re talking to-”
“And you better get on your Rondi-blessed knees and beg for mercy before my men fill you with-”
Again, Order solves the problem. All she needs to do is draw Monument out at the hip, just a few centimeters; the radiant, gold-light blade curls overflowingly from its dimensional sheath, thirsting for the blood of the wicked. As the massive length of the blade cannot be seen while within its sheath, the team had all assumed them “regular” royal knights.
After a second of horrified silence, the fireteam leader lowers his rifle, leading the others to follow suit.
“Rondi preserve— I’m… I am so, sorry, ma’am. I didn’t… I didn’t recognize you.”
Glory grins crassly under his helmet. “Looks like your sword’s famous even here, Chaos Slayer.”
“Think nothing of it, librarian; we’re here to hunt Chaos and his party,” Order states with a blunt lack of emotion.
The team leader sighs in relief. “Then… then you’re on our side. Thank her heart. I’ll patch you up top, one moment.” At that, the team leader turns and accesses his comms.
Waiting only half a minute, Glory shakes his head in dissatisfaction amidst th
e ashen wind, stained orange-red with the fires surrounding Chaos’ path of travel. “This is taking too long. We need to move.”
Redemption groans. “Like I just said. If we don’t make the right decision the first time, we’ll start to die, and as far as I’m concerned each and every one of us is vital to the mission.”
Glory scoffs. “You really are terrified. Man, if we wait too long Chaos’ll get the jump, then we’ll really be screwed. We should get him now while he’s distracted.”
Order looks down the line of devastation with a sigh— most of the road has been reduced to curling, molten debris. “As much as I hate to say it, Clarn… I think Daniel’s right, actually. This location is denser than I expected, and we have no idea what’s going on yet.”
“So…” Glory shakes his head. “Whatever. It’s your continent.”
Redemption inhales as if to rebut Clarn, but he can’t find the words. Glory doesn’t have much investment in the knights anymore after a few “slip ups” with following the chivalric code. “It’s our continent, and so long as we all work carefully, we’ll return to it unharmed,” Redemption says.
“Sure,” Glory says without interest as the O.E.L. team leader looks over to them.
“Hey, he wants to speak with you,” he says.
“Who?” Redemption asks with a slant frown.
“Prime Curator Ywn, sir.”
There’s a bated silence, awe-struck and dreadful all at once. “Take us to him,” Redemption requests.
The team leader promptly spins his men into a wedge formation as they rush through the streets at low-point carry.
“This sort of thing normal for you guys?” Glory asks with a smirk as they round a blackened corner.
“The Central Library has never been successfully invaded, knight, sir,” the team leader says, scoping down a street with his rifle before giving the clear to move forward. “This is unprecedented.”
“What’s the situation?” Redemption, ever in the moment, asks.
The team leader sighs as he exchanges a glance with one of his other fully-suited operators. “Bad. Chaos and a small team of uncatalogued individuals… blasted through the West Echelon Gatestreet. Casualties are in the thousands. I’m hearing that they’re moving to the staging array. I don’t… I don’t know what to think, knight, sir.”
“What’s this staging array?” Redemption asks, looking over the street holograms with a mix of marvel and distrust.
“It’s the vast majority of our gate-travel devices.”
“And you all just construct these?” Nias asks, wide-eyed.
The team leader hums. “Don’t you do the same?”
Glory scoffs. “You’re both clueless. Nias, we’re the only dimension in The Omniverse that has custom-destination gates.”
“Oh,” the team leader says simultaneously with Nias.
“So…” Nias starts. “The O.E.L. has to make a gate for… every place they visit?”
“Affirmative,” the team leader says. “I guess that only makes sense why Ywn wants to ally with your people so badly. Space gates like yours would solve all our problems.”
Glory scoffs. “Well I got news for you, buddy. We’re not interested in sharing bed with a bunch of-” he stops, taking a swift nudge from Redemption.
“Lay. Off,” Redemption says, raising a laugh from Glory.
“Ahh, now you want to get aggressive,” Clarn says snidely.
Order sighs and Nias looks away awkwardly while the two legendary knights lift their visors to get eye-contact.
“What’s your malfunction, Clarn?”
“My malfunction is that you pulled me in for a suicide mission, you little bitch.”
“And you hate that just because it gets in the way of you and your family, which you know is a violation of the code?”
“Last time I checked it was pretty clear to you I didn’t care much for your garbage code. Maybe if you lightened up and got a wife too you’d understand.”
“You…” Redemption groans. “You’re impossible. Is this really what happened to my friend? Is this what you’ve become?”
“…I had to say goodbye to Aimera two hours ago, Daniel. She asked what I was going to do… do you think I’d lie to her?”
In a sudden change, Daniel’s eyes become clear and concerned. “Clarn….”
“She started weeping, Daniel,” Glory says with a grim breath. “And no matter what I said after that, nothing could console her. You know why?”
Redemption glances away. “…Why?”
“Because people don’t live when they ‘go on the Chaoshunt’, Daniel. The only people that survive are the people that don’t find him. And you know what?”
Redemption takes a deep breath as the group passes into the central echelon’s administrative sector, filled with slow, lumbering archival droids.
“…What?”
“When I turned for the door, Aimera asked ‘if I finally decided to die’. That’s what this is, Daniel, this is a Rayda-forgotten deathwish. I feel like I’m staring at corpses already; it’s only a matter of time. Don’t you see? We may have the best shot out of every other attempt, but that’s still insects nipping at the heel of a man. I have no idea why I even thought this would have been manageable. Did you look outside?! He’s hasn’t weakened at all! You told me he’d be at his last string!”
Redemption is quiet for a long moment as the group waits for his response. “I do see what’s outside. I’m not blind, but if Rayda were here right now do you know what he’d be doing?”
Glory’s expression bitters immediately. “Don’t you peddle that shit to me.”
“ ‘At the front of the line I was the first to meet my metal with draconic blood,’ "
“Dragon Wars Account, chapter three,” Nias says, somehow impressed a Royal Knight knows historical literature.
Redemption nods as they approach what looks more like a temple than anything else— a far cry from the mirroring, modern architecture of the common streets. “He would be doing just this, bringing the fight to our tormentor.”
Glory scoffs profusely. “ ‘And I did not chase the overlord, for I thought better of it,’ Pretty sure that one’s in-”
“Record of Reinen’s Events, chapter seventeen,” Nias says, just a light smirk on the side of his face where the others can’t see it.
Glory nods. “And that one didn’t have any dragons in it, ‘neither.”
“Either way,” Order says, gracefully chiming in, “He’s not here, so we’re making our own damn decisions.”
There’s a weirdly satisfied, yet disgusted pause, like someone had just defied a god - simultaneously admirable and heretical all at once.
“If you say so,” Redemption says amidst a muffled gasp from Nias, who can’t for the life of him believe The Chaos Slayer herself just said such a thing.
Glory nods with an impressed look. “Alright then, Ranalie. Not like Danny was calling the shots anyway.”
“What’s that supposed to mean,” Redemption, or 'Danny' asks as they finally enter the Library’s High Catalog.
“I’ll have to ask for your silence now,” the team leader says with a humble bow as his team slings up their rifles.
Glory and Redemption both look to Order, who just nods and follows along.
The halls of the Prime Curator are deep and tall, wonder-filled to the point of overflow. From the dataflow pathways underneath their feet, to the heavy hologram overlay projecting a radiant, ancient forest— it is technology progressed to a point that it is now indistinguishable from magic. Redemption has his hand on his sword the entire time and Glory’s breath is bated for spells, just in case. Order, on the other hand, is a tad too depressed to be on her guard without good reason. At this moment, there’s only two persons she’d be particularly interested in cutting into. She’s on the trail of them both, and Oa’s not one of them.
After a short walk through the gleaming halls of wood and technology, they approach a final set of doors�
�� a clean, beautiful white, heavenly in its appearance. The team leader stands aside the door with his men. “This is it,” he says, striking the position of attention for the ambassadors.
Glory looks around with a smirk. “No security guards? You trust us that much?” he asks, noting the strange lack of people in the entirety of the building.
In a flash moment of unprofessionalism, the team leader chuckles. “He doesn’t need guards, sir.”
“That so?” Glory squints an eye.
The team leader smiles under his helmet. “He is one of the only two Rondian Disciples remaining, sir.”
“Rondian Dicipl-”
The doors open, cuing the team leader to cut Glory short. “He’ll see you now.”
Glory scoffs. “Yeah, but what’s a Rondia-”
“He will see you now,” the team leader reiterates.
As the others file in, Glory just nods facetiously. “Roger that, sir.”
Stepping inside reveals a swirling atmosphere amidst a bright ziggurat built with the same pure, white material that surrounds them. There’s a miraculous coolness to the air, and Order smells a familiar scent; it is like her sword, Monument, like the bright infinities of the farthest reaches of all she knows, like the scent of energy in material— like Chaos.
At the pinnacle of the ziggurat stands a solitary silhouette, a dark hue as it's overwhelmed by the light around it. It is tall, in the slim, compact way, betraying universes of power beyond what is apparent.
Glory and Nias flinch at the scarcely Chaos-like silhouette, but this is Ywn; Order’s certain of it.
“Well well, knights,” Ywn speaks, his voice fraught with long years and immense depth, like the fusion of a star. “I’ve waited a good time for this day.” The figure turns around, a scant light from the head suggests he’s looking at them. “I suppose you’ve come here for that little boy and his playmates.”
Redemption curls his breath. “We’ve come for our overlord.”
Ywn draws his hands behind his back. “Ahh, yes. I considered intervening, but I thought the better of it… I’m usually cautious when it comes to unprecedented situations. At this moment he’s about one kilometer south west from here, threatening a gate technician to open one of our sealed gates.”
