"Maybe I don't know, either. It's something that pulls on me, a premonition, a gut feeling as you humans would call it. I get so few of those. I need to trust them when they appear. I promised the city a fair fight for its survival. Without this man, it stands no chance. I want to see if he can upset the balance. So, maybe I'm just curious."
"Well then, Mister Rott, curiosity is another thing completely. To satiate curiosity, almost any effort is substantiated. I'll get to work."
"Thank you, Milo."
Light attacked Hadder's eyes through their closed lids as he lay heavy on his back. He turned his head before opening them, his mind scrambling to recall his last moments, fighting to remember what had transpired. To his right, there was nothing, only an empty, cavernous room filled with color. His eyes continuing to adjust, Hadder faced up again to find a stained-glass dome ceiling sending rays of the Solay on a prismatic journey into the room beneath.
His brain continued to claw through bits and pieces, attempting to find purchase on something, anything that would propel him into remembrance. Focusing on the stained glass far above him, Hadder slowly began to make out images in the decorative ceiling. A winged angel, hand gripping a glowing knife, was being whipped in the face by an unseen force hiding in the cloudy sky above.
For some reason, the knife caught Hadder's attention, tickled something in his memory. He pulled at that strand, determined to find out where it would take him. He recalled a knife. Phantom pains began to dot Hadder's body, forcing him to clutch at invisible wounds. Questions began to form. How did he get here? Where was he? Would Lilly know how to find him? Lilly. Lilly. Knife. Royal.
Lilly stabbing him countless times in the chest, the dead eyes of a shark wearing her face. Was she here now, lurking, waiting to finish the grim job?
Hadder rolled off the cot on which he had been laid, crashing to the polished marble floor. He tried to stand quickly but immediately fell, his legs still weak, and his equilibrium off. Hadder spun on his backside, hands out defensively, eyes darting in every direction, waiting for his lover to tear out from the shadows, sharp blade leading the way, hungry for the last of his blood. He twisted on the floor like a madman for several seconds, seeing a danger at each turn, terrified of feeling cold steel inside his body again.
"You're quite safe, Marlin Hadder."
The familiar voice halted Hadder's frenetic movements like a pause button. Stuck in a crab-walk position, Hadder looked over to where the sound came from and was surprisingly comforted by what he saw there.
Albany Rott sat cross-legged in an antique throne chair, his glowing red eyes standing out even in the brightly lit, empty cathedral. Both the symbol at this throat and the jagged scar that journeyed down his face continued to pulse with power as he puffed on an ancient-looking silver dragon cigarette holder. The twin crystalline hatchets remained tucked neatly into his black belt.
Hadder twisted to face the city's creator, putting his back to the cot on which he woke. "Where am I?"
Rott exhaled a lungful of smoke, smiling as it took the shape of a skull momentarily before spreading out into nonexistence. "You're in a cathedral on the backside of Rott Manor. I thought it would be the most beautiful place for you to awaken in. But it seems like the nightmares chased you here."
"Not nightmares. Ex-girlfriend."
"Yes, I know what happened to you. Humans never cease to surprise me with the lengths they will go in the name of self-preservation. Or self-improvement."
Hadder rose to his feet, only to immediately sit down on the cot. A grimace crossed his features.
Rott smiled again, showcasing those too-white teeth. "You're completely healed, but the mind remembers your numerous wounds, your carved-up flesh. It will take time for those muscle memories to fade."
"How long have I been here?"
"This is your third Solay here."
"Damn it. So much time lost."
"You were dead, Marlin Hadder. I think we did pretty well, considering."
"We?"
"I had Dr. Flowers return you to the realm of the living."
"Why?"
"He asked me that very question. And I'll give you the same answer I provided him with - I don't know. Maybe I didn't like how your story ended. Maybe I think you can do better."
"I don't know whether to thank you or curse you. You fixed me up only to send me to battle against an unbeatable force."
"Dr. Flowers said that as well."
"And your response?"
"Maybe I have more faith in you than you do."
"Well, that warms my heart to hear." The words dripped with sarcasm. Hadder leaned forward, pressed his hands to his thighs for aid, and stood on shaky legs. Pain ripped through his body like his veins had caught fire, forcing Hadder to close his eyes tight. He silently argued with his brain, chiding it for reacting to the ghosts of trauma, urging it to forget about Lilly Sistine and her betrayal. Through sheer will, the agony subsided, retreated to become a pervasive ache. It would have to do.
Hadder opened his eyes once more. Albany Rott was now also standing, smiling as if only he knew the punchline to some secret joke. "See. Better already."
"Thanks for the second chance. Again. But I have to get back. We still have many preparations to make. And we're almost out of time."
Rott nodded, took another pull from his silver dragon. "Of course."
Hadder gingerly made his way towards the cathedral's entrance, each movement giving voice to another repaired wound. As he walked, something gnawed at Hadder. Step by step, Hadder grew increasingly annoyed, increasingly confused, and increasingly angry. By the time he reached the ornate entryway, he could keep quiet no longer.
Hadder turned to face Albany Rott once more. "I don't understand your game, Mister Rott." Rott only lifted a dark red eyebrow in response. "I appreciate you fixing me up, but we need much more if we're gonna put up a fight in this war. I know the Risers fear you. I know for a fact that The Krown fears you. You could stop this madness with a snap of your fingers, and yet you sit on the sidelines like some blood-thirsty spectator. We need you."
Rott's ember eyes studied Hadder, head cocked to the side as if he were a hunter considering whether to eat an animal it had cornered. "You know, Marlin Hadder, you're one of only a handful of people to ever have the nerve to ask something of me directly. I respect that. You'll never understand how much I respect that. But this I cannot give you. I am but the creator of this city. Have I made changes here and there? Have I dictated certain things? Sure. But ultimately, the fate of Station falls on the shoulders of its residents. My hands are tied."
Hadder's anger grew, pushing aside the few remaining strands of restraint, making way for the Rage to take over. "That's bullshit."
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me. I'm not that smart, but I can sense power. And I know that you could end this with a word. But you won't. And I don't understand why."
"It's not for you to understand, human." There was a hint of a threat in Rott's tone, perhaps a reaction to Hadder's Rage.
"Fuck you. You brought us here to build better lives for ourselves. Some of us fucked that up. But many of us succeeded, built real homes here, did our best to learn from the Before and apply it to our new lives, our second chances. And what's our reward for that? To get slaughtered by a bunch of combat Elevated psychos that just want to punish the world for their own unhappiness?"
"Perhaps you'll win."
"Bullshit. Even if we win, this city will become a mausoleum. You can't erect a new city on a foundation of bones. Station will die either way. Or maybe that's what you want."
"I don't want anything, Marlin Hadder. Only to observe."
"Not good enough. Not nearly good enough." The Rage hummed now, ignored any signs of danger from Albany Rott. "You created Station. You ripped all of us from death. You had us make homes and find new families here." Hadder's voice amplified, echoing off the cold, hard walls of the cathedral. "You have a responsibility to that wh
ich you concocted! You owe us better!"
Embers became wildfires that threatened to exit the confines of Rott's eyes. "I owe you nothing! You are all nothing! I gave you all the greatest gifts - second chances and time - and you have squandered it. You say I must protect my creation; mustn't you answer for the actions of your fellow humans. The Risers are you, and you are the Risers. I see no difference between you all. I only see the failure of humanity. You would have succeeded as a group. Now, most of you will die as a group."
"You must fight with us. If not to save us, then to save those outside Station's walls, who will feel Riser blades at their throats if the city falls."
"Strong words from one who cannot keep his own heart beating. You tire me, Marlin Hadder. Maybe Lilly Sistine also tired of your empty words, your broken promises of a safe home. Tell me, Marlin, what will you do if you meet her on the battlefield? Will you be able to plunge a dagger into that beautiful creature? You know, for the good of the city?"
Hadder's Rage had reached its threshold for talking. He held onto a tenuous leash, and had much to do if any were to survive the upcoming fighting. "I'm going to go now, Mister Rott. I'm going to prepare my friends the best I can for war. We're going to fight to the last. And if I somehow survive this unnecessary conflict and you weren't around to aid in that survival, I'm coming back here. Station doesn't need an absentee landlord."
"Good luck with that, Marlin Hadder."
Hadder spun angrily and exited the cathedral, kicking himself. If he did somehow survive the Great War, he was sure that he had just signed his death warrant with the enigmatic Albany Rott. Lost in frustrating regret, he failed to look back as he made his way through Rott Manor; the broad grin on Rott's face went unnoticed.
Hadder stayed south of the Lethe as he exited Rott Manor. Following the banks of the river, he made his way back home, a word that meant much less than it did three Solays prior. As he walked, Hadder finally looked down at himself. Rott had replaced his black t-shirt with a white one but had somehow replaced his gray pants with an almost exact replica. His high-tops were the ones his corpse arrived in and still wore much of his blood from the ordeal. Still, Hadder had to admit that he didn't look half bad for a dead man.
As Hadder approached Cranesman, he noticed a flurry of activity around the Bar. Men and women were moving with purpose, fashioning weapons from metal and wood, digging trap trenches, and practicing fighting maneuvers. They stopped to stare at Hadder as he passed, convinced they were observing the ghost of their former friend.
Hadder dramatically kicked in the doors of the Bar, sending the Solay's light into the dim building and making the mass of residents inside jump as they clutched weapons. Glen, standing amongst the Setters discussing strategy, fell back upon seeing Hadder and grabbed at his chest. Recovering quickly, he moved towards his friend, a look of bewilderment painted on his bearded face.
"Hadder? By the gods, could it be you, son? We thought we had lost you." Glen placed his hands on Hadder's shoulders, gripped up and down his arms as if to ensure that the man before him was real. Tears began to well up in the stoic man's eyes.
"You did lose me, Glen. Mister Rott brought me back. Again. For what reason, I can only guess. But those are questions for another day. We have work to do and little time to do it."
Glen collected himself, nodded solemnly. "Yes, of course. Another day. And I fear we have less time than even you think. Much has transpired since your…untimely exit." Hadder raised a questioning eyebrow, prompting Glen to continue. "The Risers have officially crossed the Skirt. There's a large group of them who made it over in the northernmost part of the city. Right now, they're stationed east of Rott Manor and just north of the Samsara, residing in a Cluster that they conquered in short order. This was two Solays ago. They haven't made any other movements, so I'm sure they're just waiting for the main assault from the east to sweep down and pinch us in a death grip."
"How did this happen so fast?"
Glen looked frightened, a strange look on the strong man. "Word is a couple of Caesars let them through before accompanying them west. We have one who escaped the slaughter. She said she saw Caesars cutting down residents two at a time with their giant blades. From the descriptions she provided, sounds like Tiberius and Dom have officially joined the Riser ranks."
"So at least two, probably more Caesars will be fighting against us."
"Yeah, our aces in the hole have officially become jokers, complete wildcards."
Hadder nodded, trying to process this new information, this unfortunate turn of events. He looked sadly at Glen, already knowing the answer to the question he was preparing to ask. "Royal?"
Glen's face sank for his old friend. "Afraid he didn't have a guardian angel like you did. Poor bastard bled out on the floor."
"And Lilly Sistine?"
"The bitch escaped into the Rising. But not before she killed two others and severely hurt a third making her departure. We're lucky someone spotted her across the lawn running out covered in blood; otherwise, we may have just chalked the whole thing up to a Riser assassination. Before we could even get to you, a Caesar had come in and removed your body. How he got there so fast is beyond me. But those that saw you get carried out swore you were a goner. Said you had more holes in you than Swiss cheese." Glen took a moment. "But I said if anyone can find a way back, it'll be that sonavabitch."
"You were right, my friend. Now tell me where we're at with preparations."
"Hadder?"
"Yeah."
"I'm truly sorry about Lilly. I thought she was one of the good ones. We all did."
The phantom wounds began to throb. "Maybe she still is, Glen. Facing death is no easy task, especially for those of us who have faced it before, stared down the gullet of the abyss. Truth be told, if she had just asked me, I would have plunged that knife in my own heart for her safety and happiness."
"But she didn't ask you. And she sure as shit didn't ask poor Royal."
"No, she didn't. She just acted out of self-preservation."
"Well, if I see her across from us in the Great War, I'm going straight for her. And I'm going to kill her."
Now it was Hadder's turn to place his hand on Glen's shoulder. "That's good, Glen. Because I don't think I'll be able to."
"Your return has emboldened them. Not just here, but all across the Setting. And just in time, too. I think more bad news may have crushed everyone's spirit."
Hadder didn't respond to Glen's words, instead choosing to keep his attention focused on the work being done on The Royal Jelly. Although he knew that Glen spoke the truth, Hadder was unnerved by his role of savior. One that had been thrust upon him by many residents. But given that it was a necessary burden to bear, Hadder simply decided to remain quiet on the matter. His mantle of messiah would be proven bullshit soon enough.
Ten feet from where the two men stood, twin guitars stuck up from the ground, marking where their friend Royal Winters lay buried. Hadder's chest rose and fell quickly as he continued to mourn his lost companion. Hadder looked over at the fresh grave and repeated a promise he had made several times in the past few Solays - we will fight to the end, Royal.
"We're making good progress," Hadder said to Glen as they both watched their deceased friend's Bar acquire needed defenses and offensive surprises. "If we dig in at various locations like this, it will be a real pain in the ass to uproot us. We should be able to hold out for months, if not more. Let's see how much these bastards are really willing to work for their precious freedom in the Before."
"Agreed. We'll be like the Afghanis, defending our labyrinthine positions and striking when and where least expected. We'll try the patience of these impatient freaks." Glen nudged Hadder hard in the ribs, pointed his chin across the lawn to the north. "Now, what the fuck is this?"
From one of the many garden pathways that spilled out into the vast lawn of The Royal Jelly, a female Riser stepped out, flanked on three sides by residents who each held a long blade to he
r throat or neck. The Riser wore a skin-tight black leotard with leather boots and leather bracelets that ran up and down both her arms. Although she bore no apparent weapons, Hadder looked carefully and spotted two small blades, sticking straight up from her knees, perfect for a deadly Muay Thai contest. To finish off her look, the woman bore a leather mask, pointed in the front like a human falcon mask, with eyeholes that revealed dark, calculating orbs.
Glen motioned the quartet over, placing his hand over the pommel of the sword he kept strapped to his side. When it came to Risers, no precaution was too much.
The Riser strode over, a confident march that would have been at home on both catwalk and battlefield. When she was fifteen feet from Hadder, Glen held up his hand. The Setter guards tightened their weapons against the woman's throat and neck, forcing her to a stop. An uncomfortable silence settled in as Riser and Setter stood face to face, sizing each other up. It was the woman who broke the muted stare-down. "Usually, the captor speaks first. And, as you can see, I am successfully captured. You must feel so powerful right now." Sarcasm dripped from her words like blood had surely trickled from her bladed knees.
Glen responded, "What is it you want, Riser? And know that if I don't like what I hear, I'll have you sent back to the Rising in pieces."
"Tsk tsk. That's no way to treat a war messenger."
"Is that what you are?"
"Well, I have a message, so you tell me."
"What's the message?"
The woman ignored Glen, turned her leather mask to face Hadder. "Marlin Hadder, officially back among the land of the living. The Krown wants you to know, the Great War wouldn't have been the same without you."
Hadder shot back. "Is that why he sent Lilly Sistine after me? It seems like he wanted to take a shortcut."
The Riser shrugged, the movement showcasing her toned body and fighting muscles. "Well, you can't blame him for trying. The more Risers that make it out of Station, the more havoc we can wreak on the world. Simple math, really. He had to give it a go. But he wants you to know that he's delighted that death didn't take. We all ache for a true test of our combat Elevations. Only Marlin Hadder can provide that."
Station Page 29
