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Another explosion rattled the building. A Ghost flickered into existence just on the outside of the door, their Guardian, a Warlock judging by the bond on his arm, gently herding a group of civilians back into a corner at his Ghost’s mental warning. The group was silent with nerves as the guttural sounds of hunting Cabal made their way down the street. After a few minutes, the Warlock’s Ghost returned, giving the all clear. And so, the quartet made their way out of the building, moving slowly towards the Wall, and the escape route that the Warlock knew was there.
The gladiator blindsided him. An impressive feat, considering their size. It would take more than one smash with the flat of a sword to take the Warlock out, however. He grimaced as he brushed some gravel from his arm, hoping none had been pushed too deep into his wounds. He found it mighty inconsiderate of these Red Legion brutes to attack with not even enough warning to pull on his armor. But the matter at hand was this gladiator. Defeating enemies and keeping citizens of the City safe.
The job of any Guardian.
He managed to pull a fistfull of Void easy enough, flinging it at the gladiator before drawing what appeared to be some kind of reworked Golden Age hand cannon. The fact that he had to reload before the gladiator fell was concerning. He waved off his Ghost’s offer of healing, wanting to wait until he was worse off, not wanting to waste time. Not wanting to waste Light. Collecting what they could of their wits, the quartet finished their journey to the Wall, where the Warlock couldn't help a soft sigh of relief at the sight of the Hunter currently helping a group of escapees through a hole in the Wall.
Once the last of the batch of refugees were through the Wall, the Hunter finally let himself turn to the Warlock. “We should really start thinking about making an escape, ourselves,” he murmured, gently reaching for the other’s shoulder, “I don't like this, Avin. This isn't how the Cabal do things. Something is going to happen and I don't know if I want to be here when it does.”
Avin sighed, covering the Hunter's hand with his own. “I know, Zak, I know. I don't know if you've noticed it, maybe it's just because of how much fighting we've had to do, but it's getting harder to draw on my Light. It almost hurts.” Zak-9 nods. “But I can't leave yet. There's still more people. I can't abandon them, not until I don't have a choice.”
“I know. I feel the same, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. Just...be careful, yeah?”
Avin gave Zak’s hand a squeeze before slipping back into the Wall. “I will. I'll be back. But...leave without me if you have to.”
He turned and left before Zak had the chance to argue.
---
‘One more group, that's all we can manage. Light above, Leshya, I'm so tired.’
The Ghost in question gently bumped Avin's cheek as the two paused for breath in an alley near the City’s center. « We can do it. I've got you, Avi. I think there's anoth-- »
Whatever Leshya was going to say next was cut short as Avin was driven to his knees with a pained whimper. It felt like he was being torn in two. Like there was this...hollowness burning in his chest. A void. Not the Void, but...wait. He took a deep breath, trying to draw his Light to his hand. Not even a spark. He willed himself to stay calm. He tried again. His concentration was broken at a hard, clattering sound on the stone next to him. The burning void sunk its teeth in even deeper.
Leshya was laying on the ground, black and blue shell still, optic dark. Avin couldn't feel anything through their bond. It was harder to will himself calm this time.
He picked up the Ghost, hands trembling as he tucked its still form into the cowl around his neck. The weight wasn't as comforting as it usually was.
Another vain attempt to recall even a spark of Light was cut short by another explosion just a block away. Avin retreated deeper into the alley at the sound of approaching Cabal. He tried to think of a way out. Had to figure out a reason for this. Had to survive. Leshya’s dead ( No, nonono he can’t be dead. Ghosts don’t just...die. But...the Light doesn’t just disappear either….does it? ) weight in his cowl demanded Avin’s frazzled attention once again as it threatened to roll out, threatened to hit the ground again with an awful thunk . Survival? How does one survive this?
...Was he going to survive this?
---
3 Hours Since the Light Died Disappeared
Avin could still hear stragglers as he slunk from hiding place to hiding place. He heard the screams as the stragglers were slowly found. He couldn’t help the cold fear in his gut everytime one of those pained sounds was close. Couldn’t help the guilt, either. Light or no Light, what kind of Guardian was he? Skulking around, only concerned about himself....one life or many, wasn’t his worth less than the civilians still trapped here?
He bit his tongue to stop an unbidden whimper as another ragged cry broke his reflection. Through inaction, was their blood on his hands?
He tightened his grip on his gun and pushed forward. Still skulking.
Still afraid.
5 Hours Since the Light Died Disappeared
He was starting to lose track of time. Smoke still clouded the sky above, never mind the storm that had been brewing prior. The trance that all but gripped Avin didn’t help those attempted temporal determinations.
Had he been on this street before? Was he going in circles? He’s lived in the City the whole of his second life, how could he be so lost? ‘The rubble doesn’t help, Warlock,’ a snide voice in his head commented, ‘ Better to just find yourself a nice place to die. You won’t escape this.’
Avin hadn’t heard any screams for a while now.
18 Hours Since the Light Died Disappeared
Avin sank down behind the counter with a groan. He was still alive...as little as that meant. It felt as though more time was spent lost than making any progress. More time being the recipient of pot shots taken from several stories up. More time making sure Leshya’s silent shell was still in his cowl. More time checking and rechecking his dwindling ammunition. More time being alone.
Oh, Light above...alone.
‘ He left you, no question. You’re alone now. More alone than you’ve ever been. You always knew you’d die alone, didn’t you? You always do. Those were practice. Put the gun to your head again now. What use do you have? No Light. No Ghost. How many people have you left to die today? How many more will you? Lost little Warlock, all alone.’
Avin pushed himself up, wiping furiously at his eyes. He only stumbled once as he returned to the smoke-covered streets.
1 3 5 Days Since the Light Died Disappeared
Avin was glad he had taken the time to learn basic first aid all those years ago. It wasn’t worth much, not with how few supplies he could scrounge. But he was at least able to keep the worst of the grime out of his wounds. Able to stop the bleeding.
‘ Just rest, Warlock. Find your grave and claim it. Lay down and wait for your final breath.’
He was tired. So tired.
??? Since the Light Died Disappeared
It was a painful thing to do. He knew it wouldn’t help. Knew it would only hurt. But still, there he was, tucked in an open pocket below some rubble, reaching with a mental hand for where the Light should be.
Reaching for where those Light-bonds should be.
He reached for Leshya, reached for Zak. He reached for them and cried from the pain and frustration of failure.
Or...he would cry, had he the energy and tears to spare.
‘ Always playing with the void, aren’t you. Even when It isn’t there, still you try. One would almost think you liked that harsh bite of those broken bonds. Tell me again what it feels like. Broken? Shattered? Burned and blackened? It feels like failure, doesn’t it? Feels like loneliness? Good. It’s what you deserve, coward. Your Ghost is dead, your boyfriend left you.
‘ Oh? But what if he didn’t leave you? What if he was just another casualty? He’s oh so devoted to you, after all. Can you guarantee that he actually left without you, like you asked? What if he came back for you? So unwilling to leave. His blood is on your hands too, little Warlock.’
Dulled blue eyes closed. Just for a moment.
Only a moment.
??? Since the Light Died
Every step hurt now. Every step jostled his arm, and Avin could swear that he could feel the embedded bullet rasp against bone with every bump. He couldn’t tell what blood was his anymore. Couldn’t tell what was from Cabal.
Couldn’t tell what was from the innocent.
He ran out of ammo blocks ago. No sense in trying to figure out time anymore. Count the passage in blocks. Count it in thoughts. Count it in footsteps between the thoughts.
‘ It’s endearing how you continue on.’
Counter progressed. He tried to tighten the makeshift bandage around his arm. He’d get the bullet out when next he got to rest.
The Light is Never Coming Back
Two hundred thoughts along. Or was it three?
There was no rest to be found.
The ache in his arm was almost ever present.
There was no escape.
Is There A Point To Surviving Now?
There was no explanation for how he still had the strength to run. For all the death he’s faced, for all the death he’s sought--
‘ For all the death you will seek, Warlock ‘
--for all the death he’s sought, some part of him still craves life in the face of this horror story.
He held Leshya in his hands, needing the comfort. Needing to be sure he wouldn’t bounce to the ground without warning. Leshya was still silent, optic dark. Avin stopped trying to talk to him five hundred thoughts back. The silence in response was just too painful.
Concrete splintered in his face as the Cabal attempted to herd him with a wayward shotgun blast. They started playing with their prey seven hundred thoughts back.
Avin didn’t expect to be herded to his destination, however.
The Wall towered above him, and for all the time he spends in the Wilds, he’s not sure he’s ever been so happy to see it.
He’d be happier if there was an escape route in it.
Luck blessed him again as he spied a small area of disrepair just ahead, exposing the internal maintenance pathways of the Wall. A small gap, too small for many.
But just big enough for one small warlock and his silent Ghost.
More shards of concrete rasped his face as he took that final dash, heart feeling like it would burst. He could see the gray of mountains and the green of distant trees on the other side. He knew this was the only chance for freedom he was going to get, and he was going to take it.
‘ Oh, but you’re still alone. Still so alone. Is it worth it? ’
5000 Thoughts Since Time Was Lost
Leshya was still silent. The darkened Ghost had since been moved to the battered pouch at Avin's belt, the warlock afraid that his resting companion ( He has to be just resting. Ghosts don't just die. Only resting. ) would be lost to the Wilds with one inopportune fall.
Though he'd long since given up on hearing any reply, still Avin kept his silent partner up to speed. Though one-sided, the conversation soothed his aching soul just enough to keep moving. Keep walking. Keep looking.
Avin had found a handful of trail signs. Various scraps of direction or warning left by those fleeing the City.
He had yet to find any from the one he was looking for.
2 Days Since Escape
Avin wasn't sure why it caught his eye. The tattered black was all but hidden in the brambles, too large to be a guide flag, any iconography near completely worn away. Without a doubt, it was left by some poor victim making their own escape; the scent of smoke and blood would likely never be completely cleaned from the fabric. But still he reached for it, seeing in it an extra scrap of warmth, if nothing else.
Gently tugging it from the bramble revealed it a cloak.
Swinging it around his shoulders revealed something more.
‘Such a loss. Revel in your failure.’
Where hood met cloak, there was stitching. Stitching that Avin recognized as surely as he recognized himself.
The thread was so easy to miss, but still there was a shade of blue so familiar, nestled in the weave.
It felt like only yesterday that Avin sat with Zak in the field, pressed against his bonded's side, needle in hand. The tear was only superficial, but the Wilds were quiet, as were the Fallen. Avin needed something to pass the time, and so he had asked for Zak's cloak. To patch even the smallest of damages.
And now the cloak was left abandoned, burned and bloodied.
Avin pulled the cloak tighter about himself, and tried to not howl in pain.
‘ You told him to leave you if need be. You should have been more specific. ‘
There's No Point
Avin was amazed that he was still going. He heard rumors of a Farm, of refugees and survivors. And yet he couldn't find it in himself to go. It was unlikely he'd find Zak. And he was the only one Avin cared about.
He pulled the cloak tighter around himself, pulling a dull and dead Void crystal from around his neck. Without the Light, it felt like no more than a fancy piece of rock.
Sense-blind.
` You killed him. His devotion got him killed. You got him killed. A true shame indeed. ‘
Heart-blind.