St Abbaddon

The Fortress Part 2:

Jesse and Jake landed just outside the Fortress in their Dragon forms, their Silenced Assault Rifles clutched in their talons. A fierce battle raged in the distance as Elizer and Henry launched their assault on the Fortress exactly as they had planned.

"Okay, Jake," Jesse said, his voice barely audible over the din of battle. "Be sure to keep up and stay alert."

"Don't worry about me, Jesse," Jake replied. "Just focus on finding Leuthen."

They slipped into the castle grounds, their movements silent and deadly. Two guards, their flashlights cutting through the darkness, spotted them.

"Take them out," Jesse whispered, his voice a cold command.

With a flick of their wrists, Jesse and Jake fired their rifles, the silenced rounds striking their targets with deadly accuracy.

They moved down to the edge of the courtyard, a chaotic scene of vehicles and patrols.

"When we're down there, you move when I move," Jesse instructed. "Do as I do. Understand?"

"Got it," Jake replied.

They dropped down and hid behind a truck. A single patrol was ahead.

"Hold," Jesse hissed. "Only shoot at what you can kill. Let's keep moving."

They prone and crawled under the trucks, avoiding the patrols. Jesse planted a C4 charge under one of the trucks.

"We'll plant C4 to cover our escape," he explained. "Might as well burn this place down while we're here."

They crawled out from under the Jeeps and hid behind a few crates.

"We're good," Jesse said. "Keep moving. There's the security office. C'mon."

They reached the door of the security office.

"I'll handle this," Jesse said, drawing his USP .45 Suppressed w/ Tactical Knife.

He knocked on the door. The guard opened it, and Jesse shoved him inside, knifing him silently. He then dispatched the other three guards in the room.

"Sometimes it's too easy," he muttered.

Jesse looked at the security feed.

"They've got cameras outside the command center," he said. "Both sides – here, and here. Eh, well, we'll just have to knock on the door."

He held a dead guard's hand up to the number pad and opened the door.

"Cheers," he said.

They moved down the stairs to the dungeons.

"Quiet," Jesse whispered. "Night-vision on. I'll take care of the lights."

They stacked up by the entrance. Jake turned on his night-vision.

"Ready?" Jesse asked.

He knifed the fuse box, plunging the dungeons into darkness.

"Weapons free! Kill Them All!" he shouted.

Jake took out the first guards.

"Sweep through this area fast," Jesse ordered. "They won't know how few we are in the dark."

Jake moved through the dungeons, taking out the guards. At the hall, a guard tossed a flare, lighting up the room.

"They're using flares!" Jesse shouted, taking off his night-vision. "We'll do this the old way."

They cleared the dungeons.

"You're on point," Jesse said. "Go."

"We have about ten minutes until they find their dead," Jesse said. "Then it will get really interesting."

He opened the door and they moved out. They climbed up the construction ladders.

"This bridge is the only way in or out of the base," Jesse said. "Plant some more C4 on the column."

Jake planted a C4 charge on the bridge column. They came to a narrow plank and moved across.

"This whole thing looks like it's about to collapse," Jesse said. "So take it slow."

They continued moving on the bridge, up another ladder, and up the stairs. Jesse saw a line of cables leading into a wall.

"Put a string charge on it," he said.

Jake finished placing the charge and got to a wall.

"The thunder from our artillery hitting this place will hide the sound of the blast," Jesse said. "Wait for my signal."

Jake took out the detonator. Jesse waited for the loud boom. It was heard, and Jesse signaled.

"Blow it," he said.

Jake detonated the wall charge. They moved in and saw logs holding together between two walls.

"We can climb up here," Jesse said. "C'mon."

They climbed the logs up the walls and came to a boarded hole that looked into the control room. The guards watched a live video feed of Jesse's father Emperor Brian and Helena being held hostage by Leuthen's forces. Leuthen himself was in the control room, giving an evil smile.

"This is what we are dealing with, brothers," Leuthen said, his voice dripping with venom. "A stubborn old man, hopelessly out of step with the changing world. You too, will change. We will all have to change if we are to fight back against the coming Darkness."

A guard walked in.

"Sir, still no response from the security room," he reported.

Leuthen smiled again. "I know. Not only do I know about the infiltration..." He looked at where Jesse and Jake were hiding. "...I engineered it."

The wall then blew out from behind Jesse and Jake, launching them into the room and onto the ground right at Leuthen's feet. "So glad you could join us for what is about to happen," Leuthen said, his voice laced with menace.

Jesse and Jake scrambled to their feet, surrounded by guards. Many of them had already transformed into White Light Dragons. "Do you like them?" Leuthen asked. "It is proof that the artifact works for what we need to do. All of humanity must change like them if we are to have any chance at defeating Galen and The Darkness!"

Jesse was confused. "How do you know about him?"

"Much more than you ever will if you refuse to join us," Leuthen replied. "When will you learn that we are on the same side here? My methods are simply better than yours. Unlike you and your weak father, I am actually willing to do whatever is necessary to protect the world of Abbaddon. Even if all of humanity has to change in order to do it. That is why I am now on my way to Abbaddon's Tomb where the final ritual will take place to change all the other humans of the world into Light Dragons exactly like the ones you see here. Before you think I am controlling them, you need to realize I am not a monster like that. They still have their full minds just like you two do. In order to defeat the Darkness and finally bring peace to the world, humanity needs to evolve and become Dragons like you. In the end, you will understand the truth. Until then though, my guards will make sure you remain here until the ritual is complete. After that, you will be free to go as my job will be done. Goodbye, my Prince. Be ready to do what you must against the Darkness."

Leuthen then managed to escape as Jesse and Jake began fighting against his guards. In order to kill the other Light Dragons, Jesse and Jake had to use their claws to slit their throats as they were the only things besides Ancient Dragon weapons that were sharp enough to pierce Dragon Scales and Armor.

"Time to get out of here, Jake!" Jesse shouted.

"Don't have to tell me twice!" Jake replied.

As they escaped, Jesse contacted Gladius and Elizer. "Wolf 1, it's Jesse! They have my father and Helena hostage at the Tomb of Abbaddon! Gather all of our forces and prepare to move against them there!"

"What about Leuthen's Fortress?" Elizer asked.

"That problem will be taking care of itself in a few seconds in a very explosive way," Jesse replied.

"Ok, understood," Elizer said. "We will be ready to join you once you get here. Wolf 1 out."

They came to a window above the bridge.

"Jump!" Jesse yelled.

Jake jumped out the window and safely landed on the ground below. Jesse followed. They crossed the bridge and engaged hostiles and a BTR at the courtyard.

"That BTR is blocking our way out!" Jesse shouted. "On me!"

They got in a Jeep and Jesse began to drive.

"Detonating C4! Now!" he yelled.

The C4 planted all around the Castle exploded, allowing them to break out of the gates and escape. As Jesse drove, he neared the side edge of the cliff road.

"Hold on!" he shouted.

BTR cannon fire hit the jeep and the engine began to go on fire.

"BTRs! Hope you're ready to fly, Jake! Get ready!" Jesse shouted.

Jesse drove past the BTRs and off the cliff. They jumped out of the jeep and unfurl their Dragon Wings as the jeep crashed and exploded below them.

"Eagle 1, get us out of here!" Jesse shouted.

"Roger that, Jesse," Henry replied. "I'm on the way."

They glided safely across the river and got into Henry's transport helicopter, which also had another full squad of Elite Steel Wolf soldiers in it along with Elizer and Gladius.

They all knew what needed to be done. "I'm done being formal with these callsigns," Jesse said. "Henry, take us to the Tomb of Abbaddon. It's time to end this!"

Reparations

“PULL!”

…

“PULL!”

…

“One more, lads! Hold the chain.” Whistling to the other crews, he poised himself back, feet embedded deep into the snow, and cleared his voice. The Draganisian captain called. “PULL!” His hands calloused. Fingers blackened by frost. A snow lain uniform in tatters. “FOR THE EMPEROR! PULL!”

The cold air had turned their chains to ice. The block-pulleys embedded into the mountainstone cracking with every heave and thrust of dozens of men—hundreds. Each pull was an inch gained—three inches — a foot more upward; all in an endeavor to get 70 tons of steel in range. Men already lost. Men already frail. Fainting now was not uncommon. This was their only way through… the entrance into Ibaño.

“10’o!” … “10’o!” Movement from the southside.

“Mortar!!!” The red-eyed Raquelin shouted for all to hear. From the other rims, the other crews knew what to do. “Heads down!”

Even under fire, they still had to hold onto the chains… ropes… whatever they were using to pull this thing. They could not let it fall. If a dragon fell. A man took his place. If a man fell. A dragon took his place. Dragonborn… human… Here they were all bloodkin. Bloody icicles in the palm of every man.

A counter-fire team entrenched in an indented seam above them waved a hand signal. Eliezer lent his voice to the soldiers. “All clear.” The Anarchian mortar team was taken out. But that didn’t stop the Anarchians from continuing to strafe them. Skirmish after skirmish. The Haulbowlineans proved their grit, launching deep incursions against the defenses along the outer walls. Using makeshift halberds to climb the mountainsides to later jump above the walls. Or scaling the walls using grappels against the hellfire.

But each and every time. Haulbowlinean or not. They would be inevitably thrown back.

“Damn, Fish Walkers!” Henry howled. Long-limbed. Of pure petal. The barrel of his rifle shattered upon impact with a metal leg. The bot was unfazed and shifted to use of its other limbs. It charged towards Henry. Eliezer stood by his side.

The long-legged robots had been employed by the Anarchians back in the Mainland. To harass ships traversing through the waters of Good Hood’s Bay, and to defend the Gift Isle. The sailors back in Oceania had called them Sea Walkers… Whatever the Anarchians called them was not known. But they were deadly. And agile. But until now they hadn’t believed their use was capable on land.

“Down!” Eliezer had Henry pinned down. Avoiding a bursting metal claw that emerged out one of the legs. Pulling his pistol out the holster, Eliezer shot at the core of the bot, towered above the legs. The bot remained unfazed, attempting to pin them down, circling them. Then it unveiled… “It’s charging up!” called a soldier. “Down!” … “Everybody down.”

The energy beams came down upon the men. Searing through an old Haulbowlinean. Ravaging a limb off a Steel Wolves arms man. And near-vaporizing a Stryker AFV in its entirety. Then the beams stopped. And Eliezer and the others worked to finish the job.

That had been one of the handful of attempts they’d made to try and create a sizeable breech. The Leuthenists were throwing everything they had. Using everything they had. Upon destroying the bot, the breech became filled with little miniature spiders. “Those aren’t sentient.” Bots that immediately swarmed the walls, repairing them. Later reinforced by more of those Sea Walkers. Bradan and Henry had plotted all night… all day… Across the time they’d been in this siege.

Now, this was their best bet. Bradan and Henry had crossed their fingers. They had sworn under the gods of Atlantias and the name of Bahamut.

“PULL!”

<<Explosives are being set, Commander Alexander. The Leuthenists have men on the summits. Including a medical camp.>>

<<Do what you have to. Rourke, stay alive out there.>>

<<Where’s the shame in being dead? … Haha. No worries, we’ll get this done through and through.>>

Hunter Rourke had taken his band of mercenaries into the Alpentine mountaintops. Bradan’s plan. The AluerSambu Guard were “expendable” Henry had added. Eliezer had expected resistance from the proud Rourke, but the man simply agreed without any dispute. Perhaps he’d grown a fondness of the men he’d now been forced to work with. Pay no longer mattered here. There would be no payment if they were dead.

Eliezer had volunteered, but he’d been ordered to stay with them. “I’ll go with them,” Bradan had told them. “A Steel Wolf should not perish in snow. A broken Haulbowlinean, on the other hand.” The Haulbowlinean only smirked. “Why, I enjoy a good hike.”

“PULL!”

The chains were now becoming less of a struggle.

“We’ve got it on a ledge!” one officer shouted. “Bring the other blocks!”

“PULL!”

The dragons used all their strength. All their behest. All their directives. The Draganisian officers were as loud as the Oceanics. If not… even more moralized. Scaled arms, skin and flesh. Together as one force and one purpose.

“PULL!”

“We’re almost there. Almost!” … “Almost!” called another officer … “Almost!” another shouted from a ledge higher above. The tank crew began shifting from amidst them. Preparing to do what was needed of them. A team of engineers began emplacing large boards of sanded plywood. The motion was set. Their plan on the move. The Haulbowlinean officers that were left gave Eliezer eyes of approval.

Eliezer heaved. This it it. “PULL!!!”

The snow felled them all the same.

…

Legend says once the islands of St Abbaddon flew aloft. Its folk gazing down at the crystal blue waters that had once been the home of merfolk. Been the home of hundreds of thousands of aquatic dwellers. And now, all those tales. All those memories. All the cultures borne of those merfolks… Lost into the abyss that was history. Aeons never to be uncovered. The merfolk remnants still considered false by those delved deep in the science.

Ah… St Abbaddon. The azure beauty of her, so renown and yet so mysterious. Two daughters borne from the hand of King Abbaddon. The island of Rowandale; the dappled Sapphire Islands. Defined by Lord Rydiafan’s hand, the first of the line of kings and emperors that arose from the land of Trutinia. A lineage that stretched across millennias… Not without its troubles.

Here in the canopy. Here in the ancient woods of the Shado… The low hanging whistles translated a signal.

“Carol…” Rif, the gunner, rustled through the branches. His gun poised within the leaves. “Was that the signal?”

“Not yet,” Carolina said. She looked down below them. There was no sign of them yet… Damn. This better not be false intel we were fed. Military recon could largely be trusted. But simple scouts… The Earl Edmund has pledged his loyalty to Leuthen. How could they trust these civilian scouts. Survivors they knew nothing about or whom they’d served.

“Joseph has made mistakes before.” Carolinia kept her gaze on forest floor. “Maybe we shouldn’t be trusting these scouts.” It was not necessary to use them in the first place. Not when their loyalties could be questioned. “The Rowandale Remnants volunteered.”
“Wouldn’t say it's our decision.” Rif remarked, “We’re just following orders.”

“We can question them, for one.”

The woods sang and the soldiers waited. They rustled the leaves. The wind swept their hair… long and overgrown since the days of their refuge. Once they all wrinkled their noses in disgust but slowly adapted to their conditions. Dragonborn and humans alike. Stained by boredom, too.

Carolinia found herself awoken in the middle of the night. Eyes widened. The tune of classical whistles in the distance.

“What’s the status?”

“Burton’s men. They’re in the woods.”

“Show me.”

There was a fireteam of men with the Rowandalian emblem emblazoned on their armband. Trekking through the brush seemingly searching for something. “We’ve been exposed?” Rif asked, his voice melancholic.

Carolinia couldn’t tell for sure. “I’ll take watch. You get some rest, Rif. I’ll wake you if we get anything.” And Rif smiled and fell fast asleep, his back to the tree.

She remained poised, her night vision showing blurred figures but still figures moving through the brush. “Damn it Joseph,” she quietly whispered. An island divided by ideology. A people divided. Leadership divided. Was this the dream of St Abbaddon, the heart of it… Rowandale. The Bore City. The City of Heroes. Once a city; a name of the whole island.

Carolinia closed for eyes for but a moment. Remembering her home. The little village. The shacks. The old cattle. How her little brother would urge her to come to the lake during the winters. To fish during the days of ice. To pray for every creature slain, by the river and the azure sea. “The Gods watch us little one. And one day the Second Harbinger shall come in their name to judge us all the same.” The words of the elders stuck in her mind. Their philosophies, wisdom, and tales passed down through the ages.

The fire… Oh. There had been a fire. It ravaged the woods. Scorched the earth and fauna. Sent the families in a panic. When the army arrived… It was not the one they had planned on expecting. And at the helm… A red and black banner. Instead of a golden star, a black one stood in its place; a bastard flag of Rowandale waving inches below.

Carolinia had been in the woods. A knapsack, a sandstone coated sword, and a bow hung over her shoulder. When she saw the light she assured herself it was the lighting of bonfires for the mornings hunt. Not the sound of gunfire, folk rounded up, her fellow kinsfolk fighting hand to hand with the enemy. Taking up their own rifles and fighting back with training on par with the enemy. War.

A people divided. A nation divided. A man divided.

From when the Heroes first rebelled. Defeating the Empire’s grasp over the isles. All remember the tales of Lord Rydiafan and his heroism in defying the might of the First Harbinger. King Abbaddon, the creator of these lands. The raiser of nations. But none tended to remember the other tales. The ones that came after Rydiafan. The rule that his wife the Empress Rowan came to know over the isles of St Abbaddon. A nation divided is a principle known from the olden. And now…

“Rif.” Carolinia fixated her gaze. “Rif.” She shook the gunner.

“Huh?”

“It’s time.” And the low hanging whistles streamed across the canopies.

…

<<Castle 5-4, to Central Command, location looking clear.>> The officer dispatched. <<No sign of foes.>>

Central Command. <<Castle 5-4, get your men to White Castle and secure the perimeter. General Commander expects a FOP.>>

<<Roger…>> The transmission pauses. <<Central Command…>>

<<Still on comms, Castle. Status?>>

<<Three Rowandalians dead. Burton sworn.>>

<<Maintain your positions, Castle 5-4. Reinforcements will be en route pronto.>>

<<My men are shouting—Holy—>>

<<Castle 5-4, do you copy?!>>
<<Castle 5-4, do you COPY?>>

<<…>>
… <<They’re everywhere!!! EVERYWHERE.
Send help — on my mother… SEND HELP—>>

…

The last whistle was blown.

Rif nodded.

Carolinia had the last call.

“NOW!”

The convoy saw… A bloodbath.

Ropes fell down. Bullets rained downward. A crew of three on a tree to her side rained down hellfire from a grenade launcher. Wrecking a Stryker, and destroying a rundown M113 beside it. Armor was blown into thousands of shards. Shrapnel wounded some. Fires slayed others. Men crawled out of the flames. Anarchians felled in every direction. Slain by bullets. Slain by knives. Slain by the butt of a rifle or the piercing of a bayonet. The chaos. And she couldn't help it. She smiled at those of the red and black. It wasn't as if they cared about the other side either. There's nothing stopping us.

Carolinia swung down with all the rest. Swinging her rifle at an officer on the comms of a truck. “HELP!” he called out. His call cut short by the end. Carolinia took the chance to fell his companions in a heartbeat.

Rocket. Grenade. Emblazoned in black. Orange arising from the flames. The treees watching silently as the people of St Abbaddon slayed eachother. Brethren against brethren. The blood marking this woodland a place of wormwood. Of disgust and sorrow. A cursed place for all time. Yet, Carolinia could care less. These days they were all cursed. They had crafty and silent. She could bother herself no less about cursed things when it came to the Anarchians. For men like them deserve no recompense. Life is forfeit for such foes like them.

“Take the munitions!” Called the Vice Admiral Roydark. One of Tau’s loyal. “Take their vehicles. Take it all! Let’s go. Go! Go! Go!” Men began carrying crates out of the trucks. Seizing the armaments. The trucks. All that was left was their’s for the taking.

She took what she had to. The trucks began moving. The debris was immediately cleared by the Dragonborn. “Let’s go!” the Admiral called.

“Sir, the prisoners.” Several soldiers had captured Anarchians and had rounded them up a good way from the flames of the convoy.

Carolinia locked eyes with the Vice Admiral. He knew.

She approached the prisoners cautiously. Her rifle poised for any possible movement. One move and they’d all be gone.

There within them was a young woman. Her name not a concern of Carolinia. Nor her uniform. “Your Rowandalian?” Carolinia asked. When the woman did not open her mouth Carolinia waived her rifle. “Answer me!”

“I… Yes. Yes. My mother was—“

“So you are Rowandalian?”

“I mean… Yes.” But when the rifle was further pressed to her neck she cried out. Stoked by fear she froze.

“Answer me. Are you Rowandalian?”

“I… Am.” This time the answer was clearer. Carolinia nodded.

“And you all. Are you Rowandalian?”

She received no response from the other prisoners.

“Well. That settles it.” She turned to Rif and her fellow soldiers. “Leave the girl. Take care of the rest.”

The woman lifted her eyes up in horror. “No. You can’t!”

“Carolinia! The hell is going on?” The admiral said.

“NO! Please. Have mercy. MERCY!”

The Oceanics raised their rifles. The Draganisians followed suit. And at last… “ROWANDALE! Present.”

Carolinia pulled aside the Rowandalian woman. Even as the woman tugged at her sleeves like a child. Futile attempts to change the course.

“FIRE!”

Wormwood, Carolinia recalled.

“No!” The woman got on her knees. “NO!” Fists flailing and feet kicking. “Why. WHY!? You are a monster. ALL OF YOU!”

Carolinia ignored her.

“Carol!” Rif shouted.

In an instant she felt her feet kicked up underneath her. And she was slammed down into the forest floor. Leaves and dirt in her mouth. “Monster. Monster. Monster.” Is what she heard. The woman slammed fist after fist. Carolinia had to gasp for every breath. Her stomach sinking within her.

“You—Traitor…” Carolinia mouthed. “Who are you?”

“A loving wife of mine dear Jinha.” She laughed painstakingly. “Loyal to the true cause.” The woman spoke truthfully. “Leuthenist.”

“Go…ood.” The pressure ceased. The hands on her throat were relinquished. Her voice cracked, albeit strained… Struggling for every gasp of air.

When the Oceanic soldiers saw her. When her fellow Rowandalians saw her. The Gold's Hollese troops that she'd led, fought, and bled beside. They would not see this... creature the same way. Madness, some said. Revenge, others answered. Whatever the case. Whatever her aims. Whatever her cause. Carolinia. Is this really you?

Carolinia’s lips trickled red.

May the Gods curse this forsaken place.

…

“Leuthenists! Southside.”

Henry called out. His hand waving towards the foes below. “Open fire!”

<<Gerald I moving in. Commander.>>

Eliezer held his commlink. “Sergeant hold your objective. Fire on the enemy.”

<<Wilco.>> The Draganisian M1 tank surged forward towards the edge of the ridge. Sheer will had brought it up here. Now it was the crews sheer will that would determine the demise of Base Ibaño. <<Enemy. Down below. Gunner!>> … <<Turn! Down! Down!>> … <<Forward… Ready Canister—… Infantry oncoming 9’o… NOW! Fire!>>

The ranks of Anarchians were curbed. But for a moment.

<<Driver … Forward!>> The tank commander called out.

The tank roared forward… forward… Forward! Soldiers were puzzled as the tank’s tracks skidded over the ridge. The tank tilting down, gun first; the shouts were louder and louder. They were bewildered at this action.

That was the plan.

<<Gunner… OR-T… Wall southside. Prepare!!>>

Almost there. Almost. Eliezer thought.

Eliezer tugged his commlink. “Fire when ready.” He waved his hands. “Henry! Raq! Ready yourselves.”

The tank's gun began shifting towards the wall of the base. The hope on the horizon. The final stretch of this siege— “Commander!” a Steel Wolf clamored loudly.

“Commander!”

Raquelin from a distance was one of the first to look up. No time to even glance. “Hostiles! Four o'clock... Black chopper! Black chopper!”

Those bastards again.

Henry clicked his comm. <<I thought we'd taken our their aerial prowess. Eliezer?!>>

For days they'd worked to clear out the Anarchian stealth helicopters operating throughout the mountains. <<One's escaped our hands, Henry. Bahamut be damned!>>

Nestled between the mountains. It unveiled itself. Cannons in tow. Rockets poised.

First the cannons.

“Down! Down! Everybody down!”

Soldiers in all directions embedded themselves down into the rock and snow. The spray of fire from the helicopter forcing none to look up... Only for the few brave and bold that were willing to stand in the face of death.

Henry took cover behind a boulder. “Sergeant, we need you to blow that wall. Now!”

<<Still loading, Commander Bartley.>>

”Damn it.” Henry pressed his commlink. Eliezer heard. “Hamil Rjardsoon. Hamil! We need your Stingers in, now!”

<<My crews are down, Bartley. The damn chopper. Bodies rolled off the damn cliff.>>

Screw this. Eliezer laid his iron sight onto the chopper. The cannonfire ceased. The bastard's out of rounds. ”Open fire!”

From all directions the spray of gunfire countered the chopper. But its movement was quick, circling above the line of fire and avoiding direct contact from its foes below. Eliezer kept the spray. He too was running. Right there. The fallen launchers from the men above.

In any moment that chopper could fire one of its Hellfires. One missile and the M1 tank would be finished. And so would this mission.

Eliezer was still too far. Running. No.

”Eliezer!”

Henry. Eliezer smiled. You damn bastard.

Eliezer leaped into the air—the launcher right there. In the air coming towards him.

In one swing. One swift maneuver. He locked the Stinger.

Eliezer smirked. “Fire away.”

.

<<... We're in! We're in!>>

.

Eliezer sent word to the Draganisian princes.

“Go in. Whatever you do. If he's there. Make sure Leuthen pays for this.”

...

Five days later.

The Coming Storm

Base Ibaño had fallen. And all its men with it. Buried in the snow. Bradan's plan come to fruition.

From his transport helicopter, he'd called out, “We're out, Bradan. Rourke. Detonate the tops!”

The avalanche that came swarmed the formidable castle and stronghold that had been the Leuthenists last true foothold on Rowandale. Some towers remained. But the peril the enemy had been left in was far too damaging to ignore. Without Ibaño they had only the strength of Polksberg left.

“Henry, take us to the Tomb of Abbaddon. It's time to end this!”

The Anarchian stronghold in the formidable Ridge. The highest peaks of the Alpentine Mountains penetrated. With only a select number of men. And their sheer will. What had once been impossible. What had been deemed a feat not worth trying. “To all those we've lost. To all those we will lose. Our fight is not yet over, men!” the Oceanic Remnant General Nemo Bouvier spoke to all in the quarry. “Leuthen will meet our strength. Our resolve will not be broken. His will.”

They had expected Leuthen's presence in the Tomb. But it was all but gone. His prisoners taken with him. He knew we'd be coming back. But they knew Leuthen would be returning soon enough. They all knew.

Day and night they worked the quarry. Hollowing out the caverns to fit supplies. Stockpiling weapons. Hauling whatever they could from the ships still on the coast.

Henry hadn't believed this new position to be feasible. With how much work was being done. He became convinced perhaps this was the way. The only way to win. The only way they'd survive until the end of war.

The Draganisian princes had been the keymost advocates for this new position.

“We know what Leuthen's coming for.” Prince Jesse pressed a finger on a map of Rowandale. “North of the city. Here.”

Captain Joseph Cossette stared at the map. “That's nothing but hollowed ruins. An old quarry that hasn't been active for decades.” He scratched an overgrown chin. “You sure your not mistaken, Jesse?”

“He's not.” Joseph's right-hand emerged. She'd been given a new name after her venture into the Shado forests. The Bloodmask. “My father brought me there once. For my inaguration ceremony. Its customary for nobles to present their born children there. And to inagurate their heirs.”

“King Abbaddon's tomb,” Jesse said. “My men have already set up in the quarry. Leuthen seeks the power of the tomb. It is his final solution. We cannot let him take it... Unless you want humanity to cease existing.”

Joseph had by default become the chief of the coalition forces here in Rowandale. Even with the rank of Captain. His endeavors had led to victory after victory. And his intellect had kept the alliance standing even amidst the chaos. It was his call to make to shift everything to the quarry. After all, the moorland village was no longer an option. “Go then. Get everything to King's Fall.” Carolinia led the march. And now here they were.

Artilery batteries were being set up at the tops of the hollow. Runways being paved for the aircraft. Trenches. Barricades. Only a sole entrance into the quarry, a wide gap in the hollow stretching all the way to the top. All others were barricaded or covered up, mostly tunnels and water channels. The preparations for the oncoming army.

West of their position, a distance from the shoreline. The King's Isle was where their ships were now docked. An ancient isle. Awaiting the Trutinian Navy.

This was their only chance.

Joseph had asked the Admiral Tau, Maya Burton upon her return. “Did Edmund give you an ultimatum?”

“My father will not be joining us,” The Admiral Tau answered. “He will not be joining us in this fight.”

Trutinian loyalist. Leuthenist bastard. The thoughts were not only Henry's. None had expected much from Edmund Burton. Some had hoped, such as Joseph Cossette. But there was nothing else that could be done to persuade him. “He told me to join him,” Admiral Tau scoffed. “After everything. After all this. He refuses to help even his own family. His own friends.”

“I'm sure Edmund has his reasons,” Joseph stated.

“Well he can shove those reasons down his throat.” Admiral Tau was furious. “Him and that woman he'd mentioned. The Lady Warlord.”

.

In the dimness of moonlight. At the highest point of the hollow. Whistling a tune, on a boulder. Henry remained fixed on polishing his rifle. It was a quiet night for once. Without sounds of ailments. Men in desperation. The cries of the damned. For the last nights were coming. The scouts reporting that Leuthen's AFVs were already reentering the Shado forest. The first clashes had already begun.

“Henry.”

He looked up. “Eliezer.”

The two of them had been through hell and back. From their first meeting in the seas of Rowandale. Henry as the last surviving pilot of a nigh impossible recon mission. Eliezer as the guardian of the Princess Helena, the heir to Hard Coast. And perhaps the key to everything... If what Jesse personally told Henry is true.

“Helena. Why would Bahamut curse a girl like her in such a position.” Henry sighed.

Jesse's not wrong. We don't have a choice now, Henry. Leuthen has Helena. Helena has something... Some kind of power. She was born with it. All that we can do now is stop Leuthen from reaching the tomb.” Eliezer fiddled with a boulder in one hand. “Whatever Leuthen wants for us. Its what we've been fighting against all this time.

“He was in Ibaño, dammit.” Henry balled up a fist. “Jesse and Jake had him in their sights. They fought his guards You! You had him on your sights, and you failed.” Henry was in furor. “Are you a traitor? Is this your doing. Your set-up. Who are you, Eliezer?” The Deagle aimed right at his friend's head. “Who the hell are you?”

...

Raquelin screeched as she drove the bayonet deep into the white dragon. The beast let out a shriek of despair before the other Steel Wolves jumped at its head. Burying metal into its eyes. Embedding lead, daggers—anything. Its companions followed.

But the one man in that hall that stood headstrong. Without fear. “Open fire!” Eliezer ordered thunderously. His men advancing towards the man without a weapon. Slowly making his way towards the throne. For there was something this man had left long ago. Buried. Refused to use again.

Until this very moment. And this desire state of the world.

“You should have kept your mouth closed, Commander.”

A kick. A swing of a balled fist. One man down. Volley after volley of bullets. And yet this man ran past it all. Avoiding and swinging as if youth had not left him. “Come at me, you Wolves. Howl at me. See what fortune it shall bring.”

Leaping from the walls. Throwing daggers at his men. One by one they were felled by the famed General Commander. A martial of renown. “Hold!” Eliezer shouted. “Hold!” They continued to fire and aim. They had to. If they stopped now they'd be dead. And Leuthen would get what he wanted.

In mere heartbeats. Eliezer was the only one left. Watching as Raquelin locked arms with Leuthen, trying to break her rifle out of Leuthen's grip.

He was there. Right in front of him.

But Raquelin...

The bodies left behind that day to be drowned in the avalanche. Eliezer would never forget those men. Who'd fought beside him to the end. Haulbowlinean... Oceanic... Draganisian.

Leuthen held his treasure in one hand. And Raquelin's throat in the other. “Thank you for handing this over, Commander.”

Raquelin choked. “Eliezer. The hell you doing. Shoot the bastard. Sh..o”

“Right here, Commander. I'm right here.” Glowing blue and made of solid Draganium. The warhammer was Leuthen's prize. A mark of true skill with a polearm. A weapon he hadn't used since the end of the Oceanic Wars for fear of bringing forth once again war on the lands. A promise he'd once made public, a promise he'd sworn to his fallen niece. Cate Potterrose.

“She wouldn't want this. You know.”

“What is the difference between you and I. That you'll simply do what's best. I am doing what I deem best, Commander. The failures. The death. The destruction. Do you believe I wanted this? No one is perfect nor you and I.” Leuthen lifted the hammer higher. “A symbol of the new age. A united humanity. A united world.” He leaned it towards Eliezer. “A gift. For you.”

“He cocked his rifle. Let her go.”

The General Commander did as told.

“There's a place in my ranks for you. If you accept.”

“Leave,” Eliezer stated. “Or you'll be dead. Not by me.”

The roar of explosions high above them shook the entire facility.

“I see.” Leuthen swung his hammer and broke the castle's windows overlooking the mountains. “We will meet again, Commander. Tell the princelings that I'm coming. And this time, I won't be granting them a second offer.” Leuthen disappeared into the snow.

When Bradan had finally regrouped with them south of the Ridge he'd asked. “Leuthen? Did you kill him.”

Eliezer's men only pointed at Raquelin's throat. Then they glanced towards Eliezer.

For sparing one life he may have just doomed thousands more.

...

“A cold night isn't it?”

She had watched quietly as the Steel Wolf flailed his fists in the air. Shouting. Bringing forth his reckoning upon the whispers of wind. Whistling rough tunes of furor and rage afire.

Carolinia placed down her lantern on the stony shore. “You may a difficult choice. You may think it’s useless but you’ve proven you are still human, Commander Alexander. A sense of selflessness.”

“Selfishness you should say,” Eliezer retorted.

“You kept Raquelin alive. That is not selfish no matter what they may say. Kill Leuthen there or elsewhere. His army still approaches all the same.” She knew the pain of being alone and muted in guilt. This man knew it moreover. “His reign will end soon. If you accept. We will do it together.”

Eliezer was unmoving. “You saw the village… What was left.”

“Leuthen’s wrath.” Carolinia recalled that moment. How the people that had followed them retched at their sight. The fearful eyes. The tears of kinsfolk.

“The bodies. Both his own and of the Rowandalians. He… The prisoners.”

“Leuthen’s men seemingly were unable to keep surging number of prisoners. And the price those folk paid was death. So did the soldiers that refused.” Carolinia had written Leuthen’s name down long ago. As one of those that would see her face. This man, he hadn’t been there at the village. But every moment. Every death on this island. The fall of Rowandale. One man was responsible for all this.

My people must be avenged. When she held a girl’s doll. Left behind in those corpses. She swore that vow.

The dwarf that had accompanied the Haulbowlinean Bradan from his venture in the mountains Antero Uosukainen, named by the men as "Anthony the Dwarf" was one such that swore a similar vow. “Why would I leave to reside in the mountains once more. I have nothing. No people to go back to. Let me stand beside you all. For I have nothing but bloodlust to live for.”

Eliezer sat down along the beach. “We have one chance, then… It is time.”

“We’ve made our errors you and I. But fools. No. We will see Leuthen once again. Together we—“

“We will stop him. Either with his life or his capture.” The Draganisian princelings emerged from the shadows. “This ends and it will end with his demise,” Prince Jesse said.

Jake nodded. “I will be there as well. Looking for Leuthen when he arrives.” He laughed. “Seeing him die will be a good.”

Jesse nodded. “Lieutenant Keskitalo, Commander. Captain Cossette calls for you.” He handed both of them papers. “Maps for your venture. Joseph is sending out teams to delay Leuthen’s arrival.” He shook his head. “The sooner he comes the better off we would be. He has Brian and Helena.”

Jake said, “We need the time to prepare ourselves.”

Eliezer looked at Carolinia. “We’ll meet with Joseph.”

As the two of them straightened themselves, Jesse approached the Commander Alexander closely. “Commander. Everything you’ve done. Everything, I know about you. When this war is done you’re most welcome to reside in the Palace of Draganisia. I could use someone like you in the Royal Guard.”

Eliezer had not much to say. “I appreciate the gesture, my Prince. But I intend to see to my family’s estate. And find them.”

Jesse nodded. “Understood. Then I wish you all the best. You will be most welcome to visit your sister whenever. You have my word.”

Eliezer curtly lowered his head. “Thank you.”

As the sun rose across the horizon. All of Rowandale and all its denizens knew that the time had come. For Leuthen’s army was coming. And what would come would define St Abbaddon for aeons to come.

Two riders left the safety of King’s Fall. Exiting the towers of stone that formed the sole entrance. A sandstone coated sword in one side. A Stee Wolf on the other.

When these two returned. The banners of black and red would be at their doorstep.

Long O Live St Abbaddon.

…

The General Commander

“Petra Schlappi has landed all across the island, General Commander. The southwest has seen fighting in the Shado forests. Her fleet is attempting to establish a toehold. She has met with Edmund Burton.”

“The Lady Warlord has arrived,” Leuthen remarked. His eyes on the map of the island. “She lacks the momentum that we already possess. The former president is late to the game.” Leuthen was unfazed. “She can play general as she pleases. Without Edmund willing to rebel against ua she has nothing to gain here. Our troops will attack King’s Fall and finish this. For our new order. A perfect world.”

“Let the people choose their fate!”

“General Commander. Even with a victory in Rowandale. The Draganisians have invaded the Oceanic Mainland once more and have already broken our lines in the west. Imperi Anarchia is soon to fall in the east to the Oceanics… Our victory—”

Leuthen raised his fist. “General Olga. We will win. It will remain certain. If all fails, order Megan Nelson to use all surviving naval assets. Destroy all infrastructure in the Gift Isle. Nothing will remain.” Leuthen could only believe victory in their grasp. But the plans for defeat must be set as well.

“Our years of struggle shall come to a close. Generals. Colonels. All of you. For years you have followed me. Unlike the scourge of Nicholas Vinski. It has been your will for which you’re standing beside me. I thank you.” His voice echoed. “We will be the next step of humanity’s evolution. Darkness…

“…Why it shall never prevail. Not as long as I live. Leuthen of Anarchia. And our Anarchian Union. For all St Abbaddon. For this world’s fate.”

“Long live St Abbaddon! Long live Anarchia!”

———
====

Next Post: King’s Fall (the Finale)

Promo still relevant:

It all starts with a legend.

King Burton: "It started as a legend. One of the greatest of all. For thousands of years we kept the Trident of Abbaddon hidden... from what was destined to happen."

Darkness Is Coming

Galen: "Do you seek redemption?"

Victor: "Yes I do."

We must remember the past.

Jake: "If you could see Adria again. What would you say to her?"

Jesse: "That I have missed her. That I wish I was able to protect her. And that if I ever saw her killer again I would kill him myself."

In order to save the future.

Burton: "These are troubling times. Without great leaders... chaos reigns."

The Battle between the Light and Darkness is coming to its end.

Burton: "Galen and his Black Fleet are coming. You are all that stands in his way."

Will they be able to save the ones they love?

Burton: "And now for the greatest mission of them all. To turn the tide of Abbadon's history."

Or will they lose everything?

Burton: "The destruction of everything we know and love begins."

They must fight to survive.

Jesse: "I'm not leaving you! Not again!"

And save everything.

Alexis: "When all seems lost. A few brave people... can save everything we have ever known."

But when you are in complete Darkness...

Jake: "The war is over Jesse! We've lost!"

Jesse: "No! I'm not giving up and neither should you!"

And all seems lost...

Galen: "For the universe to make it to its Final Shape... it must die!"

That is when you will find the Light.

Jesse: "I've missed you Adria."

Adria: "I've missed you as well Jesse. But I am here now... wherever the hell here is."

King’s Fall

The sea told a story. Of dragons and their followers. Of lords with knights at their side, marching side to side of their house; polearms of thousands in hand. A warrior’s cry streaking the land. Fires raging. Villages torn. The marching bands gave way to nothing but cinder and ash in their wake. A few told tales about how it all came down. When the Trident fought against the Sapphire King. When the Merfolk exacted their own wrath to the one who had taken it all from them.

Salt and sea. The old and the new. The waters had drowned these bits of land. The site of this ancient battleground. King’s Fall. This was their damnation. To repeat the sins of their forebears. Kin against kin. Blinded by the ideals of their side. For their own glory and justice they would fight for. The same way it had been aeons ago.

Put down the M4. Hold it steady. Keep your thumb slightly open to let the sweat flow out of the palm. Watch the rook. The rocks. Any sign of movement. For anything would be a sign of danger. A sign of death. An army besieged by one such force even greater than it.

For Bahamut had this day in sight.

And not even they know who would live from it.

…

The skirmishes began at dawn.

More than a quarter hundred men were dragged in wounded and dead into the hollow. Medics dragging them into secluded caverns to do their best to treat and save them. The reports flooded in, thousands reported seeing them. The banners of black and red. And so were their allies.

Carolinia took to help a field medic haul a wounded officer towards a stretcher. All he said was the same, “The Prince… that blue closeted Prince leads them. He’s there.”

Trutinians.

The first clashes were the most violent. With the woods becoming razed in fire. Gas fired from both sides with the woodlands no longer being save for foot soldiers. The treetops were key areas for soldiers to hide and jump onto Leuthenist and Trutinian convoys. With every one they took out though, more seemed to emerge from the woods.

The bombs. The artillery. It all slowed. Every day was more of the same. Teams moving back and forth. Soldiers retaking a hill and losing it. Raiding a Leuthenist forward operating base in Rowandale City. The key of this were the logistics. And while the Leuthenists were still allied with those Trutinians. They had supplies for days. The Draganisian Alliance could not say otherwise.

When men were afraid they would sing songs and dance in the fears of the night. The bonfire became the centre of livelihood. Of light. But when those men died. What spark was there to experience… to express? Each and every day they lost more and more. Posts became unmanned. Units became more obsolete. By this point their organization was akin to a simpleton miilitia. All that stood of their might was this stone quarry they had taken as a fortress. Awaiting the arrival of the General Commander. His hostages, namely the Princess Helena of Ormstein, a reminder that he still had power over them.

Carolinia, Eliezer, Raquelin, and a dozen others pointed their rifles at the enemy. As did the Leuthenists and Trutinians vice-versa. Amongst them stood Jesse and Leuthen, eyeing eachother face to face. With Helena on one side with a gun pointed behind her back and Brian on the other. A draganium spear.

“The tomb will be ours, Jesse. I am giving you the chance to appeal to peace. Tranquil measures, your Prince. Lay down your arms and let us pass. We shall not spill more of our blood.” Leuthen remained poised. Clad in scaly armor of red and black A surprising sight for a man known for his distaste of outlooks. And his glowing blue warhammer in one hand. He truly was a man of history. Lowering his gaze, adding, “Make the choice.”

“You won’t kill her,” Jesse spouted. Spitting at the ground in disgust.

“But him,” Leuthen said. Bumping an open palm at Brian’s head. “I don’t care about.”

Zed, the Trutinian princeling rose to the front with Leuthen. “And I,” he said, unveiling an additional desert eagle, “Don’t have Leuthen’s weaknesses for this… One.” He spoke of Helena. “Commander Gelina. Pull the trigger if you must.” A woman of high stature stood beside him. Brushing closely to the prince. Her gaze turned oddly violet with an aura darkened determination around her irises. She’d not seen such. Not even from Raquelin.

Eliezer and the Steel Wolves kept poise. Battered and weary from nights of patrols but still able to keep their own. Even at the edge of a shootout.

Zed’s Legionnaires kept still. Arms ready. Eyes open. Grips firm. Calm and steady.

“So what it will be, your Prince. What option will the high and mighty, Honourable Jesse of Draganisia choose next?”

Carolinia was more than eager to put a bullet into the General’s skull.

…

“The Trutinian Navy has entered the straits. The positions on the broken isthmus have fallen. They’ve entered the sea and approach King’s Isle. Where our ships are currently at.”

The entirety of the world’s fate was dependent on their unwillingness to yield to the enemy. The impending siege was only just the beginning of what would be the most climactic battle of the war. For Rowandale’s sake. For St Abbaddon’s glory.

Eliezer saw the look the Admiral Maya “Tau” Burton gave. “You don’t believe the navy will hold.”

“They’re more sophisticated than us in every way. It’s all their stockpiled weapons and forces that weren’t present at the invasion of Kryptania.” Maya looked through the map holograms from within the cavern. A courtesy of technology they’d successfully scraped from the allies ships they’d lost. “It’s all their colonial and overseas forces. Hardened naval units. Good captains too. As much as I could tell we don’t stand for much to gain in holding them at King’s Isle.”

“The navy has nowhere to go. You know that.”

“We must make sacrifices. I… I don’t know. My father refuses to answer. Word grows that they are more standstill. Our recon units have failed to contact him… I. I will go to King’s Isle. At the very least I can buy us some more time before the Trutinian naval bombardment begins.”

She left the room, the Admiral Tau.

Eliezer only looked at the hologram of war with
mired thoughts.

…

“Whole platoon, climbing up, 4 o’clock!”

“I got a company with armor coming in from the northside! Hold on. Hold it together men. Keep the peace in your mind and hands.” A captain continued bellowing orders towards his men.

Henry followed forth. Pop shotting at Leuthenist, Trutinian. Whomever was trying to scale the quarry. They were moments from now soon to have new functioning C-RAM and howizter systems on top. All other systems had been bombed by Trutinian strike fighters in a campaign of attrition.

“I got one!” Henry called forth. “A colonel amongst their ranks.” Whoever it was Henry could not know. But when the corpse fell down into the sea below dozens of soldiers recoiled back in horror.

Each and every wave that was coming. Each swarm of men. They were losing more and more. Their Humvees running out of fuel. The mechanics running out of time to make repairs. It was attrition this siege. One of the most difficult parts of war was knowing when to quit. And here, would it even be possible to quit?

All this. All this has happened because of the refusal of the few to change the way of their actions or beliefs. Eliezer… his future brother-in-law. Let Leuthen live. THE LEUTHEN. He had a shot. And he did not take it. A tale that Raquelin corroborated honestly. Although Henry knew she felt shame in doing so.

“Mercs. Southside!” Light signals flickrrrd from across the quarry hollow. There were more men scaling from the south. “It’s the Foreign Legion. Go! Go!” Henry waved his hand forward. Dashing with the Steel Wolves towards the south.

And indeed they were the Legionnairrs of Zed. The Foreign Corps led by the Commander Gelina.

“Open fire!”

But every time they did.

Trutinian armor was building up immensely. With their tanks taking the vanguard of the Anarchians. They proved themselves as capable of being threats as their Anarchian counterparts. Their gunfire was so intense and fast for one single tank. With the others collectively they could sweep entire ridges with their rounds.

Every hour. Every minute. The bells of death tolled for the lost.

…

Zed had told her the legends. Of how this country had come to be. Arisen by the hand of King Abbaddon. Whose same hand would be to turn against the world… Or at least that is what is told. That the Heroes were infaillible in their task. Their actions were of the good will that existed in humanity. That they could possess what Zed called the Mantle of Responsibility over all sentience. Except he says, they violated such course. And the consequences of their actions permeate into the world of St Abbaddon to this very day.

Willow Vinski kept her gaze above. Not to the sky but to the men firing from above her. Failing to perch their rifles on the rough stony walls of the quarry. She was able to climb. Putting every ounce of strength and being to each lift. She could do it, she said. She could.

…

“The hollow is being overwhelmed. I repeat!!”

The Leuthenists and Trutinians were now figthting their way inside. The sound of gunfire turn to brawls and grunts and those that ran out of munitions did what they had to do.

To buy their fellow soldiers time.

The caverns with the wounded and with ailments needed to get out first. So they held their ground. Going behind tents. Attaching C4s onto Anarchian Strykers and Trutinian Challenger tanks. They would not let them take them down witho it a fight.

Henry used all his experience. In command. In the art of subterfuge. Throwing knives and laying down IEDs. But they kept pouring through. And the banners of red and black only grew larger every moment. This was their curse.

…
(Jes stuff)

The ritual, Leuthen’s forces break through and Leuthen arrives at the tomb to begin the ritual using Helena.

Note: Eliezer, Carolina, Jesse and friends, and Henry (though cold to Eliezer) would be present there. Likely when Jesse has begun brawling Leuthen and Zed.

…

It was now or never.

She saw their gazes. The one she had seen before. Whom she’d been ordered to see eliminated.

The Steel Wolf.

And she would not fail the task again.

And whomever that other one was. A girl cloaked in animal hides.

Willow took her knives out. Whoosh!

…

The Commander Gelina emerged from behind. To the front. To the sides. In mere seconds she could be in one spot then the other. Carolinia found it to be… Gladky predictable.

Eliezer kept hold of his rifle. But realizing he could hear each time this traitor teleported. He shifted to his pistol instantly. Keeping a firm grip. Waiting for a moment to strikes and keeping distance from this Willow Vinski.

It was at that moment he felt knocked aside. That all the air went out from him. As he turned up he saw a baton in the traitors hand.

“For Trutinia. Forgive me mother. Oceania will become a new.”

Carolinia took the lead.

…

The waxed string closed in around her sarcophagus. Carolinia pulled hard. Keeping the Commander Gelina—truly Willow Vinski—on her knees.

The Commander pushed and pulled… And then agains. She teleported away. But like usual her spot was close. They threw fists at her. Catching a few. Eliezer lent a few blows throwing her down.

Steel Wolves caught wind of the fighting and soon this Vinski found herself pinned. Awaiting…

…

She didn’t know. She couldn’t see.

The bruises on her face. The growing pains. She saw the ritual. What Zed was doing. What he truly planned. And here she fought against these two people who were fighting to protect their homes and their country’s wellbeing’s. Perhaps believing there was something good left behind there.

When she saw Zeds heartlessness at the tomb. His gaze looking at her unapprovingly. Maybe this wasn’t the path she should’ve treaded on. All these deaths. It was a cycle.

And it was always hard to break cycles…

…

Jesse was slammed hard with the hammer. Leuthen spun it with ease. Like a staff. Showint every element of martial prowess he still had. Even in age.

“There’s the General Commander, go go!”

Each time he still managed to keep his distance from the squadrons of soldiers hunting him down. The Anarchians behind him fell but not himself.

It was this brawl. This attempt to secure his prize that led him into his final stand eventually.

Whatever happened next. Would decide everything.

…

[saving for a future short story post, when I come back. How Leuthen died.]

Then the sirens ran out. The huntress of animal skins was befelled. There and then the corpses of the two were found immobile near the ground. Jesse didn’t know what to say. Nor Gladius. Nor anyone else.

And in that madness.

Zed screamed.

…

—- Epilogue —-

Endember 19, 2029 — Eliezer

Leuthen stood his ground. A warrior of renown. Using everything he had against us. Arms, his hammer, his genius. The siege nearly tore us apart. Nearly killed us all. Even when they found him dead. And Carolinia not long after… They had the advantage. Even in Zed’s madness. Even that.

But Bahamut had fortune on us. Maybe. For sure it wasn’t what some hoped for.

Behind the lines. In the shadows of conspiracy and quiet politics. Schlappi and Edmund Burtons forces emerged from the woods. Clashing with the Trutinians in the rear. Subduing their divisions. Raising the Oceanic banners. But some call that the beginning of something far more awful.

It was that moment of peace of tranquility that saw everything change. Leuthen gone. Zed mad. Willow Vinski uncovered by the soldiers and their realization for who they had fought against.

Why then cut off this part of the story? Why not write it more.

Because the details remain clouded even to I. Because what came after… Was far more dramatic than the battle itself of Kings Fall. Like the Heroes. We may have been blinded by our own ambitions. Not expecting Mother Nature to take it's course.

And what a great disaster it was.

And so began the era of our interim. One where the worlds nations were little more than rumps of their former selves. The conflicts of resources.

The conspiracies of the few.

Long live St Abbaddon!

——

Upon Draganisia’s and Sera’s posts. Hereby ends Book 4: A Light in the Darkness from my end. Not exactly how I wanted to write it but business and time constraints got to me.

Leave of absence until January 9th. Until then 👋