August 16, 9 ATC

Fort Bombus, Province of Hiven, Oligarchy of Bumblebee

Zissman dodged a series of swings from Austin, then continued moving, bouncing on his forefeet, in anticipation of her next attack. Austin stepped back, steadied herself, and considered tactics, keeping her focus on Zissman.

"Quick little bastard, aren't you?" she said.

"I'll cut out your tongue for that remark," Zissman said. "But the same could be said of you."

"Oh, I'm sorry, your highness," Austin taunted. "Your majesty. Oh, mighty stick-up-the-ass. Have I not been showing you the respect you deserve? I'll be sure to honor you as I put you in the ground."

"Brat," Zissman said. "I'll teach you respect."

"I'm all ears, teacher."

Zissman approached at an angle, moving around Austin at the same time he moved toward her in an attempt to reach her side. Austin rotated to stay facing him as Zissman circled, looking for a hole in her defense, an opening to strike. Austin kept her eyes on him, and after a few rotations, seized initiative and swung at Zissman's sword hand.

Zissman reacted in the nick of time, pulling back and staying back without being hit. He wiped some sweat from his brow.

"You'll need to do better than that," Austin said. "You can't surround me if there's just one of you."

"You'll need to keep your mouth shut," Zissman said.

"But how can you cut out my tongue if I keep my mouth shut?"

"Petulant—" Zissman took a breath. "I won't let you goad me into a reckless attack. If all else fails, I can wait for backup."

"And what makes you so sure backup is coming?" Austin asked. "I could say the same, with more confidence. As soon as my friends get here, we'll make short work of you."

Zissman scoffed. "They'll never breach our defenses. You of all people should know that we are prepared to deal with any infiltration."

"And yet, here I am," Austin said.

They stood in silence, sharing a hateful look.

"Suppose it will be just the two of us," Austin said. "Who do you think will last longer? Who has the greater endurance?"

Zissman didn't answer.

"Do you think it'll be the man who spends his days standing at the pulpit? Or will it be the woman who's been running for as long as she can remember?"

"That's a poetic way of underestimating me," Zissman said.

"I suppose it's in my blood," Austin said. "The poetry, that is. Maybe I also inherited a tendency toward killing tyrants."

"You mean your father?" Zissman said. Austin did not respond, but he laughed anyway. "Oh, yes, I know who he was. And I must say, you did a remarkably poor job hiding your connection with him, if that's what you were going for. But it doesn't matter. You'll die here, just like the rest of your pathetic League. And you'll have no one to fight your battle for you."

"Well, that's the thing," Austin said. "I've never leaned too heavily on my ancestry. I've always tried to make my own legacy."

"A series of back-stabbings and military defeats, separated by the occasional fluky victory," Zissman remarked. "Some legacy you'll leave."

"I'm not done yet," Austin said. "Now, are you going to stand there, or are you going to attack? Clock's ticking."

"I'm well aware."

They had circled back to roughly the positions they'd started in: facing each other, Zissman in front of his throne and Austin halfway between the throne and the door.

"Again, I'm happy to wait you out," Austin said. "You can try to deal with me, or with me and my comrades once they get here. I have faith in them. Your defenses will not hold."

"That's the fundamental flaw you all share," Zissman said. "You misplace your faith."

Austin heard the door to the throne room creak open behind her.

"Time's up!" she declared. She turned her head. "Good of you to join us…"

When she had fully turned around, Austin saw Anti Logic standing in the doorway.

Austin's face turned pale. A chill ran down her spine. The look on Anti's face was sharp enough to cut through steel, and hateful enough to kill. For the first time that day, Austin was visibly affected by her fear

"Anti," she gasped.

"Enough!" Anti said, barely a whisper, and she broke into a sprint straight at Austin. She lunged and thrust her knife toward Austin's neck. Austin barely managed to sidestep the attack. As Anti's momentum carried her past her target, Austin used her free hand to shove Anti in the back, throwing her off balance and sending her tumbling to the ground. Anti scrambled to her feet and turned, ready to break into another charge, when Zissman grabbed her by the shoulder. She snapped her head and looked at him, wide-eyed.

"Patience, Anti," he said. "We will kill her. With you here, we can make short work of it. But you must not let your feelings interfere with your sense. We must work together, carefully, to defeat her."

Zissman's soothing tone failed to break through Anti's shell. She remained visibly infuriated, and her breathing remained heavy. However, she nodded and relaxed ever so slightly. "Fine," she said. "You're right. Together."

"Good," Zissman said. He allowed himself a smile as he looked down at Austin. "The moment you promised has arrived! An ally appears to turn the tide. But not your ally. Not anymore."

Anti, too, looked down at Austin. "You threw that away," she said. "And I will make sure you pay for it."

Austin looked back and forth between Anti and Zissman. She took a step back, then another, distancing herself from them. For a second, she wondered if what she was feeling was the same as what Inferno had felt before her final duel. She gritted her teeth.

"I'm not done yet," she said.

"That will change in a minute," Anti said. She nodded at Zissman, and they approached Austin from opposite sides. This time, Austin had to deal with not one, but two circling opponents. A careful defense would no longer be enough. Retreat was not an option; she'd be cut down with her hand on the door. The choice was clear—attack, or be overwhelmed.

Austin rushed toward Zissman, sword gripped in both hands.

Zissman planted his feet and braced himself. Austin heavily swung at him. Zissman caught her blade with his own, parrying the attack. The steel collided with a loud, piercing ring. Austin, pushed back, moved with her momentum and spun into a low sweep at Zissman's legs. He pulled back, and she only caught the tip of his boot. As she tried to regain her footing, Austin looked toward Anti just in time to see Anti's fist rocketing toward her face.

Anti's strike connected with Austin's right eye, sending Austin staggering back. Austin blinked furiously, trying to get her distorted vision into focus. Three blurry Antis approaching her settled into one Anti, raising her knife for a slashing attack. Austin caught Anti's swing with her off hand, to which Anti responded with another punch to the eye, sending Austin reeling once again. With even greater difficulty, Austin tried to hold herself upright to defend against Anti.

Zissman saw an opening. He swung his sword toward Austin's right hand and connected with her wrist. His blade drove deep, cutting into the bone with a sickening, fleshy sound. Austin dropped her sword and screamed in pain.

"It's over," Zissman said.

Anti grabbed Austin by the neck. Holding Austin's throat for leverage, she delivered a knee to Austin's stomach, then pushed her back and down, slamming her into the ground. Austin, in horrible pain, struggled weakly against Anti's hold.

"It's over," Anti said.

Austin was overwhelmed by multiple pains: the throbbing in her already-swelling eye and the splitting agony of her fractured wrist. Pinned to the ground, she couldn't summon the strength to push back against Anti. Even she knew; it was over. She let her arms fall in defeat.

"I must say, I am relieved," Zissman said. "I might have been overwhelmed were it not for your help, Anti. You have served the Goddess well." He slowly moved his arm and pointed at Austin. "Now, I shall let you do the honors. Finish her, and put an end to—"

"Silence," Anti said.

Zissman stopped. "What?" he said. He was too shocked to be offended.

"I came to your rescue. I took her down. Now the rest is between me and her. So be silent, Zissman, and don't interrupt me."

Zissman recovered enough of himself to be angry. "We don't have time for this!" he said.

"I'm making time," Anti said. She glowered at Zissman, warning him with her eyes not to argue further. After a few seconds, Zissman relented.

"So be it," he said. "I leave it to you."

Anti looked down at Austin, who she still held down by her neck. She noticed Austin's eyes were moist and red.

"Crying, now?" Anti said. "You have no right to cry."

Austin shut her eyes and turned her head away.

"Did Faker cry?" Anti asked. "When he was dying at your feet, did he break down in tears?"

Austin said nothing. Anti stood upright, lifter her foot over Austin's stomach, and stomped down.

"That wasn't rhetorical," Anti said. "Answer me!"

Austin's voice was weak. "He didn't," she said. "It was too fast."

"Do you think, if it had taken longer, he would have wept before his enemies?"

When Austin failed to answer immediately, Anti again stomped on her stomach, drawing a pained groan and coughing.

"No, he wouldn't have," Austin said.

"That's right," Anti said. "He was stronger than you. His will was stronger. His mind was stronger. Before I let you die, I want to be sure you understand a few things. You are weak. Weak-willed, and weak-minded. You don't deserve the trust others put in you. You never deserved the trust I gave you."

As she said this, Anti knelt down and slapped Austin across the face with her open palm. Austin did nothing to resist. Not satisfied with the force of just one, Anti repeatedly slapped Austin, back and forth across the face, until both sides were battered red. When she was finished, she kept talking.

"Is this how you thought it would end?" Anti asked. "Was this the noble death you envisioned for yourself?" Austin hesitated, and fell victim to another slap.

"I hadn't thought much about that," Austin said.

"No, of course you didn't," Anti said. "You thought you'd get to play the hero again. Leave here with your allies singing your praises. You could let yourself mistake their manipulating your ego for real respect. That's the dream you killed Faker for, right?"

"Not true," Austin breathed.

"What was that?" Anti asked, striking Austin once again to punctuate her question. "You'll need to speak up."

"You're wrong!" Austin said, with pain evident in her voice. She summoned the willpower to open her eyes and glare up at Anti. "My friendships are real. Nitesco, Gwydion, even Zealander and Opifexa, they all care about me, as much as I do for them. You want to know why I killed Faker? Why I would have gladly killed you? Because I was always, always, fighting for them. They're what matter to me. Not the power, or the war. Them."

Anti absorbed Austin's words for a second, then struck her again.

"That's it? That's all you have to say? You killed Faker, turned against me, for who—Nitesco? That's laughable. Pitiful. And Ironic." Anti laughed a forced, bitter laugh.

"What do you mean?" Austin said.

"Nitesco is dead," Anti said. "I killed him myself."

Austin froze. Though her body was in a whirlwind of pain, she could still feel herself getting lightheaded. "No," she said.

"In the end, he was as mortal as the rest of us. He bled like a pig, then died like one," Anti said. "So much for your unbreakable bond."

"It's not true," Austin whimpered. "It can't be true."

"That's funny," Anti said. "That's exactly what I thought, when I heard you and Faker had died."

Anti raised her open hand yet again. Knowing what was coming, Austin winced. As Anti delivered five blows in a steady rhythm, she shouted:

"Isn't. That. Just. So. Funny?"

Austin began sobbing. Slow, uncontrollable sobs. "Please," she said. "If you're going to kill me, just… get it over with."

Anti laughed again. "'If,' you said. Ridiculous. I'll kill you, don't worry. But first, I said I would make you pay."

Austin watched with blurry vision as Anti took her knife and held it over Austin's face, pointed directly at her right eye. Realizing what was about to happen, Austin had no words. She just shook her head. No, no, no. Her silent plea went ignored.

Anti wound up, then slashed—

"My men," Opifexa hissed. Her heart thundered in her chest, but she tried to project bravery. Coronam frantically stuffed another key into the lock. "What did you do to them?"

"Why do you think I'm covered in blood?" he asked. Beneath his mask, Opifexa could tell he was smiling. She bristled with hate.

"You monster," she said. Draco chuckled.

"Trying to free these two, I see," he said. "Too bad. We didn't even have time to lash them today." He pointed his scimitar at Opifexa. "But I guess you'll do."

Opifexa didn't have a chance to respond before Draco was upon her. He swung quickly and recklessly, disturbingly quick for a man in such heavy armor. Opifexa instantly shifted into a defensive position, deflecting the strike with surprising skill. Draco growled.

"I thought you'd be a pushover," Draco said. "Like the guys upstairs."

"Sorry to disappoint you!" Opifexa yelled. She lunged at Draco's neck, but he knocked her aside.

"It's okay," he said. "The tougher the opponent, the more favor I win with the Goddess."

Opifexa backed up and studied her opponent. He never swung with his left hand. He only used the right hand, the one holding the scimitar. She readied herself to strike.

"And what if you lose?" she asked, punctuating her question with a feint towards his left hand. Draco moved to block it, but Opifexa reared back and struck again, this time at his right hand. In a single swipe, she slashed Draco's right hand, mangling several fingers and causing him to scream and drop his scimitar. He reared back and hissed in pain.

"I won't," he grunted. Opifexa thrusted again, but this time Draco caught it, wrapping his arm around the blade and hugging it to his side before he yanked Opifexa toward him. She stumbled forward, and Draco grabbed her by the hair before swinging her into the wall. Opifexa screamed and collapsed to the ground.

"Draco!" Coronam yelled. He finally got the right key, unlocking his cell door. As he stepped out, he threw it to Kazehh, who began wriggling to unlock his as well. "Stop this, now!"

"It's a bit late for that, Coronam," Draco said. He grabbed a dazed Opifexa by the collar, scooping her up and holding her over his head. "I don't take prisoners. I just beat them."

"Your fight's with me, not her!" he yelled. Kazehh opened his cell door and stood behind Coronam. "Put her down."

"Oh, I'll put her down all right!" Draco said. He hoisted Opifexa a little further over his head before bringing her down into his knee. Opifexa screeched in pain, hearing a sickening crack before she fell, unconscious, to the floor.

Kazehh and Coronam studied the battlefield, seeing if they had any advantages. Opifexa was up against a wall, breathing shallowly. She could be an obstacle. Draco had dropped his scimitar, but he made no attempt to pick it up. He was focused on them.

"Scum," he sneered. "You think that now you're outside your prison cells, that'll stop me from beating you down? Not a chance."

"You're welcome to try," Kazehh said. Coronam stared hatefully at Draco, but neither moved to attack.

"Ever so clever," Draco said. "I think I'll take your tongue out before I throw you—"

Coronam interrupted him, running forward and hoisting him up at the waist. Draco was slammed into the floor, but Coronam was not strong enough to keep him pinned. Draco knocked him off and staggered to his feet.

"Alright, Coronam," he said. "You made your point. Now—" he delivered a brutal blow to Coronam's jaw. "Stay down."

Kazehh charged Draco, and the situation devolved into a fistfight. Kazehh unleashed a flurry of jabs at Draco, not doing much damage against his armor, but harassing him enough for Coronam to get a few heavy hits it. Draco was more agile than he appeared: he unleashed kicks and punches with unexpected speed.

Coronam and Kazehh were out of practice, and felt their stamina running out quickly. Kazehh feinted at Draco's eyes, then at his groin, but he was too slow. Draco grabbed him by the wrist and twisted his wrist.

"Pathetic!" Draco cried. Coronam delivered a strong blow to his helmet, eliciting a loud thump. Draco let go of Kazehh, and he darted away, while Coronam continued his assault on Draco.

"What kind of a sadist are you?" Coronam asked. Draco deflected a punch to the gut. Draco weathered a punch to the shoulder was weathered.

"What kind of a monster is under that helm?" Coronam said.

"Stop trying to be poetic," Draco yelled. He caught Coronam's punch and slammed him into the bars of a cell. "I only serve my queen."

"I thought you served the Goddess," Coronam said. Draco scowled beneath his helmet.

"What difference does it make?" he asked. Distracted, Kazehh crept up behind him and put him in a Full Nelson, prying him off of Coronam. Coronam delivered a strong punch to Draco's gut, and Draco slammed into the wall behind him, causing Kazehh to wince.

Coronam pressed the attack, striking Draco fiercely while he was still immobilized. Finally, Draco wrenched Kazehh off him, throwing him in an open empty cell before turning back to Coronam. Coronam knocked him back against the wall, beating him savagely, and Draco desperately tried to fend him off.

"Back, back!" Draco commanded. He got in a lucky jab to Coronam's nose, which loosened his hold enough to wrench free. Coronam came back after him, but Draco took off his helmet and threw it at him, giving him enough time to execute a swift uppercut that knocked Coronam out cold.

Kazehh staggered out of the open cell door and was surprised to see Jay staring back at him. His expression of anger turned to one of shock.

"Jay?" he asked. Draco cocked his head.

"Are you talking to me?" he said. Kazehh's shock turned to horror as he realized what the Church had done to him.

"You don't remember?" Kazehh asked. "You're Jay. Queen Inferno's royal guard." Draco's eyes widened a little bit, but he stayed in an aggressive position.

"Jay, huh?" He twisted the name in his mouth, tasting it for truth, and found that it rang true. "That sounds about right."

"It's yours," Kazehh said. He loosened his posture, trying to appear non-threatening. "You used to be—"

Draco lunged at him, grabbing at his throat, and Kazehh backpedaled. He resumed a fighting stance.

"Just because you told me that doesn't give you a free pass," Draco growled.

"So you still want to be their puppet?" Kazehh yelled. This wasn't just for survival anymore. This was personal. Draco had killed Jelo, maybe Opifexa, and he had hurt Coronam. And he did it all willingly.

"I follow my goddess," Draco said.

"Your queen, you mean?" Kazehh said. Draco spat.

"Shut up!" he yelled, and he clobbered Kazehh. Kazehh's nose was broken by now, it had to be, but he kept jabbing and swinging and dodging all the punches he could. The scimitar was on the ground, just behind Draco. Draco didn't seem to notice.

"Do you remember them, 'Draco'?" Kazehh hissed. He tried circling around Draco, but Draco remained still. "All the people you killed? All the people you hurt? And it's not even because you're a brainwashed flunky. It's because you want to! You enjoy it, don't you?"

"I don't enjoy it because they suffer," Draco said. He advanced menacingly. "I enjoy it because I know my goddess is pleased by it. I was nothing before Zissman came to me. Now, I am a tool of the divine. He gave me purpose. Even if I could remember, I wouldn't go back."

"You twisted fuck!" Kazehh finally lost his temper, stepping forward to batter Draco. "I know you remember them. I hope it makes you miserable!"

Draco backhanded him and pushed him back. "You're thinking about your friend, aren't you?" Draco laughed. "I remember him. I remember him from before."

Kazehh moved to strike, but Draco grabbed him by the throat and kneed him in the chest. They toppled onto the ground, and Draco began strangling him.

"I could only ever remember the queen," he said. "My lady. She seemed so regal, so graceful. I thought she was the Goddess, at first. But then I remembered your friend. Jelo, right?"

Kazehh struggled against Draco, but the man was far too strong, and Kazehh had languished too long in captivity. Draco spat on him and tightened his grip.

"Ah, yes. Jelo. When I saw him at Guns N' Roses… I couldn't quite place my finger on why I hated him, but I knew I did. I wanted revenge. When I killed him, it was immensely gratifying. And now I know why. I remember him standing over me, watching as I lost consciousness. He killed me, Kazehh. And I killed him."

Kazehh's vision began to fade. Too soon, too soon….

"When you get to hell, tell him I say hello," Draco sneered. Suddenly, he heard a groan. He looked up and saw that Coronam had awoken, and he was struggling to his feet.

"No!" Draco cried. His grip loosened, just for a second. It was all Kazehh needed.

Kazehh broke free of Draco's grip, throwing him back. Instead of leaning in to press the advantage, he lunged for the scimitar, still sitting on the ground. Draco realized what he was doing, and he grabbed Kazehh's ankle and yanked his leg out from under him.

"Nice try, whelp," Draco said. "I'll make it quick, how's that?"

"You won't get the chance," Kazehh said. His fingers found the hilt. He grabbed the scimitar and, with all his force, swung it down into Draco's shoulder.

Draco screeched and fell backward, the blade coming out as he did so. Kazehh stood and walked slowly toward Draco.

"That was for Jelo," he said. Draco tried to pull himself up on the bars of a cell, but Kazehh slammed the blade into his hip, and he fell right back down with a loud yelp.

"That was for Opifexa," Kazehh said. Draco tried to crawl away, inching into an open cell, desperately trying to put distance between him and Kazehh. It was no use. Kazehh let him crawl into a cell, then skewered him in the knee to stop him from going any further.

"That was for Coronam," Kazehh said. He tossed the scimitar through the open door and kneeled on Draco's chest. Draco looked up at him in fear and in hatred. Kazehh rolled up the sleeves of his tunic.

"And this," he said, punching Draco in the face. "This is for every good man and woman you've ruined!" Kazehh bellowed a war cry, a cry of anger and pent-up rage, and he began beating Draco. Punch after punch rained down on Draco, beating him until his face was bruised and bloody. Draco began whimpering, crying softly, and Kazehh stopped. He was more surprised than anything to see him cry.

"My lady," he whimpered. "My lady, please forgive me. I'm sorry I failed you, I'm so sorry. Forgive me, I beg of you. My lady, my lady…"

Kazehh's heart sank, and he realized that he had been beating a defenseless man senseless, just like Draco had done.

"I'm not you," he spat. He stood and left the cell, finding Coronam crouched next to Opifexa. She was awake now, and breathing heavily. Hurt, but alive.

"Opifexa," Coronam said. He cradled her head. "Are you alright?"

"I can't… I can't feel my legs," she said. "They won't move."

"That's okay," Coronam whispered. "I'll carry you." He scooped her up and began walking toward the exit, stopping to look at Draco lying in his cell, still blubbering to his imaginary mistress.

"Are you going to kill him?" Coronam asked. Kazehh picked up the scimitar. His rage boiled within him, but when he looked on Draco, on what a pathetic thing he had been reduced to, he sighed.

"No," Kazehh said. He closed the door to the cell, locking Draco in. "If he dies, he dies. If he lives… I hope he's learned a lesson. But I won't stoop to his level. I won't be like him."

Coronam nodded. "Are the stables nearby?"

"They should be," Kazehh said. He cast one last glance at Draco before looking away. "Come on. Let's get out of here."

As they left the prison, Kazehh could still hear Draco as they went up the stairs. He listened to his cries, his whimpers of 'my lady, my lady,' and hoped he had made the right choice.

Nitesco moved at a fast walk, trying to keep a balance between preserving energy and making haste. After taking a few minutes to gather his strength, he'd taken off in the direction Anti had gone. To him, though, the fort was a labyrinth. He traversed the unfamiliar hallways, ducking around corners to avoid the occasional patrol, and looking for any indicator of where Austin, Zissman, and—probably, thanks to him—Anti could be. After roughly ten minutes of roaming, he rounded a corner and caught sight of an iron door with a dead Church guard on either side. Believing he'd found the right place, Nitesco hurriedly stalked toward the door.

Then he heard Austin scream. Adrenaline kicked in instantly, and Nitesco broke into a sprint for the door. He ground to a stop in front if it, lifted his metal, foot, kicked the door wide open, and ran in.

He observed the scene in slow motion. Anti standing over Austin holding her bloody red knife, and Zissman across the room standing with his arms folded. Both jumped at his entrance and faced him, hastily readying themselves. Wasting no time, Nitesco charged toward Anti at full speed. She didn't have time to set herself before he rammed into her with the full weight of his body, knocking her to the floor. He lifted his sword and faced Zissman, deterring him from approaching.

"Austin!" Nitesco called over his shoulder. "Get Anti! Quickly!"

Austin heard Nitesco's voice, and her body moved before her mind knew what it was doing. Her nerves caught fire as she rolled onto her stomach, then onto her knees. Though she could hardly see anything with her blurred red vision, she heard the sound of Anti groaning, and lunged toward it, reaching to grab something, any part of her. She closed her fist around a handful of hair. The rest was instinctive violence. She pulled Anti's head by the hair up from the ground, then with a grunt, slammed her into the hard stone floor. She repeated this several times, until Anti's struggling movements and groans ceased, and she lay limp with Austin on top of her.

Blood dripped from Austin's wounded face onto Anti's unconscious face. Zissman, kept at bay be Nitesco at sword length, could do nothing but watch.

"Are you alright, Austin?" Nitesco asked.

"I'm alive," she said. Her voice shook as she spoke. "But I'm far, far from alright."

"Can you stand?" he asked.

"I can try," she replied. She sucked in a deep breath and pushed herself up, struggling to keep her balance. "I'm coming to stand next to you," she announced.

"Okay," Nitesco said, keeping his eyes trained on Zissman. Zissman simply scowled in silence. Austin took slow steps toward him. One, pause. Two, pause. When she was finally at his side, Nitesco looked at her face and gasped in horror.

The bruises and swelling were heavy and ugly, but they were far from the worst part. Austin's right eye—or where it was supposed to be—was covered in a sea of blood, deep crimson red. The blood kept flowing from the spot, trailing down her cheek like dark tears, with the occasional drop dripping and splashing on the floor.

"God. Austin, your eye."

"Hurts like hell," Austin said. "Is it bad?"

Nitesco nodded slowly. "Very bad."

"Good thing I have two, then," she said. With her left arm she wiped the blood, sweat, and dirt from around her left eye, then opened it wide, getting a clear look at Nitesco for the first time since he'd entered.

"You're looking alright, at least," she offered. "I'm glad you made it." She looked at Zissman. "Let's finish this. Where's my sword?"

"No, I've changed my mind," Nitesco said. "You're in no condition to continue. I can handle him myself. Stay back."

"You're in no condition to face him alone," Austin said. "You're fine, but not pristine. We can't take any risks. You need me. I'm hurting, but I can still fight. Where is my sword?"

"Austin—" Nitesco started to protest again.

"There," Austin said, ignoring him and walking over to where her sword lay, a few feet from Anti. She reached out with her right hand, then, wincing from the pain in her wrist from Zissman's earlier strike, she pulled back and grabbed her weapon with her left hand instead. As she picked it up, she looked down at Anti for a second, lying unconscious and defenseless, but breathing shallowly. She hesitated. Then she left her and walked back to Nitesco, taking position on his left this time.

"Using your left hand?" Nitesco said. "Are you sure about this?"

"Right now, the entire right side of my body is damaged," Austin said. "The best I can do is fall back on my left. I've still got one good eye and one good arm, so I'll use them."

Nitesco looked at her in wonder. "You never cease to remind me of the best people in my life," he said.

"Enough!" Zissman shouted. Austin and Nitesco raised their weapons and braced for combat.

"You both have some nerve," he continued, "barging in and then acting like I'm not even here. You think this is a game? That you can take a break to catch up and chat? You have greater concerns!"

"My chief concern right now is Austin's safety," Nitesco said. "Killing you is a very close second."

"Your pet still lives, but rest assured she won't last much longer." Zissman pulled his arms in and took a closed, seemingly defensive stance. "You will both die, now."

"Your words say one thing, but your body says another," Austin said. "Even now I can see through you. We have you outnumbered. Give up, and I promise we'll make it quick."

"Yes, outnumbered by two cripples," Zissman said. "I'm shaking in my boots, truly."

"These two cripples just made short work of Anti," Nitesco said.

"Foolish girl. I told her to get it over with, but she had to fuel her petty desire for vengeance. Now she's left me with the dirty work."

Austin said to Nitesco, "I'll approach from the left. We get him from both sides, he can't counter us."

"I didn't want it to come to this," Zissman said, "But I know that even in these dire straits, the Goddess will protect me. I've studied, I've planned, and today I have come prepared."

"What are you saying?" Nitesco said.

Zissman reached into the right sleeve of his robe with his free hand. There was a faint click of something being unbuckled. When Zissman pulled his hand back out, he held in it a small black bottle with an ornate handle serving as the lid. He held the bottle before him and looked down at it, mouthing a silent prayer.

"What's that supposed to be?" Austin asked. "Holy water?"

Zissman chuckled. "In a sense."

He dropped his sword to the ground and grabbed the handle. Tilting the bottle sideways, he twisted and pulled, separating the two parts. The handle was revealed to be connected to a blade; a dagger crafted to use the bottle as a sheathe. The blade was completely coated in a viscous dark green liquid. He dropped the bottle to the ground and moved the dagger, getting a sense of its weight in his hand.

"Shit!" Nitesco said.

"What is it?" Austin asked.

"Poison!"

Zissman smirked. "Ever the sharp one, Nitesco! But I suppose you'd know a lot about poison, wouldn't you?" Over Nitesco's angry growl, Zissman went on. "It's called the Sinner's Sleep. Oh, it's not going to kill you. Not right away. It works slowly. It numbs the limbs, slows them, paralyzes them. And eventually, you fall into a deep, never-ending sleep. There's plenty on this blade for the both of you. Admittedly, plenty for me, too, if I'm not cautious. That's why I kept it as a last resort. But the Goddess is telling me that now is not the time to hold back. I will be brave and use every means available to finish this."

Nitesco shook his head. "You carry a poison dagger and call yourself brave. You could make yourself believe anything, couldn't you?"

The levity left Zissman's face as his expression turned to a cold, steely mask. He started walking forward.

"Be careful," Nitesco warned Austin. "Don't let him touch you with that thing, no matter what."

"I should be telling you that," Austin said. "Stay alive, Nitesco."

"That was my plan."

"I mean, don't put yourself at risk for my sake. It's not okay to die for me. Got it?"

Nitesco nodded. "You'd better not get any ideas like that, either."

Zissman stepped within five meters of both Austin and Nitesco, ready to strike at both of them.

"Time's up," Austin said. She and Nitesco moved simultaneously.

Zissman's head was on a swivel, watching both Austin and Nitesco at all times and timing his movement just right to avoid their stabs and swings. At the same time, as he moved, he tried to get within striking distance of either of his opponents. The task proved difficult due to the shortness of his weapon. He couldn't match Austin or Nitesco in reach, so he had to look for a chance to exploit one of their weaknesses. As Austin missed yet another attack, he found that chance. He lunged for her right shoulder, seeking to pierce it with the dagger. Austin, carried by the momentum of her missed swing, had nowhere to go. Nowhere, except down. She bent her knees, and let gravity pull her to the floor, falling just under Zissman's dagger.

Having missed with his weapon, Zissman opted to use his arm. He drove his elbow into Austin's bloody right eye region. Austin screamed and instinctively raised her right hand to cover the pain. Instead of trying to capitalize, Zissman turned around, just in time to see Nitesco swinging at him. He dodged again and prepared to attempt another stab.

He felt two hands wrap around his ankle and pull.

Austin, with all the willpower she could muster, used both her left hand and injured right hand to pull Zissman's right ankle toward her, throwing off his balance. Before Zissman could react, Nitesco grabbed hold of Zissman's right arm—the dagger arm—and held it in place.

"Useless!" Zissman hissed. He punched Nitesco with his left hand. Nitesco held firm, keeping a tight grip on Zissman's arm. Zissman, in turn, held his dagger as tightly as he could. Zissman kept hitting Nitesco, trying to force him to relent.

Austin pulled herself to her feet, then seized Zissman's left arm by the wrist, stopping his punches. Zissman struggled against her grip, but neither she nor Nitesco would unhand him. Zissman turned his head and saw Austin's face. He saw the place where her right eye had been, a bloody, gory mess, and her left eye, a shining window, reflective enough for Zissman to see his own face in it—to see the fear written on his face.

Austin pulled her head back, then slammed her skull into Zissman's.

The headbutt was enough to make Zissman falter, just enough that Nitesco could get the leverage to twist his arm. Nitesco kept applying torque until Zissman could take no more; he dropped his dagger to the ground.

"Here, Nitesco!" Austin said. She pulled Zissman's arm around behind his back and passed it to Nitesco. Nitesco kept Zissman restrained by both arms. Try as he might, Zissman could not escape the hold.

Austin went to pick up the dagger Zissman had dropped. "What were your words earlier, Zissman?" she asked. "'It's over?'"

Zissman thrashed against Nitesco's grip, pulling madly. "You think this is where it ends?" he said. His confidence and superior air had all but disappeared. "You think you can defeat me? That you're better than me?!"

Austin took the dagger and stood in front of Zissman. "This is about more than you and me, Zissman." She held the dagger in a reverse grip. "What I do now, I do for everyone. Armed and Ready. Guns N' Roses. Renora. And all the others you've subjugated for your own gains. You claimed time and time again that you knew best. Argued that you could do better for them than they could for themselves. Preached that no matter how much you damaged them, they should trust you."

She lifted the dagger high into the air. Zissman followed it with his eyes. He saw its green poison shining like a lethal aurora in the torchlight.

"This," Austin proclaimed, "is their rebuttal!"

She plunged the dagger into Zissman's chest. Down and in. It carved through his clothing as easily as it carved through air, breached his ribcage, and sank into his body, getting buried all the way up to the hilt.

Zissman's mouth hung open, but he made no sound. He fell to his knees, no longer able to support his own weight. Nitesco lowered him down onto his back.

"Well said, Austin," Nitesco said. He allowed himself a smile of satisfaction. "We did it. We really did it."

Austin looked down at Zissman. "Let's not count our chickens just yet. I want to see him pass. Make sure there's no doubt."

"Fair enough," Nitesco said. "Let's hope it doesn't take too long."

Austin knelt down next to Zissman and examined his face. He was pale, sickly, and sweating a boatful. The poison was already doing its work.

"How fast-acting is this poison of yours?" she asked Zissman.

Zissman, struggling to focus on anything, looked at her with hazy eyes. "The poison," he said. "It's in me. It's in me."

"Yes," Austin said.

"I've been poisoned."

"You have."

"I'm dying."

"You are."

Zissman's eyes became vacant. He looked at Austin, yet at the same time was looking at nothing. He was silent for a moment. Then he said, "Did I stray?"

"What?" Austin said.

"Did I ever…stray from the righteous path?" Zissman asked. "That things could have gone this way…did I do something wrong?"

"Yes," Nitesco said. "Yes. Obviously, you did! Don't try to act like some innocent victim when you're the one who—"

"That's enough, Nitesco," Austin said. "There's no point."

Nitesco looked away.

"But…" Zissman stammered. "I did so much. Waited so long. Sacrificed so many lives…"

"Whatever is weighing on you is between you and your Goddess now, Zissman," Austin said.

Zissman let his eyes fall shut. "My Goddess," he said. "All of this, for her. And… I failed her…"

"Now you can go to her," Austin said, kneeling at his side. "You can be with her."

"But I'm not ready!" he protested. Austin shook her head.

"We rarely are," she said. Zissman rested his head on the floor, and despite himself, began to laugh. He raised a hand to the ceiling.

"How much did I give you?" he asked. "How long did I work for you? How much did I sacrifice for you? Just to die before our glory. Oh, what a waste…"

The last of his strength vanished, and his body went limp.

Austin rose from his side. "That's it, then," she said.

"You gave him better than he deserved," Nitesco said. "You remember what he did, right?"

"Even so, nobody deserves to die alone. Not even him."

Nitesco smiled and shook his head. "Just when I think I've got you figured out; you surprise me. Now, what do we do about her?" Nitesco looked over to where Anti lay. Then he said, "Oh. Her!"

Anti, having regained consciousness, saw Austin and Nitesco standing over Zissman's body. She gave them both the look of death.

Austin took a step backwards. "We need to go," she said.

"We're just leaving her here?" Nitesco asked.

"As long as we get Zissman and Jannis, the Church is done. We don't need to deal with her. But we have to regroup with the others, sooner rather than later." She leaned into Nitesco. "I can't handle another fight right now. Not with her. Please. Let's go."

Nitesco considered her words for a second, then nodded. "Alright. We need to get you treated. Let's get out of here."

Austin used Nitesco as a support as they went to the door. Anti watched them leave. She was left alone with her thoughts. Alone with consequences.

Gwydion and Vulpix fought together in the middle of the bloodbath. Soldiers all around them fought and screamed and killed each other. Together they wove through the chaos, picking off the ones that stood to face them, covering each other's weaknesses, until they stood before the breach.

Through the smoke and haze, they could see one man standing in the breach, fending off the League soldiers who attempted to rush past him, bellowing orders all the while. One attempted to run past him; the commander beheaded him with his massive longsword. Two others attempted to charge him directly. He bashed the first one aside with his shield and, after a brief engagement, slew the second. He stomped on the first one's neck, still prone on the ground, and looked up. He saw Vulpix and Gwydion, and his eyes widened.

"Jannis," Gwydion growled. Jannis smirked.

"Gwydion," he said. He turned to Vulpix. "Zealander. Such distinguished company. A shame your soldiers aren't held to the same standard."

"Fuck you, Jannis," Vulpix said. Jannis was taken aback.

"Such vulgarity," he said. His face went completely blank. "I will be sure to beat some respect into you before I kill you."

"You're welcome to try!" Gwydion shouted. With a yell, he charged Jannis. Jannis was quick to respond, putting up his shield just in time to block his attack. Vulpix was not slow to follow up, but Jannis knocked his saber away with his greatsword.

The dance continued: Vulpix and Gwydion attacked in tandem, trying to flank Jannis, but he was having none of it. Any attack was blocked or sidestepped. Though he was confidently holding his own, Jannis was not able to counterattack.

"Useless, useless!" Jannis taunted. Another one of Gwydion's attacks was sidestepped. "You have no hope. You're surrounded. Give up and I will treat you fairly."

Vulpix slashed, was knocked away, and steadied himself. "I was going to extend you the same offer."

"Not a chance," Jannis growled. "I won't surrender, to you least of all."

"Then die to us!" Gwydion exclaimed. He tried an overhead swing, but was rebuffed.

"Sloppy, sloppy," Jannis chided. "Such poor form."

"Is talk all you got?" Gwydion asked. He and Vulpix attacked at the same time. Jannis backpedaled, just barely dodging their swings, but it was enough. He whirled around, the tip of his sword catching Vulpix's cheek and tearing through it until it came out the mouth. Vulpix shouted and grabbed his cheek, which now bore a messy, bloody smile.

"Ask him," Jannis sneered. As Gwydion lunged at him, he kicked him in the stomach, sending him to the ground. As he tried to get back up, Jannis bludgeoned him in the nose with his shield, dazing him. He raised his sword to finish him off, but just as he plunged it down, Vulpix shoved his sword in the way. Jannis's sword went off at an angle, but he blocked Vulpix's followup.

"Fool," Jannis said. "You had the perfect opportunity to stab me in the back. And you gave it up to save this peasant."

"I don't regret it," Vulpix said. He traded a few more blows with Jannis. "He's my brother in arms. I'd gladly give up a chance at you to save him."

"And that's why you'll lose," Jannis said. "You don't know how to sacrifice!" He managed an overhead swing, coming down on Vulpix with enough force to knock his saber away. He then rammed his shield into Vulpix's face, then again, and again, sending him down like Gwydion.

A loud crack rang out, and the bullet flew into Jannis's shoulder blade, lodging itself between the armor and the skin. Jannis screamed in pain. Behind Jannis, Gwydion quickly loaded another shot into his hand cannon as Jannis regained his posture.

"You and your fucking tricks!" Jannis yelled. Gwydion went in for a hit, but underestimated Jannis's strength. Jannis clobbered him with the flat edge of his sword, causing Gwydion to stumble into a large ditch. As Jannis descended into the ditch, Vulpix regained consciousness.

In a concussed daze, he looked up and saw something moving through the fray of soldiers, something on horseback. Contramundi? Against all odds, not only had he survived the rout, he was carving a path toward them.

Vulpix stumbled to his feet, his head throbbing and his face aching. He had to move. The swarm of Church soldiers was being pushed back, yes, but that meant they were being pushed in his direction.

Vulpix saw Gwydion in the ditch, fighting Jannis. As he charged to the edge, Jannis caught Gwydion in the leg, causing Gwydion to yelp. Gwydion responded by thrusting at Jannis's face, catching his ear and sending Jannis back.

"Gwydion!" Vulpix called. "Contramundi is on his way!"

"No!" Jannis yelled. He turned to charge out of the ditch, but Gwydion swung at him, forcing him back.

"Get Nitesco!" Gwydion yelled back. "And the others! I'll keep this beast back!" Vulpix hesitated. He knew Gwydion wouldn't last forever against Jannis, but he also knew he wasn't good for a fight anymore. If Jannis rallied his defenders, they would be crushed. And if Nitesco and the others didn't make it out in time, then it was all for nothing.

"I will!" Vulpix yelled. He turned and ran into the fort, ignored by the other soldiers, while Gwydion did battle with Jannis.

After Austin and Nitesco had made their way into the courtyard, Austin asked to stop for a break.

"I know we're in a hurry," she said. "I need a moment. Just a moment."

"Okay," Nitesco said. "Probably a good idea. Let me see if I can cover up that wound."

Austin nodded and sat down. Nitesco used his sword to cut a strip of cloth from his shirt. "This may sting a bit," he said.

"It's just a bandage," Austin said. Yet as Nitesco wrapped the cloth over her eye and around her head, she hissed in pain.

"I know, I know," he said. "It's painful."

"Yeah."

"You should know that the eye is likely gone," Nitesco said.

"I figured as much," Austin said. "I understand, but I don't think it's really sunk in yet."

"I'm sorry this happened," Nitesco said. "I wish I had gotten there sooner. I might have been able to prevent this." Austin placed her left hand on his shoulder.

"It's okay, she said. "You got there in time to save me. I'm grateful. Besides, this is no more than I deserve."

Nitesco raised his eyebrows. "Deserve? What are you talking about?"

Austin's eye watered. "I'm still alive, after all I've done. I've taken so much. I had to lose something eventually."

"You mean, something had to go wrong sooner or later?"

"No. No, I mean something had to happen to me. Anti was right. I had to…pay. I'm a monster, aren't I? I'm horrible, aren't I? I'm a liar. A murderer. A selfish, foolish—"

Nitesco put his arms around Austin and pulled her into a tight hug.

"Stop it. Don't ever say those things about yourself."

Austin sniffled.

"You're more than the worst of yourself," Nitesco said. "Even if you've made mistakes, know that you're worthy of love. And know that you've made a lot of people very proud today."

Austin put her left arm around Nitesco and returned the hug, sobbing quietly.

"Easy, easy," Nitesco said. "You're okay. We won."

"It's not over yet," Austin said.

"It will be soon."

"Austin!" A voice rang out. Austin broke away from Nitesco, looked across the courtyard and saw… Kazehh?

Kazehh sprinted across the courtyard, nearly delirious. "Austin! My god!" He stopped in front of them, seeing her injury and shuddered. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine,"Austin lied. She looked over his shoulder and saw Coronam carrying Opifexa. "Opifexa!"

Austin and Nitesco rushed over to Coronam and Opifexa. Opifexa was still breathing, but winced in pain with every step Coronam took. As Austin and Nitesco approached, Coronam barely noticed them.

"Coronam!" Nitesco exclaimed. "How did you—"

"Draco came after us," Coronam explained. "Broke her back. Beat us senseless. But he's gone now." Coronam looked up and looked around. "The stables. Where are they?"

"There," Austin said, pointing at the deserted stables. Three horses remained, enough for the lot of them. They raced over and quickly let the horses out, saddling them in the courtyard as quickly as they could.

"Ah!" Opifexa winced as Coronam and Kazehh propped her up on the end of a horse. "Good god, that hurts!"

"I know," Coronam cooed, climbing into the saddle. "But it's all going to be over soon. Hold on tight."

Nitesco climbed into the saddle of the next horse, helping Austin up behind him. She grabbed onto him for dear life. Kazehh took the third horse as his own and steered it toward the breach.

"Now what do we do?" he asked. "It's chaos out there."

Nitesco grabbed the reins and steeled himself. "We'll find a way," he said. "There's always a way."

"Nitesco! Austin!" A voice cried out to them, and a man stumbled through the breach. Vulpix.

"Vulpix?" Austin asked. "What's going on out there?"

"Contramundi is making a path for our escape!" Vulpix wheezed. "But we must hurry! Gwydion. He's facing off against Jannis!"

"No!" Nitesco exclaimed. "We can't let that happen! He doesn't stand a chance!"

"Then we must hurry!" Vulpix said. They didn't have to be told twice. They galloped off, towards the breach, to save Gwydion.

Gwydion could feel his stamina slipping away. Jannis was getting more and more aggressive, getting more and more hits. A slice here, a jab there, but it was enough.

"Give up," Jannis said. His anger had simmered down, but it was still clear. "I know your strength is wavering. You know it too. Surrender!"

"No," Gwydion said. He yelled and swung at Jannis's leg, but was deflected. He stabbed at his chest. Blocked. He slashed at Jannis's face. Parried, and a shield blow to the shoulder for his efforts. Gwydion blocked another of Jannis's broad sweeps and ducked backwards.

"I just don't get it," Jannis said. "Why do you persist? You know you will die if you continue. Give in, and I promise to treat you with mercy."

Gwydion grit his teeth. His offer was tempting. His heart raced in his chest, his knees were weak… but he knew Nitesco was counting on him. Vulpix. Austin. All of them. If Jannis got back in the action, they were finished.

"Never!" he exclaimed. He swung at Jannis again, and managed to land. His sword clipped Jannis's stomach, eliciting a grunt, but Jannis hit Gwydion in the stomach with his shield in return. He fell backward, into the edge of the ditch, the wind knocked out of him.

"Are you not afraid to die?" Jannis asked. His face was impassive. Was he asking out of curiosity, or to taunt him?

"I'm terrified," Gwydion said, wheezing, "to die. I don't know what's there. I don't know what waits for me." He angled his sword at Jannis. "But I'm not unwilling to die. If it protects my friends, then I'll do it gladly."

"Bold words," Jannis said. "Can you live up to them?"

"I will," Gwydion said. He felt a deep pain in his stomach; Jannis' gut shot had caused internal bleeding. Nevertheless, he stood tall.

"We're the same, you and I," Gwydion said. "I know it. Both of us are willing to die for our cause, not because we are unafraid, but because duty calls us to do it. I trust you understand."

"I do," Jannis said. His face was cold now, and stoic, but his eyes betrayed some sympathy for him. "Better than any other. So from one warrior to another, I make my offer one last time: surrender, or die."

"I hope I won't die," Gwydion said. "But I'm sure as hell not going to surrender."

Jannis sighed and lifted his sword. "So be it."

Gwydion charged Jannis, angling his sword at his throat, and Jannis took the bait. He lifted his sword to deflect, and Gwydion backpedaled. He unholstered his hand cannon and fired at Jannis's heart.

Jannis blocked the shot.

"That trick," he said, observing where the pellet had embedded in his shield, "only works once."

Gwydion grit his teeth. "So be it."

He threw the hand cannon as hard as he could at Jannis, only for it to be knocked away by his shield. He descended on Jannis with abandon. He put all his force in every swing, hoping desperately that it would break his opponent's guard, but Jannis stood firm.

"I'm sorry, Gwydion," Jannis said. On Gwydion's last swing, he knocked the sword upward with his shield and stabbed. The blade fell into Gwydion's shoulder, causing him to scream and fall backwards, but he kept coming. Another strike, deflected. Jannis hit him in the thigh, and Gwydion toppled onto one knee. He tried to stab at Jannis's stomach, but Jannis brought his shield up into Gwydion's jaw, and he fell on his back. Finally, Gwydion tried one last swing to cut off Jannis's head. Jannis moved quicker, though, and in one swift movement, cut off Gwydion's right arm.

He shrieked as Jannis's sword passed through his elbow, and watched as his arm fell to the ground. Gwydion groaned in pain, numbed somewhat by adrenaline, and he felt a pressure on his chest. He looked up and saw Jannis pressing the point of his sword directly above his heart, and he steeled himself.

"So," Jannis asked, his face blank. "Was it worth it?"

Gwydion strained to turn his head to the side, toward the breach. Standing there, regal, despite his injuries, was Vulpix. Beside him were Kazehh, Coronam, Opifexa, Austin and Nitesco, sitting on horseback. They looked on helplessly, their faces contorted in fear and sorrow, but Gwydion knew they would be alright.

He turned back to Jannis, his face placid. "Yes," he whispered. Jannis smiled and raised his sword.

"Then you die a better death than most," he said. "Go to the Goddess."

As the sword plunged into his chest, Gwydion felt the world slow around him. As he looked up through the hazy air, he saw Jannis, his face ever placid, looking down on him. But he saw more than that. He saw Jelo. He saw Shippo and Inferno. He saw Jaeger. And, most bittersweet, he saw Austin, the old Austin, and Quixotic. They extended their hands to him, and he felt safe.

He closed his eyes and let the darkness take him.

"Gwydion!" Nitesco shouted. Jannis plunged his sword into Gwydion's chest, and they could do nothing but watch helplessly as the life drained from his eyes.

Vulpix grit his teeth and screamed a scream full of rage, helplessness, and hatred. He drew his sword and staggered toward Jannis. "You filth!" he cried. "You swine! You bastard! I'll kill you!"

Coronam pulled his steed in front of Vulpix, blocking his path. "No, Zealander!" he cried. "We can't lose you too!"

"Look!" A soldier exclaimed. "It's Contramundi!"

Contramundi finally broke through the lines, majestically galloping through and rearing up in front of Jannis. Austin saw a determination in his eyes that she had never seen before. He ran an approaching soldier through with his lance and turned to them.

"I've carved us a path," he said. "But it won't hold for long. Come on! We have to go!"

"But Gwydion!" Vulpix protested. Contramundi looked to Gwydion's body and sighed.

"We'll mourn later," he declared. "But we must leave now. Climb on!"

Vulpix obeyed, climbing onto the back of Contramundi's horse and giving a forlorn look back at Gwydion as he sped away. Jannis pointed his sword at them and ordered his men to attack, but it was no use. The group rode off through the path, following the retreat of their forces.

As they sped away, towards the mountains with the rest of their forces, Austin held Nitesco a little tighter. "I'm sorry, Nitesco," she said. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"

"It's okay," he said. "It's okay, it's okay, it's okay…"

Their forces could outrun the Church's, Austin knew. As she looked back, about an eighth of their men followed along, with the Church in futile pursuit. She turned away and back to Nitesco, knowing that whatever they had gained, they had lost far, far more.

Eternal thanks to my editor, Austin2050, for not only putting up with my lack of grammatical knowledge but also contributing almost all the Austin scenes in the last two chapters.