A message was sent and a message was received. Standing on the Eastern wall of the fortress-city of Koestace, the pilot for Einzershalt received a message from the Warden of Hanzen, detailing the coordinates for another bombardment. Though he had no helmet to transmit any responses to her, he could tell by the rigidity of her thought-voice that there was more going on than any simple invasion by Talze Utera. Jumping to the task, he climbed up onto the hand of the silver God of the War, before it raised, allowing the pilot to stand onto its shoulder. His own gloved hands gripped the side of the twenty foot giant's head, before it began to stand up. Righting itself, the middle-aged man took out a map from his pocket, unfolding it to reveal the specific details of angles and speeds in which Einzershalt should release its spears. Though there would always be a margin of error present due to wind speed, it didn't matter. Strapped onto its back were long, steel shafts, no more than crudely sharpened metal stakes. Each of them were fifteen feet long, javelins that, propelled by the strength of a God of War, could pierce straight through a mountain, causing massive collateral damage along the way. Now, he selected four of those bolts. Clumping them up in a single, metallic fist, the Einzershalt drew out one of those silver javelins, reared it's arm back, and fired it straight into the air. A few slight adjustments to the angles, and the second bolt was fired, sailing into a high arc. Like a comet, the third shot upwards, piercing the heavens before it began to slow down, and then fall straight. The fourth flew well, slicing through the windless sky. And then, Einzershalt stopped. Another message was received. That of Knight Commander Farnor, to assist with the evacuation of Koestace. --- Their meeting about the future of Astopol was cut short by the arrival of a messenger. On that opulent balcony overlooking the city of Koestace, a young knight arrived, saluted, and then brought the Knight-Commander away into a corner. Though Cairyn couldn't tell what they were whispering about, the expression on the Knight Commander's face was enough to cause her to worry. Though she was pretty certain that Savaniel wouldn't know either, she tugged on the sleeve of his tunic regardless, tilting her head slightly and asking, [b]“Do you know what they're talking about?”[/b] He replied with a rather emotionless tone, despite how heavy his words were. [b]“They're talking about the advent of a rift-beast very similar to the World-Eater. Chances are, Farnor is going to order an evacuation of Koestace, High Priestess.” “How can you even hear them?”[/b] [b]“I'm a Sword Skills user,”[/b] Savaniel said. [b]“My senses are sharper than most.”[/b] Cairyn nodded, letting go of the Grandmaster's sleeve. Placing a gloved hand against the marble railing, she could feel the slight tremors, could understand that the roar that was heard was that of a truly massive rift-beast. Down below, she could see that the citizens of Koestace were slowly evacuating, taking their time with gathering all their valuables, as the knights herded them down evacuation routes. The messenger must have alerted a few captains on his way, and now... Looking at Farnor, who had now selected a pendulum-shaped artifact from his uniform, she could see that he was communicating with the pilots of the two Gods of War that protected the walls of the city. To further assist with the evacuation? Though it wasn't 'nice' to think of it as such, the High Priestess WAS aware that, outside of those who worked to protect and maintain the city, the majority of the civilian population were those who sought to live a protected life. And now, they were running for their lives, scaling down the harsh mountain paths that was meant to deter the advances of any invaders. She closed her eyes, praying for their safety and well-being, hoping that they didn't even need the protection of the Goddess for something like this. After all, the knights of Astopol weren't so weak that they couldn't fend off a monster who's only advantage came from its size. [b]“High Priestess,” [/b]Farnor spoke out, interrupting her thoughts, [b]“I believe it is wise for you to leave Koestace as well. Grandmaster Savaniel, you'll be escorting her, I presume?” “Yes, Knight Commander, I will. And you will be fighting the World-Eater by yourself?”[/b] Farnor smiled. [b]“Of course. I would like to test my mettle against the beast that the Knight of Six Wings had defeated in her prime.”[/b] [b]“Still chasing after her shadow, are you?”[/b] With that off-handed remark, the Grandmaster scooped Cairyn up in his arms, made some mumbled apology about excusing his rudeness, and jumped off before Farnor could retaliate. --- Ah. They were all leaving. Despite how many times she helped people, how many times she cared for them, they never reciprocated such feelings. All she wanted was a pat on the back or something, an indication that someone appreciated what she was doing. Proof that her good deeds meant that she still had a conscience, that she still had a soul untarnished by the sins that she absorbed. But this just seemed to push everyone away. The bad guys hated her, and the good guys ignored her. Those who loved her were liars. Those who despised her couldn't even kill her. Those who thought nothing of her might as well not exist. In a world where everything was connected, it seemed that only she was separate. Ah, she hated this. She ignored whatever was striking her in her fetal position. Every little wound was healed within moments. Not of consequence. Not of anything. Ah, she just wanted them to all come back to her. She just wanted to take back the days where people surrounded her. So she did. Darkness pooled around her, spreading out at an alarming rate. It was a tar-like substance, impossibly sticky and pinning down any who had the bad luck of touching it. Gluing soldiers and airship crewmen alike to the spot, that darkness began to melt through them, turning them into little more than goops of melted flesh that was quickly assimilated into the darkness. Darkness that cocooned Yazu, darkness that eased her. She felt a little better, now that someone was cradling her. Even though that someone was just a melted corpse. --- Rilolia was in shock. A ways off from the battlefield, and utterly useless even if she had been present, all she could do was watch as her friend lost control of herself, turning into the rampaging, curse-inflicted monster that she must have always been. How long as Yazu restrained that madness? It was a nightmarish scene that grabbed her attention, but at the same time, she knew that she had to free Vance. That was her objective, wasn't it? But all those that were helping her were now dying horrible deaths. Chad had just barely avoided getting run-through by one of those thorny tentacles. Lyra was struggling to even divert the magical attacks. Everyone was suffering, everyone was dying, and all for the sake of a self-centered justice that told her that she should help those that helped her. When this was over, she'd have to convince her parents to lend her some of their wealth. When this was over, she'd have to find a witch who could make new body parts for those who lost their limbs here. When this was over, she'd become a spiritual medium so that those who lost their lives here could still say some final words to their loved ones. When this was over...because in the present, all she was was a useless vampire who was drunk on the power of a God of War. She felt as if someone was slowly and delicately removing her insides, carving them out with the precision of a surgeon. Anxiety rose, accelerating her heartbeat, while regrets crushed her body. She should be doing something, anything, but at the same time, she couldn't. This was simply above her level. Rilolia managed a harsh laugh as she grasped the grid of iron that prevented her from whisking Vance out of his cell. She wasn't even strong enough to tear away such a simplistic obstruction. [b]“Sorry,”[/b] she gasped, burning with self-loathing. [b]“Sorry,”[/b] she cried, wanting to change what she had been doing for the past few years, to have time to improve herself. [b]“Sorry,”[/b] she spoke, tone trembling at the futility of her own apologies. And heedless of her regrets, her sorrows, the hammer of the Goddess fell from the sky, descending on the mortals who fought on that ant-hill. --- Preparing to leave his post and aid the evacuation with Einzershalt, the pilot was stopped at the sight of an individual. A knight in blue, wielding a spear and bearing the crest of the Sarier family. He asked one question. [b]“Who were you shooting at?”[/b]